Blueberry Muffin Murder

-20- "So what are your plans for the rest of the day?" Hannah asked Lisa when they'd finished loading the cookies into the back of her truck.

 

"I'm taking Dad on a tour of the Ezekiel Jordan House and we're making an appointment to have our pictures taken. Then we're going to the park to watch the family snowman contest."

 

"I'll see you there," Hannah told her. "Tracey's entered, and since Bill is working, I promised Andrea I'd help. Janie's coming along with me to watch."

 

"Tell Janie she can watch with us. I really like her, and I know Dad would like to see her again. I mentioned her name to him and he actually remembered her from years ago."

 

"He remembers quite a few things from the past, doesn't he?"

 

"That's one of the strange things about his memory. Dad can recall things from twenty or thirty years ago, but new things don't seem to register. Every time I take him to the senior center, he gets all excited because he thinks he's going there for the first time."

 

"At least he's never bored," Hannah said, attempting to put the brightest face on things. She knew Alzheimer's was a terrible disease, and that it was degenerative. The time could come when Jack Herman might not even remember his daughter.

 

"Don't be sad, Hannah." Lisa reached out to touch her arm. "I know Dad's prognosis, but at least he's happy now."

 

"He's very lucky he's got you," Hannah said, giving Lisa's hand a comforting pat. "And thanks for offering to entertain Janie while I'm off making a fool of myself."

 

Five minutes later, Hannah was zipping down the road toward her first venue. She was dropping off cookies at Jordan High, and the parking lot at the school ice rink was already dotted with cars. When she pulled in, she saw a familiar face, or at least part of one. It was Craig Kimball, and he was wearing a blaze orange ski mask.

 

"Hi, Miss Swensen!" Craig hailed her as she got out of her truck. "Do you need some help with your cookies?"

 

"Are you offering? I've got a bag of new cookies you can try if you are."

 

"You bet." Craig's eyes crinkled at the corners, and Hannah knew he was smiling behind all that orange yarn. "Just let me rope a couple of my friends into helping and we'll only have to make one trip."

 

Hannah opened the back of her truck while Craig jogged over to a group of Jordan High seniors. Before she had time to pick up the first box of cookies, she had six eager helpers. They carried the cookies over to the warm-up tent, and Hannah was amazed to see about a dozen spectators already in the bleachers that surrounded the rink. They were huddled in the front row in a tight little group, drinking steaming cups of coffee.

 

Once she'd paid off her volunteers, Hannah turned to Linda Nelson, who was running the counter. She was a senior, and Mrs. Baxter had told Hannah that she was the best homemaker in the class. "It looks like you've sold some coffee already."

 

"We sold one whole urn and we just made the second," Linda told her. "It's cold out there."

 

"What time does the speed-skating competition start?"

 

"At one o'clock. Some of the parents came early to see the warm-ups. You should come back to see it, Miss Swensen. Barry Withers is just incredible. If he can shave off a tenth of a second, he'll break the school record."

 

Hannah took one look at Linda's shining eyes and figured that a little romance might be brewing right along with that fresh urn of coffee. "I'll come back if I can. Right now I've got tons of cookies to deliver."

 

"Would you like a cup of coffee for the road?"

 

"I'd love it, thanks. And if you see Barry, tell him that I'm rooting for him."

 

Less than five minutes later, Hannah was back on the road, a fresh cup of coffee resting in the plastic carrier between her seats. The town baseball field was her next destination, and she was right on schedule.

 

As she pulled into the parking lot, Hannah saw that there was a flurry of activity out on the field. Two parka-clad teams of students were building snow forts at opposite ends of the field. In less than an hour, the "Great Snowball War" would begin, and the preparations were underway. Gil Surma, Jordan High's counselor and the assistant coach of the basketball team, was the general of the blue army stationed at first base. His team wore blue ski masks. The boys in the rival red army, which sported red ski masks, were engaged in building a fort by third base. They were commanded by their principal, Mr. Purvis. Both "generals" were out on the field, supervising the stockpiling of munitions to make sure that no foreign objects, such as rocks or chunks of ice, were rolled into the snowballs that were being stacked inside the forts.

 

Hannah parked as close to the warm-up tent as she could and got out to open the back of her truck. She stacked up as many boxes as she thought she could carry in one trip, picked them up with both arms, and headed for the entrance to the tent.

 

"Steady, Hannah." A familiar voice greeted her and strong arms reached out to take the top three boxes. "You were getting a little wobbly there."

 

Hannah smiled the moment the boxes were removed and she could see who her rescuer was. "Hi, Norman. How are you feeling?"

 

"Fine. My headache is gone and Doc Knight took off that bulky bandage. He says the stitches are already starting to heal."

 

"That's good. Did he say it was all right to judge the contest?"

 

Norman shook his head, and Hannah noticed that he winced slightly. No doubt his head was still sore. "I'm not judging. I came out here to take a couple of pictures for the school photography club."

 

"Doesn't the photography club take its own pictures?"

 

"Yes, but they asked me to come as backup. They want a shot of Mr. Purvis getting pelted for the yearbook."

 

"I guess things haven't changed that much." Hannah was grinning as they walked inside the warm-up tent with their sugary burden. "When I went to high school, we were al: ways trying to get embarrassing pictures of our principal. You'd better not get too close to the action or you'll get a face full of snow."

 

"I know. That's why I'm using a telephoto lens," Norman explained, handing his boxes to one of Mrs. Baxter's students and following Hannah out to get more cookies.

 

After they'd carried in the last of the boxes that Mrs. Baxter had ordered, Hannah asked Norman to walk her back to her truck. When they arrived, she opened the passenger door. "Get in for a minute, Norman. I need to talk to you."

 

"Okay." Norman slid into the passenger seat and Hannah walked around to get in on the driver's side. Once she was settled, Norman turned to her. "What is it, Hannah?"

 

"I did something this morning that you might not like, but I had your best interests in mind," Hannah told him, and then she gave him the details of the story she'd planted with Larry Kruger.

 

"I wish you hadn't done that," Norman said when she was finished. "I rather fancied myself as bait. Is there any way you can retract that story?"

 

Hannah shook her head. "No way. I'm sorry if you don't like it, Norman, but I have enough to do without worrying about you."

 

"You were worried about me?"

 

"Of course I was. I was scared stiff that you'd go out and do something really stupid!"

 

The moment the words left Hannah's mouth, she wished that she could call them back. She'd completely forgotten about tact and what Lisa had advised her to say. She expected Norman to climb out of her truck and refuse to speak to her ever again, but all he did was grin.

 

"You're not mad?" Hannah asked him.

 

"I wish you'd asked me first, but I'm not mad. Actually, I'm quite the opposite." With that comment, Norman pulled her into his arms and hugged her hard. And then he tipped up her head and kissed her. For a moment, Hannah was so startled, she almost resisted. Then nature took over and she found herself enjoying Norman's kiss thoroughly. Her instinct was to throw her arms around his neck and keep him right there in the front seat of her truck for a long, indefinite period, but before she could act on her impulse, Norman pulled back to smile at her.

 

"See? I'm not mad," he said, reaching out to tweak her nose. Then he opened the door and climbed out of her truck. "See you later, Hannah. I need to get some shots of Mr. Purvis inspecting those snowballs."

 

As Hannah drove off, she was smiling. She felt comforted, and warm, and more at peace than she'd been in days. But then her thoughts turned to Mike and she began to frown. She'd enjoyed Mike's kisses in the past, and she'd also enjoyed Norman's kiss. There was one big difference between the two. Mike's kisses made her feel sexy, on the verge of something slightly dangerous and very exciting. And Norman's kisses made her feel sexy, and natural, and good all over.

 

Hannah sighed. It was impossible to compare Mike and Norman. Mike was the man of her dreams, and Norman was the man of her wide-awake hours. And every time she tried to choose one over the other, she ended up wanting both of them.

 

Lake Eden Park was a hubbub of activity when Hannah arrived. Several shuttle sleighs were just arriving, and Hannah loaded herself up with boxes and carried them carefully through the crowd.

 

"The cookies are here!" one of Mrs. Baxter's girls called out as Hannah entered the warm-up tent. She rushed over to take the boxes and motioned to two other girls. "Come on. Let's go help Miss Swensen unload."

 

With four of them working, the unloading didn't take long. On the trips back and forth to her truck, Hannah learned that the girls had opened their concession thirty minutes early, they had already gone through three urns of coffee and one of hot chocolate, and every one of their customers had asked when the cookies would arrive.

 

"Here you go, Miss Swensen." One of the girls handed Hannah a hot cup of coffee without asking. "Thanks for the cookies."

 

Hannah left the tent intending to go straight back to her truck, but she changed her mind halfway there. It wouldn't hurt to check out the site to see which area they'd be using.

 

The family snowman contest would take place in the center of the park. As Hannah walked closer, she saw that the individual squares had been marked with brightly colored rope tied to ski poles. Each area was tagged and Hannah found theirs, number fifteen. It had a good-sized drift of snow in the center, and Hannah figured they'd have more than enough to make a man-sized snowman.

 

As she turned to leave, her eyes were drawn to a tall, familiar figure in a maroon sheriff's-issue parka. It was Mike, and he was talking to a woman she didn't know, a gorgeous platinum blond in a bright-red ski outfit. Under normal circumstances, Hannah would have walked over to say hello, but these weren't normal circumstances. She was just turning to go in the opposite direction when Mike spotted her.

 

"Hi, Hannah!" A huge grin spread over Mike's face and he waved his arms.

 

Hannah grinned back. She didn't want to, but she couldn't help it. There was something about Mike's grin that was contagious.

 

"Come over here for a minute," he called out, motioning to her. "I've got someone I want you to meet."

 

"Of all the people in all this snow, I have to run into him!" Hannah muttered, borrowing heavily from Casablanca. If Mike meant the blond, and she was sure he did, Hannah didn't want to meet her. On the other hand, they knew she'd seen them, and to ignore them would be rude.

 

"'Hannah Swensen, this is Kristi Hampton," Mike said. "Kristi was Mrs. MacIntyre's personal beautician."

 

"Glad to meet you," Hannah said without meaning it.

 

"Likewise," Kristi responded, but she didn't give Hannah more than a fleeting glance before she turned back to Mike.

 

"Is it too late to enter the contest? I don't have family here, but I could recruit you."

 

"Sorry, I'm working." Mike looked a bit embarrassed, and Hannah could see why. Kristi had her hand on his sleeve and was stroking it like the owner of a prized stallion.

 

"So, Hannah," Mike said, turning to her, "why are you here?"

 

Hannah smiled. It didn't hurt to be friendly, and Kristi had worked for Connie Mac. Perhaps she could learn something. "I just delivered cookies to the warm-up tent. I've got extras in my truck if you and Kristi haven't had breakfast."

 

"Thanks, but I never eat breakfast," Kristi said with a sultry gaze at Mike, "unless I've been up all night. And I already had my breakfast. Besides, I have to watch my carbs."

 

"I don't, and I could use a cookie," Mike said.

 

"Well, that's different." Kristi patted Mike's arm. "You men have to keep up your strength."

 

Mike smiled and removed her hand from his sleeve. "Excuse me, Kristi. I'm going to walk Hannah to her truck. I have to talk to her about something private."

 

Hannah's eyebrows shot up as Mike grabbed her arm and they set off at a fast pace across the snow. She had all she could do to resist the urge to turn back and thumb her nose.

 

"I've got two pieces of news for you, Hannah." Mike's grip tightened on her arm. "Is Miss Burkholtz still staying with you?"

 

"Yes, she is. Is that against the law?"

 

"Of course not. It was nice of you to take her in. I just wanted to tell you that Bill and I worked late last night doing interviews with Mrs. MacIntyre's staff. I drew Kristi, and she was very cooperative."

 

I'll just bet she was, Hannah thought, but she didn't say it. She just waited for Mike to go on.

 

"I wanted you to know that Miss Burkholtz is in the clear."

 

Hannah almost forgave him for the sultry look that Kristi had given him. "That's great! Just wait until I tell her."

 

"One of the maids that Bill interviewed said she saw Miss Burkholtz leaving the hotel at ten minutes to twelve on the night that Mrs. MacIntyre was murdered. And Kristi told me that she saw her pull into the parking lot at the inn at ten."

 

"And since my shop is twenty-five minutes from the inn, Janie has an alibi?"

 

"That's right. Kristi was just leaving the parking lot, and Miss Burkholtz took the spot she vacated. I checked it out."

 

"How did you do that?" Hannah was curious.

 

"I took Kristi out to the bar at the mall last night, and a couple of the guys remembered that she walked in at ten-twenty. I'm not surprised they noticed her. Kristi's a very attractive woman."

 

Hannah bit her tongue so she wouldn't ask how long Mike's interview with Kristi had lasted and exactly where they'd gone after they'd left the bar. She told herself she should be grateful to Kristi for providing Janie's alibi, but that did nothing to reduce the sharp stab of jealousy she felt.

 

"You said you had two pieces of news for me. What's the second?"

 

"I cleared Norman Rhodes."

 

"How did you do that??

 

"It was that attack he suffered last night. At first I thought it might be faked, but there's no way he could have bashed himself on the back of the head. I think the murderer hit Norman and only Luanne Hanks's arrival kept him from being killed. What I don't know is why Mrs. MacIntyre's murderer was after Norman."

 

"I do," Hannah said, unlocking the passenger door to her truck. "Climb in and have a cookie, and I'll tell you."

 

Mike went through four cookies in the time it told her to tell her story, and Hannah figured that it was a good investment. When she was finished, she leaned back in her seat with a sigh. "What do you think? Does it make sense?"

 

"It makes perfect sense. Good for you for figuring it out. Just between you and me, Hannah, I'm really glad that Norman's off my suspect list."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because suspecting Norman made me really uncomfortable. My gut instincts told me that he was innocent, but what if I'd been wrong? I had to warn you, Hannah."

 

"I understand."

 

"There's another thing, too. I was afraid you'd think I was jealous of your relationship with Norman, and that was the reason I put him on my suspect list."

 

"Really? I didn't even think of that!"

 

"You didn't?"

 

"It never crossed my mind," Hannah told him quite truthfully. It had crossed Andrea's mind, not hers. "You aren't, are you? Jealous, I mean?"

 

"No. To tell you the truth, I'm relieved. I'm just not ready to settle down yet, and I'd feel guilty if you just sat around like a lovesick teenager and waited for me to call."

 

Hannah bristled. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

 

"I know. I figure the time will come when I want that kind of commitment again, but not right now. If I did want to get remarried, though. . ." Mike reached across the seat and pulled Hannah into his arms. He kissed her until both of them were breathless, and then he chuckled. "When I get to that point, you'll be the first to know."

 

Hannah sighed, still a little dazed from Mike's kiss. She had the urge to cuddle back up to him, but he'd been the one to break their embrace.

 

"I'll tell you one thing. Norman really impressed me."

 

"He did?"

 

"Absolutely. He left a message on my voice mail and I just retrieved it a couple of minutes ago. Do you know that he offered himself for bait so that we could set a trap for the killer?"

 

Hannah winced, wondering if she had messed up some sort of sting operation by planting the ghost story with Larry Kruger. "Are you going to take him up on it?"

 

"Of course not. We can't involve a civilian in something that dangerous. I called him right back to tell him that, but he wasn't home. I think we'll arrange a tail for him, though. He could be in real danger."

 

"I already took care of that," Hannah said. And then she told Mike what she'd done. "I was worried about him and I thought he might try to do something on his own."

 

Mike stopped in the act of taking another cookie and gave her a sharp look. "You were worried about Norman?"

 

"Of course I was. Norman's one of my very best friends." Mike stared at her for a moment. "Yeah, he's a nice guy.

 

Well. . . I've got to get back to work. Thanks for the cookies, Hannah."

 

Hannah waved at him as she pulled out of the parking lot and headed back to her condo to pick up Janie. As she zipped down the highway, she reached up to touch her lips with the tip of her finger. The thrill of Mike's kisses always lingered, and they made her hunger for more. But Norman's kiss had lingered, too. What kind of woman could be in love with two men? Or did it mean that she wasn't really in love with either of them?