Apple Turnover Murder

Chapter Seventeen

Marge pushed through the swinging door to the coffee shop, and Hannah heard part of Lisa’s rendition. Her partner was telling their customers the tale of how Hannah had found the professor’s body.

“Professor Ramsey?” Hannah asked softly, but the only sounds she heard were the rustling of people fanning themselves with their programs, a low murmuring as they speculated on why intermission was lasting so long, and an occasional cough from the victim of a summer cold.

Lisa paused, and Hannah couldn’t help but smile. Her young partner was a great storyteller.

“Wake up, Professor Ramsey” Lisa went on. “It’s time for the second act!” Hannah’s voice was a little louder, cutting through the noise behind the velvet curtain so that he could hear her. But again, he did not answer. She walked forward, right up to the chair where he was sitting and took hold of his shoulder with her fingers.

Hannah heard several gasps from the audience. They knew what was coming.

His shoulder was cold, but Hannah decided that was due to the powerful air-conditioning system they used on the stage to combat the heat from the white hot lights. She gave a little shake with her hand and leaned close to his ear. “Wake up! Everybody’s waiting for you!”

He did not wake, and Hannah shook his shoulder again, a bit harder. And then harder still until…to her horror…he toppled from the chair like a rag doll, arms and legs flopping helplessly to land on the stage in a tangled heap.

“Poor Hannah!” someone exclaimed. Hannah was almost positive it was Bertie Straub.

“Shhh!” someone else warned. “Go on, Lisa.”

Hannah’s hands flew to her mouth to muffle her startled gasp. What was wrong with Professor Ramsey? Could he possibly be drunk? But there was no smell of strong spirits emanating from his open mouth as he lay there perfectly still, perfectly unmoving, perfectly silent. Hannah glanced down at him, horrified. And then she knew…

The door swung closed behind Marge and Lisa’s recital was cut short. Hannah chuckled so hard, she had to sit down at a stool at the workstation. Between the murder mysteries Lisa had been reading on the nights Herb worked late, and her natural flair for the dramatic, they really ought to sell tickets instead of cookies.

She’d just taken the last sheet of cookies from the oven when there was a knock on the back door. Hannah slid the cookies onto the baker’s rack, wiped her hands on a towel, and went to the back door to open it.

“Hannah.” It was Mike and he looked a bit contrite. “I know you’re working, but I really need to talk to you for a minute.”

Hannah smiled and ushered him to a seat at the workstation. “Coffee?” she asked.

“Only if you have time.”

“I’ve got plenty of time. Lisa’s out there performing a solo play called, Hannah Finds the Professor’s Body, Marge is dishing up cookies by the dozen, Jack is going around with the coffee carafe, and Patsy’s running the cash register.”

Mike laughed and shook his head, but he sobered when Hannah brought him a mug of coffee and two cookies. “What are these?” he asked, indicating the cookies. “They’ve got little holes all over them.”

“They’re Sesame Seed Tea Cookies. I got the recipe from Sally when she packed those lunches for the film crew.”

Mike took a bite. “They’re good, and they’re different. I like that. And they go really well with coffee.”

Hannah took a stool across from Mike and waited until he’d finished one cookie. Then she asked, “What can I do for you?”

“I just finished interviewing the victim’s ex-wife. Did you know her?”

“I met her at an English department party, and I saw her around campus, but I really didn’t know her. We said hello when we saw each other and that was about it.”

“Would you say they had a good marriage?”

“I have absolutely no idea.” Hannah looked up at Mike and sighed. “I told you all about it, how he said we’d always be together, and all the time he was engaged to her. It was painful for me when I saw them together. I avoided them the best I could, but the campus still wasn’t big enough for the three of us.”

“Do you think he told her about you?”

“I’m almost sure he didn’t. I’m basing that assumption on the fact that he didn’t tell me about her. She certainly didn’t act as if she knew. Stacey was always quite friendly when we met.”

“Stacey?”

“Yes. Her name was Stacey.”

“You’re absolutely sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. As far as I was concerned, she was the other woman!”

“When did they get married?”

“Let me see…” Hannah thought back to that unhappy time in her life. “It was a little over four years ago, I think.”

“Uh-oh,” Mike said, rubbing his eyes. “The woman I interviewed wasn’t Stacey. Her name was Marilyn Ramsey.”

“But that’s impossible unless…Marilyn must be another ex-wife.”

“You’re probably right.” Mike flipped through his notebook. “I didn’t ask her when they were married. Turns out I should have. I’ll do a search for Stacey Ramsey and interview her, too. Two ex-wives in four years…the professor sure got around, didn’t he?”

“I guess he did,” Hannah admitted.

“You knew that about him?”

Hannah shook her head. “I trusted him completely.”

“You did?”

“Yes. Isn’t that what people in love are supposed to do?”

Mike thought that over for a long moment and then he got up, walked around the workstation, and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

“Yes. And that’s probably why I love you so much,” he said.

There was a buzzing in her ears like a thousand mosquitoes had descended on her arm. Hannah adjusted her cheek on the hard surface and decided that she was too tired to wave them away. After all, mosquitoes had to eat, too.

The buzzing continued, but her arm felt fine. It wasn’t itching, or swelling, or feeling any other way than normal. Perhaps the mosquitoes didn’t like her blood. That was the reason Norman always gave for the fact that mosquitoes didn’t seem to bite him.

There was a breeze as a door opened. Hannah felt it, but she didn’t open her eyes. And then she felt eyes staring at her. A giant mosquito who’d come to feast on her and leave her drained dry like an empty husk? The chorus of mosquitoes was still buzzing. Were they, perhaps, paying homage to their leader?

“Hannah? You’re going to get a stiff neck sleeping like that,” a voice said very close to her ear. “And your stove timer’s ringing. Do you want me to take something out of the oven for you?”

Marge. It was Marge’s voice. The giant mosquito sounded exactly like Marge. Hannah lifted her head from the stainless steel work surface and blinked groggily. It was Marge.

“Is there something in the oven?” Marge asked.

“Cookies,” Hannah just barely managed to say.

“Just sit there. I’ll get them. And then I’ll pour you a cup of coffee so you can wake up. Norman’s out front and he wants to see you.”

“Norman,” Hannah mumbled. The stainless steel surface of the workstation was beckoning. Who would dream that stainless steel could be so comfortable. But Norman was here and she had to wake up.

“Drink this,” Marge said, much too soon to suit Hannah, as she plunked a mug of coffee down next to Hannah’s head. “Wake up and smell the caffeine.”

One sniff and Hannah felt almost alive. Another sniff and she sat up to reach for the mug. She took a sip of the scalding hot brew and gave a grateful sigh. “Coffee. Good,” she said.

“You sound like Frankenstein’s monster,” Marge said, chuckling at her own joke. “You’d better have more coffee before I send Norman back here to see you.”

Hannah took another sip. And then she took another. With each swallow, the curtain of sleep lifted slowly from her eyes. By the time she’d drained the coffee mug, she felt almost like her old self again.

“Ready?” Marge asked her.

“Ready. I didn’t burn any cookies, did I?”

“No. Do you feel better after your sleep?”

Hannah made a quick assessment. She felt more alert than she had all day, and other than the soreness in her neck, she seemed to be just fine. “I’m a lot better now. It’s amazing how refreshing a ten-minute nap can be.”

Marge laughed. “It wasn’t ten minutes,” she said. “It was more like an hour and a half. I looked in twice through the window on the door and you were sleeping like a baby.”

“I don’t understand. I distinctly remember setting the timer for ten minutes. If I really did sleep for an hour and a half, the cookies would be incinerated.”

“That’s true,” Marge said, and then she turned around to point to the sheets of unbaked cookies on the baker’s rack. “But you forgot to put them in the oven!”

“Hi, Hannah.” Norman walked into the kitchen. “I had an hour between appointments, and I thought I’d drop in to see you.”

“That’s nice. Do you have time for cookies and coffee?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“Which kind of cookie would you like?”

“Whatever you have handy will be fine. All of your cookies are great.”

Hannah went to the coffee pot to pour Norman a cup. They were being unbearably polite. It was almost as if they were strangers, and that was about as far from the truth as you could get.

“How’s Cuddles?” Hannah asked as she handed Norman his coffee mug and went to the baker’s rack to fill a small plate with cookies.

“She’s fine. I think she was happy to get home, but I’m pretty sure she misses Moishe. When we went to bed, it took her a while to get comfortable. And maybe I’m imagining things, but I thought she looked a little lonely. I figured that was because both cats slept with you and she missed the company.”

Hannah smiled as she delivered the plate of cookies. “You’re right. They both slept in my bed and there was barely room for me. I was absolutely amazed how much space two cats can take up when they’re all stretched out.”

“It’s pretty amazing, all right. I’ll bet you slept better last night.”

“I was so tired last night, I went to sleep the minute my head hit the pillow. But I did notice that Moishe seemed a little restless. Maybe it was a dream, but I thought he kept going back and forth into the living room.”

“That’s what Cuddles did!”

“Do you think she was looking for Moishe?”

“Maybe. And maybe Moishe was looking for Cuddles.” Norman gave a little chuckle. “We might have to arrange sleepovers for the cats. On Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and alternate Sundays, I get Moishe. And on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and alternate Sundays, you get Cuddles.”

“Do we need Howie Levine to draw us up an order for joint custody?” Hannah joked. And she was rewarded with a big laugh from Norman. Hearing him laugh made her feel better immediately. He seemed almost like his old self again.

“You’re going to investigate, aren’t you?” Norman asked, biting into a cookie. “I like these, Hannah. They’re not too sweet and they crunch. They’d be really good with a dish of ice cream.”

“Thank you. They’re Sesame Seed Tea Cookies. And yes, I’m going to investigate.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I’m sure there is, but I don’t know what it is yet.” Hannah stopped and thought for a moment. “You could help me put together my suspect list. You’re good at things like that.”

“I’d be glad to help.”

“Good. Maybe we can do it at dinner before we go to the school.”

“The school?”

“You know. For Casino Night. I’ve never been to a fundraiser like that, but everyone says it’s lots of fun. You got the advance tickets, didn’t you?”

“Oh. Sure I did.”

“If you don’t mind, let’s not go all the way out to the inn for dinner. I really should help out for an hour on the apple turnover assembly line. If you pick me up at six-thirty, we’ll still have time to grab a hamburger at the cafe and get over to the school by seven-thirty.”

“Fine.” Norman said, finishing his cookies and standing up. “I’ll see you at six-thirty then.”

Hannah watched as he carried his mug to the sink. He gave a little wave as he went out through the swinging door to the coffee shop and she smiled and waved back. But the moment the door had swung closed behind him, her smile disappeared like one of Herb’s multicolored scarves. She supposed it was possible that she was mistaken, but she was almost positive that Norman had forgotten all about the plans they’d made for dinner and Casino Night before he’d left Lake Eden.