Apple Turnover Murder (7 page)

Hannah hurried to the kitchen and opened the pantry to survey the ingredients she had on hand. She’d received a recipe last month from a friend she’d known in college. History major Katie Strehler had always attended class with a to-go cup of coffee in her hand. She’d been an even bigger coffee drinker than Hannah, and if Katie said her Mocha Nut Butterballs satisfied that coffee urge, Hannah certainly wasn’t about to doubt her. She’d already stocked up on the ingredients she needed to make Katie’s cookies. They were on the top shelf, along with the recipe. Hannah read it through again to make sure she had everything, and then she carried it all out to the kitchen counter.

It didn’t take long to mix up the dough, and within five minutes Hannah had the first pan in the oven. Since it was silly to try a new recipe without at least tasting it, she put on a fresh pot of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table to wait for the cookies to come out of the oven. She’d just slipped the second pan into the oven and was preparing to roll the cooled cookies in powdered sugar when the door opened and Michelle came in.

“It’s almost midnight!” Michelle said, spotting Hannah at the kitchen counter. “Can’t you sleep?”

“I can’t sleep quite yet. I have to wait for another couple of pans of cookies to come out of the oven.”

Michelle sniffed the air appreciatively. “They smell great. What are they?”

“Mocha Nut Butterballs. Do you want to try one?”

“Sure.” Michelle tossed her purse on the table and went to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup. “I’ll help you bake the rest. I’m too mad to go to sleep.”

“Why are you mad?”

“It’s Lonnie. He’s being a real pain about wanting to get engaged right away. I think he’s afraid I’m going out with someone else.”

“Are you?” Hannah asked the important question.

“I was, but I’m not right now. It’s just that I want to keep my options open. I don’t want to be tied down at this point in my life.”

“Mmm,” Hannah commented, keeping it neutral as she filled a plate with cookies. “Have a cookie and tell me what you think.”

Michelle took a cookie and bit into it. She gave a little moan of delight and popped the remainder into her mouth. “I’ve got three words to describe them.”

“And they are …?”

“Mocha. Butter. Yum!”

“That’s good enough for me,” Hannah said, taking a cookie for herself. “So what are you going to do about Lonnie?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you love him?”

Michelle took another cookie. “Yes, I love him. But he’s demanding too much of me. Maybe next year, or the year after. But not right now. I’m still trying out my wings.”

“I know,” Hannah said, hoping those wings weren’t flapping anywhere near Bradford Ramsey. One broken Swensen heart was enough.

“Men!” Michelle muttered around her third cookie. “You can’t live with them, and you can’t live without them.”

“That’s true, but it’s okay.”

“It is?” Michelle turned to stare at her.

“Sure it is … as long as the Mocha Nut Butterballs hold out.”

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

***
If the only instant coffee you can get comes in granules or beads, crush them up into a powder with the back of a spoon before you add them to the cookie dough.

**** -
Mother likes these with chopped walnuts. Andrea prefers pecans. I think they’re best with hazelnuts. Tracey adores these when I substitute
flaked coconut for the nuts and form the dough balls around a small piece of milk chocolate.

Soften the butter. Mix in the white sugar, vanilla indent1, instant coffee powder, cocoa, and salt.

Add the flour in half-cup increments, mixing after each addition.
(You don’t have to be exact. It won’t come out even anyway! Just make sure the flour is added in three parts.)

Stir in the nuts. Do your best to make sure that they’re evenly distributed.

Form the dough into one-inch balls
(just pat them into shape with your fingers)
and place them on an ungreased baking sheet, 12 to a standard sheet. Press them down very slightly
(they’re supposed to look like balls, but you don’t want them to roll off on their way to the oven.)

Bake the cookie balls at 325 degrees F. for 12 to 15 minutes, until they are set.
(Mine took 14 minutes.)

Move the cookies from the cookie sheet to a wire rack. Let them cool on the rack completely.

When the cookies are completely cool, dip them in powdered sugar to coat them.
(If you roll them in powdered sugar while they’re still warm, they have a tendency to break apart.)
Let them rest for several minutes on the wire rack and then store them in a cookie jar or a covered container.

Yield: Makes 3 to 4 dozen simply amazing cookies.

Hannah’s 1
^st
Note:After Michelle ate almost half a batch, she had a suggestion. She’s going to try making them and rolling them in sweetened powdered chocolate instead of powdered sugar. She thinks Ghirardelli makes a sweetened powdered chocolate that will work.

Hannah’s 2
^nd
Note: I think these cookies would be incredibly tasty dipped in melted chocolate. Too bad there aren’t any left so that I can try it.

Chapter Seven

H
annah put on her sleep shirt, rested her head on the pillow, shut her eyes, and the alarm went off. At least that was the sequence as she perceived it. A little subtraction, not as simple as one might think this early in the morning, proved her wrong. She’d actually gotten a grand total of four and a half hours sleep. It wasn’t enough. Her eyes still felt scratchy, and all of her muscles ached, not entirely because Moishe and Cuddles had tried to commandeer the entire mattress.

She forced her feet to cross the room and step into the tiled bathroom. Then she willed her hand to turn on the water in the shower. Seconds later, she was sputtering under the forceful spray, alive and awake enough to realize that she’d forgotten to turn on the knob for the hot water and she was still wearing her sleep shirt.

Hannah turned off the water, peeled herself out of the wet garment, and adjusted the temperature of the spray. After she’d taken her shower, she hung up her soggy sleep shirt on the showerhead to dry. Five minutes later, dressed in jeans and a blouse, she padded into the kitchen in her
slippers only to realize that the coffee she’d set to go off automatically last night was half gone.

“Good morning, Hannah. Sit down. I’ll get your coffee.”

Hannah turned toward the voice. She blinked. Once, twice, and then she gave a half-hearted wave. Michelle was sitting at the kitchen table holding a mug of coffee, and she looked as fresh as a croissant that had just come out of the oven. Her eyes were clear, her hair was glossy, and she was dressed in a pair of white slacks and a crisp yellow blouse.

As she watched, Michelle jumped up and headed for the coffee pot. Hannah sat down on a chair and pondered an important question. It was obvious that Michelle had been up for a while. She’d curled her hair and put on makeup. How could anyone look so beautiful after so little sleep? Michele was lovely in the morning, and that made Hannah feel old and ugly in comparison.

“I made breakfast,” Michelle said, carrying Hannah’s coffee to the table and setting it down. “It’s just scrambled eggs and cheese. Would you like some?”

Hannah nodded. She was incapable of speech. Michelle had gotten up so early she’d had time to make breakfast. Not only was she beautiful at this ridiculously early hour of the morning, she was also organized and energetic.

“Is something the matter?” Michelle asked.

“Why?”

“Because you’re staring at me.”

“I’m just envious.”

“Of
me
?” Michelle looked shocked.

“Yes. It’s only a few minutes past four-thirty in the morning and you went to bed the same time I did. I’m still dragging around, barely awake, and you’re dressed with
your hair done. Not only that, you’ve already cooked breakfast, and you look stunning. If you weren’t my baby sister and I didn’t love you so much, I’d probably hate you.”

The day was busy, as all days at The Cookie Jar were, and Hannah was relieved when they locked the front door at five in the evening. No sooner had they thrown the lock when there was a knock at the back door, and Marge, Jack, Patsy, Herb, and Dillon came in. While they set up at the workstation in the kitchen, Hannah arranged the BLTs she’d made on a platter and carried them to the coffee shop. Then she called everyone in to eat, including Dillon who stretched out on the floor between Herb and Lisa and munched on the extra bacon that Hannah had made for him.

Once they’d finished eating, they went back to the kitchen to make turnovers. They’d worked steadily for what seemed like at least an hour when the phone rang. Lisa hurried to answer it and after listening to the caller for a moment, she motioned to Hannah. “It’s for you,” Lisa told her, holding out the receiver.

“Coming.” Hannah dried her hands on a towel and glanced at the clock. The apple turnover assembly line had been working longer than she’d thought, because it was almost seven in the evening.

“I’ll be right back,” Hannah told Jack and Herb, who were operating the apple peeler to core, peel, and slice the apples, and she’d cut the apple slices into smaller pieces. Patsy was next in line, and she was mixing the apples with flour, sugar, and spices. When Patsy was through, she handed the bowl to her twin sister, Marge, who had rolled out puff pastry dough and cut it into squares.
Marge spooned on the filling, folded the dough, sealed the edges with a fork, and then passed the cookie sheet to Lisa, who was responsible for brushing the tops with egg wash, cutting slits to let out the steam, and then ferrying the cookie sheets to the oven.

“Who is it?” Hannah asked Lisa, wondering who could be calling her at The Cookie Jar this late.

“I think it’s Andrea,” Lisa told her, covering the mouthpiece with her hand. “It’s hard to tell, because whoever it is sounds really upset.”

Uh-oh!
Hannah’s mind shouted a warning.
Bill took the job in Florida!
But thinking that way was borrowing trouble, something she tried very hard not to do, and she forced herself to think positively as she took the phone.

“Hello?” she said.

“Hannah! I … I tried you at home and you didn’t answer, and I’m so glad I caught you at The Cookie Jar!”

Lisa was right. It was Andrea and she sounded on the verge of panic. “We’re staying late baking apple turnovers,” Hannah explained. “Is there something wrong?”

“Yes! Tachyon offered Bill more incentives and I think he’s beginning to waver, Tracey needs a homemade snack for her bus trip to Alexandria tomorrow, and Grandma McCann is at a baby shower for a friend’s daughter so I can’t ask her for help. I’m stressed, Hannah. I’m really stressed!”

“I know you’re stressed. I can hear it in your voice. Try to calm down, Andrea. I’m sure we can work everything out.”

“Can you come over? Bill’s working late, and Bethie’s got a runny nose, and I can’t find the listings I wrote up for the
Journal
yesterday, and … and I just can’t cope anymore!”

That
was unusual. Andrea could usually cope with
anything … with the exception of cooking, of course. Andrea was the worst cook in all of Minnesota’s eighty-seven counties.

“Will you come over, Hannah? Please?”

There was a desperate note in Andrea’s voice that Hannah had never heard before. “Just hold on. I’ll be there just as soon as we get our apple turnover count for the night,” she promised.

“Go now,” Lisa said, and everyone else nodded in agreement. “We can finish up here without you.”

“But that’s not really fair. I could …”

“Go,” Marge said, and it was a command. “There’s nothing more important than family. We’ve got the turnovers under control.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Hannah said to her sister. “Tell me what kind of snack Tracey needs and I’ll bring some ingredients with me.”

“Anything she can eat on the bus without making too much of a mess. And she has to bring enough for two. The kids are going to team up in pairs, eat one snack on the way there and eat the other on the way back home.”

Hannah thought fast. Sally made a snack at the Lake Eden Inn she called Imperial Cereal. She sent it along in the box lunches she packed when her guests went for walks around the lake. “How about some of Sally’s Imperial Cereal?” she asked.

“That would be perfect. But do you have time to run all the way out to the Lake Eden Inn?”

“I don’t have to run all the way out there. Sally gave me the recipe and I’ve got it in my book. Hold on a second.” Hannah hurried to the book of recipes in sheet protectors that she kept in a three-ring notebook. She located Sally’s snack and ran through the list of ingredients. “What kind of cereal do you have in the house?”

“I’ve got Multigrain Cheerios. They’re Bill’s favorites. And I picked up a box of Rice Chex for Bethie. She likes the way they crunch.”

“Those will do just fine. How about frozen orange juice?”

“I’ve got some. I just made up a whole quart and it’s in the refrigerator.”

“I need some that’s still frozen. You have extra, don’t you?”

“There’s another two cans in the freezer. Is that enough?”

“More than enough. All I need is a quarter cup. How about brown sugar?”

“Yes, but it’s got big lumps. You’ll have to pick them out before you can use it.”

Hannah was surprised that Andrea knew about the lumps in her brown sugar. As far as she knew, Andrea didn’t sprinkle it on anything and she certainly wouldn’t have tried to use it in baking. “Did Grandma McCann tell you it had lumps?” she asked, latching on to the most likely scenario.

“No, Bill did. He complained about it yesterday morning when he tried to sprinkle it on his instant oatmeal. He asked me to buy fresh at the store, but I haven’t done my shopping yet.”

“Why don’t you just keep molasses on hand? Then you could mix up your own brown sugar with white sugar and molasses.”

“But then I’d have to mix it up every time Bill wanted it. It’s easier to just keep brown sugar in the house.”

“Whatever,” Hannah said, restraining the urge to laugh. “How about your butter?”

“Butter doesn’t get lumps!”

“I know that. I was just asking if you had some.”

“We’ve got tons of butter. Grandma McCann won’t let
us buy anything else. She says butter is better for us than those artificial substitutes that don’t taste like butter anyway.”

“She’s probably right. How about slivered almonds?”

“No, I don’t have any of those.”

“Then I’ll bring them. Your oven works, doesn’t it?”

“It did last night. Grandma McCann made a hamburger hotdish for dinner.”

“Good. When you hang up, put on the coffee pot. I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”

“Hannah?”

The receiver was only inches from the cradle when Hannah heard her sister’s far-away voice calling her. She stopped her forward motion and brought the receiver back up to her ear. “I’m here.”

“I forgot to thank you. It’s really nice of you to drop everything and come over here, just because I need you. You’re the best big sister in the whole world.”

“My program’s over,” Tracey announced, racing into the kitchen. “Hi, Aunt Hannah. I didn’t know you were here!”

“Your mom said you were watching something for summer school, and I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“It was a KCOW-TV special, and Mrs. Chambers wanted us to see it tonight. It was all about the Kensington Runestone, and we’re going on the bus to see it tomorrow.”

“What did you learn from the special?” Andrea asked, and Hannah could have applauded. Asking Tracey to talk about what she’d just seen would help to fix the details in her mind.

“They said the Kensington Runestone used to be out in the open, but it was moved to the Runestone Museum in nineteen fifty-eight.”

“And you’re going to the Runestone Museum?” Hannah asked.

“Oh, yes. Part of the program was about the museum and they’ve got lots of things to see. There’s a Minnesota wildlife exhibit, and a place where you can learn about early pioneer life, and a hands-on children’s exhibit. At least that’s what they said. I don’t think so, though.”

“You don’t think so about what?” Andrea asked her daughter.

“The hands-on children’s exhibit. It never is, you know. The minute you start to touch things, somebody comes over and says to just look not touch, and to stay behind the ropes.”

“So you’re going to spend most of your time at the museum?” Hannah asked.

“Mrs. Chambers said we’ll be there for about an hour. That’ll give us time to see the log cabins, the one-room school, the doctor’s office, and all the Indian stuff. And we’re going to have fifteen minutes to buy something in the museum gift shop.” Tracey stopped speaking and turned to her mother. “Can I tell Aunt Hannah a secret?”

“Sure,” Andrea gave her permission. “I’ll just run up and check on Bethie.”

Tracey waited until her mother was gone and then she stepped closer, almost as if she were afraid her mother was listening outside the kitchen door. “I’m going to buy Mom a Kensington Runestone coffee mug with the money Daddy gave me.”

Hannah reached in her pocket and drew out some bills. She was sure the money Bill had given Tracey was for her to buy something for herself. Instead Tracey was spending
it on Andrea, and that kind of generosity deserved to be rewarded.