Joanne Fluke Christmas Bundle: Sugar Cookie Murder, Candy Cane Murder, Plum Pudding Murder, & Gingerbread Cookie Murder (2 page)

One Day Earlier

T
hat horrid gingerbread man was poking her in the eye again! Hannah Swensen reared back to avoid the rounded tip of a well-spiced arm and the rickety step stool she kept at The Cookie Jar began to teeter on two legs. The instant before toppling was a certainty, she managed to grab a sturdy branch that was decorated with five colored lights, a chocolate chip cookie ornament, and a plastic sprig of holly. The branch held, the step stool stabilized, and what she’d feared would be a painful tumble to the floor below was averted.

“That’s enough, I’m done,” Hannah said to no one in particular since she was the sole occupant of her coffee shop and bakery. It was four-fifteen in the afternoon, and she’d taken advantage of the predictable lull that occurred this time of day. It was too late for most customers to come in for a mid-afternoon snack cookie and too early to pick up the boxes of cookies that had been ordered for evening parties and holiday buffets. Since her partner, Lisa Herman, had offered to make their daily cookie deliveries, Hannah had volunteered to finish decorating the Christmas tree in the front window of their shop.

It was time to admire her handiwork and have a cup of the coffee the
Lake Eden Journal
had called the best in the tri-county area. Hannah poured a cup and sat down at her favorite table at the back of the shop. As she sipped, she gazed out the front window at a scene that was straight from the front of a Christmas card. Lacy flakes of snow fell outside the glass, gently fluttering down to rest on the pristine white blanket that covered the sidewalk. The tree looked lovely, and Hannah gave a contented smile. It was the second week in December, and night came early in the North Star State. Thanks to the winter solstice, this was the time of the year when people drove to work in the dark, worked all day with only a glimpse of the sun from their office windows, and left work after sunset to drive back home in the dark.

A Minnesota winter could be long and claustrophobic, causing bouts of cabin fever that sent snowbirds, the people who packed up their RVs at the first sign of snow, on their annual migration to more hospitable places like Florida or California. Those who couldn’t leave for the entire winter but needed a break from the unrelenting cold, purchased vacation packages and spent a rejuvenating week basking in the sun in Hawaii, or St. Thomas, or the Bahamas. They came back with suntans that were the envy of those who stayed behind in the land of snow shovels, ski masks, and chemical hand warmers.

The Lake Eden residents who stuck it out had months to perfect their survival skills. A Minnesota winter could start as early as October and last all the way through April. In the dead of winter, when the temperatures dropped to forty below, they dressed in layered clothing that added another twenty pounds to their silhouettes and hunkered down next to the heater vents, hoping that the furnace wouldn’t go out.

When boredom set in as it inevitably did after the holidays, people created winter diversions to keep their minds off the endless black and white world outside their windows. The end of January brought the Lake Eden Winter Carnival with competitive winter games at the Lake Eden Inn and rides through town in old-fashioned one-horse sleighs. In February, there was a gala Valentine Night’s Ball, preceded by a potluck dinner. March heralded a phenomenon called Crazy Days. Standing gas heaters were set up every few feet on Main Street and merchants displayed their wares on the sidewalk in front of their stores. It was a study in delusion, but everyone seemed to enjoy pretending that the banks of snow no longer existed and summer had arrived. In April there was the annual Easter Egg Hunt. If the weather was cold enough to freeze the hardboiled eggs that were decorated by the Lake Eden Women’s Club, the event was held in the community center.

Winter was hard, no doubt about that, but almost everyone agreed that December was a magical month. Any month with Christmas in it had to be enchanting. Lights twinkled in shop windows all along Main Street. The pink-flocked tree in the plate glass window of Doug Greerson’s First Mercantile Bank glittered with garlands of gold tinsel artfully looped from branch to branch. Pink satin balls were interspersed with gold candy canes, and pink mini-lights twinkled merrily.

Gus York had decorated his barber pole with colored lights again this year, and it reflected against the freshly fallen snow. The picture window that featured two chrome and leather barber chairs was outlined with garlands of pine boughs, red satin bows, and flashing white mini-lights.

Not to be outdone by his neighbor, Al Percy of Lake Eden Realty featured a miniature home in his front window. It had been wired, and lights blazed in the dining room, where a Christmas dinner was being served while the Christmas tree glowed softly in the den. Miniature wreaths were on every door, and the roof was decorated with a miniature Santa in his sleigh.

The window at Trudi’s Fabrics was a work of stitchery art. A red and green velvet quilt formed the background, and angels floated from nearly invisible fishing line hanging from the ceiling. Each angel wore a colorful robe, a sample of the Christmas fabrics that Trudi and Loretta featured in their store. Sparkling gold lights provided illumination as the angels floated over a miniature forest of potted baby spruce and blooming poinsettias.

Although Hannah couldn’t see the front window of Hal and Rose’s Café from her vantage point at The Cookie Jar, she knew Rose had put up her tree again this year. The shiny metal pine changed colors when a small spotlight shone through a disk of revolving colored gels. The metal trees had been very popular a few years before Hannah was born, and Hannah’s grandfather and father had stocked them at Lake Eden Hardware. As far as Hannah was concerned, Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Rose’s tree on display.

“I’m back,” a voice called out, breaking into Hannah’s thoughts. It was Lisa, and she was back from her cookie deliveries. A few moments later the swinging restaurant-style door between the kitchen and the coffee shop opened and Lisa came in.

“The tree looks beautiful!” she exclaimed, walking closer to take a look. “I can’t believe those shellacked cookie ornaments I made two years ago have lasted this long.”

“Why wouldn’t they? Shellac is a great preservative. Did you know that people used to believe it was made from the wings of an insect found in India?”

Lisa shook her head. “But it’s not?”

“That’s right. It’s actually harvested from the secretions of the female insects and it’s scraped from the bark of trees.”

“Okay. I guess that’s a little better.”

“Not always. Sometimes they scoop up the insect along with the bark.”

“Yuck! I wish you hadn’t told me.”

“Sorry about that. It
is
kind of unappetizing. Did you finish the deliveries?”

“They’re all done, except for Mr. Jaeger. I’m going to drop those off on my way home.” Lisa sat down next to Hannah and took a sip of the coffee she’d carried in with her. “I ran into Herb, and he drove me around. It’s really cold out there, and his patrol car was nice and warm.”

Hannah smiled. Lisa still had stars in her eyes when she talked about her husband of ten months. As Lisa’s father and Herb’s mother were fond of saying, they were perfect for each other.

“We got a chance to talk between deliveries,” Lisa went on, “and Herb said Mayor Bascomb had to take Mrs. Bascomb to the emergency room at the hospital last night.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Hannah noticed that Lisa was still referring to her elders by their formal names, just as she’d done as a child. Old habits died hard in Lake Eden. “What’s wrong with Stephanie, do you know?”

“Doc Knight diagnosed her with a bad case of the flu and he’s keeping her in the hospital. He was really upset because she didn’t show up to get her flu shot at the clinic, especially when he sent her a reminder and everything.”

“Why didn’t she get the shot?”

Lisa glanced around and leaned a bit closer even though there were no customers to overhear their conversation. “The reminder said that the shot was available for anyone over forty-five.”

“And she didn’t want to be seen at the clinic because that would be admitting she was over forty-five?”

“That’s what Herb thinks, and he’s almost always right.”

“Vanity, thy name is Stephanie Bascomb,” Hannah said, borrowing heavily from the Bard. “She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?”

“She should be. Doc’s keeping her in the hospital for the rest of the week just to make sure she eats right and gets plenty of rest. And that’s why I’m losing my husband until the weekend.”

Hannah gave a little shake of her head. “What did you say?”

“I said that’s why I’m losing Herb for the rest of the week. Since Mrs. Bascomb won’t be home, the mayor’s taking this opportunity to move his ice fishing house up to Mille Lacs Lake. He asked Herb to come along to help him. They’re leaving tonight at midnight when there’s less traffic, and once they put it out on the ice, they’re going to stay and fish for a couple of days.”

“I didn’t know Herb liked ice fishing.”

“He doesn’t, not particularly, but it’s the politic thing to do. Besides, Mayor Bascomb’s ice fishing house is the fanciest one around. If he doesn’t feel like fishing, he can watch television or play pool.”

Hannah remembered her one and only tour of the mayor’s ice fishing house. She’d driven across the ice to deliver coffee and cookies to the fishing contestants at Lake Eden’s Winter Carnival. The mayor’s ice fishing house had been luxurious, but the fancy lavish furnishings had been completely overshadowed by the grim discovery they’d made.

“I promised Herb I’d make him some Pork and Beans Bread before he left. It’s his favorite and he thinks Mayor Bascomb will like it, too.”

“Pork and Beans Bread?”

“It’s Patsy’s recipe. She got it last month when she went to California to visit a friend. They stopped in Paso Robles at a place called Vic’s Café and ordered it off the menu.”

“How did she get the recipe?”

Lisa gave a little laugh. “You know Patsy. She’s not exactly shy.”

“That’s true.” Hannah smiled. Patsy was Marge Beeseman’s sister, and Lisa’s new mother-in-law wasn’t exactly shy either. “So Patsy asked for the recipe?”

“That’s right in a roundabout way. Patsy talked to the owner, Jan, and explained that they were trying to make sure Dad gets enough complex carbohydrates. Lately all he’s wanted is toast for breakfast, and Pork and Beans Bread toasts up really well. Patsy figured that two slices of that would be a lot more nutritious than two slices of commercial white bread.”

“Do complex carbohydrates have an effect on your dad’s Alzheimer’s?”

“I have no idea, but Patsy’s big on nutrients and she thinks a balanced diet will help. And before you even ask, I checked with Dad’s doctor and she says eating Pork and Beans Bread toast can’t hurt.”

“The name’s intriguing. Is it a type of bread that goes especially well with Pork and Beans?”

“No, it’s bread that’s
made
from pork and beans!” Lisa gave a little laugh. “You can’t really taste them unless you know they’re in there, but then you can. I’ll make a double batch. That’ll be four loaves. And I’ll bring one in tomorrow morning for you to taste.”

“I’ll look forward to it. Did Herb tell you any other news I should know about?”

Lisa thought about that for a moment. “You already know about your mother, don’t you?”

“What about Mother?”

“She signed up for a class at the college. Norman’s mom, too. It’s something to do with running a small business.”

Hannah was surprised. Delores hadn’t mentioned signing up for a business course. “Well, that’s good I guess. But I wonder why she hasn’t told me.”

As if on cue, the front door opened and Delores Swensen came in. She brushed the snow from her cardinal red coat that went so well with her coloring and hung it on the rack by the door.

“Hello, dears,” she said giving both of them a smile. “Am I too late for coffee?”

“It’s never too late for coffee.” Hannah jumped to her feet to pour a mug for her mother.

“How about a couple of cookies to go with that?” Lisa asked.

Delores considered it for a moment. “Thank you, dear. I have class tonight and I won’t have time to run home and eat. Do you have anything with chocolate?”

“Do we have anything with
chocolate
?” Hannah laughed as she repeated her mother’s question. “Almost everything we bake has chocolate!”

Lisa glanced over at the large glass jars they used to showcase their cookie selections for the day. “We have Chocolate Chip Crunch Cookies, Fudge-Aroons, one piece of Chocolate Almost Toast, and I think there’s…” Lisa walked over to the counter for a closer look. “Yes. We’ve got two Chocolate-Covered Cherry Delights. One looks a little smushed on top, but it’s still good.”

“I’ll have the cherries,” Delores decided, sitting down at the table and turning to her daughter. “What are you doing tonight, dear?”

Hannah wanted to ask why her mother needed to know, but that wouldn’t be polite. It was best to hedge a bit and see if Delores would volunteer the information. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Then you don’t have any firm plans?”

“Not really.” Hedging hadn’t worked and it was time to border on the impolite. “Did you have a particular reason for asking?”

Delores gave a little laugh. “I should have told you up front. But that was nicely done, dear. You weren’t rude, but you avoided committing yourself.”

“Thank you, Mother. And your reason for asking?”

“Carrie.”

“Carrie wants to know my plans for tonight?”

“No, I do. But it’s because of Carrie that I want to know.” Delores stopped speaking as Lisa delivered her cookies and a fresh mug of coffee. “Thank you, Lisa.”

“You’re welcome.” Lisa turned to Hannah. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. I want to mix up a batch of Blueberry Crunch Cookies for Grandma Knudson. Reverend Knudson told me she’s a great believer in dark berries.”

“Do you have any idea what Lisa was talking about?” Hannah asked once her partner had disappeared behind the kitchen door.