Candy Cane Murder (8 page)

Pour the boiling water over the chopped dates, give them a stir with a fork, and set them aside on the counter to cool.

 

Melt the butter in a microwave-safe bowl
(I used a pint Pyrex measuring cup)
for 90 seconds on HIGH. Set the melted butter on the counter to cool.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, combine the white sugar, baking soda, salt and eggs. Beat well.
(If you don't have an electric mixer, don't worry. You can do this by hand, but it'll take a bit of effort.)

 

Feel the bowl with the date mixture. If you can hold it comfortably in your hands, add it now and mix thoroughly. If it's too hot, let it cool another couple of minutes.

 

Once the dates are mixed in, add the chocolate chips to your bowl and mix. Then add the melted butter and mix thoroughly.

 

Add the flour in half-cup increments
(that'll be 11 half-cups
) beating after each addition. Take the bowl from the mixer, give it a final stir by hand, cover it with plastic wrap, and place it in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours to chill.
(Overnight is fine, too.)

 

When you're ready to bake, preheat the oven to 325 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
(Yes, that's 325 degrees F.—most of my cookies bake at 350 degrees F., but these are best if they bake slowly at a lower heat.)

 

Roll the dough into walnut-sized balls with your hands. This dough may be sticky, so roll only enough for the cookies you plan to bake immediately and then return the bowl to the refrigerator.

Roll the dough balls in the bowl of white sugar and place them on a greased
(or sprayed with nonstick cooking spray)
cookie sheet, 12 to a standard sheet. Flatten them slightly with your hand so they won't fall off on the way to the oven.

 

Bake at 325 degrees F. for 10 minutes. Cool on the cookie sheet for a minute or two and then remove the cookies to a wire rack to finish cooling.

 

Yield: 8 to 10 dozen great cookies. You can freeze any extras for up to 3 months in freezer bags.

 

Hannah's Note: All the Murphy men are crazy about Christmas Date Cookies. Michelle said she baked a whole batch one day when Lonnie was visiting her at Macalister. They ate about a dozen and then they ran out of milk. Michelle dashed to the corner grocery to buy some and when she got back, every single cookie was gone!

T
he shadows of the pine trees were beginning to lengthen and cant toward the east as Hannah and Norman turned in at the Tri-County Mall. It was two-thirty on a Saturday afternoon and it seemed that everyone who lived in the Tri-County area was out at the mall shopping.

“I've never seen it this crowded before,” Hannah said, eyeing the rows of cars in the parking structure.

“Only fifteen shopping days before Christmas.”

Hannah turned to him in surprise. “I didn't know you counted things like that.”

“I don't. There was a big sign at the entrance.”

“I didn't notice.”

“I know. So
now
who's the observant one?”

“Neither one of us. Or maybe both of us. Whatever.” Hannah grinned and shrugged it off. “I think we're going to have to park in the back forty and walk in.”

“The back forty?”

“It dates back to the days when there were large family farms. The back forty was the section of land farthest away from the farmhouse.”

“Oh. Like the toolies.”

“Right.”

Norman turned down another row and braked to a stop when he encountered a driver parked in the middle of the garage, effectively blocking traffic from both directions.

“There's one in every parking lot,” Hannah commented. “She's waiting for that couple to load all their packages in the trunk and she's determined to get their space.”

“And she's going to make everyone behind her wait until she does,” Norman added.

“Makes you wish for an accordion car.”

It took Norman a moment, but then he nodded. “One with collapsible sides?”

“You got it. Then we could skin right past her, idle in front of her and snag that parking spot before she could get it. But they don't make accordion cars, so we're stuck. Do you want a cookie while we wait?”

“Sure. Do you have anything in chocolate?”

Hannah laughed. “I've got four different kinds and three are chocolate. Do you want Angel Pillows, Devil's Food Cookies, or Chocolate Candy Cane Cookies?”

“Hold on. I've never had a Chocolate Candy Cane Cookie. What are those?”

“They're rich dark chocolate cookies with a sugary candy cane topping.”

“Sounds great! I'd like to try one of those.”

Hannah turned around and reached into the backseat for the correct bag. “I brought another dozen of these in one of my signature bags for Cory.” She pulled out two cookies and handed one to Norman. “Here you go.”

The cookies were exactly as she'd described them, and the contrast of the sweet, dark chocolate with the tongue-tingling peppermint coating was deliciously startling.

“These are your best cookies,” Norman said, finishing his first cookie and dipping in the bag for a second.

“I thought the Old Fashioned Sugar Cookies were your favorites.”

“They were until I tasted these.”

“Fickle,” Hannah teased him.

“If I am, it's understandable. My favorite cookie is the cookie I'm eating at the moment.” Norman stepped on the gas as the driver ahead of them finally pulled into her parking spot and ceased being a roadblock. “I feel lucky. Let's try that first row again.”

Norman's lucky feeling turned out to be a premonition of good things to come. As they turned down the first row, a van parked right next to the entrance backed out. Norman quickly nabbed the spot and before you could say
Jolly Old Saint Nicholas
, Hannah and Norman were stepping through the double entrance doors and into the mall.

“Whoa,” Hannah said, stopping in her tracks.

“This way, Hannah.” Norman pulled her out of the mainstream of traffic and over to the side. “What's wrong?”

It was a rare occasion for Hannah. She was completely at a loss for words. Strains of loud Christmas carols were assaulting her ears, the combined scents of popcorn and potpourri were overpowering, and the voices of hundreds of holiday shoppers created a roaring buzz in her head.

“Are you okay?” Noman asked her.

“I will be. It's just too much to take in all at once.” Hannah eyed the milling crowds of people, the flashing colored lights, and the Christmas decorations. Combined as a class that she called
holiday madness
, they seemed to be occupying every available foot of wall and floor space. “All these people. All these flashing lights and decorations. All this noise. Christmas is breaking out all over!”

Norman laughed. “You don't do much Christmas shopping at the mall, do you?” he said, and it was more a statement than a question.

“Not if I can avoid it. If Claire doesn't have what I need at her dress shop, and I can't get it from the drugstore, I pick up the phone and order it from a catalogue. Maybe we should just forget it, Norman. I'm not sure if Cory's here today anyway. I can always call him at home tonight.”

“No way. We drove all the way out here and at least we can check to see if he's there.” Norman reached out to take her arm. “Just hang on to me and I'll get you to Bergstrom's.”

“But really, Norman…maybe we should just…” Hannah's protests died a quick death as Norman pulled her forward and out into the Christmas mêlée.

 

It was exactly as advertised; shopping was better in Bergstrom's. It had nothing to do with the quality of the merchandise or the availability of helpful, well-informed salesclerks. The interior of the posh department store was quiet, almost hushed compared to the hubbub outside in the mall. There were considerably less people in Bergstrom's and Hannah thought she knew why. The exclusive department store was expensive and the words “clearance,” “blowout sale,” and “rock bottom price” had never passed the lips of the staff. Bergstrom's was not the place to shop if you were looking for a Christmas bargain. Everyone including Hannah knew that.

“Better?” Norman asked, leading Hannah toward the escalator in the central part of the store.

“Much better. We'd better find a clerk and ask where the wedding department is.”

“I know where it is. It's on the third floor, right across from the travel agency.”

“You've been there?” Hannah was so surprised she almost stumbled as she stepped onto the escalator.

“No, but I've used the travel agency. They booked my flight to the dental convention in Seattle last year. There was a wall with a sign on it that said,
MORE PROGRESS AT BERGSTROM'S. PLEASE EXCUSE OUR DUST
. When I asked one of the workers what they were building, he said they were putting in a wedding department.”

Hannah felt vaguely disappointed as they rode up to the third floor. She wasn't sure why. She was glad that Norman hadn't made plans for a wedding when he'd asked her to marry him, plans that he would have had to cancel when she'd decided not to marry anyone quite yet. At the same time, it would have shown his commitment and proven to her that his proposal hadn't been just a gut reaction to the fact that Mike had proposed first. Telling herself she had no right to want such a commitment when she was unwilling to reciprocate, she stepped off the escalator, turned toward the wedding department, and came face to face with a pair of giant gold wedding bells tied together with a giant gold ribbon that said,
WONDERFUL WEDDINGS
.

“This is it,” Norman said, quite unnecessarily.

Hannah eyed the huge bells that adorned the tall gold archway leading into the department. “Pretty fancy!”

“Shall we?” Norman held out his arm.

Oh boy!
Hannah muttered under her breath as she took it. If anyone they knew saw them walking into the wedding department arm in arm, tongues would wag all over Lake Eden.

“Hannah!”

Hannah turned to see Cory Reynolds coming toward them. “Hi, Cory. I'm so sorry about your brother-in-law.”

“So am I,” Cory said. “Wayne was a wonderful man. Melinda can't seem to stop crying. She tried to come in today, to say a few words to the staff, but I made her stay home.”

“Very wise,” Norman said.

“Thank you. But please let's not mar this happy occasion with sad tidings. How may I help you two today?”

Hannah was stunned for a moment, but then she recovered her voice. “Actually…it's not quite like that. Norman and I aren't here for a wedding. We came because we really need to ask you some questions about Wayne. Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

“Yes. Of course.” Cory turned and led the way down a hallway to several rooms. He chose one, opened the door, and motioned them inside. “Will this do?”

“It's perfect,” Hannah said, admiring the comfortable look the decorator had achieved. The room resembled a living room with comfortable furniture, some tasteful flower prints on the walls, and a tray containing bottled water and an ice bucket.

“Water?” Cory asked them.

“No thanks,” Hannah answered for both of them.

“I hear you're looking into Wayne's death,” Cory opened the conversation as he took a bottle of water for himself.

“Yes, unofficially,” Hannah made that clear. “It's just that I saw Wayne only minutes before he died and then I found him like that.”

Cory shivered slightly. “I know. All night I kept thinking that if I'd walked out to the parking lot with him, I might have prevented it.”

“Or you might have been killed right along with your brother-in-law,” Norman pointed out.

Cory was silent for moment. He was clearly thinking it over. “You're right.
What ifs
don't do any good. I didn't go out to the parking lot with Wayne, so I'll never know what would have happened if I had.”

“We need to ask you about Cyril Murphy,” Hannah said, taking charge. “Did you know that Wayne promised Cyril he'd use Shamrock Limo Service for weddings booked through your department, and he reneged on his promise?”

“Wayne said it was all a giant misunderstanding, and I know he talked to Larry about it.”

“Larry?” Hannah asked.

“Larry Helms. He's been Wayne's lawyer for years.”

Hannah filed the name of the lawyer away for future reference. “It sounds like more than a misunderstanding to me. I heard they were yelling at each other.”

“I
know
they were yelling at each other.”

Hannah stared at him in surprise. “How do you know that?”

“I gave Wayne a ride to the garage and I was sitting in the car waiting for him. I saw the whole thing. They were yelling at each other and waving their fists. I thought I was going to have to break up a fight, but then Wayne stalked away and came back to the car.”

“Do you think there was bad blood between Cyril and Wayne?” Hannah asked.

“You mean…do I think Cyril Murphy might have killed Wayne over that limo thing?”

“Yes. That's exactly what I mean.”

Cory propped his elbows on the table and covered his eyes with his hands. It was a contemplative pose and he thought about it for a long moment. Then he lowered his hands. “It could have happened that way.”

“Okay. That's exactly what I wanted to know.” Hannah stood up and Norman followed suit.

“So…no wedding?” Cory asked, giving a small smile.

“Not yet,” Norman answered. “But we'll let you know when. And where.”

Hannah shot him a quick look and decided to let it go. This wasn't the time to discuss the risk of assuming too much.

“These are for you,” she said, producing the bag of cookies she'd earmarked for Cory. “I thought you might be able to use a little chocolate. The endorphins will make you feel better.”

Cory gave her a smile that wavered slightly. “Thanks, Hannah. That was really sweet of you. I'll give some to Melinda.”

“That's okay. We've got some for her, too.” Norman spoke up quickly. “Do you think we could drop them off? We wouldn't stay, of course. We know how devastating this whole thing must be for her.”

Hannah shot a quick glance at Norman. He didn't take the lead in an interrogation often, but when he did, he was usually right.

“Yes,” she said, quickly adopting Norman's vernacular. “We thought Melinda might appreciate a tangible expression of friendship and comfort.”

Cory hesitated for a long moment. “Well…I think that would be very kind of you, provided you didn't stay too long. She's exhausted, you know. Poor Melinda is still suffering from the shock of losing her husband.”

“Of course, the poor dear!” Hannah said, pouring it on with both pitchers. The flowery language was difficult to master and she wished she'd taken lessons from Digger Gibson, Lake Eden's mortician and funeral director. “Not to worry. We'll just drop the cookies off and leave.”