Blueberry Muffin Murder hsm-3 Read online

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  That's all you want?" Hannah was surprised when the handsome mayor of Lake Eden nodded. She'd expected a problem of gigantic proportions, but all he'd asked to do was meet Connie MacIntyre at the Lake Eden Inn at noon today. "Of course I'll do it, no problem."

  "Thanks, Hannah." The mayor brushed a nonexistent piece of lint from his jacket and reached out to take a Peanut Butter Melt from the plate Hannah had placed between them the stainless steel surface of the work island. "You know w these celebrities are. If someone doesn't meet her and take her on a guided tour, she'll feel slighted."

  Hannah supposed that he was right. Connie Mac was a star and she'd expect to be treated like visiting royalty. It had been an incredible coup for Mayor Bascomb when a member of Connie Mac's staff had called to say that she'd be honored to attend their Winter Carnival and bake the official Winter Carnival cake for tomorrow evening's banquet. Hannah, who seldom took things at face value, suspected at the "Cooking Sweetheart" hadn't agreed to attend this small-town event purely out of the goodness of her heart. One of Connie Mac's kitchen boutiques was opening at the Tri-County Mall three days from now, and promoting it at the Winter Carnival was a smart business move.

  "Make sure you drive past the venues on your way to town," Mayor Bascomb instructed between bites of his cookie. "Then take her to Jordan High so she can visit the hospitality hub and see the shuttle sleighs."

  "Will do."

  "Then drive her to the community center and show her the library. Marge is looking forward to meeting her."

  Hannah grinned at that obvious understatement. Marge Beeseman, their volunteer librarian, had been positively ecstatic when Connie Mac had agreed to sign copies of her new cookbook as a fund-raiser for the library. According to Delores, Marge had paid Bertie Straub a small fortune to cover up the gray and give her a new, sophisticated hairstyle.

  "When you're through with Marge, take her down to the banquet room. She wants to go over the menu with Edna."

  "Got it," Hannah responded, wondering how Edna Ferguson, Jordan High's head cook, would react if Connie Mac suggested changes in the menu. The food for the banquet had already been ordered, and Edna had done most of the preparation in advance. "Where shall I take her after that?"

  "The Ezekiel Jordan House. Your mother promised she'd have it ready by noon. I called her yesterday to see if I could drop in for a quick peek, but she won't allow anyone in until it's completely finished. You know how your mother is, Hannah. She's treating this whole thing like a state secret and there's no reason she should . . ." Mayor Bascomb stopped speaking as the back door opened and Delores stuck her head in.

  "Speak of the devil," Hannah murmured, and then she put on a bright smile for her mother's benefit. "Hi, Mother. Is the house finished?"

  "Not yet, dear. I just came over to ask you about a very peculiar rolling pin I found with Mrs. Jordan's kitchen utensils. Hello, Ricky-Ticky. I didn't expect to find you here."

  Hannah covered her gasp of startled laughter with a cough. Her mother was the only person in town who dared call the mayor by his childhood nickname. Hannah's grandparents had lived next door to the Bascombs, and Delores had been his babysitter one summer.

  "Morning, Delores." Mayor Bascomb gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and Hannah could tell that he didn't appreciate being reminded of those early childhood years. According to Delores, he'd been a spoiled brat. "I've. got to run, ladies. My meeting with the steering committee starts in fifteen minutes. The cookies are delicious, Hannah. I'm going to pick up a bag from Lisa on the way out and treat the committee."

  Hannah watched as the mayor clamped his hat on his head and headed toward the swinging door that led into the coffee shop. The moment he was out of earshot, she turned to her mother with a frown. "I think you embarrassed him when you called him Ricky-Ticky."

  "Of course I did. That's exactly what I intended." Delores walked over to take the mayor's stool and reached out for a cookie. "He's been acting like a big shot lately and it's time someone reminded him that he had his diapers changed like every other child in Lake Eden. Now, about that rolling pin, Hannah. . . it's carved on the outside with little panels of designs."

  Hannah nodded. "It's probably a Springerle rolling pin. They're used to make a type of rolled German cookie."

  "Oh, yes. One of your great-grandmother Elsa's friends used to bake them every Christmas. I always had to eat one to be polite, but I never liked them. They were flavored with licorice."

  "Close enough," Hannah said, not wanting to get into a discussion about the subtle differences between anise and licorice. "Most women who had Springerle rolling pins liked to show them off by hanging them on the kitchen wall. They were handed down from generation to generation, and sometimes the carvings were personalized."

  "I'll put it on the wall above the kitchen table,' Delores said, finishing her cookie and rising to her feet. "I've got to get back, Hannah. We're almost ready to hang the parlor curtains."

  "Hold on a second." Hannah carried the plate over to the counter and transferred the cookies to one of her distinctive carrier bags. It was a miniature shopping bag, white with red handles, and the words, "THE COOKIE JAR," were stamped in red block letters on the front. "Take these with you. Carrie loves my Peanut Butter Melts."

  "I know she does. So does Norman." Delores frowned slightly as she took the bag. "You've been neglecting him lately, Hannah. Carrie tells me that Ronni Ward has been in twice this month to have her teeth cleaned, and you know what that means!"

  "Her teeth are dirty?" Hannah teased, knowing full well what her mother had meant.

  "Don't be flippant, Hannah. Norman's single and he's got eyes in his head. Just in case you've forgotten, Ronni won the Eden Lake Bikini Contest three years in a row."

  Hannah sobered as her mother went out the door. She found it difficult to picture Norman with a beauty queen, but thinking about it gave her an unpleasant sensation in the pit of her stomach. She told herself that it couldn't be jealousy. Just because she dated Norman occasionally and their mothers continually tried to push them together didn't mean that she was serious about him. All the same, it certainly couldn't hurt to give Norman a call to let him know that she was still alive and kicking.

  Hannah felt a real sense of accomplishment as she glanced around her kitchen. Trays of cookies filled the slots on the baker's racks and covered every inch of the counter. It had been a productive morning. While Lisa had waited on their customers, Hannah had baked more cookies. Even if the Winter Carnival visitors were as ravenous as a pack of starving wolves, they'd have enough cookies to last through tomorrow morning's events. By then there would be fresh cookies, and Hannah planned to drop them off at the warm-up tents by noon at the latest.

  Unable to resist tasting her work, Hannah plucked an Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookie from a nearby rack and nibbled at the edge. The taste of butter and sugar blossomed on her tongue and she smiled in satisfaction. Her cookies were perfectly baked, crisp on the outside and sweet and flaky inside.

  There was a knock at the back door, and Hannah ditched the cookie in her apron pocket. She'd gone to her mother's house on Tuesday for their weekly mother-daughter dinner and saved herself from store-bought pound cake with canned whipped cream, pre-chopped nuts, and jarred caramel syrup by claiming !bat she was on a diet.

  "Hannah? You're here, aren't you?"

  It was her sister's voice. Hannah retrieved the cookie from her pocket and opened the door.

  Andrea blew in on a gust of wind, balancing a stack of real estate flyers in her arms. "Did Lisa give you my message?"

  "Of course. It'll be great to see Janie again."

  "I know. I'm really excited about it." Andrea set her flyers down on the only available space, the top of a stool at the work island. "Good heavens! How many cookies did you bake?"

  "Enough to last until noon tomorrow. The girls from Mrs. Baxter's home ec class are setting up food stands in the warm-up tents."

 
"If the weather stays this cold, they're bound to have lots of customers."

  Hannah noticed that Andrea was shivering, and she poured her a mug of coffee. "Here. You look half-frozen."

  "I am. Is that decaffeinated?"

  "No. Do you want me to put on a pot?"

  "Absolutely not. I need all the caffeine I can get this morning. AI wants me to drop off flyers all over town. I even have to drive some out to the Lake Eden Inn."

  Hannah placed a plate of Chocolate Chip Crunch Cookies in front her sister. They were Andrea's favorite. "You'd better have some chocolate for energy."

  "That's a great excuse; I'll take it." Andrea grabbed a cookie and took a huge bite. "Mbsoluphly muov mmm-meese."

  "I know you do." Hannah interpreted her sister's mumbled comment, "Absolutely love these," correctly. "I'll take e the flyers to the inn for you. I have to go out there at noon to t meet Connie Mac."

  Andrea swallowed her bite of cookie in a rush. "You're meeting Connie Mac?"

  "That's right. Mayor Bascomb's tied up with a meeting and he asked me to give her a tour of Lake Eden."

  "You have all the luck!" Andrea sounded envious. "Let me go with you. Please, Hannah?"

  Hannah remembered Tom Sawyer and the whitewashed fence. Andrea would be a big help on the tour, but she didn't want to seem too eager. "I don't know. I'm supposed to do it alone. Are you hoping to run into Janie?"

  "Janie won't be there. She told me she'd be out at the mall most of the day, helping Mr. MacIntyre with the boutique. But I'd just love to meet Connie Mac. I'm her biggest fan, and I can help you give the tour. You know how good I am with people."

  "True," Hannah conceded. Andrea had the knack for turning a stranger into a friend in five minutes flat. It was one of the reasons that she was so successful as a real estate agent.

  "Can I, Hannah? I'll do something for you, I promise. Anything you want."

  Hannah began to smile. The expression on Andrea's face was the very same one she'd worn in sixth grade when she'd begged to wear Hannah's pearl confirmation earrings to school. "Well. . . I guess so."

  "Oh, thank you, Hannah!" Andrea glanced down at her red plaid jacket and tailored slacks. "I wonder if I should dash home and change clothes."

  "You look fine," Hannah said, averting what would surely turn out to be an hour of primping. "We have to leave in thirty minutes, and we don't want to be late."

  Andrea glanced at the clock that hung over the sink. "You're right. We certainly wouldn't want to make Connie Mac wait for us. Maybe we should leave now."

  "Half an hour," Hannah insisted. amused at her sister's eagerness. "It only takes twenty-five minutes to drive out to the inn."

  "All right, if you think so. Maybe I should drive."

  "Good idea," Hannah agreed quickly. She'd been meaning to clean out her truck for weeks, but she hadn't gotten around to it yet. Andrea's car was always pristine because she used it to transport her potential buyers.

  There was a knock on the back door, but before Hannah could get up from her stool, Delores opened it herself. "Oh, good. I'm glad you're here, Andrea. Now both of you can see the Ezekiel Jordan House. Put on your coats and come right over. And use the front door so you can get the full effect."

  The door closed again and Andrea looked amused as she turned to Hannah. "Nothing's changed. Mother still orders us around like she did when we were kids."

  "I know," Hannah said. getting up to grab her parka. "But it's not just us. Mother orders everyone around."

  "I can't believe Mother put the whole thing together in less than a month," Andrea commented as they emerged from the back door of the Ezekiel Jordan House and walked across the snow to her Volvo.

  Hannah waited until her sister had unlocked the doors and then she slid into the passenger seat. "I'm just as impressed as you are."

  "It's bound to be the highlight of the Winter Carnival." Andrea started her engine and pulled out into the alley. "Especially since she's got Ezekiel Jordan's original rose- wood desk. What I wouldn't give for a desk like that! The gold inlay is just spectacular."

  Hannah thought about the re-creation they'd just seen as they drove down the alley. Delores had a real knack for arranging period furniture for display, and despite her concern about Abigail Jordan's kitchen utensils, Hannah had found only two out of place. "I liked the parlor the best. It looked so authentic, I could just see Ezekiel and Abigail sitting on their horsehide sofa watching television."

  "Television?" Andrea turned to give her a sharp look, but then she noticed the grin on Hannah's face. "Stop teasing me, Hannah. You know they didn't have television a hundred years ago!"

  "That must be the reason they had so many children. No electricity. No television. There was nothing else to do at night."

  Andrea did her best to appear disapproving, but she blew it by laughing. "You're incorrigible."

  Hannah leaned back in her seat and enjoyed the ride through town. The streets were bustling with activity today. Everyone was getting ready for the Winter Carnival.

  "You should have told me that Norman was going to take period portraits in Ezekiel's parlor," Andrea said, pulling out on Old Lake Road and picking up speed. "I could have signed up early."

  "I didn't know. I haven't talked to Norman for a week or so. It's a great idea, though. I love those old sepia-toned pictures."

  "Mother told me that Norman's going all out for the Winter Carnival. He hired another dentist to fill in for him at the clinic, he's taking all those portraits to raise money for the historical society, and he's even judging a couple of the contests. Norman's really a wonderful man."

  "It sounds like Mother converted you."

  "What do you mean?"

  "She's been singing Norman's praises to me all week. I think she sees a potential son-in-law slipping away."

  Andrea took her eyes off the road for a moment. "Why? Is Norman dating someone else?"

  "Not yet. Watch the road, Andrea. There's an icy patch up ahead." Hannah waited until her sister had turned her attention back to the road. "Carrie told Mother that Ronni Ward's been having her teeth cleaned too often."

  "Ronni Ward and Norman?" Andrea thought about it for a moment. "That's not quite as crazy as it sounds. Norman makes good money, and Ronni always said she wanted to marry a doctor."

  "Norman's a dentist," Hannah pointed out.

  "But people still call him Dr. Rhodes. That's all that matters to Ronni. She always wanted to be Mrs. Dr. Somebody-or-other."

  "Maybe she should concentrate on Reverend Knudson. He's a doctor of divinity."

  Andrea laughed, and Hannah knew she was imagining their dour Lutheran minister with Lake Eden's three-time bikini queen. "Maybe you should call him to remind him that you're still available."

  "Reverend Knudson?"

  "No, Norman."

  "I will. But I thought you were rooting for Mike as a brother-in-law."

  "I adore Mike; you know that, and so does Bill. Bill says that he's the best partner he's ever had. But it's like Mother always says: Don't put all your eggs in one basket."

  "So you think that I should keep dating both of them?"

  "It couldn't hurt. You've got to play the odds, Hannah. Think of how you'd feel if you ditched Norman and Mike didn't propose. Or vice versa."

  "Disaster," Hannah said, nodding solemnly. And then she f turned away to hide a grin. Andrea was just like their mother. They were both trying to marry her off, and the event seemed to matter much more than the identity of the groom.

  Connie Mac's limo driver seemed intent on his driving, and that suited Hannah just fine. She'd never been any good I at uttering polite banalities in the name of social grace.

  Connie Mac had arrived at the inn an hour behind schedule, and she'd offered the services of her personal limo and driver for the tour. Hannah had climbed in front to direct the driver to the venues, and Andrea, who was sitting in the back with Connie Mac, had explained which events would be held there. After a brief stop at Jordan Hi
gh, where they'd viewed the displays, examined the shuttle sleighs, and spoken to the principal, Mr. Purvis, they were on their way to the Lake Eden Community Center to meet Marge Beeseman at the library and to check in with Edna Ferguson.

  Everyone who was walking down Main Street stopped to stare as Connie Mac's limo passed by. That didn't surprise Hannah. Connie Mac was the first big celebrity to come to Lake Eden, and her limo was definitely an eye-catcher. It was painted peach, Connie Mac's favorite color, and her name was lettered in flowing gold script on the doors. Even though the windows were tinted so that no one could see in, anyone who could read knew exactly who was riding inside.

  The intercom chimed as they neared the community center, and Connie Mac's voice came over the speaker. "Pull up in front of the door, Spencer."

  "Yes, ma'am." The driver pulled up next to the curb in a no-parking zone and hopped out of the limo to open the door. As Hannah watched him usher Connie Mac out, she wondered if Spencer ever felt silly in his uniform. It was black, the type that chauffeurs always wore in the movies, but his shirt and tie were peach to match the color of the limo.

  Andrea and Hannah scrambled out of the limo with no assistance from Spencer. He obviously knew his priorities. They followed Connie Mac up the front steps that led to the community center and into the lobby.

  "This won't take more than a few minutes," Connie Mac told Spencer. "Park in the lot and watch the door. When I come out, pull up in front."

  "Yes, ma' am," Spencer said, tipping his cap and turning to go.

  "Spencer?"

  Spencer halted and turned to face her. "Yes, ma'am?"

  "I've warned you before to wait until I dismiss you. I won't remind you again."

  Spencer shifted from foot to foot and dropped his gaze to the brown indoor-outdoor carpeting that covered the floor of the lobby. The color crept up the back of his neck, and Hannah knew he was embarrassed at being reprimanded in front of them.

  "Your notepad, Spencer?"

  Spencer responded, pulling a small leather-bound notebook and pen from his pocket. "Yes, ma'am?"