Chapter Two
She was being crushed between two boulders … except they weren’t boulders. They couldn’t be boulders. Boulders were hard and cold. These were softer, and they were warm. She couldn’t be certain what material they were made of, but she was totally restrained by whatever it was.
Her arms must be bound, or perhaps wedged at her sides, because she couldn’t move them. Her legs also seemed to be trussed or contained in some manner. Why was she imprisoned like this? She couldn’t remember, and she wasn’t even certain that she’d ever been told.
There was a noise in the dark, way in the distance. She struggled to identify it for a moment, and then her mind, which seemed to operate in slow-motion, latched onto an image of a truck. It was the sound of a motor running, perhaps several motors running. Was she about to be moved from this place of confinement and transported to another location?
The rumbling continued, echoing around her, filling her head with questions. How had she been brought here? Who was responsible? And when there were no answers to those questions, her mind turned to others.
How high was high? What made the wind blow? No one could disagree that she was thinking. Did that mean that she existed? But this line of thought was not productive in her current situation. She ought to attempt to find a way to break out of her confinement and not waste time woolgathering.
Woolgathering. The words swirled in her mind, back and forth, around and around. The letters were made up of little puffy balls of cotton wool and it reminded her of sheep the size of kittens. And there was something about kittens, something about the fog creeping in … but that was cats. And these sheep were … cats!
“Off!” Hannah ordered, startling the two cats and sending them leaping from the bed. No wonder she’d dreamed about being wrapped up like a mummy! It had gotten cold and damp in the wee hours of the morning. Moishe and Cuddles must have felt the chill, because they’d moved from the living room couch to her bed. There they’d climbed up on her pillow, Moishe on the left and Cuddles on the right, moving closer and closer to her as they slept. For all intents and purposes, she’d ended up with two cats glued tightly to either side of her head.
A glance at the clock on her bedside table made Hannah groan. It was already a quarter to four and she had to get up in forty-five minutes. By the time she made a trip to the bathroom and got back in bed, only forty minutes of sleep time would be left. And by the time she actually calmed down, gave the cats several scratches behind the ears to apologize for startling them, and got back to sleep, it would be almost time to get up again.
And now, just thinking about it and figuring out the times, she was wide awake. No sense even trying for the few additional minutes of sleep that she might possibly gain. It was better to get up and try the recipe her college friend, Beth, had sent her for Vanilla Crack, to see if they could use it at The Cookie Jar. It certainly seemed easy to make and they had nothing else like it on the cookie menu.
By the time the little hand was a smidgen short of the four and the big hand was flirting with the eleven, Hannah emerged from the bathroom squeaky clean. She dressed quickly in the clothing she’d set out the previous night, and before the second hand could tick off the remaining three clicks to the hour, she was ready for the day that had not yet arrived.
“Thanks a lot, guys,” she said to the two felines who were now nestled on her pillow, sound asleep, and walked down the carpeted hallway toward the kitchen. As she passed the closed guest room door, she listened for any sound that might indicate Michelle was awake. Her youngest sister had come home just as Hannah was going to bed, and both of them had been too tired to do more than say goodnight.
When she got to the kitchen, Hannah flicked on the banks of fluorescent lights that turned the white-walled room into the luminance of day, and re-read the recipe she’d received in the mail. It was even easier than she’d remembered, and she had all the ingredients on hand, including a fresh box of soda crackers. Then she set the recipe down on the counter and completed the first step toward a successful baking experience. She poured herself a cup of coffee to wake up.
The first sip was heaven. Hannah gave a deep sigh of pleasure and sank down on one of the plastic-covered chrome tube chairs that would eventually become antiques. Could anything be better than the first cup of coffee in the morning?
Hannah sat there relishing the experience, concentrating on the dark, rich taste. It was full-bodied but not bitter, and that meant the beans had been roasted to perfection. She definitely liked the new coffee Florence Evans, owner of Lake Eden’s Red Owl Grocery Store, had ordered for her. It was called Silver Joe’s, and they were trying it out at The Cookie Jar this morning. If their customers liked it, they’d switch. And that just went to prove that there was an upside to keeping in touch with old classmates. Who would have guessed that Pat Vota, the bratty boy who had pushed her off the dock every time they’d gone swimming at Eden Lake, would end up as a top executive at a gourmet coffee company?
Once her cup was empty and the morning caffeine had performed its miraculous cure, Hannah poured a second cup and began to gather ingredients. The list was short and consisted of only four items: butter, white sugar, vanilla, and salted soda crackers. Since there was a variation called Chocolate Crack, Hannah also carried a canister of brown sugar and a bag of chocolate chips to the counter. She had just filled a saucepan with butter, sugar, and vanilla when the phone rang.
Hannah turned to glance at the clock. It was four thirty-five. Who would call her this early? Visions of crippling auto accidents, life-threatening medical emergencies, and violent crimes befalling friends and family filled her mind with dread as she rushed over to answer it.
“Hello?” Hannah answered, hoping it was a wrong number. Anything else was likely to announce a disaster.
“Good morning, Hannah.”
“Norman?” Hannah could scarcely believe her ears as she recognized the cheery voice. It was Norman, calling her on his cell phone, and he sounded alert and wide awake. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, but I woke up too early. I couldn’t sleep without Cuddles.”
And I couldn’t sleep WITH Cuddles, Hannah thought, but of course she didn’t say it.
“So how did she sleep?” Norman continued.
“Cuddles slept just fine. So did Moishe,” Hannah replied, deciding not to tell him about her rude awakening with both cats plastered to her head.
“Good. Well … I’d better let you go then. I know you’re probably just getting ready for work.”
Hannah gave a little smile. “Actually, I’m baking. I’m testing a new recipe a friend sent me for Vanilla Crack.”
“Is that a cookie?”
“Not really. I guess you could say it’s a cross between a cookie and a candy.”
“Sounds interesting. Will you save one for me when I come to pick up Cuddles on Wednesday night?”
“Of course I will.”
“Okay then. I’d better try to catch a little more sleep. I’m meeting the old gang to take a tour of the clinic this afternoon, and then we’re all going out for dinner.”
“Have fun.”
“I will. It’s been three years since I’ve seen these guys. We’ll probably spend most of the night playing catch-up.”
Hannah said goodbye and hung up the phone feeling envious. Norman was going back to bed. She wished she could go back to sleep and get up much, much later.
It didn’t take long to boil the butter and sugar the required amount of time. Hannah had just added the vanilla and poured it over the bed of soda crackers she’d arranged on a cookie sheet when her phone rang again.
It only took a moment to sprinkle on a few pieces of salted nuts, slip the pan into the preheated oven, and set the timer. Hannah managed to answer the phone on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Hannah!” It was Andrea’s voice and she sounded anxious. “I’m sorry to call so early, but I knew you’d be up and I really need to talk to you. It’s about … oh drat! Bill’s out of the shower and I can’t talk now. I’m showing two houses this morning, but I’ll come in this afternoon, okay?”
“Fine, but …” Hannah stopped talking when she realized that her sister had hung up. She stood there staring at the receiver for a moment and then she returned it to the cradle. Andrea was usually a late riser. What had happened to get her up before dawn? Or had she been sleepless all night, worrying about something?”
The timer dinged and Hannah removed the pan of Vanilla Crack from the oven. It smelled marvelous. She removed the pieces from the cookie sheet on a wire rack to harden and gave a little smile of satisfaction.
“What smells so heavenly?”
Hannah whirled around to see her youngest sister standing in the kitchen doorway, wearing a red and black checkered nightshirt and pink bunny slippers.
“It’s a new cookie called Vanilla Crack.”
“Vanilla Crack?” Michelle’s eyebrows approached the edge of her honey-brown bangs. “Do you know what crack is?”
“Of course I know what crack is.”
“But you’re still going to call this cookie Vanilla Crack?”
“Yes, I am. There’s no way I’m going to let a slang term invented by a scroungy dope dealer spoil my friend’s cookie name. They’re called Vanilla Crack, and Chocolate Crack, because the syrup is poured on crackers. And anybody who objects to the use of a perfectly good English word because illiterate criminals use it is an idiot!”
Michelle backed up a step and held up her hands, palms facing Hannah. “Okay. Forget I mentioned it. You’re absolutely right. I just didn’t know if you knew that it might have negative connotations. It smells divine, though. I think I’ll try a piece for breakfast, if that’s all right with you.”
“For breakfast?!” Hannah heard her own words, more than a little censorious, echoing back to her. It wasn’t that long ago she’d been a college student like Michelle, and she’d eaten cold pizza for breakfast. On the scale of nutritional correctness, was a piece of Vanilla Crack that much lower than a piece of cold pepperoni pizza?
“Hannah? Can I try a piece of Vanilla Crack for breakfast?”
“It’s may I. And yes, you may. Let me know how you like it while I start on the Chocolate Crack. And be careful. It hasn’t had long to cool and it could be too hot to eat.”
Michelle reached out to touch the confection on the cooling racks while Hannah arranged graham crackers on another cookie sheet. Then she put butter and brown sugar into her saucepan and brought it to a boil. She boiled it for the required five minutes, poured it over the graham crackers on the cookie sheet, and slipped the sheet in the oven. She’d just measured out the chocolate chips she’d need once it finished baking when she noticed that there was a large empty space on the cooling rack. “You’ve already eaten a quarter of a pan?” she asked Michelle.
“I guess I was hungry,” Michelle said a bit sheepishly. “It was great, Hannah. It’s just like a flaky candy bar. Is the Chocolate Crack almost done? I’d like to taste that, too.”
“Ten minutes in the oven, five minutes to cool, and you can have a taste … or maybe another quarter-pan. You’re pretty wide awake for someone who didn’t get home until after midnight last night. I thought you said Lonnie had to work a swing shift.”
“He did work a swing shift. And before he went to the sheriff’s station, he dropped me off at the community college. It was jazz night at the Cave,” Michelle named the little bistro on campus that hosted student entertainment in the evenings, “and I met some friends. I caught a ride here with one of them.”
“Oh.” Hannah turned away to hide her worried expression. She hoped the friends Michelle had at the college didn’t include Bradford Ramsey. She’d been meaning to warn Michelle about the unscrupulous professor ever since her youngest sister had invited him to Christmas Eve dinner, but the time had never seemed right. Hannah supposed now was as good a time as any, but the thought of imparting such an embarrassing confidence at shortly after five in the morning made her courage shrink up and her voice turn mute.
“What is it?” Michelle asked, locking eyes with Hannah. “You look … pained. Is it the coffee on an empty stomach?”
“Heavens, no!” Hannah said, and changed the subject quickly. “That reminds me … what do you think of the coffee? We’re trying a new brand at The Cookie Jar and I brought some home to test.”
“It’s really good. I like it better than the old kind. But you haven’t told me what’s wrong?”
Hannah sighed. She supposed she really should answer Michelle. She steeled herself to introduce the subject, but just as she was about to speak, the phone rang. “Oops. I’d better get that,” she said, and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi, Hannah. It’s Mike. I’m not calling too early, am I?”
“I’ve been up for an hour, Mike,” Hannah answered, using his name deliberately so that Michelle would know who it was.
“Tell him hi from me,” Michelle said, hopping up from her chair. “I’m going to go get dressed. By that time, the Chocolate Crack should be cool enough to try.”
“Did she say Chocolate Crack?” Mike asked, and Hannah could hear the shock in his voice.
“That’s right. It’s a new recipe. And I do know what crack is. This crack refers to one of the ingredients, crackers, and I’m not about to change the cookie name because some criminals use it for drug slang.”
“Okay. Okay. I just wanted you to know, that’s all.” Mike backed off quickly. “Have you heard from Norman?”
“Yes, at four thirty-five this morning. He told me he couldn’t sleep well without Cuddles.”
“That figures. It’s all a matter of habit. When I was growing up, I slept in a room with my older brothers. When they moved out, it took me a week before I could sleep through the night. It was just too quiet, you know?”
“I do know. So what’s up, Mike? You don’t usually call this time of the morning just to chat.”
Mike gave a little laugh. “You know me too well, and you’re right. Do you know where Norman is staying in the Cities?”
“No, and I didn’t ask him when he called. I should have, but I guess it was just too early to operate on full brainpower.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Do you want me to ask if he calls again? He’ll probably get in touch with me sometime this evening.”
“That’ll be too late. I need to call and ask him where he hides his extra key.”
“Which key?”
“His house key. I know he hides one somewhere outside.”
“Did Norman tell you that?”
“No, but almost all the homeowners do it. It could be nasty if you got locked outside by accident in the winter.”
“True,” Hannah said and then she was silent. She wasn’t about to give away Norman’s hiding place until she knew more about why Mike needed that information.
“So do you know where he hides it?”
“Yes. Why do you want to know?”
“One of Norman’s neighbors was driving by on her way to work the early shift at DelRay this morning, and she saw a light flick off upstairs. She knew that Norman was gone, so she called the station to report it.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Yes, it was. It’s probably a light on a timer or something like that, but I’m driving out there to check it out. I’ll jimmy a window or something if I have to, but it’d be a lot easier if I had a key.”
“Of course it would. I’ve got a key here, but it’ll be a lot faster if you drive straight out there and use Norman’s hidden key. There’s a concrete statue of a moose under the pine tree to the left of the front door. The key’s in its mouth.”