“I told the mayor it would last between one and two minutes, but I really don’t know how long it should be. What do you think?”
“I think you were right on track. It shouldn’t last any longer than two minutes, and it could be as short as one minute. That’s a long time to eat banana pudding and whipped cream as fast as you can, and that’s all our pies will be without crusts. We’ll have to get a really loud buzzer, or a bell, or something like that.”
“I’ve got that covered already. I checked with the gym teacher and the school has a big time clock they use for timed athletic events. We can borrow it and set it on the judges’ table so everyone who’s watching can see it, too. At the end of the time, it buzzes really loud. Then we’ll have the judges inspect the pie plates and declare the winner.”
“Perfect.”
“I think we need three judges. Who do you think I should ask? Mother had some good ideas for the contestants, but I didn’t ask her about the judges.”
Hannah considered that for a moment before she gave her opinion. “I’m not sure, but it should be someone who’ll draw a big crowd. Since you’re selling tickets to the contest, you should decide that today and have Rod put it in the paper. Let’s go ask Mother to see who she suggests. She’s only a block away.”
“Is she home?”
“We won’t know unless we call her. And we’re practically on her doorstep. Call her, Michelle. And ask her if she’s receiving.”
“Receiving?”
“Yes. She’ll get a kick out of that. It means receiving visitors and that’s what they called it in Regency days. You dropped by the manor and the butler brought out a silver salver for your calling card. He took it to the lady of the house and she either received you, or he came back to say that she was not available for callers.”
“And now all we have to do is call on our cell phone and say, ‘Hey, are you home?’”
“That’s right. Everything’s a shortcut in today’s world.”
“I know,” Michelle agreed. “Mother would argue that the old world was more civilized.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t think she’d enjoy using the convenience in the backyard of the manor house.”
“Is a convenience an outhouse?”
“Yes, and it probably wasn’t as convenient as the one Grandma Elsa had on her farm.”
Michelle laughed out loud. “You’re right. I remember going out there before they got indoor plumbing. Grandma Elsa’s was heated in the winter.”
“And she had a fan in the summer,” Hannah reminded her. “I remember tripping over that extension cord she ran from the house and skinning my knee.”
“And I remember how cold it was to walk out there in the winter. But I really loved to go to the farm. Grandma Swensen always baked cookies for us and let us help her. Do you think that’s why we enjoy baking so much?”
“I think that has a lot to do with it. Call Mother and we’ll leave the truck here. It’s not too cold today and we can just walk over there if she’s home.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Thirty minutes later, Hannah and Michelle walked in the back door of The Cookie Jar. After they’d hung their coats on the rack, Michelle headed straight for the kitchen coffeepot, and Hannah grabbed the thick, plastic-coated recipe book and took a stool at the workstation.
Michelle walked over with a cup of coffee and placed it in front of Hannah. “Drink this. You’re looking tired.”
“I am,” Hannah admitted, “but I got more sleep than I usually do. I just don’t understand it.”
“It’s taking a while to solve this murder. Maybe that’s it. Do you feel that you’re spinning your wheels?”
“Yes. That could be it, Michelle. I’m doing everything I can, but I’m not catching a break anywhere.”
“It could also be because Ross isn’t here. I’m sure you must miss him.”
“I do miss him. It’s probably mostly because we were together twenty-four seven for a solid week. And now it’s like I’m back to being single again.”
There was a knock on the back kitchen door and Michelle began to grin. “Just what you need . . . a diversion of some sort. Shall I go let it in?”
Hannah laughed. “Yes, but don’t call it it. It’s got to be someone we know and they might take offense.”
“Yes, Mother,” Michelle said, giving Hannah a saucy look. “I’ll go see who it is.”
“Norman!” Hannah said a few moments later when she saw who Michelle was ushering into the kitchen. “Sit down and have a cup of coffee with us.”
“I could use a cup of coffee now that I’m through for the day,” Norman told them. “Two root canals, a broken crown, and an impacted wisdom tooth make for a long afternoon.” He sat down next to Hannah and gave her a little pat on the shoulder. “How are two of my favorite Swensen sisters?”
“We’re fine,” Hannah said noticing that he hadn’t used her married name. Of course, Norman was technically right. She was still a Swensen sister, married or not.
“Change that to I’m fine,” Michelle told him. “Hannah’s tired and depressed.”
“About your investigation?” Norman asked her.
“Yes.” It was the easy answer and Hannah took it. “Except for Tori’s business manager, and that’s really a long shot, I’m fresh out of suspects.”
“How about the man with the black tennis shoes?” Norman asked her. “Did you find out any more about him?”
“Only that he was involved with Tori, but we already knew that since he broke into her apartment to find the love letter, or note, or whatever it was that he’d written to her.”
“But you don’t think he did it, do you?” Michelle asked Hannah.
“No, I don’t.” She turned back to Norman. “Remember how he almost talked to her as if she were still there in the bedroom with him?”
“I’ll never forget it,” Norman said. “It was one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard. I think he was genuinely grieving for her.”
“That’s part of it. And he didn’t sound guilty when he talked to her. He didn’t say, I’m sorry, or, Please forgive me, or anything that would indicate guilt. I just don’t think he acted or sounded like the kind of man who could walk into her condo and shoot her in cold blood.”