Christmas Caramel Murder (12 page)

H
annah wasn't sure what had awakened her. Perhaps it was the bluish-white light that had begun to glow at the foot of her bed, turning the dark night into something foreign, something unknown.

“Dad?” she asked, sitting up in bed.

“I'm here, Honey-bear. Or at least I'm almost here. Give me a minute to pull myself together, okay?”

Hannah wanted to laugh, but she was too amazed to do anything but stare. Her father
was
pulling himself together, right before her very eyes. The bluish-white cloud was forming itself into an oval. Once the oval was roughly her father's height, appendages began to grow, four of them in the proper places for arms and legs. The head was next, popping up from the top of the oval like a balloon on a string being jerked from above.

“Almost there,” the head said in her father's voice. “They let me come to visit you again. I'm playing the Ghost of Christmas Present tonight. And all I have to do for the favor is to barbecue for the AITs next week.”

“The AITs?”

“Angels in training. It hasn't been that long since they were human, and they still get hungry. We're having bratwurst and beans.”

Hannah smiled. “That was your favorite meal to make for us when Mother was gone.”

“That was because it was easy. Throw the sausage on the grill and heat a can of beans.”

“But all of us loved it. We loved your chicken, beef, turkey noodle soup, too.”

“Three cans of soup thrown in a pot and heated together. It was easy, too. It's not like I made the soup from scratch.”

“But that's okay. It was good and we always had it with oyster crackers. All three of us loved the fact that you cared enough to cook for us.”

“Of course I did. I still do. You never lose the love, Hannah. It survives forever.”

Hannah blinked back the tears that had formed in her eyes. It was wonderful to know that her dad still loved her.

“Uh-oh. They just called me. It's time for your peek into the present, Hannah. Watch this.”

As Hannah watched, the movie screen materialized and images appeared. It was morning in Lake Eden and she was walking down the street toward Florence's Red Owl Grocery. She didn't go inside the grocery store. She stopped by the door to Danielle's dance studio. There was a pretty wreath hanging on the inside of the glass door, and Hannah took a moment to admire it. Then she opened the door and began to climb the long, carpeted staircase.

The scene shifted to the reception area, and Hannah found herself sitting there, waiting for Danielle to finish with her class. Then Danielle came out and the scene shifted again to Danielle's tiny kitchen, the same kitchen Hannah and Michelle had visited less than twenty-four hours ago. This time, Michelle wasn't there. And then Hannah was leaving, going down the carpeted stairs. She stopped at the door to the street, pulled out her murder book and turned to the suspect page. She took a moment to jot down a name.

“That's all,” her father said and Hannah squinted, trying to read the name that was still faintly visible on the screen, but the screen went blank before she could decipher the letters. Her glimpse into the present was over.

“Remember, Hannah. You must remember this tomorrow. It's very important.”

“Yes, Dad. I'll try to remember. Really, I will.”

“I know. I love you, Honey-bear. I'm hoping they'll let me come back one final time to visit you. Until then . . .”

Hannah watched as her father's shape flickered and morphed into the bluish-white cloud again. The cloud moved, closer, closer, and then it surrounded her and she felt a kiss on her forehead. “Dad,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Don't go, Dad! Please!”

“I must, Honey-bear. They're calling me. Just try to remember . . . remember . . . remember . . .”

“Remember,” Hannah repeated, reaching out toward him and encountering nothing but empty air. And then her eyelids closed. And she slept a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

Someone with very rough lips was kissing her cheek. It was not completely unpleasant, but it was a bit disconcerting. Hannah opened her eyes to see Moishe staring down at her with his one good eye and purring.

“Good heavens!” she exclaimed, sitting up quickly. “What time is it?”

Of course Moishe did not answer, but one glance at her bedside alarm clock confirmed that she had, indeed, slept in. It was almost five in the morning and she normally got up at four-thirty. Hannah felt around for her slippers, located them under the side of the bed, and slipped them on her feet. Then she shrugged into her robe and sniffed the air.

“Coffee,” she told Moishe with a smile. “And . . . something with raspberries?”

“Rrrroww!” Moishe concurred.

“Let's go see what it is.” Hannah hurried down the carpeted hallway with Moishe trailing a bit behind her, swatting at the ties of her robe hanging down either side because she hadn't bothered to secure them around her waist.

“Great!” Michelle said as Hannah and Moishe entered the kitchen. “Now I won't have to wake you.”

“Moishe took care of that. He licked my face to wake me up.”

“That's probably because he was in a hurry for his breakfast. He knows I always give him something special when I stay with you.”

Michelle scooped kitty crunchies into Moishe's bowl, followed by something from the frying pan.

“Shrimp?” Hannah guessed.

“No. I cut up a little piece of leftover chicken and warmed it on the stove.”

“No wonder he's always so glad to see you!” Hannah exclaimed. And then she smiled. “Actually, both of us are. I smelled the coffee.”

Michelle gestured toward Hannah's kitchen table and came over with the mug she'd just filled. “Here you go.”

Hannah took a big sip and gave a grateful sigh. “Thanks. I really needed this. You made something else too, and it smells delicious. Does it have raspberries?”

“Yes. I baked Red Raspberry Muffins. I wanted something with fruit, and you had some frozen raspberries. The muffins should be cool enough if you want to try one now.”

“Yes!” Hannah said emphatically. “You always make really good muffins, Michelle.”

“Thanks. This one's an experiment. Let me know if you can think of any improvements.”

Hannah accepted a muffin from Michelle, peeled off the double cupcake papers, and took a bite without even bothering to break it apart and butter it.”

“Mmmmmmm!” she said, taking another bite just to be sure. “No improvements are necessary. These are perfect, just the way they are.”

The two sisters ate in silence for several minutes, and then Hannah got up to pour more coffee for both of them. When she came back, she was frowning slightly.

“What is it?' Michelle asked, noticing Hannah's frown.

“I'm not sure. There's something niggling at the back of my mind.”

“Niggling.” Michelle looked pensive. “You use that word all the time. Is that like jiggling and nudging at the same time?”

“That's exactly what it is! This time it's a feeling that I should go to see Danielle again. But I don't understand why. We found out everything we needed to know from her . . . didn't we?”

“I thought so, but I don't know for sure. Were you thinking that Danielle might know something more about Phyllis's murder?”

“Maybe. Were you in school when Boyd Watson was hired, Michelle?”

“Yes, except he wasn't the head coach. And I don't think he was married to Danielle yet. They were just dating, and she used to come to all of his games. I know she wasn't from Lake Eden because nobody at school knew her. And I think she was younger than Coach Watson was.”

“And was that when Phyllis was a cheerleader?”

“I don't think so, but I'm not positive. Maybe you should ask Danielle.”

“I think I will.” Hannah was about to break her muffin apart and butter it when she felt a strange sensation. She dropped it back on her plate and put her hand to her cheek.

“Do you have a toothache?” Michelle asked her.

“No. No, I don't. Everything's fine, Michelle.” Hannah was smiling as she picked up her muffin again and began to butter it. Michelle would probably have her locked up in a padded room if she admitted she believed that their dad had been with her for an instant, just long enough to give her a kiss on the cheek!

* * *

At precisely nine o'clock, Hannah walked down Main Street with a bag of Red Raspberry Muffins in her hand, headed for Danielle's dance studio. She'd remembered even more about her strange dream, or whatever it was, and today was eerily similar to the one her father had shown on the movie screen. As Hannah neared the dance studio, she wondered what would happen if she walked on past the glass door. Would her father somehow push her back and guide her to where he wanted her to go?

Even though she was curious about what would happen, Hannah stopped at Danielle's door when she noticed the Christmas wreath that decorated the inside of the glass. It hadn't been there when she'd visited Danielle yesterday, but it was there now. And it was exactly the same as the wreath that her father had shown her.

Hannah felt an eerie sense of being directed as she climbed up the stairs, entered the reception area, and took a chair to wait for Danielle's class to end. She shivered slightly as she realized that everything was exactly the same as the scenes that her father had shown her. The implication was too much for her rational mind to handle, but she was here and she needed to talk to Danielle. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps it was due to her curious mind working overtime in her sleep. Or perhaps all this was something her mind refused to process. All she knew for certain was that she should forget about everything else and concentrate on how to get the answers she needed from Danielle.