Apple Turnover Murder

Chapter Sixteen

It was just as her grandmother Ingrid had said. Old habits died hard. Hannah’s eyes flew open on the dot of four twenty-nine and she reached out to shut off the alarm before it could ring. When her fingers touched the button that wasn’t pulled out to activate the alarm, she remembered. This was the morning she could sleep in for an extra two hours. Lisa had promised to recruit Marge and Patsy to help her with the baking.

Two more hours in bed was a luxury. Hannah fell back against the soft pillows and gave a contented sigh. She reached out to pet the cat who was purring on the pillow next to hers, and let her eyes flutter closed. Two more hours of sleep was the best present in the world. She felt just like she had on Christmas morning, years ago, when she’d run down the stairs to find a shiny new bicycle under the tree!

The pillow was soft, the sheets were still warm, and sublime comfort was all around her, from the darkened room with the low glimmer of the bulb in the Tiffany lamp her mother had given her to the fluffy quilt kept ready at the foot of the bed, a precaution in case the morning hours brought the damp or the cold. This morning the air was perfect, both in temperature and in humidity. The slight breeze from the screened window was like a caress on her skin, and she was totally relaxed. She was tired, yes. But she wasn’t sleepy. Not a bit. Not even a smidgen. And her mind was doing jumping jacks behind her closed eyelids, begging for its morning coffee.

Hannah mumbled a word she’d never use around her young nieces and sat up in bed. Since she couldn’t go back to sleep, she might as well get up and start the day. Perhaps she’d have time for a nap in the afternoon. Just because she hadn’t napped since she was three years old didn’t mean it couldn’t happen today.

Once she’d showered and dressed, Hannah hurried down the hallway, being careful to tread quietly as she passed the guest room. Michelle hadn’t gotten much sleep either, and before Delores had left, she’d told Michelle to take the morning off and come in at noon.

As she approached the kitchen, Hannah began to frown. The bright lights were on. She must have been so tired last night that she’d forgotten to switch them off.

“Hannah!” Michelle gasped, so startled she came very close to knocking over the mug of coffee she was drinking at the kitchen table. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Woke up. Couldn’t sleep,” Hannah explained in the fewest words possible. This was not the time for an involved explanation that would take precious time, not when her throat felt parched and every cell in her body was screaming for caffeine.

Hannah poured herself a cup of coffee, carried it over to the table, and sat down in a chair. She took the first lifesaving sip, gave a sigh of utter contentment, and took another. The body was beginning to function again and the brain wasn’t far behind. Another few sips and there should be a full lexicon of words at her disposal.

“I couldn’t sleep, either,” Michelle admitted. “I kept thinking about that last fight I had with him. I told him I hoped he’d choke on a mango and die!”

“It must run in the family.”

“You told him you hoped he’d choke on a mango?” Michelle asked incredulously.

“I said a cantaloupe, but it’s close enough. I assume he was still in the habit of eating fruit for breakfast?”

“Right.” Michelle drew a deep breath. “And speaking of breakfast, I made some.”

“I thought I smelled something good, and I didn’t think it was leftover baking smells from last night.”

“I baked Breakfast in a Muffin, and I think they’re cool enough to eat. Do you want one?”

“Of course I want one. Is this another one of your creations?”

“Yes.” Michelle went over to the counter and brought back two muffins on a plate. “It’s for people on the go, like you and me. It’s got bacon and egg and cheese on top. I tried one and they’re good.”

“It sounds good,” Hannah said, breaking open a muffin, slathering it with butter, and taking a bite. She chewed, swallowed, and smiled. “It is good, and it’s a great idea for the coffee shop. A lot of people feel guilty eating cookies for breakfast, but they’d gobble these right up.”

Michelle was silent as Hannah ate her muffin. Her forehead was furrowed and Hannah could tell she was thinking about something that was bothering her deeply. “What’s the matter, Michelle?” she asked.

“I’ve been thinking about that book you found in Bradford’s office, the one with the poetry he said he wrote.”

“Yes?” Hannah took another sip of her coffee.

“Well, I think there’s a precedence for using someone else’s work…in academia, I mean.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Bradford used Tim Pearson’s work.”

Hannah got up to refill her coffee mug. “Who’s Tim Pearson?” she asked as she carried it back to the table.

“He’s Bradford’s research assistant, and he brought me home after the jazz concert on Sunday night. All the full professors have research assistants. Bradford brought Tim with him from Macalester because they were working on a project together.”

“What kind of a project?” Hannah asked, even though she wasn’t sure how important that was.

“Bradford said it was a study of seventeenth-century roots in eighteenth-century English poetry. He told me all about it. He said that it had turned into a really hot topic, and he had to publish fast before some other professor from another college beat him to it.”

“Did he make it?”

“Yes, and it’s a real coup for Macalester to have one of their professors lead the field on such an important topic. Bradford told me he was sure he’d be department head next year.”

“Was it publish or perish?”

“I think so. But the thing is, I don’t think Bradford wrote any of that paper. I’m pretty sure Tim wrote the whole thing.”

“Did Tim get his name on it, too?”

“No. We talked about that when he brought me home on Sunday night. He told me he didn’t expect any kind of credit.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s almost never done. The professor takes full credit, and the research assistant just does his job.”

Hannah bristled slightly. Inequity always disturbed her. Perhaps it was a good thing that she hadn’t stayed in academia. “That really doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“I feel exactly the same way, but Tim told me it was a barter thing, that there was a job as an assistant professor at the community college and Bradford was going to recommend him for it. That was his payment for all the work he did on the project. Tim said the job was a sure thing and he was really looking forward to teaching in Lake Eden.”

“So Bradford recommended him and Tim got the job?”

Michelle stared at Hannah for a moment, and then she began to frown. “I don’t know. I think Tim said the selection committee was supposed to meet yesterday morning.”

Both sisters were quiet for a long, tense moment and then Michelle spoke. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I’m almost certain I am. Do you know anybody at the college who’d know if Tim really did get the job?”

“Someone besides Tim, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Not really, unless…” Michelle paused, and then she smiled. “Let’s ask Mother to ask her friend, Nancy.”

“Good idea! Dr. Nancy might know, and if she doesn’t, she can find out.”

“I’ll ask Mother to call her and get right back to you. But even if Tim didn’t get the job, he’s really not the kind to…” Michelle stopped speaking and gave a little sigh. “I keep forgetting.”

“What?” Hannah asked her.

“I keep forgetting what you told me after you caught Larry Jaeger’s killer. That almost everyone is capable of murder under just the right circumstances.”

When Hannah and Michelle got to The Cookie Jar, they found Lisa hard at work with Marge and Patsy. The first baker’s rack was already filled with baked cookies, and more were coming out of the ovens.

“You should have slept a lot later, Hannah,” Lisa chided her. “We’ve got everything under control here.”

“But I had to get here before you opened so I could tell you about finding the body, and you could embellish it to thrill our customers.”

Lisa laughed as she handed Hannah a cup of coffee from the kitchen coffee pot. “I was going to make the whole thing up, but it’s better if part of it’s true. Herb wants to talk to you first, though. He’s in the coffee shop having a cup of coffee. Just go on in and I’ll join you in a couple of minutes.”

Hannah took a deep breath and pushed through the swinging door to the coffee shop. The first sight that met her eyes was a reflection of the eastern sky in the plate glass window of Lake Eden Realty across the street. The sky was a dim blue glow that was only slightly lighter than the darkness that framed the window. Hannah knew that the blue glow would soon lighten to violet, and then to pink. A few moments later it would take on a yellow tone, and finally it would graduate to a golden expanse of brilliance as the sun rose.

“Hannah?” a voice called her from the back table.

“Hello, Herb.” Hannah carried her coffee cup to the table and sat down. “I hope you didn’t have a bad night because of me.”

“I sure wish I hadn’t overheard that conversation,” Herb said. “I just wanted you to know that I’m not going to say a word about it to anybody, and that includes Lisa and the authorities.”

Hannah reached out to pat his hand. “Thanks, Herb. I already told Mike all about it, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to anyone else. It’s…well…it’s embarrassing.”

“We’ve all got embarrassing things in our past,” Herb said, giving her hand a little squeeze. “There are a couple of things that happened to me way back when that I’d rather Lisa wouldn’t know about.”

“I understand. I wouldn’t want Michelle to know about that conversation I had with Bradford Ramsey, either.”

“She won’t hear it from me.” Herb took a sip of his coffee, and then he chuckled. “Lisa’s all excited about telling the story of how you found the professor. I think I married a frustrated actress.”

“Who’s a frustrated actress?” Lisa arrived at their table and plunked down her coffee cup. “I’m just glad you’re here early, Hannah. Now you can give me some tidbits, and I can make up the rest.”

Hannah smiled at her partner. She was surprised that the Lake Eden Players, their amateur theater group, hadn’t waged an active campaign to recruit Lisa for their leading lady.

“I was still in the dressing room when I realized that it was time for the second act to start,” Hannah told her. And then she proceeded to tell Lisa the details.

“Perfect!” Lisa exclaimed when Hannah was through. “Just hide out in the kitchen and I’ll handle all the questions about the murder. We’re going to sell a gazillion cookies today!”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Hannah said. And then she wondered how Bradford would have felt to know that he was worth at least five times his weight in cookies.