Plum Pudding Murder (10 page)

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Authors: Joanne Fluke

Tags: #Mystery, #Romance, #Thriller, #Crime, #Contemporary, #Chick-Lit, #Adult, #Humour

BOOK: Plum Pudding Murder
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Mike reached the landing first. He moved back as far as he could so Lonnie could join him and they set the tree down in front of the door. “Can you unlock it, or shall we move the tree back?” he asked Hannah.

“I think I can get it.” Hannah reached between two branches and inserted her key in the lock.

“How about Moishe?” Mike asked. “If he tries to jump out in your arms, he’s going to think the forest has come to visit.”

Hannah laughed. “He’ll be fine as long as it’s not Birnam Wood and his name isn’t Macbeth.”

But Moishe was nowhere to be seen when Hannah opened the door and the men carried in the tree. He must have heard the commotion and decided that discretion was the better part of valor, or in his case, wriggling under or behind something was better than remaining in the open.

“I’ll find him,” Norman said, setting the box of ornaments on the floor and heading straight for the kitchen. “Here he is,” he called out.

Hannah got to the doorway just in time to see her cat jumping down into Norman’s arms from the top of the refrigerator. Norman carried him out to the living room couch, put him down in his favorite spot, and gave him a scratch behind the ears. “Don’t worry,” Norman told him. “It’s just a Christmas tree.”

Moishe looked over at the tree, which was now sitting in the corner of the living room, and laid his ears back flat against his head. Hannah knew what that meant. Her cat did not approve of a tree in his living room. He gave a little growl deep in his throat to confirm it and welcomed the stately Scotch Pine with a malignant stare.

“Coffee?” Hannah asked the assembled group of men. Even though she really didn’t feel like making a pot, it was the proper question for a good Minnesota hostess to ask.

“I could use another cup,” Mike said.

“Me, too,” Norman chimed in quickly.

“Count me in,” Lonnie told her. “I’ll water your tree while you make it. All I need is a plastic pitcher.”

“Wait a second,” Hannah said. “I want to put something under that tree stand in case it leaks.”

Norman look puzzled. “But it shouldn’t leak. It’s brand new.”

“I know, but I don’t want to take the chance. Phil and Sue’s living room is right below mine and they just got new carpeting. I’ll just be a second.”

For once in her life, the large, square, plastic box was right where she remembered. Hannah got it down from the top shelf of the guest room closet and carried it out to the living room. “This yarn box should be about the right size. I’ll get a bag for the yarn and needles.”

“I didn’t know you crocheted,” Norman called after her.

“I don’t.” Hannah came back with the garbage bag and proceeded to dump in the yarn.

“Then you must knit,” Norman tried another alternative.

“I don’t do that either.”

“If you don’t knit or crochet, why do you have a box full of yarn and needles?” Mike asked.

“Because someone left it in the last apartment I rented when I was in college and none of the neighbors had a forwarding address. It was too good to throw away, so I just moved it along with the rest of my things.”

While they were talking, Lonnie had lifted the tree, shoved the empty box under it with his foot, and set the tree stand inside the box. “It’s a perfect fit,” he said. “What are you going to do with all that yarn?”

“Give it to the thrift store, I guess. I know a couple of people who quilt, but I don’t know anyone who knits or crochets.”

“I do.” Lonnie began to smile.

“Who?”

“My sister-in-law. Jessica learned how to crochet these really cute stuffed animals for the kids. Larry Jaeger saw one of her lions when they brought the kids out to the Crazy Elf to buy their tree and he told Jessica he’ll take as many as she could turn out. He pays her ten dollars for each one and he sells them in the toy shop.”

Hannah realized that Jessica’s crocheted toys were probably the ones Andrea had bought for Bethie and Tracey. If Andrea had paid twenty dollars each and Larry had bought them for ten dollars apiece from Jessica, the toy shop was making a hundred percent profit.

“Take the yarn with you when you go,” Hannah told Lonnie. “Jessica’s more than welcome to it.”

While Hannah put on the coffee, Lonnie found a pitcher and filled the tree stand with water. Hannah glanced around her kitchen, trying to think of something to serve along with the coffee and her gaze fell on the package of soda crackers sitting on the counter. That was a good base. What else did she have?

One glance into the refrigerator and she had her answer. She’d made a triple batch of Nancy Henderson’s Christmas Cheese Rounds and they were wrapped in plastic wrap in the cheese drawer. Cheese and crackers would do nicely, especially since it was spur of the moment. But Norman and Mike had eaten Easy Cheesy Biscuits only a few hours ago. Was there such a thing as too much cheese?

Hannah considered it for a brief moment and then dismissed it. Minnesota was a dairy state. Anyone who lived here couldn’t get too much cheese, butter, milk, and cream. Besides, she wanted to try one of Nancy’s cheese treats. They were unusual and one of the ingredients was sure to cause raised eyebrows.

Hannah opened a jar of the jalapeno jelly that Florence had special-ordered for her at the Red Owl. She placed the cheese ball in the center of a serving plate, heated a few spoonfuls of jelly in the microwave until she could stir it smooth, and spooned it over the top of the cheese round. As she added a small serving knife to the plate, she decided that there was no way she’d mention what kind of jelly she’d used before they tasted it.

It was a simple matter to put some crackers into a napkin-lined basket and she carried it to the table, along with the cheese ball. “Try my homemade cheese ball,” she said. “Coffee’s coming right up.”

Of course they tried it. And as she poured coffee and placed the mugs on a tray, she listened to the conversation taking place while they munched.

“Do you taste some kind of spice?” Norman asked.

“I don’t know,” Lonnie replied. “Maybe it’s onions?”

“It doesn’t taste like onions,” Mike offered his opinion. “It tastes more like…peppers or something like that.”

“Whatever it is, it’s good!” Lonnie said. “What do you think, Norman?”

“I think it’s in the sauce or whatever that is on top. And I like it a lot.”

Hannah came through the doorway with the coffee and plunked it down on the table. “Jalapenos,” she said. And then she watched their expressions change to surprise.

“But it’s not that hot,” Mike said. “Believe me I’ve had jalapenos before and they’re a lot hotter than this.”

“That’s because this is jalapeno jelly, not straight jalapenos from the can.”

“Maybe the sugar takes away some of the heat,” Norman guessed, reaching for another cracker and loading it up with cheese and jelly. “This is really good, Hannah. I’ve never tasted anything like it before.”

“I have,” Mike said, giving Hannah a knowing look. “Somebody I know made Jalapeno Brownies as a special surprise for me.”

Hannah itched to correct him. The brownies hadn’t been a special surprise. They’d been an attempt to get even when he’d said that another woman’s brownies were the best he’d ever tasted. Unfortunately, her brownie punishment had backfired. Mike had loved his fiery treats.

“Eat up boys, and then it’s time to go,” Hannah said. “It’s already after eleven and I have to get up at four in the morning.”

“But how about decorating the tree?” Norman asked her. “Don’t you want us to help you with it?”

“Yes, but not tonight.” Hannah gave him a smile to show that she appreciated his offer of help. “I’m just too tired to do any more tonight. I’ll call you in the morning and we’ll set something up.”

Five minutes later the cups, the cheese plate, and the serving knife were in the dishwasher, and Hannah had reset the coffee pot for the morning. It didn’t take her long to brush her teeth, wash her face, and put on the oversized sweat suit she wore to bed when it was sub-zero weather. She was about to climb into bed when she realized that Moishe wasn’t in his accustomed spot on the pillow next to hers.

“Moishe?” she called out, but there were no soft kitty footfalls in the hallway. Moishe was still in the living room and that was when Hannah remembered that neither Mike nor Norman had pulled Moishe aside for that cautionary talk about the Christmas tree.

It’s always up to the mother, Hannah thought, and then she grinned at her phrasing. She wasn’t Moishe’s mother. She’d need four legs and a tail to qualify for that position. But there were times, like now, when she felt she should exercise some maternal authority.

He was on the back of the couch looking perfectly inscrutable when Hannah retraced her steps to the living room. He was facing the tree and Hannah had the feeling that she should be extremely persuasive.

“How’s my kitty boy?” she asked, sitting down on the couch and reaching up to pet him. “Do you like my Christmas tree?”

There was a beat of silence, and then another. After ten seconds or so, Hannah figured that Moishe was not going to respond.

“We’ll decorate it tomorrow night and you’ll see how pretty it is,” she told him. “You’ll like it, Moishe. I know you will. It’s the holidays and we’re celebrating.”

More silence, stretching out for even longer this time. Hannah continued to pet and reassure her feline roommate. “Since it’s Christmas, I think I should get you some new catnap mice. What do you think of that?”

There was another second of silence and then she heard a very soft meow. “Two mice?” she asked. “Or three mice?”

“Rowwwww,” Moishe responded, moving over to lick her hand.

“Three mice it is then,” Hannah repeated, scratching him on his favorite spot under the chin. “Come on, Moishe. It’s late and I’m tired. Let’s go to bed.”

This time Moishe followed her to the bedroom and jumped up on his pillow. Hannah climbed in, pulled the covers up to her chin, and reached out to touch his soft fur. This was nice. This was peaceful. The sound of her pet’s even purring was wonderfully relaxing.

In no time at all, Hannah began to doze off to her pet’s soft purring. It had been a lovely evening, the scent of pine filled the condo, her cat was purring softly beside her, and all was right with the world…except Bradford Ramsey. He was the only fly in the ointment. Why did he have to come back into her life now and spoil her perfect world?

CHRISTMAS CHEESE ROUNDS

For each cheese round you will need:

1 cup finely shredded cheddar cheese (measure after shredding, but pack it down in the measuring cup—I prefer a sharp cheddar.)

1 cup finely chopped pecans (measure after chopping)

8-ounce package softened cream cheese (the brick kind, not the whipped kind in the crock)

½ cup finely chopped green onions (you can use up to an inch of the stem)

1 small jar jalapeno jelly (I used Knott’s)

Combine all the ingredients except the jalapeno jelly. Pack them into a small round mold, or form a ball and flatten it to resemble a hockey puck (or a baby Brie if you’re not from Minnesota and into winter sports.)

Chill the cheese round for at least 2 hours. (Overnight or even over several days is fine, too.)

When you’re ready to serve, place the cheese round on a pretty serving plate. Heat the jalapeno jelly in the microwave for a few seconds until you can stir it smooth. Then spoon approximately ¼ cup over the top of the cheese round, letting it drip down the sides and puddle on the plate. Accompany it with a basket of crackers or cocktail bread, and enjoy.

Yield: One cheese round that should serve as an appetizer for 6 to 8 people.

Chapter Eight

T he alarm clock went off much too early to suit Hannah. All she wanted to do was duck back under the covers and hide from the day that was about to begin. Why couldn’t she just find a nice nine to five job? Other people had jobs that paid benefits, and overtime, and periodic raises, and a bonus at Christmas, and…

Hannah’s busy mind skidded to a halt. Christmas. It smelled like Christmas in her bedroom. The lovely pine scent from the Christmas tree that Norman had bought for her was perfuming her whole condo with the scent of a winter forest. Why hadn’t she ever had a Christmas tree before? The scent was wonderful and it would be so nice to sit on the living room couch and gaze at lovely ornaments glowing in the reflections from soft twinkling lights nestled among the branches. She could sip hot chocolate, snuggle up warm and cozy with Norman, or Mike, or even Moishe.

Hannah’s thoughts took another quick three-sixty. She was almost positive that Moishe had been in bed when the alarm went off. Her arm was still slightly numb from twenty-three pounds of purring feline using it as a pillow.

She reached out to flick on the light. Moishe had been here, but he wasn’t here now. There was no cat in the bed, no furry pal on the windowsill hoping to catch a glimpse of a rabbit running across the snowy rose garden, no feline roommate perched on top of her dresser, purring loudly in an invitation to get up and feed him. Moishe wasn’t in her bedroom at all.

There was a crash in the distance. It wasn’t a loud crash, but it was worthy of notice. It seemed to take a long while to happen, like a tree toppling in the forest. Branches crackled, something swished, and a moment later, there was a hollow thud. And then there was water splashing out and then dripping…dripping…dripping…in her living room!

Moishe. Her Christmas tree. What was surely no more than a nanosecond after the thought occurred to her, Hannah was up and running. She sped down the hallway, flicking on lights as she went, and came to a skidding halt as she reached the tree, the one that had been in the corner of her living room and was now prone on her rug, the tree stand tipped up on two legs over an impossibly large lake of water that was spreading out over her carpet.

Hannah hissed out a word she would never have used around her nieces. All her precautions had been for naught. Her tree was down and the plastic pan had caught only a small amount of the water that had been in the tree stand. Her precaution hadn’t worked. There was a rapidly spreading lake of water on her rug.

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