Blueberry Muffin Murder (4 page)

"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 High, 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?"

"Call the chef at the inn and tell him I want free-range capon tonight, no substitutes."

"Yes, ma' am. Would you care for a salad?"

"Endive, radicchio, and butter lettuce with a vinaigrette of extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar mixed at tableside. No potatoes. In a small town like this, they'll probably be french fries."

Hannah bit her tongue to keep silent. Her friend, Sally Laughlin, was the chef at the inn and her french fries were legendary.

"Rolls with the salad course, but make sure they're not commercial," Connie Mac continued, "and fresh raspberries drizzled with Grand Marnier for dessert."

Spencer jotted that down and then he looked up from his notepad. "Will there be anything else, ma'am?"

"Contact the desk and have them send up a maid to unpack for me. She should hang everything on padded hangers and press anything that's wrinkled." Connie Mac stopped and frowned slightly. "Make sure someone from my staff is there to keep an eye on her. I brought some of my good jewelry for the banquet tomorrow evening. Do you know if the inn has a safe?"

"No ma'am."

"Call the desk and ask. And tell them to send a bottle of properly chilled Pouilly Fuisse to my suite." Connie Mac paused and a tiny frown appeared on her forehead. "I know there's something else, but I can't think of it right now. That's all, Spencer. You may go."

"Thank you, ma' am."

Spencer tipped his hat again and this time he made it out the door. Hannah tried to catch her sister's eye, but Andrea seemed starstruck and completely oblivious to the fact that the Cooking Sweetheart had just embarrassed her chauffeur, insulted Sally's culinary skills, and questioned the honesty of the maids at the inn.

"I'm just so thrilled to meet you, Mrs. MacIntyre." Marge Beeseman's voice shook slightly as she reached out to take Connie Mac's hand. Her brown hair was clipped short and frosted with blond, but it was clear to Hannah that Marge's new "do" hadn't succeeded as a total confidence builder. "Your cookbooks arrived yesterday, all two hundred of them."

Connie Mac smiled the sweetest smile that Hannah had seen yet, the very same smile she used on her show. "You really must call me Connie Mac. 'Mrs. MacIntyre' is simply too formal. May I call you Marge?"

"Of course," Marge breathed, obviously impressed by Connie Mac's tailored suit of peach wool and her gracious manner. "Just follow me and I'll show you the table I set up for your book signing. It's going to be such a wonderful fund-raiser for the library! Everyone in town wants to meet you and buy an autographed copy."

Connie Mac frowned as they approached the table that Marge had set up at the back of the library. "This is where you want me to sign my books?"

"Yes, I set it up this way on purpose. When people come in, they'll get to see the whole library on their way to your table."

"That's certainly important," Connie Mac said pleasantly, but Hannah could tell that she wasn't pleased. "I have an idea, Marge. I think we should move my book signing to the lobby of the community center."

"But we want people to see the library. If you're in the lobby, they won't come all the way back here."

Connie Mac linked arms with Marge and walked her back toward the entrance of the library. "Let's put our heads together, Marge. I'm sure that between the two of us, we can come up with a solution to our little problem. We have to decide which is more important, raising funds for the library, or giving people a tour."