Plum Pudding Murder (23 page)

Money could be a motive for murder. What if one of Larry’s investors had killed him because the Crazy Elf Christmas Tree Lot wasn’t making the money that Larry had promised? She’d have to find out if the business was showing a profit or not. Local gossip said it wasn’t, but local gossip had been known to be wrong.

Then there was the gambling angle. Players with a gambling addiction didn’t stop gambling when they had no money. They borrowed or stole money to try their luck one more time. She had to find out if Larry had any gambling debts he couldn’t pay. If so, the person he owed could have killed him.

Love was always a motive. Again, the killer could be Larry’s faux fiancée, Courtney, or his legal wife, Dr. Love. It could even be some other woman who’d been spending time with Larry.

Hannah realized she’d come to the bottom of the page and she flipped it over. Suddenly the blank lines of the steno pad seemed endless and she put her head down on the counter of the workstation to rest her eyes. She was so tired, she couldn’t think straight. She’d take a little break and concentrate on something to relax her, something pleasant, and something that had nothing to do with Larry or his murder. And then she’d get back to work.

“Hannah?”

She sat up with a jolt as Lisa called her name.

“Wake up, Hannah. Andrea and Tracey are here.”

“Here,” Hannah repeated, lifting her head and blinking several times. “Sorry, Lisa. I didn’t get much sleep last night and I must have drifted off for a minute or two.”

“Try thirty, but that’s not a problem. I’ll get them settled back here with coffee, milk, and cookies, while you duck into the bathroom and splash some water on your face.”

That was exactly what Hannah did. The cold water was refreshing and she felt much more alert as she opened the bathroom door and stepped into the kitchen to greet her sister and her oldest niece.

Both Andrea and Tracey were dressed beautifully, but Hannah had expected no less. Her sister had always been fashion model material and today was no exception. Andrea’s shining blond hair was perfectly styled in an elaborate twist that must have taken her hours to perfect, her makeup was flawless, and her dark blue wool suit was exquisitely cut to highlight her perfect figure.

Tracey was a chip off the old block, or in this case, a child model in the making. She wore a quilted lavender and white sweat suit with a lavender ski cap on her head that sported a fluffy white pom-pom on top.

“Hi, Aunt Hannah!” Tracey said, taking off her ski cap and smiling widely to display the gap where one of her front teeth had been. “I lost a baby tooth last night!”

“Did the Tooth Fairy visit?”

“There aren’t any fairies, Aunt Hannah. At least not any real ones. They’re fictional.”

“Do you mean the Tooth Fairy didn’t come into your room while you were sleeping and leave a quarter for your tooth?”

Tracey laughed. “Daddy did that. He thought I was sleeping, but I saw him. He tiptoed in all sneaky-like and left a dollar under my pillow.”

“A whole dollar? Maybe I should write to Tooth Fairy Headquarters and complain. All I ever got was a quarter.”

“That’s inflation, Aunt Hannah. Things cost more now, even baby teeth. I watched a program on television about it.” Tracey turned to her mother. “Is it okay if I go back to the coffee shop and help Aunt Lisa until Grandma McCann comes to get me?”

“Aunt Lisa might not want any help just now, honey.”

“Yes, she does. She said I could come back and wait on customers at the counter if it was okay with you. Besides, I know you and Aunt Hannah want to talk about the Crazy Elf murder.”

“Well…” Andrea paused and glanced at Hannah who gave a slight nod. “Okay then, honey. Just don’t try to pour hot coffee, okay?”

Tracey gave a little sigh. “That’s exactly what Lisa said when I asked her if I could help. I can pour water, can’t I?”

“Yes, if Aunt Lisa wants you to.”

Hannah watched as Tracey picked up her cookie and milk, and headed for the door. Once she’d gone through to the coffee shop, Hannah turned to Andrea. “Tracey knew we wanted to talk about Larry. That’s definitely precocious.”

“And how! And I didn’t say a word to her about it.” Andrea took a sip of her coffee and then she asked, “You’re going after Larry’s killer, aren’t you?”

“Of course. I have to clear Dr. Love.”

Andrea looked bewildered. “What does Dr. Love have to do with Larry’s murder?”

“She was married to Larry, and they never got a divorce.”

“But that’s impossible! Larry was engaged to Courtney!”

Hannah shrugged. “I guess he figured a little thing like being married already shouldn’t stop him.”

“No wonder someone shot him!” Andrea nibbled at her cookie. “I like these, Hannah. What are they called?”

“Chocolate Oatmeal Cookies.”

“Oatmeal?” Andrea gave a delicate little shudder, and Hannah knew she’d made a mistake by telling her. Ever since childhood, Andrea had hated oatmeal.

“It’s really rolled oats,” she explained, hoping that her sister wouldn’t know that was a term for uncooked oatmeal.

“Rolled oats, but not oatmeal?”

“That’s right.”

“And they’re different things?”

“Yes, they are.”

“That must be why I like them. I hate oatmeal, but rolled oats taste just fine.”

It was time to change the subject before more questions about oats were forthcoming. The list of Crazy Elf investors should do it. “I need your help, Andrea,” she said.

“What do you want me to do?”

Promise me you’ll never compare the definitions of oatmeal and rolled oats, Hannah thought, but instead of replying with something that would surely cause a sisterly fissure, she said, “I need to find out who invested money in Larry’s Christmas tree lot. Do you have any idea how I can do that?”

“I’m going to the bank at noon to talk to Doug about setting up a college fund for the girls. I’ll ask him if investors have to file any sort of paperwork.”

“Private investors,” Hannah reminded her. “I don’t think Larry ever went public.”

“You’re probably right. He was too small time for that. And if Doug doesn’t know anything, I’ll talk to Al when he comes back from lunch.” Andrea reached for another cookie and took a bite. “What do you need from Bill?” she asked.

“Crime scene photos aren’t essential. Norman and I were there. I could use the autopsy report and maybe the crime lab sheet. Anything you can get would be good.”

“Then I’ll get it all. How about Larry’s bank records? If he had a lot of money, he could have been killed for that.”

“That’s true.” Hannah thought about possible gambling debts and her theory about failure to pay. “And if he didn’t have much money, he could have been killed for that, too.”

“Huh?” Andrea looked completely bewildered.

“Never mind. It might not even be important. Can you really get Larry’s bank records?”

“I think so. All I have to do is get Bill to ask for them. I think they’ll have to give them to him if he gets a subpoena.”

Hannah thought about that for a minute and then she got up and began to pack candy in a box.

“What are you doing?”

“Packing some of the Chocolate Raspberry Truffles that Lisa made this morning.”

“For me?” Andrea asked, looking hopeful.

“No, for Lydia Gradin. She still works at the bank, doesn’t she?”

“Yes. She got a promotion and now she handles all the special customers. But it won’t do any good to ask her about Larry. Lydia’s a stickler for the rules, and Larry’s bank records are confidential. Lydia won’t give them to you.”

“I don’t need Larry’s bank records. I just need some information about his accounts.”

“She won’t give you that, either.”

“Maybe she will. I think I just figured out a way to get what I need.”

“By bribing her with truffles?”

“That might help, but I’ve got something else to give Lydia that’s even more important.”

Andrea looked dumbfounded. “What could be more important than Chocolate Raspberry Truffles? Lydia’s crazy about truffles.”

“A deposit,” Hannah said, tying a bow on the top of the box and then leading the way to the door.

CHOCOLATE OATMEAL COOKIES

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

½ cup softened butter (1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound)

1 cup white (granulated) sugar

2 one-ounce squares unsweetened chocolate (I used Baker’s)

1 beaten egg (just whip it up in a glass with a fork)

1 teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

¾ cup flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

1 and ½ cups dry oatmeal (either quick cooking or old fashioned will do)

In a large bowl, mix the softened butter and the sugar until it’s fluffy.

Unwrap the squares of unsweetened chocolate and melt them in the microwave according to package directions. Add them to the butter and sugar mixture and mix well.

Feel the bowl. If the mixture is cool enough, add the beaten egg, mixing until it’s thoroughly incorporated.

Mix in the baking powder and the salt.

Add the flour, mixing it in thoroughly.

Mix in the oatmeal and stir until the mixture is completely blended.

Drop by teaspoonfuls onto greased (or sprayed with Pam or other nonstick cooking spray) cookie sheets, 12 cookies to a standard-size sheet. (I used a 2-teaspoon scoop.)

Bake at 325 degrees F. for 13 to 15 minutes or until slightly brown.

Let the cookies cool on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes and then remove them to a wire rack to cool completely.

Nancy says that these cookies are better if they are soft so don’t over-bake them. If you store them in a cookie jar and they get too hard, use Grandma Ingrid’s trick of adding an orange peel or slice of apple to the cookie jar to soften them up.

Yield: Makes about 3 dozen chewy, chocolaty cookies.

Nancy’s Note: If you don’t have the squares of unsweetened chocolate in your pantry, you can substitute 3 Tablespoons of cocoa and 1 Tablespoon vegetable shortening for each square of chocolate needed. Just blend in the shortening with the butter and add the cocoa with the flour.

H annah spotted Lydia Gradin the moment she walked through the door at Lake Eden First Mercantile Bank. Lydia was hard to miss. Her hair was streaked with bright purple and she was wearing shiny purple leather pants and a matching midriff-hugging top that might have looked stunning on one of Jordan’s High’s cheerleaders, but did nothing to enhance the appearance of a much older, much less shapely woman.

As she gave a wave and settled down in a chair in the lobby to wait until Lydia was free, Hannah wondered, not for the first time, why Lydia felt the need to dress like a teenager. There was no doubt she did so intentionally. Delores had mentioned she’d seen Lydia coming out of Umpteen, a clothing shop in the mall that specialized exclusively in teenage fashions. Hannah’s mother and Lydia had been classmates multiple decades ago, and that meant Lydia had to be Umpteen’s oldest customer. Was this a case of arrested development? An effort to stop the clock at a happier time in her life? Or just wishful thinking?

Lydia finished with her customer and she motioned to Hannah. As Hannah approached the private cubicles the tellers manned for their customers, she noticed that the purple streaks in Lydia’s dark hair actually looked good. Hannah usually avoided making any comment at all about Lydia’s appearance, heeding the words of Thumper in Bambi when the young rabbit repeated his father’s advice, If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothing at all. This time, though, Hannah had something nice to say. “Your hair looks good, Lydia,” she said, sitting down in one of the two cushioned chairs in front of Lydia’s desk.

“Thanks, Hannah!” Lydia looked quite surprised. “You don’t mind the purple?”

“I think it goes really well with your natural hair color,” Hannah said, hoping that the rest of Lydia’s hair was her natural color.

“I’ll tell my niece. She spends hours picking out my clothes and trying out new hairstyles on me. She wants to be a beautician when she graduates from high school.”

Hannah gave a fleeting thought to Tracey and Bethie, and decided that an aunt’s love should stop short of outlandish. There was no way she’d let either Tracey or Bethie near her with fashion advice or a bottle of purple hair dye.

“What can I do for you, Hannah?” Lydia asked.

“It’s what I can do for you,” Hannah countered, placing the box on the desktop. “They’re Chocolate Raspberry Truffles.”

Lydia gave what could only be described as a little whimper. “Chocolate Raspberry Truffles. What could be more wonderful? This is really sweet of you, Hannah. How did you know that my birthday’s tomorrow?”

Hannah managed to keep the surprise off her face. “There are no secrets in Lake Eden,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Happy early birthday, Lydia. Why don’t you have a truffle now? They’re something new and I’d love to know what you think of them.”

Lydia opened the box and reached in daintily for a truffle. She took a bite, gave another little groan of pleasure and smiled. Then she popped the other half of the truffle into her mouth and closed her eyes in bliss. “Perfect,” she said.

“Oh, good. Do you think we should sell them at The Cookie Jar over Christmas?”

“Definitely. I’ll be first in line. Thank you for the best birthday present ever, Hannah.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lydia wiped her fingers on a tissue from the dispenser on her desk and went into customer service mode. “May I help you with any banking needs today?”

“Actually, yes.” Hannah drew out the check she’d taken back from Lisa’s deposit folder. “Lisa was a little worried about this check, so I said I’d bring it down with me. She thought the account might be closed, or something.”

Lydia glanced at the check, typed in some numbers on her keyboard, and nodded as information came up on her screen. “Lisa is correct to be concerned. This account’s not closed, but I’m glad you brought the check in today because the balance is quite low. Did you want cash, or would you like to deposit it to your business account?”

“We’ll deposit it to The Cookie Jar account.” Hannah waited while Lydia filled out the paperwork and signed where she indicated. “One more thing,” she said.