Apple Turnover Murder (22 page)

Spray a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray.

Put the ground meat in the bottom of the pan, spreading it out as evenly as you can. Press it down with your clean hands, or use the back of a metal spatula. (
The fat does not drain out of this hotdish and that’s why you should use lean ground meat.)

Spoon the 2 cans of cream-of-whatever soup on top of the meat. Using a rubber spatula, spread the condensed soup over the meat as evenly as possible.

Put the frozen potato nuggets on top of the soup in a single layer.
(I’ve substituted hash browns or potatoes O’Brien when I didn’t have Tater Tots in my freezer.)

Spread them out as evenly as you can.

Sprinkle on the shredded cheese to top the potatoes.

Hannah’s 2
^nd
Note: Mary’s recipe is so easy, it’s almost impossible to get it wrong unless you use too much cheese. It’s a case of twice as much cheese is NOT twice as good.Too much melted cheese may act as an insulator, just like the insulation in your attic keeps out the cold Minnesota air in the winter. In
this case, it could have the opposite effect. The cheese, when it melts, will spread out like insulation on top of the potatoes and keep the heat of the oven away from your Too Easy Hotdish.
(I know. I made that mistake.)

DO NOT COVER your hotdish with anything. Just slip the pan in the oven at 400 degrees F. and bake it for 35 to 40 minutes, or until the potatoes on top are browned and crispy.
(If you used a glass cake pan, it may bake a little faster.)

Hannah’s 3
^rd
Note: You may have noticed that this hotdish uses no additional seasonings. Mary says some members of her family like to sprinkle it with Worcestershire sauce, but most people love it just as it is.

Yield: Mary says that accompanied by hot rolls and a tossed green salad, a pan of Too Easy Hotdish will serve 4 teenage boys, or 6 normal adults.
(Unless, of course, you invite Mike for a late supper—he must have been really hungry because he ate almost half the pan!)

Chapter Twenty-Three

“T
hanks for dinner, Hannah,” Mike said, finishing his last forkful of Too Easy Hotdish. “It was great!Sometimes I feel like a freeloader because you always feed me. I’m going to have to take you out to dinner more often so I can pay you back.”

“It’s not about paybacks,” Hannah said, although she certainly wouldn’t mind going out to dinner more often. She reached out to refill Mike’s coffee cup from the carafe on the table and passed the plate of cookies left from the previous night.

Mike ate one cookie, took another to put down on a napkin, and pulled his notebook from his pocket. “I just finished meeting with Stacey Ramsey, Professor’s Ramsey’s first ex-wife. It turns out she had a very good reason to murder him.”

Hannah could barely believe her ears. She remembered Stacey as a tall, sylph-like girl with long brown hair, far too quiet and shy to ever commit murder. “What’s that?” she asked.

“Her parents were so impressed with Bradford, they wrote him into their will. He was to get half their estate, and Stacey would get the other half.”

“They
must
have been impressed!”

“It gets worse. Stacey’s parents were killed in an auto accident on Tuesday morning, and they never got around to changing their will after Bradford and Stacey divorced.”

“You’re telling me that Bradford was still in his first ex-in-law’s will?”

“That’s right. Bradford was all set to inherit half of Stacey’s parents’ assets. And according to the family lawyer, that amounted to several million dollars.”

“Several million which should have been Stacey’s alone.”

“Exactly.”

“Did Bradford know that Stacey’s parents had left him half of everything?”

“Yes. The family lawyer spoke to him on the phone Tuesday night. Bradford was supposed to drive to Fergus Falls on Thursday to sign all the documents.”

“But he was dead on Wednesday night, so the documents were never signed?”

“Right. You’re quick, Hannah.”

“Thank you. So what happens to the house and the land now?”

“Everything goes to Stacey since Professor Ramsey is dead. There was a provision in the will stating that if, at the time the will was formally read, either of the two beneficiaries had preceded the other in death, the living beneficiary would inherit the entire estate.”

“Do you think Stacey killed Bradford so that she could keep everything for herself?”

“That would be the logical conclusion, but it didn’t happen. Stacey has an iron clad alibi. She was riding in
the backseat when her parents were killed, and she broke her shoulder. She didn’t get out of the hospital until this morning.”

“How about a new husband, or a boyfriend, or someone who wanted Bradford out of the picture?”

“Good thought, but there isn’t anybody.” Mike picked up his other cookie and took a bite. “How about you? Did you get anywhere?”

“Yes, and no. We discovered that Stephanie and Mayor Bascomb were suspects, but we cleared both of them.”

“Who’s
we
?”

“I don’t think you want to know that.”

Mike looked as if he might object, but then he shrugged. “Okay. Tell me why Mayor Bascomb and his wife were suspects.”

“Well … it’s like …” Hannah stopped and threw up her hands. “Actually, it’s better if you don’t know that, either.”

“But they both have alibis?”

“Oh yes,” Hannah said, happy that she could answer at least one of Mike’s questions. “Mother saw both of them in the lobby during intermission at the talent show. They were there for the whole time, and then they went back to their seats together.”

“Okay. How about any other suspects?”

“Norman’s checking into any students that Bradford flunked.”

“That’s really unlikely as a motive. Anything else?”

“Nothing important. Michelle knows one of Bradford’s research assistants, so she’s going to talk to him to see if he knows anything. How about you?”

“I talked to a couple of people who’d been at the luncheon on Wednesday afternoon. One of them said she saw
Professor Ramsey getting into Samantha Summerfield’s car right after the luncheon was over.”

“Really?”

“I checked it out and her driver said he took them to Professor Ramsey’s apartment building. Then he waited in the parking lot for them to come out.”

Hannah didn’t ask. She just stared at Mike knowingly.

“Ten minutes,” Mike answered her unspoken question.

“Ten
minutes
?”

“That’s right. And when Miss Summerfield got back to the car, she wasn’t happy.”

“The driver could tell?”

“Anyone in the vicinity could tell. When Professor Ramsey turned to leave, Miss Summerfield rolled down her window and yelled, “Just stuff it, Brad! And if you even think about upstaging me tonight, I’ll bury you!”

“Do you think she was angry enough to kill him?”

“Possibly, but she didn’t have the opportunity. The driver said he waited for her at the back of the auditorium, and the moment the curtain came down on the first act, they hurried back out to the car. It wasn’t quite fast enough, because there were dozens of fans waiting for her. She got into the car, rolled down the window, and signed autographs for at least twenty minutes. I checked that out, and it’s true. And then the driver took Miss Sum-merfield back to Minneapolis.”

“I guess that clears her.”

Mike gave her a knowing grin. “But you still want to know what Professor Ramsey did to make her so mad, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Hannah admitted.

“Well, so did I, so I called and asked her.”

“You didn’t!”

“I did.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she thought they were going to talk about the talent show, but Professor Ramsey told her he’d admired her from afar ever since he’d first seen her on television, and he’d written a poem for her. He read it aloud, and then he … well … you can probably guess what he tried to do.”

“I can guess.”

“She told me that it might have worked on a naïve college freshman, but she wasn’t impressed with his line. She told him to get lost and marched right out of there.”

“Good for her!” Hannah said, wishing she’d done the same. But this was no time to indulge in regrets and recriminations. “Do you have any other suspects?”

“No, but I’m heading to Macalester in the morning to check out things there. Stella Parks is going to meet me on campus.”

Hannah remembered the Minneapolis detective with fondness. “Tell her hello from me,” she said.

“I will. Anything else I should know?”

“I don’t think so. If I think of anything, I’ll call.”

Mike stood up and headed to the door with Hannah following close behind. When he got there, he turned and asked, “How’s Norman?”

Hannah was ready to give her standard
just fine
answer, but Mike was Norman’s friend and she could tell he really wanted to know. “I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “Sometimes he seems just fine, but other times I know there’s something bothering him.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I wish he could tell me what it was.”

“Me, too,” Mike said. “Then maybe we could do something to help.”

They stood there quietly, looking at each other, until Hannah dropped her eyes. “Goodnight, Mike,” she said.

“Goodnight, Hannah.” Mike pulled open the door, but he didn’t step out immediately. First he touched her cheek very gently, with the tip of his finger. “Take care,” he said, giving her a smile. And then he turned and walked down the stairs.

Chapter Twenty-Four

H
annah awoke to a rough tongue licking her nose and sunlight streaming in her bedroom window. “What time is it?” she asked her feline bedfellow.

“Rrowww!” Moishe answered, assuming a sphinx-like posture on the pillow next to hers.

Since she didn’t speak cat and had no interpreter, Hannah turned to look at the clock. It was seven-thirty, and she’d gotten over six and a half hours of sleep. This hadn’t happened since … Hannah’s mind balked at going that far back in time. It certainly hadn’t happened since she’d opened The Cookie Jar.

She threw back the light cotton coverlet she used during the summer months and smiled. This morning there was time for a luxurious cat stretch that imitated Moishe’s ritual stretch. Hannah rolled over on her stomach and extended her arms and legs in random order until they were spread out in opposite directions. When that was concluded, she tucked arms and legs back in and rolled to one side, then the other side, and ended up on her back. And
then came the best stretch of all, with all four paws, or in Hannah’s case hands, pointing straight up to the heavens. After that there was a flip to the side, another stretch extending toward the doorway, and Hannah sat up on the edge of the bed feeling better than she had in months. Obviously sleep was the key. If only there were some way to get more of it! Leaving her roommate to take quite literally a spit bath, Hannah headed off to the shower.

Twelve minutes later, cat and mistress left their bedroom and padded down the hall. Moishe was wearing his orange and white fur suit, and Hannah was dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved buttercup yellow blouse. Hannah was still wearing her fur-lined slippers and Moishe was doing the same.

“Oh, my!” Hannah said as a welcome aroma drifted out from the kitchen. She’d forgotten to set the timer for the coffee last night, but Michelle had made a pot.

“Good morning, Hannah,” Michelle greeted her. “I’m falling down on the job. All I made for breakfast this morning is coffee.”

“Coffee’s perfect. It’s exactly what I need. Can you think of a better way to start the day?”

Michelle didn’t waste any time thinking. “You’re right. Sit down and I’ll get yours. And I’ll have another cup with you.”

“You know, it’s just amazing how alert I feel. And I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee.”

“Sleep will do that to you. You should really try it more often.” Michelle handed Hannah her coffee cup and sat down at the table with her.

The two sisters sipped in companionable silence for several minutes, and then Hannah spoke. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Mother doesn’t need me, so I thought I’d run out to
the college and talk to Tim Pearson if I can borrow your truck.”

“Ride in to work with me and you can have it. Just make sure you’re back before the Donkey Baseball Game.”

“When is that?”

“It starts at three and lasts until six. Then there’s a barbecue and pizza feed in the big tent on the football field.”

“And after that is the auction … right?”

“Right. I know Mother was resisting. Did Stephanie end up talking her into donating something?”

“Yes, she did. Mother gave her a carved umbrella stand. It’s ebony and Luanne got it at an estate sale in Edina.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It isn’t. The carving is well done, but there are grotesque-looking rodents all over it. Mother’s never been able to sell it, so she decided to give it to Stephanie and take the write-off.”

“Smart move,” Hannah said, downing the last of her coffee and standing up. “Let’s get ready to go. I want to take a look at that umbrella stand for myself. I might just bid on it for Moishe.”

Lisa looked shocked as Hannah came in the back door of the shop. “It’s only nine o’clock. You didn’t have to come in this early.”

“Yes, I did. I wanted you to see how alert I am before I get tired again.”

Lisa laughed. “Marge baked her Cottage Cheese Cookies this morning. I’ll bring you a couple.”

Hannah poured herself a cup of coffee from the kitchen pot and sat down at the stainless steel workstation. Lisa
brought her two cookies on a napkin and sat down across from her.

“Very good,” Hannah said after one bite. “How did Herb’s meeting with the mayor go?”

“Just fine. He’s going to start patrolling the cemetery this afternoon. He’s going to do a drive-through every two hours in the afternoon and increase it to once every hour when it gets dark out.”

“He’s not going to patrol all night, is he?” Hannah asked, hoping Mayor Bascomb wasn’t expecting his town marshal to go without sleep.

“Just for the first two nights. And that’s because Friday and Saturday nights are popular date nights. The mayor figures the news will spread pretty quickly and parking in the cemetery will lose its appeal.”

“But how can the mayor possibly expect Herb to go two nights without sleep?”

Lisa laughed. “I guess I forgot to tell you. Mayor Bascomb relieved Herb of all his other duties until the city maintenance crew can put up motion lights. They promised him the lights would be up and working by Sunday afternoon. They’re sending a man out there this morning to take photos and measurements. They did the same thing with the road past the apple orchard. They put up motion lights.”

“I wonder where the kids will move next?” Hannah mused. “And I also wonder if Mayor Bascomb owns stock in any motion light company.”

The next two hours passed quickly while Hannah baked. She was about to mix up a batch of Mystery Cookies when Lisa came in from the coffee shop.

“Norman’s here to see you,” she said. “Shall I tell him to come back here to the kitchen?”

“Yes, please,” Hannah said, wondering why Norman hadn’t simply parked in her spot and come in the kitchen door.

It appeared that Norman had been waiting very close to the door for Lisa’s summons, because Lisa left and only a second or two later, he pushed through the door.

“Hi, Norman. Coffee?”

“I’d love some. Thanks. Is it okay if I sit here?”

Hannah nodded when Norman pointed to a stool at the workstation. It was the same stool where he usually sat. Either Norman had suffered some unfortunate memory loss that had erased all recollection of their former relationship, or he was withdrawing again.

“Here you go,” Hannah said, setting his coffee in front of him. “How about a cookie?”

“That would be nice. Whatever you’ve got is fine.”

Hannah placed a Molasses Crackle and a Black and White on a napkin and handed them to Norman. And then, because she was frustrated with what she thought of as a subterfuge, she asked, “What’s wrong, Norman?”

“What do you mean?”

Since he’d dropped his eyes, Hannah could tell he knew exactly what she meant, but she decided to spell it out for him. “Sometimes you’re warm and loving, just like you were before the wedding. But other times, like now, you’re cold and distant. You’re perfectly polite, but you’re treating me like a stranger.”

“Fair enough.” Norman signed deeply. “I’m sorry, Hannah. It’s a personal problem I’m trying to work out. It has nothing to do with you.”

“But it affects me.”

“Yes. It does.” He was silent for a moment and then he gave her a little smile. “Just try to be patient with me. I’ll work it out eventually.”

“And then things will return to normal?”

“I hope so. Just give me a little time, Hannah. That’s all I ask. Will you do that for me”

“Of course,” Hannah said. What else could she say? But she was left with a vague and unsatisfactory answer to what was obviously a big problem. Rather than dwell on it and make both of them miserable, she smiled brightly and asked, “What did you learn from Kyle Williamson? I’ve been on pins and needles, waiting to hear.”

“I learned a lot.” Norman returned her smile. “I like him and I think the feeling’s mutual. At least he really opened up to me. He reminds me of me at that age. A little nerdy, a little bit too non-athletic to be very popular with the girls, and a little too eager to speak up in class when he knows the answer.”

“He sounds like a kid I might like,” Hannah ventured.

“You would. And he’s not really a kid. He’s got a degree in music from Juilliard, but it’s like he says, there’s not much work for a concert pianist who came in fourth in the important competitions and didn’t quite make the concert circuit. You know what I mean?”

“I
do
know. I thought for a while that I wanted to write poetry. I cared so much and I tried so hard. I put my heart on the page, but I just wasn’t good enough.”

“Do you still have any of your poetry?”

“It’s probably kicking around somewhere in the guest room closet.”

“If you’re willing, I’d like to read it sometime.”

“Maybe sometime,” Hannah said, wondering if that would ever come to pass. She couldn’t help but doubt the depth of their relationship. Right now, at this moment,
Norman was his old self. But he could change in an instant to that distant stranger.

“I painted,” Norman said. And then he was silent. Hannah wondered if he were wishing he hadn’t revealed that about himself.

“What did you paint?” she asked.

“Houses.” Norman waited for a beat and then he chuckled. “Gotcha! You’re thinking
house painter
, right?”

“Yes, I was. But you painted …?”

“Cityscapes mostly. I concentrated on urban architecture. Houses, apartment buildings, landmarks … that type of thing. Mine were a bit different than most because the frame was always a window. And occasionally the perspective was not from the window itself, but from a point across the room from the window.”

Hannah stared at Norman in amazement. She’d seen several paintings of that description in the house Norman had built. She’d assumed they were prints of famous works, or original oils purchased for their investment potential. “The belfry?” she asked referring to the painting she’d noticed hanging in his study.

“The bell tower at Notre Dame. I painted it after a trip I took as a student. It’s my last one.”

“But it’s beautiful. I love it. Why did you stop painting?”

“I’m a lot like Kyle. I realized I wasn’t good enough to make a decent living at it, so I went to dental school.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to give up painting. You could paint on the weekends, or at night, or whenever. You don’t have to stop creating!”

“I might take it up again someday … as a hobby. But the fire to succeed as an artist of note is gone.”

“But you shouldn’t just give up. You should …”

“Do you still write poetry?” Norman interrupted her with a question.

“I … I … no. I haven’t written anything since I left college.”

“Point made,” Norman said.

“Point taken,” Hannah replied. “I just wish that …”

“Another time. Don’t you want to hear why Kyle flunked Professor Ramsey’s Intro to Poetry class?”

Hannah nodded, pulling herself out of her self-indulgent dream, where they traveled to wonderfully scenic places so that Norman could paint and she could write. “Tell me,” she said.

“Kyle told me his girlfriend broke up with him right before Christmas. She said she was in love with Professor Ramsey.”

“Oh, no!” Hannah said, feeling sorry for the jilted student.

“They’d both enrolled in his Intro to Poetry class, and Kyle convinced himself that it was just a passing thing and she’d come around as soon as she saw that he still loved her. The first day of class rolled around, and Kyle managed to sit next to her, but she wouldn’t even speak to him. That was the way things went for the first week of class. Kyle kept trying, and she kept refusing to have anything to do with him. He said he had to watch her flirting with Ramsey and that it was really hard to take.”

“I can imagine that! Poor Kyle.”

“And then Professor Ramsey started singling her out for things, keeping her after class, and inviting her to visit his home campus at Macalester. Kyle could tell she was falling completely under his spell, and he just couldn’t stand to watch it any longer.”

“So he started skipping classes, even when there were tests?” Hannah guessed.

“That’s about the size of it. Once he realized that Professor Ramsey was returning his girlfriend’s overtures, he stopped going to class altogether. It was just too painful to watch them interact. He would have dropped the class, but it was too late to drop, so he just took the failing grade.”