Apple Turnover Murder Bundle with Key Lime Pie Murder, Cherry Cheesecake Murder, and Lemon Meringue Pie Murder

Book 0: Hannah Swensen Mystery

by Joanne Fluke

Genres: Amateur Sleuth; Cozy Mystery; Female Sleuths

Synopsis

Apple Turnover Murder The Luscious Los Angeles Times And USA Today Bestseller! Early summer brings plenty of work for baker Hannah Swensen, even before Mayor Bascomb's wife drops by The Cookie Jar to place an order for her charity event. . .for eleven-hundred cookies! And Hannah almost flips when her business partner, Lisa, suggests setting up an apple turnover stand. But she places her faith in Lisa and agrees to be a magician's assistant in the fundraiser's talent show. . . Key Lime Pie Murder New York Times Bestseller It promises to be a busy week for Hannah Swensen. Not only is she whipping up treats for the chamber of commerce booth at the Tri-County fair, she's also judging the baking contest;acting as a magician's assistant for her business partner's husband;trying to coax Moishe, her previously rapacious feline, to end his hunger strike, and performing her own private carnival act by juggling the demands of her mother and sisters. With so much on her plate, it's no wonder Hannah finds herself on the midway only moments before the fair closes for the night. After hearing a suspicious thump, she goes snooping–only to discover Willa Sunquist, a student teacher and fellow bake contest judge, dead alongside an upended key lime pie. But who would want to kill Willa and why? Cherry Cheesecake Murder Hannah Swensen and her bakery, The Cookie Jar, bask in the glow of Hollywood glamour when Main Street becomes a movie set. And although tensions simmer as the cameras roll, no one expects the action to turn deadly. . .until it's too late. . . There's no such thing as privacy in Lake Eden, but Hannah never thought things would go this far. Everyone has been telling her what to do ever since she got not one but two marriage proposals. Movie mania soon shoves Hannah's marriage dilemma into the background and even gives her cat a shot at stardom. The Cookie Jar serves as snack central with Main Street rented out for the week. She stirs lots of fresh gossip, whipping up treats for cast and crew, including demanding director Dean Lawrence's favorite--cherry cheesecake. Lemon Meringue Pie Murder Hannah Swensen thought she'd finally discovered the recipe for a perfect life. But her sometime beau Norman Rhodes tosses a surprise ingredient into the mix when he phones to tell her he's just bought a house from local drugstore clerk Rhonda Scharf--which he plans to tear down in order to build the dream home he and Hannah designed. It seems the plan has been cooking for quite some time, and Hannah's shocked. Especially since her ring finger is still very much bare. . . The good news is that the soon-to-be-torn-down house is full of antiques--and Norman has given Hannah and her mother first dibs. They uncover some gorgeous old furniture, a patchwork quilt. . .and Rhonda Scharf's dead body. A little more sleuthing turns up the half-eaten remains of a very special dinner for two--and one of The Cookie Jar's famous lemon meringue pies. Now it's up to Hannah to turn up the heat--and get busy tracking down clues. Starting in her very own kitchen. . .

Release date: February 1, 2011

Publisher: Kensington

Print pages: 1304

Sample

“’Til death do us part.”

The words echoed in the hushed flower-scented air and Hannah Swensen shivered in her bridal finery. The church was filled to capacity on this Sunday afternoon in early June and sunbeams streamed through the stained glass windows that lined the nave, transforming the dust motes that floated on lazy air currents into bits of vividly colored confetti.

‘Til death do us part.

The words were simple, the sentiment was true, and Hannah knew that marriage was supposed to last a lifetime. But hearing such grave words on this joyous occasion always reminded her of an opening line in a television murder mystery. In the next shot, the groom would kiss the bride and the whole congregation would mirror their happy smiles. Then the camera would pull back, and the music would change to a minor key. Something was about to happen, something ominous. Someone was going to die before the first commercial break, and you could almost bet that the victim would be one-half of the bridal couple, most likely the actor or actress who was lesser known and lesser paid.

But not today and not here in Lake Eden, Hannah told herself, feeling a bit silly for her dark thoughts on this happy occasion. She could probably blame her overactive imagination on too much work and not enough sleep. Hannah and her partner, Lisa, had put in long hours at The Cookie Jar, their coffee shop and bakery, and their jam-packed schedule was far from completed. They’d baked scores of cookies for graduation celebrations, bridal and baby showers, engagement parties, and school picnics. They’d even baked their signature wedding cookies for this wedding, Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies topped with glittering crystals of granulated sugar and decorated with the initials of the bride and the groom in frosting, enclosed in a frosting heart. Once the reception line had come to an end, everyone would mingle in the church garden to enjoy iced lemonade and The Cookie Jar’s wedding cookies.

Hannah was attempting to count the wedding celebrants that filled the pews to make sure they’d brought enough cookies when a warm hand reached out to clasp hers. The hand belonged to Norman Rhodes, son of the bride, Carrie Rhodes, and one of the men she was currently dating. Norman was smiling and he’d told Hannah that he was pleased his mother was marrying a man they all knew and liked, Earl Flensburg.

As Carrie and Earl turned and began their first walk down the aisle together as man and wife, Hannah caught a glimpse of her own mother’s face. Delores Swensen was a study in contrasts, smiling and dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief at the same time. Weddings always made Delores cry. She’d once admitted to Hannah that she’d cried at her own wedding and, much to her embarrassment, smudged her mascara in the process.

Hannah followed Norman out of the pew and down the side aisle toward the front doors of the church. “Are you going to stand in the reception line?”

“I’ll congratulate them later when I make the first toast.” Norman waved and Hannah turned to see Mike Kingston, the other man she occasionally dated, standing on the steps that led up to the church doors. He was still wearing his Winnetka County Sheriff’s Department uniform and that probably meant he was still on duty. Mike waved back at them and Hannah and Norman went down the steps to greet him.

“Sorry I missed the wedding,” Mike said when they arrived at his side. “I was supposed to be off work an hour and a half ago, but there was a robbery. You’d think in heat like this, the criminals would stay home and fan themselves.”

“What did they steal?” Norman asked.

“A couple of fans?” Hannah guessed, earning long-suffering looks from both men.

“You’re close,” Mike told her. “They stole a truck loaded with one of those above-ground swimming pools.”

“That’s a pretty big thing to steal,” Norman said. “Did you catch them?”

“Sure. The pool was still in the bed of the truck and they were trying to fill it up in the parking lot at the Eagle. You know where that is, don’t you?”

Both Hannah and Norman nodded. They’d rescued Hannah’s youngest sister, Michelle, from the country-western bar last summer when she’d helped them substantiate a suspect’s alibi.

“They were trying to set up the pool at the Eagle?” Hannah asked him.

“Trying is the operative word. Since they didn’t have a hose, they recruited everybody at the bar to carry out beer mugs filled with water and dump them in the pool. Lonnie and I figured it would have taken them at least four days to fill it up enough for a swim.”

“So you caught them and arrested them?” Norman asked.

Mike shook his head. “It seems they were drinking buddies with the owner of the truck. And once they agreed to help him unload the pool at his house, and he agreed to let them go for a swim, everybody went off happy. But I missed the wedding and I’m sorry about that.” Mike turned to Norman. “Give your mother and Earl my apologies, okay? And tell them I’ll see them later.”

“Let’s head out to the Lake Eden Inn,” Norman suggested after Mike had left.

Hannah glanced at her dress watch, squinting a bit to read the tiny numbers. She was used to the big dial on the watch she wore at work where time was of the essence and a minute or two more could turn a boiled frosting into concrete. “If we leave now, we’ll be an hour early for the reception.”

“Good. I want to check my video equipment to make sure everything’s working right.” Norman stopped speaking and frowned slightly. “Did I give you the bag of cat treats and toys I bought?”

Hannah turned to smile at him. “Yes, you did. But there’s enough in that bag for a month and you’re only going to be gone for three nights.”

“I know. It’s just that I’ve never left Cuddles before and I wanted to make sure she had everything she needed.”

“But how about the time Marguerite took her up north?” Hannah asked, remembering the vacation Cuddles and her former owner had taken last summer.

“That’s different. I didn’t leave Cuddles. Cuddles left me.” Norman was silent for a moment and then he began to grin. “That sounds a little crazy, doesn’t it?”

“Not a bit. I’d feel the same way.”

Hannah reviewed the plan in her mind as they walked to Norman’s car. Once the reception was over, Norman would be driving his mother and Earl to the international airport in Minneapolis where they would catch a midnight flight to Rome. They were touring Italy for their honeymoon, somewhere Carrie had always wanted to go. Norman would see them off and then he’d drive to the hotel where he’d be staying for three nights. On Monday he’d meet up with some friends from dental school who were opening a clinic in St. Paul, tour the building they’d chosen for their clinic, and then they’d all go out to dinner together. On Tuesday he’d attend the grand opening, stay over that night, and drive back to Lake Eden Wednesday morning in time for his first appointment. He’d pick up Cuddles that night after work, and his cat would have almost seventy-two hours to spend playing with her best friend, Moishe.

“Do you think we should check on the cats before we drive out to the reception?” Norman asked.

“We can stop at the condo if you’re worried about them, but I’m sure they’re fine. I filled the Kitty Valet with food before we left and Moishe’s always been a real gentleman about letting Cuddles eat first. They’re probably snuggled up on the couch together, watching the Animal Channel.”

“You’re right. No sense in disturbing them.” Norman opened all four doors of his car to let the heat out before he gestured for Hannah to get inside. “I’ll get the air conditioning on right away,” he promised.

It was a hot afternoon and Hannah was glad that the air conditioning in Norman’s sedan was better than the air conditioning in her cookie truck. Even if she turned it on full blast, someone blowing over the top of an ice cube would be more effective. Riding in Norman’s well-maintained car was a welcome treat, and by the time they pulled out of the church parking lot, cool air was already beginning to pour out of the vents. “I just love your car!” she said with a sigh, leaning back against the headrest.

The moment the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. They’d just come from a wedding and that meant both of them had weddings on the mind. It would be natural for Norman, who really wanted her to accept the proposal he’d tendered over a year ago, to say, Marry me and I’ll buy you one just like it. Or, Just say yes and I’ll make everything easy for you, Hannah. Or even, Did you see how happy Mother was? I’d make you even happier if you’d marry me.

But Norman didn’t say any of those things. Instead, he just laughed. “You don’t love my car. You love my air conditioning.”

“It’s true.” Hannah hung her head in pretended shame. “I’m just a fool for a good-looking condenser and powerful vents.”

Norman chortled. There was no other word for it. It was a sound that was midway between a chuckle and a gurgle and it made Hannah smile to know she’d caused it. There was no greater gift than making someone laugh. People who laughed were happy.

It was a huge party. Almost everyone they knew in town was there, but the Swensen sisters had found each other and snagged a table. Hannah, Andrea, and Michelle were seated at a rectangular table at the edge of the dance floor. Their mother, Delores, sat at one end, looking no more than a decade older than her daughters.

“And you’re going to fill in at Granny’s Attic while Carrie’s on her honeymoon?” Hannah asked Michelle.

“That’s right.” Michelle turned to smile at her mother. “I’ve got a whole month before I have to be back at Macalester, and Mother’s promised me a commission on any antiques I sell.”

“And an hourly wage on top of that,” Delores amended her youngest daughter’s statement, and then she turned to Hannah. “Michelle will be able to stay with you for a while, won’t she, dear? I’m having the hardwood floors redone and it could take several weeks.”

“Not a problem. Michelle can stay with me anytime she wants.”

Michelle turned to give Hannah a grin. “Thanks!”

“I should be the one to thank you. The last time you stayed over, you made breakfast for me. And the day you left, you stripped your bed and washed the sheets. Not only that, you emptied the drier and folded all my clothes. I love it when you stay with me.”

All four Swensens looked up as a man stopped by their table. It was Lonnie Murphy, the deputy sheriff Michelle dated when she was in town. “Hi, Shelly. Do you want to dance?” he asked.

“I’d love to!” Michelle smiled, got up from her chair, and took Lonnie’s arm. She looked genuinely delighted to be asked as they stepped out onto the dance floor.

Hannah hid a grin. Michelle hated to be called Shelly. It was the name her fourth grade class had given to the box turtle they kept in their terrarium. She’d once told Hannah she thought that Shelly was a great name for a turtle but not for her, and she’d engaged in several hair-pulling fights on the school playground with anyone who’d dared to call her by that nickname. Obviously things had changed. When Lonnie called her Shelly, Michelle just smiled at him. Hannah figured that must be love, or at least a close facsimile.

“Delores. Just the person I wanted to see.” Bud Hauge approached their table. He owned the welding shop in town and Hannah knew he’d worked on several broken antiques for her mother.

“Bud.” Delores acknowledged him with a nod. “Don’t tell me you can’t weld the rocker on my treadle sewing machine.”

“Okay. I won’t tell you I can’t weld your sewing machine.”

“Bud!” There was a warning tone in their mother’s voice and Hannah exchanged grins with Andrea. Delores had gone to school with Bud and he loved to tease her.

“Just kidding. It’s all ready for you, good as new. I’ll drop it by Granny’s Attic tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, Bud. That’s perfect. I’d like you to take a look at something else we bought. Have you ever done any restoration on grave art?”

Bud gave a little shrug. “I don’t know. They bring it in, I weld it. What’s grave art?”

“It’s a tribute for a grave, a statue or some kind of decoration chosen by the family. Commonly they’re made of marble or granite, but this one is metal.”

“What is it? An angel or something like that?”

“No, it’s a fish.”

“A fish?” Both Andrea and Hannah spoke at once since Bud appeared to be rendered speechless.

“I believe it’s a walleye pike. It’s not so unusual if you consider that families like to personalize the graves of their dearly departed.”

Dearly departed? Hannah stared at her mother in shock. She’d never heard anyone use that phrase outside the walls of a church. “So some dead person inside, whoever he was, liked to fish?”

“I assume so, dear. We have several examples of grave art at the shop. They’re from the family mausoleum section of Spring Brook Cemetery and they date back to the eighteen hundreds.”

“They’re tearing down part of that section, aren’t they, Mother?” Andrea asked.

“They’re relocating it, dear. The city council feels that the crypts are in such bad repair, they could be dangerous.”

“How could they be dangerous if everyone who’s in them is dead?” Hannah asked.

Andrea and Bud burst into laughter, and Hannah noticed that Delores did all she could do to keep a straight face. “That’s not very nice, dear,” she chided her eldest daughter.

“But it’s funny,” Bud said, still chuckling.

“And it’s true,” Andrea added.

“Well, be that as it may, the council decided to take down the crumbling mausoleums and relocate the … um … contents.”

“All of them?” Hannah asked, remembering how she used to ride her bike out to the old part of the cemetery and walk past the giant stone angels and carved headstones. “I used to love the pink granite mausoleum with the columns in the front.”

“That belongs to the Evans family and Florence has agreed to repair it. Four generations of her family are buried there. The problem the council had was with some of the other mausoleums. At least a dozen were unclaimed. Either the families moved to parts unknown, or there are no living relatives.”

“Those are the ones they’re tearing down?” Bud asked.

“That’s right. But some of the grave art can’t be moved to the new gravesites. Either it’s in bad repair or it’s simply too large. Carrie and I are taking whatever we can salvage to sell at Granny’s Attic and we’ll donate the proceeds to the relocation fund.”

“That’s nice of you, Mother,” Andrea said. “But do you really think that anybody will buy a walleye for a grave?”

“It’s already sold, dear. Winnie Henderson is buying it for her family crypt. She’s kept it up over the years, but she never got around to ordering any kind of decoration.”

“And she wants the walleye?” Bud looked astonished.

“Yes. One of her husbands just loved to hunt and fish. I think it was the third one?”

“I thought it was the fourth,” Hannah said.

“Whatever. Winnie said his fishing buddy wanted all his fishing tackle, so she couldn’t put any inside. All she had were his hunting things.”

“She put those inside?” Andrea asked.

“Yes, and that’s why she wants the walleye. Winnie wants everyone to know that he was a great fisherman as well as a good hunter.”

“Sounds like what the Egyptians did with the pyramids,” Bud commented. “Does Winnie believe he’ll use them in the afterlife?”

“I don’t know, Bud. Winnie has some strange notions and I didn’t really get into it with her.”

“Wait a second,” Bud said, looking a little worried. “She didn’t put any guns in there, did she?”

“Heavens, no! She kept the guns. She said you never know when you need firearms out on the farm. She shot a lynx last year, right before it attacked one of her calves.”

“Is a lynx the same as a wildcat?” Andrea turned to Hannah. “I always get those two mixed up.”

“A lot of people do. The bobcat’s genus is lynx, but if you’re thinking of the Canadian lynx we see here in Minnesota, they’re twice as big as bobcats, and they have snow-shoe paws.”

Delores laughed. “I don’t think Winnie got close enough to examine its paws.”

“But was the bobcat Winnie shot a Canadian lynx?” Andrea asked.

“Probably,” Bud answered her question, “especially if it was attacking something as big as a calf.”

“Maybe it was a cougar, or a … a mountain lion.” Andrea was obviously struggling with the nomenclature. “Or don’t we have any of those here?”

“I think cougars are another name for mountain lions,” Hannah told her. “And if I remember correctly, they’re lumped in there somewhere with pumas and panthers.”

“But do we have mountain lions here?” Andrea repeated her question. “We don’t have any mountains in Minnesota.”

“You’re right,” Bud said. “Most of them are farther west, but they migrate over here once in awhile. They’re adaptable, and if there’s not enough food where they are, they go in search of it.”

“Then you think the big cat that Winnie shot might be a mountain lion?” Hannah asked him.

“I doubt it. If you spot a big cat here, it’s probably a Canadian lynx.” He turned to Delores. “Tell me more about that walleye. What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s missing one of its fins. That’s why I asked if you’d ever done any restoration work. Do you think you could fabricate a fin and weld it on?”

“Yes, but only if you dance with me.”

“What?!”

“Only if you dance with me. This is our song … remember?”

Delores didn’t say a word, but she got to her feet and took Bud’s arm. Hannah noticed that her mother’s cheeks were bright pink as Bud led her to the dance floor and took her in his arms.

“I wonder if Bud’s an old flame,” Andrea mused.

“He could be. Mother told me she dated a lot in high school.”

“You mean our mother played the field?”

“You could call it that, I guess. I know she wasn’t serious about anyone until Dad came along.”

Both sisters were silent as their mother danced by with Bud. Then Andrea turned to Hannah. “I wonder if she feels lonely now that Carrie’s married again.”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t said anything about it. Then again, she probably wouldn’t. Do you want me to ask her?”

“No! That’ll only make her think about it, if she’s not thinking about it already. It’s just that … I was wondering if we should keep an eye on her … just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

“Just in case she falls in love again. Remember what happened with Winthrop?”

“I’ll never forget it, but I really don’t think that’ll happen again.”

“Why not?”

“Because Mother’s wiser now, and there aren’t any new, fascinating men with British accents who’ve moved to Lake Eden. Mother’s known all the eligible local men for years.”

“I know that, but …”

“Besides,” Hannah went on, “Mother doesn’t seem interested in anything but friendship. And the men seem to feel exactly the same way.”

“Really?” Andrea nudged Hannah and gestured toward the dance floor. “Take a good look and tell me that again.”

Hannah scanned the couples on the floor and located Delores dancing with Joe Dietz. Their mother was looking up at Joe and smiling in what Hannah thought could be a mildly flirtatious way. “What’s Mother doing with Joe Dietz? I thought she was dancing with Bud!”

“She was, but not anymore. Joe cut in on Doc Knight.”

“Doc Knight? How did Doc Knight get into the picture?”

“Doc cut in on Bud.”

“But it can’t be more than a minute since Mother left the table! Are you telling me that she’s had three dance partners already?”

“Yes, and number four is on the horizon and approaching fast. Look to your left.”

Hannah followed Andrea’s direction and watched as Pete Nunke walked out on the dance floor and made a beeline for Delores and Joe Dietz. There was no doubt that Andrea was correct when Pete tapped Joe on the shoulder.

“See what I mean?” Andrea asked.

“I see.”

Both sisters watched as Joe tried to wave Pete away. There was a moment of good-natured banter between the two men and then Delores said something to Pete. His response caused her to throw back her head and laugh in obvious delight, leaving no doubt that she relished being the belle of the ball at her best friend’s wedding.

“Mother’s very popular tonight,” Andrea said as De-lores went into Pete’s arms.

“Yes, she is.”

“From where I’m sitting, she looks as if she’s enjoying every minute of it,” Andrea commented, “and it looks like it could be a little more than simple friendship to me.”

Hannah sighed. Her sister was right. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on Mother … especially since all the bachelors and widowers in Lake Eden seem to be doing the same thing!”

She was being crushed between two boulders … except they weren’t boulders. They couldn’t be boulders. Boulders were hard and cold. These were softer, and they were warm. She couldn’t be certain what material they were made of, but she was totally restrained by whatever it was.

Her arms must be bound, or perhaps wedged at her sides, because she couldn’t move them. Her legs also seemed to be trussed or contained in some manner. Why was she imprisoned like this? She couldn’t remember, and she wasn’t even certain that she’d ever been told.

There was a noise in the dark, way in the distance. She struggled to identify it for a moment, and then her mind, which seemed to operate in slow-motion, latched onto an image of a truck. It was the sound of a motor running, perhaps several motors running. Was she about to be moved from this place of confinement and transported to another location?

The rumbling continued, echoing around her, filling her head with questions. How had she been brought here? Who was responsible? And when there were no answers to those questions, her mind turned to others.

How high was high? What made the wind blow? No one could disagree that she was thinking. Did that mean that she existed? But this line of thought was not productive in her current situation. She ought to attempt to find a way to break out of her confinement and not waste time woolgathering.

Woolgathering. The words swirled in her mind, back and forth, around and around. The letters were made up of little puffy balls of cotton wool and it reminded her of sheep the size of kittens. And there was something about kittens, something about the fog creeping in … but that was cats. And these sheep were … cats!

“Off!” Hannah ordered, startling the two cats and sending them leaping from the bed. No wonder she’d dreamed about being wrapped up like a mummy! It had gotten cold and damp in the wee hours of the morning. Moishe and Cuddles must have felt the chill, because they’d moved from the living room couch to her bed. There they’d climbed up on her pillow, Moishe on the left and Cuddles on the right, moving closer and closer to her as they slept. For all intents and purposes, she’d ended up with two cats glued tightly to either side of her head.

A glance at the clock on her bedside table made Hannah groan. It was already a quarter to four and she had to get up in forty-five minutes. By the time she made a trip to the bathroom and got back in bed, only forty minutes of sleep time would be left. And by the time she actually calmed down, gave the cats several scratches behind the ears to apologize for startling them, and got back to sleep, it would be almost time to get up again.

And now, just thinking about it and figuring out the times, she was wide awake. No sense even trying for the few additional minutes of sleep that she might possibly gain. It was better to get up and try the recipe her college friend, Beth, had sent her for Vanilla Crack, to see if they could use it at The Cookie Jar. It certainly seemed easy to make and they had nothing else like it on the cookie menu.

By the time the little hand was a smidgen short of the four and the big hand was flirting with the eleven, Hannah emerged from the bathroom squeaky clean. She dressed quickly in the clothing she’d set out the previous night, and before the second hand could tick off the remaining three clicks to the hour, she was ready for the day that had not yet arrived.

“Thanks a lot, guys,” she said to the two felines who were now nestled on her pillow, sound asleep, and walked down the carpeted hallway toward the kitchen. As she passed the closed guest room door, she listened for any sound that might indicate Michelle was awake. Her youngest sister had come home just as Hannah was going to bed, and both of them had been too tired to do more than say goodnight.

When she got to the kitchen, Hannah flicked on the banks of fluorescent lights that turned the white-walled room into the luminance of day, and re-read the recipe she’d received in the mail. It was even easier than she’d remembered, and she had all the ingredients on hand, including a fresh box of soda crackers. Then she set the recipe down on the counter and completed the first step toward a successful baking experience. She poured herself a cup of coffee to wake up.

The first sip was heaven. Hannah gave a deep sigh of pleasure and sank down on one of the plastic-covered chrome tube chairs that would eventually become antiques. Could anything be better than the first cup of coffee in the morning?

Hannah sat there relishing the experience, concentrating on the dark, rich taste. It was full-bodied but not bitter, and that meant the beans had been roasted to perfection. She definitely liked the new coffee Florence Evans, owner of Lake Eden’s Red Owl Grocery Store, had ordered for her. It was called Silver Joe’s, and they were trying it out at The Cookie Jar this morning. If their customers liked it, they’d switch. And that just went to prove that there was an upside to keeping in touch with old classmates. Who would have guessed that Pat Vota, the bratty boy who had pushed her off the dock every time they’d gone swimming at Eden Lake, would end up as a top executive at a gourmet coffee company?

Once her cup was empty and the morning caffeine had performed its miraculous cure, Hannah poured a second cup and began to gather ingredients. The list was short and consisted of only four items: butter, white sugar, vanilla, and salted soda crackers. Since there was a variation called Chocolate Crack, Hannah also carried a canister of brown sugar and a bag of chocolate chips to the counter. She had just filled a saucepan with butter, sugar, and vanilla when the phone rang.

Hannah turned to glance at the clock. It was four thirty-five. Who would call her this early? Visions of crippling auto accidents, life-threatening medical emergencies, and violent crimes befalling friends and family filled her mind with dread as she rushed over to answer it.

“Hello?” Hannah answered, hoping it was a wrong number. Anything else was likely to announce a disaster.

“Good morning, Hannah.”

“Norman?” Hannah could scarcely believe her ears as she recognized the cheery voice. It was Norman, calling her on his cell phone, and he sounded alert and wide awake. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, but I woke up too early. I couldn’t sleep without Cuddles.”

And I couldn’t sleep WITH Cuddles, Hannah thought, but of course she didn’t say it.

“So how did she sleep?” Norman continued.

“Cuddles slept just fine. So did Moishe,” Hannah replied, deciding not to tell him about her rude awakening with both cats plastered to her head.

“Good. Well … I’d better let you go then. I know you’re probably just getting ready for work.”

Hannah gave a little smile. “Actually, I’m baking. I’m testing a new recipe a friend sent me for Vanilla Crack.”

“Is that a cookie?”

“Not really. I guess you could say it’s a cross between a cookie and a candy.”

“Sounds interesting. Will you save one for me when I come to pick up Cuddles on Wednesday night?”

“Of course I will.”

“Okay then. I’d better try to catch a little more sleep. I’m meeting the old gang to take a tour of the clinic this afternoon, and then we’re all going out for dinner.”

“Have fun.”

“I will. It’s been three years since I’ve seen these guys. We’ll probably spend most of the night playing catch-up.”

Hannah said goodbye and hung up the phone feeling envious. Norman was going back to bed. She wished she could go back to sleep and get up much, much later.

It didn’t take long to boil the butter and sugar the required amount of time. Hannah had just added the vanilla and poured it over the bed of soda crackers she’d arranged on a cookie sheet when her phone rang again.

It only took a moment to sprinkle on a few pieces of salted nuts, slip the pan into the preheated oven, and set the timer. Hannah managed to answer the phone on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Hannah!” It was Andrea’s voice and she sounded anxious. “I’m sorry to call so early, but I knew you’d be up and I really need to talk to you. It’s about … oh drat! Bill’s out of the shower and I can’t talk now. I’m showing two houses this morning, but I’ll come in this afternoon, okay?”

“Fine, but …” Hannah stopped talking when she realized that her sister had hung up. She stood there staring at the receiver for a moment and then she returned it to the cradle. Andrea was usually a late riser. What had happened to get her up before dawn? Or had she been sleepless all night, worrying about something?”

The timer dinged and Hannah removed the pan of Vanilla Crack from the oven. It smelled marvelous. She removed the pieces from the cookie sheet on a wire rack to harden and gave a little smile of satisfaction.

“What smells so heavenly?”

Hannah whirled around to see her youngest sister standing in the kitchen doorway, wearing a red and black checkered nightshirt and pink bunny slippers.

“It’s a new cookie called Vanilla Crack.”

“Vanilla Crack?” Michelle’s eyebrows approached the edge of her honey-brown bangs. “Do you know what crack is?”

“Of course I know what crack is.”

“But you’re still going to call this cookie Vanilla Crack?”

“Yes, I am. There’s no way I’m going to let a slang term invented by a scroungy dope dealer spoil my friend’s cookie name. They’re called Vanilla Crack, and Chocolate Crack, because the syrup is poured on crackers. And anybody who objects to the use of a perfectly good English word because illiterate criminals use it is an idiot!”

Michelle backed up a step and held up her hands, palms facing Hannah. “Okay. Forget I mentioned it. You’re absolutely right. I just didn’t know if you knew that it might have negative connotations. It smells divine, though. I think I’ll try a piece for breakfast, if that’s all right with you.”

“For breakfast?!” Hannah heard her own words, more than a little censorious, echoing back to her. It wasn’t that long ago she’d been a college student like Michelle, and she’d eaten cold pizza for breakfast. On the scale of nutritional correctness, was a piece of Vanilla Crack that much lower than a piece of cold pepperoni pizza?

“Hannah? Can I try a piece of Vanilla Crack for breakfast?”

“It’s may I. And yes, you may. Let me know how you like it while I start on the Chocolate Crack. And be careful. It hasn’t had long to cool and it could be too hot to eat.”

Michelle reached out to touch the confection on the cooling racks while Hannah arranged graham crackers on another cookie sheet. Then she put butter and brown sugar into her saucepan and brought it to a boil. She boiled it for the required five minutes, poured it over the graham crackers on the cookie sheet, and slipped the sheet in the oven. She’d just measured out the chocolate chips she’d need once it finished baking when she noticed that there was a large empty space on the cooling rack. “You’ve already eaten a quarter of a pan?” she asked Michelle.

“I guess I was hungry,” Michelle said a bit sheepishly. “It was great, Hannah. It’s just like a flaky candy bar. Is the Chocolate Crack almost done? I’d like to taste that, too.”

“Ten minutes in the oven, five minutes to cool, and you can have a taste … or maybe another quarter-pan. You’re pretty wide awake for someone who didn’t get home until after midnight last night. I thought you said Lonnie had to work a swing shift.”

“He did work a swing shift. And before he went to the sheriff’s station, he dropped me off at the community college. It was jazz night at the Cave,” Michelle named the little bistro on campus that hosted student entertainment in the evenings, “and I met some friends. I caught a ride here with one of them.”

“Oh.” Hannah turned away to hide her worried expression. She hoped the friends Michelle had at the college didn’t include Bradford Ramsey. She’d been meaning to warn Michelle about the unscrupulous professor ever since her youngest sister had invited him to Christmas Eve dinner, but the time had never seemed right. Hannah supposed now was as good a time as any, but the thought of imparting such an embarrassing confidence at shortly after five in the morning made her courage shrink up and her voice turn mute.

“What is it?” Michelle asked, locking eyes with Hannah. “You look … pained. Is it the coffee on an empty stomach?”

“Heavens, no!” Hannah said, and changed the subject quickly. “That reminds me … what do you think of the coffee? We’re trying a new brand at The Cookie Jar and I brought some home to test.”

“It’s really good. I like it better than the old kind. But you haven’t told me what’s wrong?”

Hannah sighed. She supposed she really should answer Michelle. She steeled herself to introduce the subject, but just as she was about to speak, the phone rang. “Oops. I’d better get that,” she said, and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Hannah. It’s Mike. I’m not calling too early, am I?”

“I’ve been up for an hour, Mike,” Hannah answered, using his name deliberately so that Michelle would know who it was.

“Tell him hi from me,” Michelle said, hopping up from her chair. “I’m going to go get dressed. By that time, the Chocolate Crack should be cool enough to try.”

“Did she say Chocolate Crack?” Mike asked, and Hannah could hear the shock in his voice.

“That’s right. It’s a new recipe. And I do know what crack is. This crack refers to one of the ingredients, crackers, and I’m not about to change the cookie name because some criminals use it for drug slang.”

“Okay. Okay. I just wanted you to know, that’s all.” Mike backed off quickly. “Have you heard from Norman?”

“Yes, at four thirty-five this morning. He told me he couldn’t sleep well without Cuddles.”

“That figures. It’s all a matter of habit. When I was growing up, I slept in a room with my older brothers. When they moved out, it took me a week before I could sleep through the night. It was just too quiet, you know?”

“I do know. So what’s up, Mike? You don’t usually call this time of the morning just to chat.”

Mike gave a little laugh. “You know me too well, and you’re right. Do you know where Norman is staying in the Cities?”

“No, and I didn’t ask him when he called. I should have, but I guess it was just too early to operate on full brainpower.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Do you want me to ask if he calls again? He’ll probably get in touch with me sometime this evening.”

“That’ll be too late. I need to call and ask him where he hides his extra key.”

“Which key?”

“His house key. I know he hides one somewhere outside.”

“Did Norman tell you that?”

“No, but almost all the homeowners do it. It could be nasty if you got locked outside by accident in the winter.”

“True,” Hannah said and then she was silent. She wasn’t about to give away Norman’s hiding place until she knew more about why Mike needed that information.

“So do you know where he hides it?”

“Yes. Why do you want to know?”

“One of Norman’s neighbors was driving by on her way to work the early shift at DelRay this morning, and she saw a light flick off upstairs. She knew that Norman was gone, so she called the station to report it.”

“That was nice of her.”

“Yes, it was. It’s probably a light on a timer or something like that, but I’m driving out there to check it out. I’ll jimmy a window or something if I have to, but it’d be a lot easier if I had a key.”

“Of course it would. I’ve got a key here, but it’ll be a lot faster if you drive straight out there and use Norman’s hidden key. There’s a concrete statue of a moose under the pine tree to the left of the front door. The key’s in its mouth.”

“Wow!” Mike was clearly impressed. “That’s a great hiding place. I never would have thought to look there. Most people hide their keys under flowerpots on the front porch, or they’ve got one of those silly little rocks that’s hollowed out to hold a key.”

Hannah frowned. Mike had just described the rock she had in her planter by the front door. “Do criminals know about those rocks?”

“Sure they do. And just in case they’re not smart enough to figure it out, all they have to do is flip the rock over and it says, Hide-A-Key on the flap that slides over the hole.” Mike stopped speaking for a moment and then he chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’ve got one of those!”

“Not anymore.”

“Good. Thanks for the information, Hannah. I’ll check out Norman’s house right away.”

“I’ll be leaving for work in just a couple of minutes. Will you call me on my cell phone if there’s anything wrong?”

“Sure, but you’ll have to remember to turn it on.”

“I’ll turn it on,” she promised, more than a little amused. She had a habit of turning off her cell phone when she didn’t want to receive calls and forgetting to turn it back on again.

“Do you want to go out for a burger tonight after I finish my shift?”

An outsider to their complicated relationship might have thought that Mike was following the old adage, Make hay while the sun shines, and taking advantage of the fact that Norman was out of town. Hannah knew that simply wasn’t true. If Mike felt like asking her to go out for a burger, he’d ask her whether Norman was in town, or not.

“That sounds nice,” she responded. “What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at your place at six, and we’ll run out to the Corner Tavern. They’ve got a new burger with peanut butter and peppers inside. It comes with something called an onion bouquet, and I want to try it.”

Hannah said goodbye, and when she hung up the receiver, she was smiling. She was still smiling after she’d taken the Chocolate Crack out of the oven, sprinkled the top with chocolate chips, and spread them out into a frosting with a spatula. When she’d first met Mike, she’d suspected that he was a meat and potatoes man, a typical Midwesterner who hadn’t strayed far from the cuisine his parents and grandparents had enjoyed. And then he’d met her and his world had changed, although the jury was still out on whether it was for the better, or the worse.

It had all started with the Jalapeno Brownies she’d baked for him and left on his desk at the sheriff’s station in retaliation for saying that someone else’s brownies were the best he’d ever tasted. But like many attempts to retaliate, this one had turned out to be a joke … on her! Mike had loved the brownies and Hannah credited them for opening up his eyes to the exciting possibilities of unorthodox food combinations. On the other hand, her fiery hot brownies could have permanently shocked his taste buds into complete passivity, leaving him completely open to sampling any gastronomic innovation, worthy or not.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

1 box salted soda crackers. (I used Saltines)

2 sticks salted butter (1 cup, 8 ounces, ½ pound)

1 cup white (granulated) sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

½ cup salted nut pieces

Line a 10-inch by 15-inch cookie sheet with heavy-duty foil. If you have a jellyroll pan, that’s perfect. If you don’t, turn up the edges of the foil to form sides.

Spray the foil with Pam or other nonstick cooking spray. (You want to be able to peel it off later, after the cookies harden.)

Cover the pan completely with a single layer of soda crackers, salt side up. (You can break the crackers in pieces to make them fit if you have to.) Set the cracker-lined jellyroll pan or cookie sheet aside while you cook the topping.

Combine the butter with the white sugar and vanilla in a heavy saucepan. Bring it to a full boil over medium high heat on the stovetop, stirring constantly. (A full boil will have breaking bubbles all over the surface of the pan.) Boil it for exactly five (5) minutes, stirring it constantly. If it sputters too much, you can reduce the heat. If it starts to lose the boil, you can increase the heat. Just don’t stop stirring.

Pour the mixture over the soda crackers as evenly as you can.

Hannah’s Note: I start by pouring the mixture in lines from top to bottom over the length of the pan. Then I turn it and pour more lines over the width of the pan. Once the whole pan is cross-hatched with the hot toffee mixture, I pour any that’s left where it’s needed. If it doesn’t cover the soda crackers completely, don’t worry—it’ll spread out quite a bit in the oven.

Sprinkle the salted nut pieces over the top.

Slide the pan into the oven and bake the cookies at 350 degrees F. for ten (10) minutes.

Remove the pan from the oven and let it cool on a wire rack.

When the cookies have thoroughly cooled, peel off the foil and break them into random-sized pieces.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

1 box graham crackers. (I used Nabisco Honey Maid)

2 sticks salted butter (1 cup, 8 ounces, ½ pound)

1 cup brown sugar (pack it down when you measure it)

2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips (12-ounce package)

Line a 10-inch by 15-inch cookie sheet with heavy-duty foil. If you have a jellyroll pan, that’s perfect. If you don’t, turn up the edges of the foil to form sides.

Spray the foil with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray. (You want to be able to peel it off later, after the candy hardens.)

Line the pan completely with a single layer of graham crackers. Cover the whole bottom. (You can break the crackers in pieces to make them fit if you have to.) Set the cracker-lined jellyroll pan or cookie sheet aside while you cook the toffee mixture.

Combine the butter with the brown sugar in a saucepan. Bring it to a boil over medium high heat on the stovetop, stirring constantly. (A full boil will have breaking bubbles all over the surface of the pan.) Boil it for exactly five (5) minutes, stirring it constantly. If it sputters too much, you can reduce the heat. If it starts to lose the boil, you can increase the heat. Just don’t stop stirring.

Pour the mixture over the graham crackers as evenly as you can.

Hannah’s Note: I start by pouring the mixture in lines from top to bottom over the length of the pan. Then I turn it and pour more lines over the width of the pan. Once the whole pan is cross-hatched with the hot toffee mixture, I pour any that’s left where it’s needed. If it doesn’t cover the crackers completely, don’t worry—it’ll spread out quite a bit in the oven.

Slide the pan into the oven and bake the cookies at 350 degrees F. for ten (10) minutes.

Remove the pan from the oven and sprinkle the chocolate chips over the top. Give the chips a minute or two to melt and then spread them out as evenly as you can with a heat-resistant spatula, a wooden paddle, or a frosting knife.

Slip the pan in the refrigerator to chill.

When the pan has chilled, peel the foil from the cookies and break them into random-sized pieces.

“Nothing succeeds like excess,” Hannah said, looking up from her position behind the counter at The Cookie Jar as Mayor Richard Bascomb and his wife, Stephanie, came in the door.

Hannah’s partner, Lisa, took one look at the female half of Lake Eden’s first couple and burst out laughing, a gaffe she quickly covered by pretending to cough. Stephanie Bascomb was resplendent in a bright blue suit of raw silk with a stylish blue hat. Her frilly blouse matched the blooms on her hat, which Hannah identified as slightly more purple than the cornflowers growing wild in Winnie Henderson’s back forty. The first lady’s gloves were bright-blue leather and her chic leather pumps were of the same hue. A large sapphire surrounded with diamonds graced her right hand and she wore a matching set of necklace and earrings.

“Hannah! And Lisa!” Mrs. Bascomb greeted them with the same surprised tone she might have used if she were traveling and happened to run into them at a Buddhist monastery in Sri Lanka.

Hannah exchanged puzzled glances with Lisa. Where else would they be during the hours The Cookie Jar was open for business?

“Good to see you, Mayor,” Hannah said, and then she turned to the woman who spared no expense buying herself a stunning new outfit every time she found out about one of her husband’s dalliances. The mayor’s last peccadillo must have been particularly flagrant to warrant a suit, hat, gloves, shoes, and a fortune in gemstones. “You’re a vision in blue, Stephanie.”

“Do you like it?” Stephanie asked, twirling around so that Hannah could see the flared skirt below the impeccably tailored jacket.

“I just love that color,” Hannah answered truthfully, neglecting to mention that it was indeed possible to get too much of a good thing. Stephanie was living proof that the concept of overkill could be applied to fashion.

Stephanie turned to Lisa. “How about you, Lisa? Do you like my new outfit?”

Hannah waited breathlessly for Lisa’s answer. Her partner, well known for hating to hurt anyone’s feelings, would have to think fast on this one.

“It’s stunning,” Lisa said, and Hannah mentally congratulated her young partner for choosing a word with several shades of meaning. “Wherever did you get it?” Lisa continued breathlessly. “Unless, of course, you’re keeping that secret to yourself.”

“Well …” Stephanie considered it for a moment. “It’s a new, very exclusive shop at the mall. You have to know someone to get in. Everything they have is incredibly expensive …” Stephanie turned to her husband. “But I do think it’s worth it, don’t you, Richard?”

“Yes, definitely worth it,” the mayor pronounced, smiling at his wife. “Aren’t you going to tell them the secret about your charity gala, my sweetness?”

My sweetness! Hannah stared hard at their town’s most indiscreet Romeo. Although she didn’t usually place much credence in gossip, she might have to ask her mother about the mayor’s most recent transgression. De-lores was the founding member of what Hannah called The Lake Eden Gossip Hotline, and in a town the size of Lake Eden, everyone knew everything about everybody. It was possible to keep a three-way secret, but only if two of the three people were permanently billeted at Spring Brook Cemetery.

“I might just tell them,” Stephanie answered playfully, “but only if we can have some of their fabulous cookies and coffee.”

Hannah poured the coffee while Lisa took cookie orders from Lake Eden’s first couple. When they’d seated themselves at a table near the back of the coffee shop, Hannah opened the discussion with a question. “What’s all this about your gala, Stephanie?”

“I’ll tell you, but only if you promise to keep the details a secret.” She turned to Lisa and Hannah. “Girls?”

Although Hannah hadn’t been called a girl in a month of Sundays, perhaps even much longer, she nodded. It was what Stephanie expected. Lisa did the same. and both the mayor and his wife gave them smiles of approval.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that I agreed to chair the Lake Eden Combined Charities Drive this year,” Stephanie said.

“We knew that,” Hannah told her. “It was in the Lake Eden Journal last week.”

“But here’s something that wasn’t in the papers.” Stephanie leaned across the table. “I managed to book Samantha Summerfield as the guest speaker at the opening luncheon.”

“The same Samantha Summerfield who’s on Hello Handsome?” Lisa asked.

“That’s right. She’s in Minneapolis visiting her family while the show’s on hiatus. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Very exciting!” Lisa’s eyes were like saucers. “But why would she come here? To Lake Eden?”

“Because she wants to help our charities.” Stephanie looked smug. “She believes she can help us raise money for a worthy cause.”

How much of a cut are you giving her? Hannah wanted to ask. And if that wasn’t it, her second question would be, What bargaining chip do you have to hang over her head? But she asked nothing. Stephanie and the mayor wouldn’t tell them anyway. Instead, Hannah locked eyes with Lisa. Her glance said, Watch out! She wants something! And Lisa’s return glance replied, Thanks for warning me. I’ll be careful.

“Now, not a word to anyone,” Stephanie went on, “not until the news breaks on KCOW television tonight. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Lisa breathed.

“Fine,” Hannah said, not particularly impressed with the sitcom actress who was gracing their charity luncheon with her presence.

“The charity drive is incredibly important this year,” Stephanie went on. “We need to raise more money than we’ve ever raised before. We have six projects that are red-flagged and we simply have to find the money to fund them!”

Hannah and Lisa listened as Stephanie gave them an overview. It seemed that the Children’s Home needed a new roof; Jordan High had to update their computer equipment; The Senior Center had a budget that was much too small for their needs; and the Piggy Bank, a fund that provided clothing and school supplies for underprivileged children, had completely run out of money. Marge Beese-man, their volunteer librarian, had requested several reference works and a microfiche reader, and although Janice Cox’s preschool, Kiddie Korner, was self-sufficient, she’d asked the combined charity for the money to put in a small kitchen so that she could serve a hot lunch to her students.

“And that’s just the tip of the iceberg,” Stephanie told them, ending her recital with a dramatic sigh. “I know times are tough right now, but my goal is to present a truly gala event, a three-day happening that everyone in the Tri-County Area will want to attend.”

“Attend and pledge to the cause,” Mayor Bascomb added.

“Exactly right. Of course we can’t use the Lake Eden Community Center as a venue. It’s just too small, especially with the crowd that Samantha is bound to draw. Richard and I considered holding it at the Lake Eden Inn, but Dick and Sally are completely booked. I’m just so lucky my Richard came through for me. He spoke to Ken Purvis and since summer school doesn’t start for another two weeks, he’s agreed to let us use the Jordan High auditorium, all the grounds, including the football field and the baseball stadium, and the entire parking lot.”

“Do you really think there’ll be that many people?” Hannah asked.

“I know there will be. I’ve already received over five hundred reservations for the opening day luncheon, and more are pouring in every day. And this is before I told anyone about Samantha Summerfield.”

“So how many are you expecting?” Hannah asked.

“At least a thousand. I arranged for party tents to be set up on the football field, and the Lake Eden Nursery on Old Lake Road has agreed to bring live plants and flowers to decorate the area. It’ll be like a garden party. And after the luncheon is over?”

Stephanie turned to her husband and the mayor continued. “Personnel from the nursery are going to sell the plants and give fifty percent of the profits to Stephanie.”

“Well, not to me personally,” Stephanie gave a tinkling little laugh. “It’s for the Lake Eden Combined Charities.”

“That’s very nice,” Hannah said, still waiting for the second shoe to drop. Stephanie wanted something from them and she hadn’t asked for it yet.

“This is going to be a spectacular party.” Stephanie looked from Hannah to Lisa and then back again. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you today, before you got too busy. I’m going to need over a thousand sugar cookies.”

“When do you need them?” Hannah asked, knowing that Stephanie’s answer would dictate theirs. June was their busy month with bridal showers, weddings, graduation parties, family reunions, and barbecues galore. Everyone wanted cookies, and Hannah and Lisa provided them. It was also a busy month for non-work obligations. Both Hannah and Lisa were invited to a series of parties and barbecues to celebrate the beginning of summer.

“The luncheon is on Wednesday afternoon. We’re having raspberry sorbet for dessert and we were planning to serve it with a chocolate leaf garnish. Isn’t that clever?”

“Chocolate and raspberry go well together,” Hannah said, wondering what was so clever about the combination that had been around for years.

“I’m talking about the leaf design. The theme of my charity event is Turn Over a New Leaf. I want everyone who attends to turn over a new leaf and pledge twice the amount they pledged last year.”

“Oh. Of course,” Hannah said, although she hadn’t known about the theme. She wasn’t about to admit that she’d received information about Stephanie’s charity event and it was still sitting on her desk at home, waiting to be opened.

“I contracted with the little chocolate shop I frequent when I’m in Minneapolis. They assured me that they could make the leaves, but the owner called this morning to say they couldn’t fill the order. It was something about not being able to get supplies. And that’s why I’m here. I need twelve hundred sugar cookies by noon on Wednesday for the luncheon. You can decorate them with a leaf made out of chocolate frosting, can’t you? I know it’s late in the day, but just an outline of a leaf would be all right.”

Hannah began to frown. The cookies themselves were no problem, but Lisa would have to decorate each cookie and that would take time. It was time they didn’t have, not with all their other orders. And Stephanie probably expected them to donate the cookies for free!

She must have sensed Hannah’s reluctance because Stephanie held up her hand. “I know you probably won’t charge me since it’s for such a worthy cause, but I insist on paying you for the ingredients. That way you won’t have any out of pocket expenses.”

But you won’t pay us for our time, and that’s the most expensive variable in the equation. Any time we spend on your order is less time we can spend on the customers who actually pay! Hannah didn’t voice her thoughts. It wasn’t politic to alienate the female half of Lake Eden’s first couple. But before she could tell Stephanie that they couldn’t possibly take on a project that large with such short notice, Lisa spoke up.

“We can’t fill your order, Mrs. Bascomb. There just isn’t enough time to decorate all those cookies. It’s very labor intensive. But we can give you chocolate sugar cookies to go with your raspberry sorbet.”

“I’ve never heard of chocolate sugar cookies,” Mayor Bascomb commented.

Neither have I, Hannah added silently, hoping that Lisa had a recipe for the treat she’d just promised to bake.

“And I have another dessert idea for you,” Lisa continued. “It’s something that fits right in with your theme, Turn Over a New Leaf. Hannah and I could bake apple turnovers for you to sell during the events. Everyone loves apple turnovers.”

“Perfect!” Stephanie breathed. “You’re a genius, Lisa!”

“Thank you. You can set up a booth, man it with volunteers, and heat the turnovers in a toaster oven so they’re warm and smell divine.”

“We could do that,” Stephanie agreed, nodding quickly.

“Hannah and I will provide the turnovers and we’ll follow Lake Eden Nursery’s example. We’ll donate fifty percent of our profits to your charity drive.”

“Wonderful! But how about coffee? Could we have your coffee for sale, too?” Stephanie glanced down at her cup. “This is simply marvelous coffee.”

“Thank you.” Hannah took the hint and reached out to refill Stephanie’s cup. “It’s a new kind of coffee from my high school friend, Pat Vota.”

“Vota …” the mayor repeated, looking thoughtful. “If I’m remembering right, he was a heck of a basketball player. Maybe I should give him a jingle and see if he’ll donate some of this coffee to the cause.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, dear!” Stephanie praised him. And then she turned to Hannah. “Do you think he might send us a case or two?”

“I don’t know,” Hannah said. There was no way she’d make any sort of commitment for a classmate she hadn’t seen since the summer after they’d graduated.

“Well, look who’s here,” a voice called out and Hannah turned to glance at the customer who’d come in the door and was headed straight for their table. There was no way she could mistake his lean, well-muscled body, his glossy brown hair worn slightly longer in front, and his remarkable brown eyes with sprinkles of gold in their depths. It was Bradford Ramsey and he’d clearly impressed Lake Eden’s first couple with his handsome, talented, sensitive and caring professor act. What was he doing here in her cookie shop?

“Bradford!” Stephanie turned to greet him. “You know my husband, of course.”

“Of course. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Mayor.”

“This is Lisa Beeseman,” Stephanie went on with the introductions. “She’s married to our town marshal. And this is Hannah Swensen.”

Bradford turned his thousand-watt smile in Hannah’s direction. “Hannah and I have met … haven’t we, Hannah?”

Hannah’s mouth went suddenly dry, as parched as a nomad caught in a desert sandstorm without benefit of water. She managed to nod, but all the while her mind was screaming out a warning. He knows! It took him a while, but he remembered me! And now he’s going to tell everyone here about us!

“You know Hannah?” Stephanie asked him, completely oblivious to Hannah’s inner distress.

“I certainly do! And I’ll tell you a little secret about her.”

Hannah prayed for a loud clap of thunder to drown out his words. Or a tornado to touch down and whirl her away to another land, like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. Any sort of major disaster would do as long as it would keep him from revealing her painful secret.

Bradford leaned closer and gave her a little wink. “You might not know this, but Hannah makes the best plum pudding I’ve ever tasted. I’m her sister’s faculty advisor and I had the pleasure of joining the whole Swensen family for dessert on Christmas Eve.”

He didn’t remember! Hannah felt weak with relief. He hadn’t remembered on Christmas Eve and he still didn’t remember. She was safe! He had no idea she was the naive graduate student who’d fallen under his spell while they were in college. But he would remember … eventually. That knowledge was like the sword of Damocles suspended over her head.

“Nice to meet you, Lisa,” Bradford continued, “and it’s good to see everyone else again. I just stopped in for a quick hello when I saw you through the window. Now I’ve got to run back out to the college. There’s a department meeting I can’t miss.”

As the front door shut behind Bradford, Hannah felt her composure begin to return. The crisis was averted … for now at least. She took a few deep breaths, pasted a pleasant expression on her face, and began to listen to the conversation again. With a little luck, no one had noticed how distressed she’d been.

“We’ll leave the pricing of the turnovers up to you, Mrs. Bascomb,” Lisa was saying. “All you have to do is tell us what day you want us to deliver.”

“All three days,” the mayor answered quickly. “They’ll be a big hit during intermission at the talent show on Wednesday night.”

“You’re absolutely right, Richard!” Stephanie beamed at her husband.

“There’s a talent show?” Lisa asked, and Hannah hid a grin. It was clear her young partner hadn’t opened her charity information packet, either.

“It’s a show for local talent in the Tri-County Area,” Stephanie explained. “We’re going to poll the audience and give cash prizes to the top three acts of the evening.”

“Thursday night is Casino Night,” Mayor Bascomb explained. “We’ll be playing for prizes that are donated by local merchants, and people will be walking around from table to table.” The mayor turned to his wife. “I think you should sell turnovers during Casino Night too … don’t you, my sweetness?”

“Yes, I do. We can set up a little bistro in a corner of the auditorium. We’ll put out chairs and little tables and people can wander in for coffee and turnovers.”

“How about during donkey baseball on Friday afternoon?” the mayor asked her.

“That’s a natural, Richard. We’ll be right there on the school baseball field and we can use the snack shack to sell them. Actually … we could send the volunteers into the stands to sell coffee and turnovers the way they sell peanuts at major league baseball games.”

Hannah risked a glance at Lisa. Her partner didn’t look at all worried. Hannah hoped that was because Lisa had baked apple turnovers hundreds of times at home. Hannah had made plenty of pies, but she’d never even tried to make a turnover!

“Is there still time for people to enter the talent show?” Lisa asked, and Hannah assumed she was asking for Herb’s benefit.

“I have room for five more contestants, and all you have to do is pay the twenty-five dollar entrance fee,” Stephanie told her. “Will you be singing? Or dancing?”

Lisa gave a little laugh. “Oh, not me! I don’t have any talent like that. I was asking for my husband. Herb’s an amateur magician and he’s really good.”

“That’s right! Someone told me he was fabulous at the Tri-County Fair. We’d love to have him enter. We don’t have any other magicians and everyone loves a magic show.”

“Then I’ll pay his entrance fee right now,” Lisa said, rushing behind the counter to get her purse. “Herb just loves to perform his illusions.”

Hannah watched as the deed was accomplished. Lisa handed over the money, Mrs. Bascomb assured her that every cent of it would go to charity, and then she wrote out a receipt on a napkin.

“You’ll just love the talent show,” Stephanie commented, handing over the napkin. “Perry and Sherri Connors are dancing right after the intermission.”

“Perry and Sherri are in the talent show?” Lisa asked, her voice high and strained.

Hannah read her partner’s expression and she could tell exactly what Lisa was thinking. Why had she just paid twenty-five dollars to enter The Amazing Herb in a talent contest he couldn’t possibly win? Perry and Sherri were world-class dancers. They’d won every competition they’d entered, and just last week the Lake Eden Journal had run an article announcing that the Connors twins would be showcasing their dancing talent in a live television special that would air Christmas Day. The twins would be reprising famous dance routines that Fred As-taire and Ginger Rogers had performed during their long careers.

“Oh, they’re not talent show contestants,” Stephanie explained. “They’re just going to demonstrate one of the routines they learned for the television special. I thought it would be a real treat for the audience.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Lisa said with a smile and Hannah could see her visibly relax.

“I have another treat, too,” Stephanie said. “I snagged the most wonderful person to be the host.”

“Not Samantha Summerfield!” Lisa looked astounded.

“No. She’ll be commenting from the audience during the first half of the show, but her driver is picking her up during intermission. It’s Bradford Ramsey. He agreed right away when I asked him to host the show. He told me he really loves performing in front of an audience and he’s very eager to help our charities.”

“That’s nice of him,” Lisa commented.

“He seems like a great guy,” Mayor Bascomb gave his opinion.

Hannah said nothing. Instead, she busied herself by adding more cookies to the plate on the table. Bradford was neither a nice man nor a great guy, and she knew that for a fact. He was a skunk, a snake, and a lying, cheating, totally unredeemable jerk. To think that she’d once been in love with him was even worse than embarrassing. The less the mayor, Stephanie, and Lisa knew about her unhappy past with Bradford Ramsey, the better!

“Tell me you know how to make chocolate sugar cookies and apple turnovers, “Hannah said to Lisa the moment the door had closed behind the mayor and Stephanie.

“I know how to make chocolate sugar cookies. I found a recipe in one of Mom’s boxes and I made them for Herb’s birthday. Everybody really loved them.” “Great. How about apple turnovers?” “I don’t know how to make apple turnovers.” Hannah let out a groan that would have awakened a hibernating bear. “But you promised Stephanie we’d make them.”

“I know. Don’t worry, Hannah. Marge makes the best apple turnovers I’ve ever tasted, and she told me it’s easier than making pies. She baked over a hundred for our family reunion last year.”

Hannah began to feel better immediately. Lisa’s mother-in-law was an excellent cook and baker who never did anything fancy. She’d grown up on wholesome home-cooked meals and if she’d baked that many apple turnovers, it couldn’t be that difficult to do.

“Will Marge teach us how to make them?” Hannah asked.

“I’m sure she will. I’ll give her a call right now and ask. Knowing Marge, she’ll probably offer to help us bake them and talk Aunt Patsy into coming along, too.”

“That would be great. I’d feel a lot more confident if somebody knew what they were doing.”

“Me too.” Lisa gave a little smile. “Now I want you to stop worrying about the recipes and the baking, and think of all the money we’re going to make on a gazillion apple turnovers!”

It was two in the afternoon and everything was coming up roses. Or at least it was coming up daisies, Hannah amended the old adage. There still weren’t enough hours in the day to get everything done to her satisfaction, but Marge and Patsy had offered to help with the turnovers. They’d even suggested a plan. Since Marge’s turnovers froze beautifully, they were going to start baking them tonight, right after The Cookie Jar closed for business. Jack, who’d convinced Marge that he was the fastest apple peeler in Minnesota history, would come with them to operate the old-fashioned apple peeler, corer, and slicer that his grandmother had used in her farm kitchen. Hannah would leave once everyone had arrived and drive to her condo to check on the cats and go out to The Corner Tavern with Mike, who’d stopped in at The Cookie Jar to tell her that no one had broken into Norman’s house. What his neighbor had thought was a burglar was actually only a burned out lightbulb that Mike had replaced.

“I’ve got something for you to taste,” Lisa called out, emerging from the kitchen with a plate of cookies.

“Chocolate Sugar Cookies?” Hannah guessed, gazing down at the sparkling grains of sugar on the dark chocolate cookies.

“Right. I called Dad and he read the recipe to me over the phone. I just thought I’d try them to make sure they were as good as I remembered.”

Hannah bit into one of the still-warm cookies and gave a little sigh of contentment. She was about to take another bite when Jon Walker, the local druggist who’d come in for his early afternoon break, tapped her arm to get her attention.

“How about us?” he asked, making a sweeping gesture that included everyone seated at the counter. “We’ll help you test those cookies.”

Both Hannah and Lisa laughed. Their customers were always ready to critique new cookies. “Here you go,” Lisa said, passing the plate to Jon so that he could distribute them.

Stan Kramer, Hannah’s accountant, was the first to comment. “Good crunch,” he said.

“They’re nice and buttery,” Bertie Straub, owner of Lake Eden’s beauty parlor, the Cut ’n Curl, gave her assessment.

“And the chocolate is just right,” Jon said. “It’s dark, and sweet and …”

“Yummy!” Hannah finished the sentence for him.

Father Coultas, who was sitting at the end of the counter, gave Lisa the high sign. “I’d give it a ten out of ten,” he said. “You’ll bring some to our next bake sale, won’t you, Lisa?”

Just then the bell on the front door tinkled and Andrea stepped in. As usual, she could have stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. Her makeup was perfect, and her shining blond hair was caught up in a barrette, a hairstyle that exposed the back of her slender neck and was perfect for a warm summer day. She was wearing a mint green dress with a full skirt that was decorated with wide black rickrack around the collar and hem. A black leather belt with a rickrack design nipped in Andrea’s slim waist, and black leather sandals with tiny heels completed the outfit.

“What an adorable outfit!” Bertie said by way of greeting.

“Thanks, Bertie.” Andrea gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and then she turned to Hannah. “Could I see you in the kitchen for a minute?”

Uh-oh! Hannah’s mind shouted as her sisterly radar went on high alert. Something was definitely wrong. Although Andrea was smiling as she led the way to the kitchen, Hannah could tell by her sister’s stiff posture that she was barely holding herself together.

“What is it?” Hannah asked, the moment the swinging, restaurant-style door had closed behind them.

“It’s Bill!” Andrea took a deep breath and tried to control herself, but she seemed unable to keep up the façade and she dissolved in tears.

Hannah imagined the worst. “He’s all right, isn’t he? I mean … he didn’t have an accident or anything, did he?”

Andrea shook her head, but she was crying so hard, she couldn’t speak.

“You’re shaking your head no.” Hannah could have kicked herself for asking two opposing questions. “Does that mean no, Bill’s not all right? Or no, Bill didn’t have an accident?”

Andrea took another deep breath and swallowed noisily. “Bill didn’t have an accident. And he’s all right … but I’m not!”

“What’s wrong with you?” Hannah asked, her anxiety growing. It was obvious that Andrea was very upset.

“I’m afraid Bill will make the wrong decision. Or maybe it’ll be the right decision for him, but it’ll turn out to be the wrong decision for me.” Andrea sniffled and wiped her eyes with a tissue that was so wet and ragged, it was almost unrecognizable.

“Here,” Hannah said, grabbing a stack of napkins from the supply cart against the wall and handing them to her sister.

“If he says yes, there aren’t enough tissues in the whole world!” Andrea wailed, grabbing several napkins from the top of the stack and wiping her eyes.

This was a crisis of the highest magnitude. Hannah knew that because Andrea had just smeared both eyeliner and mascara. “Hold on,” she said. “We need coffee.”

It only took a moment for Hannah to fill two cups from the kitchen coffee pot and carry them to the workstation. Then she made another trip to the baker’s rack beside the oven, scooped up a half-dozen of Lisa’s Chocolate Sugar Cookies, and transferred them to a plate.

“Eat,” she ordered, setting the plate in front of her sister.

“I’m not h–hungry.”

Hannah could tell that more tears were imminent by the quaver in her sister’s voice. “You don’t have to be hungry. Just eat a cookie. It’s medicinal.”

The I’m-your-big-sister-and-I-know-best tone in Hannah’s voice must have been convincing, because Andrea picked up a cookie and ate it. When the first cookie had disappeared, Hannah pushed the plate closer, and Andrea took another.

“Coffee,” Hannah instructed, pointing to the mug she’d set in front of her sister. “Take a sip of coffee to wash down that second cookie, and then tell me all about it.”

Andrea didn’t argue. She just did as Hannah directed. And then she let out a quavering sigh. “It’s Bill,” she said, repeating what she’d said earlier.

“You told me that. What about Bill?”

“He’s been …” Andrea stopped and cleared her throat. “He’s been offered a new job!”

“As Managing Sheriff of the Tri-County Area?” Hannah hazarded a guess.

“No! That’d be wonderful. If they offered him that job, I’d want him to accept right away. But they didn’t. And this job isn’t wonderful. This job is just … just awful!”

“If it’s that awful, he shouldn’t take it,” Hannah said reasonably.

“I know that. But I’m not sure Bill knows that. You see, it’s almost double the money, and he’d have his own practically unlimited expense account. And the benefits are even better than the ones he has now.”

Hannah began to frown. “I must be missing something here. What you just described sounds like everybody’s dream job. What’s so awful about it?”

“It’s not the job that’s so awful. It’s just that it’s for Tachyon.”

“What’s Tachyon?” Hannah asked, managing, somehow, to curb her impatience. Getting information from Andrea could be a long, painful process.

“It’s a big security corporation. Bill got a call from them this afternoon and they offered him a job heading up their quality control division.”

Hannah felt a bit like someone trying to put a jigsaw puzzle together without the picture on the cover of the box. Andrea was feeding her pieces of information, but she was far from seeing the whole picture. “Why is Tach-yon interested in Bill?” she asked, hoping for another piece to help her complete the puzzle.

“They liked the work he did for them last year. Tach-yon makes security devices, and they test them by sending out samples to law enforcement agencies all across the country. The feedback they get tells them how to make the products better.”

Hannah remembered the security cameras that Mike had been testing. “Did Tachyon make the security cameras that Mike was testing for the department?”

“Yes. They make all sorts of things for home and office security. Bill brought home one of their touchpad locks, but that didn’t work out for us.”

“Why not?”

“Peanut butter gums up the whole thing and there’s no good way to clean it out. Bill put that in his notes. Not recommended for families with small children. He was in charge of compiling all the reports from the Minnesota law enforcement agencies and transmitting them to Tachyon. They were so impressed with his suggestions they called him up to offer him the job.”

“He didn’t accept, did he?”

“No, but he hasn’t turned them down yet, either.” Andrea’s eyes began to glisten and she blinked back fresh tears. “I know it’s a great opportunity, but I don’t want to move!”

She’d finally struck pay dirt with her questions! Hannah came close to shouting Eureka! but she managed to restrain herself. Instead, she posed a question. “Why would you have to move if Bill takes the job with Tachyon?”

“Because they want him to work at headquarters, and Tachyon headquarters is in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. I don’t want to move away when my whole family is here in Lake Eden!”

“Of course you don’t.” Hannah reached out to pat her sister’s hand.

“And … and besides, they’ve got crocodiles in Florida!”

“Alligators, not crocodiles,” Hannah corrected her.

“Whatever. They’re slimy green things with big teeth, and sometimes they even knock on the door. I saw that on the news. A woman went to answer the door and when she opened it, there was a big crocodile!”

“Alligator. I saw that, too.”

“Then you can understand how I feel. What if Tracey answered the door. Or Bethie. She can turn the knob now, and Grandma McCann can’t kept an eye on her every minute of the day. If we moved to Florida, Bethie could end up being some crocodile’s dinner!”

“Take it easy, Andrea.” Hannah didn’t bother making the alligator correction a third time. It didn’t really matter what Andrea called the carnivorous swamp dweller. It was still scary, and Hannah could understand why Andrea was upset.

“You understand, don’t you?” Andrea paused to take a deep breath. “I don’t want to move. I just know I’d hate it there. But at the same time this could be a big career move for Bill, and I don’t want to stand in his way.”

“I understand perfectly,” Hannah said, wondering what she’d do if she were faced with a similar dilemma. Andrea was caught between husband and family, torn between her duty and her desire. Hannah hadn’t thought it could ever happen, but it made her own dilemma of trying to choose between the two men she loved seem practically trivial in comparison.

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

2 cups melted butter (4 sticks, one pound)

4 one-ounce squares semi-sweet chocolate (I used Baker’s) 2 cups powdered sugar (not sifted)

1 cup white sugar

2 eggs

2 teaspoons vanilla

1 teaspoon orange zest (optional)

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon cream of tartar (critical!)

1 teaspoon salt

4¼cups flour (not sifted)

½ cup white sugar in a small bowl (for later)

Melt the butter and chocolate squares in a saucepan over low heat, stirring constantly, or in the microwave.(I melted mine in a quart measuring cup in the microwave on HIGH for 3 minutes.) Once the butter and chocolate are melted, stir them smooth, transfer them to a large mixing bowl, and add the powdered and white sugars. Stir thoroughly and set the mixture aside to cool.

When the mixture is cool enough so it won’t cook the eggs, add the eggs, one at a time, stirring after each addition. (You can use an electric mixer at this point if you like.) Then mix in the vanilla, orange zest, (if you decided to use it) baking soda, cream of tartar, and salt. Mix it all together.

Add flour in half-cup increments, mixing after each addition. You don’t have to be precise—just divide your flour into roughly 4 parts. (One very important reason for adding flour in increments is so that the whole mountain of flour won’t sit there on top of your bowl and spill out all over the place when you try to stir it in.)

Once the dough has been thoroughly mixed, roll one-inch dough balls with your fingers. (You can also use a 2-teaspoon scooper to form the dough balls). Dip the balls in the bowl of white sugar and roll them around until they’re coated.

Place the dough balls on a greased cookie sheet, (I usually spray mine with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray,) 12 dough balls to a standard-size sheet. Flatten the dough balls a bit with your impeccably clean palm so that they won’t roll off the cookie sheet on the way to the oven.

Bake the Chocolate Sugar Cookies at 325 degrees for 10 to 15 minutes. (Mine took 12 minutes.) Cool them on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes and then remove the cookies to a wire rack to finish cooling.

Yield: Approximately 7 to 8 dozen fudgy, melt-in-your-mouth, sugar cookies.

“Remind me not to order that again,” Mike said, pulling into the alley that ran past the back of The Cookie Jar.

“You didn’t like your peanut butter pepper burger?”

“It was … interesting.”

Hannah laughed. “That word covers a multitude of put-downs.”

“That’s true.” Mike pulled into the parking lot at the back of The Cookie Jar, parked next to Hannah’s cookie truck, and grabbed the bag of burgers they’d brought for what Hannah thought of as the Beeseman-Herman clan. “Beautiful night,” he said, looking up at the night sky.

“Yes.” Hannah looked up at the myriad of stars shining brilliantly overhead. After a day that had topped the eighties, the temperature had dropped to the low seventies and the air felt cool, a rarity in Minnesota where the difference between the high and low in the summer was seldom more than a few degrees.

There was a low sound as Hannah passed Herb’s cruiser. It was midway between a whimper and a bark, and she moved a few steps closer. The windows were down, and she could see Herb and Lisa’s puppy on a rug in the back bench seat. “Hi, Dillon,” she said. “What are you doing out here all alone?”

Dillon stared at her with sad puppy-dog eyes, and Hannah would have reached in to pet him, but she knew that Herb was training him and she didn’t want to break any rules. “I’ll come back with a treat,” she promised, “if Daddy says it’s all right.”

“Poor little guy’s probably lonely out here,” Mike said. “Why don’t you ask Herb if he can come in?”

“I would if you weren’t here. It’s against health board regulations.”

“I’m not the health board.”

“Then it’s okay?”

“It’s okay by me. Besides, Herb’s training him to be a police dog. Police dogs can go anywhere they’re needed.”

“And Dillon is needed inside?”

“I’d say so. Somebody might break in and try to steal those apple turnovers you’re making. If that happens, Herb and I might need a little police dog assistance.”

Hannah gave Mike an approving look. When he’d first come to Lake Eden, he’d been a “by-the-book” cop. He’d moved here from Minneapolis, and big city police departments had to be stricter and their officers were expected to follow regulations to the letter. It had taken quite a while for Mike to learn that things were more relaxed in Lake Eden, and the rules were tempered by common sense.

When Hannah and Mike opened the back door of The Cookie Jar, a delightful scent rolled out to meet them. Hannah identified cinnamon, cardamom, and apples baking in what she was sure was a buttery crust.

“Mmmm,” Mike said with a sigh, taking a big gulping breath of the heady scent. “Nothing smells better than apple pie in the oven.”

“They’re apple turnovers,” Marge corrected him.

“I know, Mrs. Beeseman. Hannah told me. But it smells like my mom’s kitchen during apple-picking season. She used to make at least a dozen pies a day.”

“Did she sell them?”

“No, they were for the freezer. Apple pie was my dad’s favorite and he always wanted it for Sunday dinner.”

“Your Mom must have used cinnamon, nutmeg, and cardamom,” Lisa told him. “That’s what Marge uses.”

Mike shrugged. “I guess she must have because it sure reminds me of home. My mouth’s watering and my stomach’s growling, and I just had a full meal.”

“My stomach’s growling and my mouth’s watering, too,” Jack Herman, Lisa’s father, spoke up. He was a tall, silver-haired man in his sixties who’d been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease a little over two years ago. When Lisa had married Herb, Marge had given them her house as a wedding present. She’d moved in with Lisa’s father and had become his primary caretaker so that Lisa would be free to enjoy married life with her son.

Normally, in a small town the size of Lake Eden, people would have voiced loud disapproval of a widow who moved in with a widower without benefit of marriage. In Jack Herman and Marge Beeseman’s case, there wasn’t a breath of censure, or even gossip. Everyone in Lake Eden liked Herb. He was their town marshal in charge of parking enforcement. And everyone thought Lisa was a sweet, selfless young woman for giving up her college scholarship to stay home and take care of her dad. Both Jack Herman and Marge Beeseman were respected members of the community, and if they wanted to share a house, that was fine with Lake Edenites.

“Your stomach’s growling because you haven’t had supper,” Marge said, smiling at Jack. Then she turned to her sister Patsy, who also lived with them. “Don’t start thawing that next batch of puff pastry. We’ll take a break to eat and then we’ll get right back to it.”

Hannah handed the bag of burgers to Marge, and then she turned to Herb. “How about Dillon? Is it okay if he comes inside for a cookie?”

Herb glanced at Mike. “How about the health regulations?” he asked.

“They don’t apply to special needs dogs or police dogs,” Mike told him.

“Great! Will you open the door, Hannah? I’ll call him.”

“Sure, but he’s inside your cruiser.”

“That’s okay. The windows are down. Just open the door and watch what happens.”

Hannah opened the back door. “What now?” she asked Herb.

“Now I call him.” Herb pulled a silver whistle from his pocket and put it to his lips. Hannah listened but the whistle didn’t make a sound.

“Is it broken?” Patsy asked.

“No, it’s a dog whistle. It’s such a high frequency humans can’t hear it.” Herb raised the whistle again. “Step aside, Hannah. He’ll come barreling in any second.”

Herb blew the whistle again and Hannah heard a thump outside as Dillon hit the ground running. A second later he raced in the door, skidded to a stop in front of Herb, and sat down on his haunches.

“Good boy!” Herb praised him. And then he patted Dillon on the head and scratched him behind the ears.

“Impressive,” Mike said. “There’s only one thing I’m wondering about.”

“What’s that?”

“Will Dillon come to anybody who blows a dog whistle?”

“No, not unless they know the code.”

“This little dog knows codes?” Jack asked, looking astounded.

“Just one, and I guess it can’t hurt to tell you. It’s three blasts on the dog whistle, a pause, and then two more blasts. That’s the only thing he responds to. Any other combination of whistles and he just sits there waiting.”

“Smart.” Mike said.

“Very smart,” Jack agreed, eyeing the bag of hamburgers on the counter. “Is there a hamburger for … what was his name again, son?”

“Dillon,” Herb told him.

“Right. And it’s for Marshal Dillon. I keep thinking it’s Field Marshal Montgomery, but he’s British and my granddog’s not British. Dillon’s foreign, but he’s from Labrador.”

Herb and Lisa laughed, and Jack looked pleased. “But he’s only half Labrador. The other half’s … what is it again?”

“Jack Russell Terrier,” Lisa told him, “and heaven only knows what else is in there.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s a handsome guy.” Hannah went to the kitchen cabinet and took out a box of dog treats. “Can he have one of these, Herb?”

“Yes, but he won’t take it.”

“Why? Jon Walker’s dog, Skippy, just loves them.”

“Oh, Dillon would love one, but he won’t take it unless I say it’s all right. Go ahead and try to give it to him.”

Hannah walked over to Dillon with the dog treat and held it out. “Here you go, Dillon. Have a treat.”

Anyone watching could tell that Dillon wanted the treat. He gave a soft little whimper, but he turned his head away.

“Try again,” Herb said.

“Here, Dillon.” Hannah waved the treat under his nose. “It’s really good and it’s yours.”

Dillon turned his head away for the second time, and Herb gave a proud smile. Then he said to Hannah, “Okay, try it again. This time I’ll tell him it’s okay.”

Hannah held out the treat. “Do you want this?”

“It’s okay, Dillon,” Herb said, and Dillon gently took the treat from Hannah’s hand.

“That’s really impressive,” Hannah said. “Do you train cats?”

Everyone laughed, including Herb, who finally stopped chuckling enough to speak. “If you’re talking about Moishe, the answer is no. Moishe’s a very smart cat. If I tried to train Moishe, he’d end up training me!”

“What’s the count?” Hannah asked at a few minutes past ten.

“Two hundred forty,” Lisa answered, picking up the last tray to come out of the oven and carrying it to the baker’s rack. “Do you think I should freeze these while they’re still warm?”

“Wait until morning,” Marge told her. “They’ll get ice crystals if you freeze them while they’re warm. Cover them with a sheet of wax paper until morning, and then wrap and freeze them.”

Hannah stood up and stretched her back. “You’re the boss, Marge,” she said, wiping down the work surface. She stopped as she came to the apple peeler that Marge and Jack had brought with them. “Do you want to take this home with you?”

“No sense in that,” Patsy said, also standing and stretching. “We’re just going to use it tomorrow night. Can you stick it in that industrial dishwasher of yours and save it for us when we come down here tomorrow night?”

“Sure, but are you sure you want to do this again tomorrow?”

Patsy laughed. “We’d better. Mrs. Mayor said she needed turnovers for the talent show, Casino Night, and Donkey Baseball. I figure that’s got to add up to seven hundred, maybe even a thousand.”

“You’re right,” Mike offered his opinion. “Anybody who eats one at intermission tomorrow night is going to want another one on Casino Night and another at Donkey Baseball. People are going to be talking about how good these turnovers are. That’s word of mouth and it’s going to send sales through the roof.”

“So you like my apple turnovers?” Marge asked him.

“They’re even better than my …” Mike stopped and looked as guilty as a small boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. “Don’t tell anybody I said this, okay? Mom’s apple pie is great. I love Mom’s apple pie. But your apple turnovers are even better!”

Hannah’s 1st Note: Marge uses commercial puff pastry dough for her turnover crusts. She says life’s too short to spend all day making puff pastry. She buys it frozen in sheets and thaws it as she needs it. One batch makes 8 turnovers, and Marge uses one 17.5-ounce package. Florence down at the Red Owl carries Pepperidge Farm frozen puff pastry dough and it contains 2 sheets.

If you’d rather, you can use pie crust dough. Just remember to roll it out a little thicker than you would for a regular pie since it won’t be in a pie pan.

The Crust

One 17.5-ounce package frozen puff pastry dough

1 egg

1 Tablespoon water

White (granulated) sugar to sprinkle on top

Apple Filling:4 and ½ cups cored, peeled, sliced, and chopped apples (I used 2 large Granny Smith apples and 2 large Fuji or Gala apples)

½ cup sweetened dried cranberries (I used Craisins)

1 Tablespoon lemon juice

⅓ cup white (granulated) sugar

¼ cup flour

⅓ teaspoon ground nutmeg (freshly ground is best, of course)

“ ” teaspoon cinnamon (if it’s been sitting in your cupboard for years, buy fresh!)

¼ teaspoon cardamom

¼ teaspoon salt

Thaw your puff pastry dough according to package directions, on a floured board.

While your pastry is thawing, core and peel the apples. Slice them as you would for a pie and then cut the slices into 3 pieces. Place the apples in a large mixing bowl and mix in the sweetened dried cranberries. Sprinkle the fruit with 1 Tablespoon of lemon juice to keep the apples from browning. Toss the mixture around with your fingers to make sure all the apples are moistened.

Mix the sugar, flour, spices, and salt together in a small bowl.

Dump the bowl with the dry ingredients on top of the apples and toss them to coat the apples. (You can use your fingers – it’s easier)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

When your puff pastry has thawed, roll half of it out to a twelve-inch square on a floured board. Use a sharp knife to make one horizontal line through the middle of the square and one vertical line through the middle of the square. This will divide it into 4 equal (or nearly equal) pieces.

Break the egg into a cup. Add 1 Tablespoon of water and whisk it up. This will be your egg wash.

Line a cookie sheet with a piece of parchment paper.

Transfer one square of puff pastry dough to the cookie sheet.

Use a pastry brush to brush the inside edges of the square with the egg wash. This will make the edges stick together when you fold the dough over the apples.

With a slotted spoon, pick up approximately ½ cup of the filling (¼ cup for the smaller turnovers) and place it in the center of the square.

Pull one corner of the square over the filling to the opposite corner of the square, forming a triangle. Press the edges together.

Use the tines of a fork to seal the edges together.

Coat the top of the turnover with egg wash, using a pastry brush.

Cut two slits in the top of the turnover with a sharp knife. The slits should be about an inch long. (This is a very important step. Not only does it let out the steam when the turnovers bake, releasing a delicious aroma that’ll have the neighbors knocking at your door, it also gives everyone a peek at the delicious filling when it’s time to serve dessert.)

Follow the same procedure to fill and seal the remaining three turnovers.

Roll out the second sheet of puff pastry and cut it into squares. Transfer the squares to the baking sheet, and fill and seal the remaining turnovers.

When all the turnovers have been filled, sealed, and brushed with egg wash, sprinkle the tops with white sugar.

Bake your turnovers at 400 degrees F. for 25 minutes, or until they’re golden brown on top.

Remove the cookie sheet to a wire rack and let the turnovers cool for 5 minutes. Then pull the parchment paper and the turnovers off the cookie sheet and onto a waiting wire rack.

These turnovers are delicious eaten while slightly warm. They’re also good cold.

If any turnovers are left over (fat chance at my house!) wrap them loosely in wax paper and keep them in a cool place. The next day you can reheat them in the oven.

The dimly-lit garage smelled of wet concrete blocks, soaked by yesterday’s midafternoon rain shower, lingering exhaust fumes from recently departed vehicles, and a potpourri of coffee grounds and old orange peels from the dumpster that sat against the far wall. It wasn’t the stuff that perfumes are made of, but to Hannah it smelled like home.

Mike took her arm and walked her to the set of steps leading up to ground level. This took them past the dumpster and Hannah noticed that he wrinkled his nose. “Tomorrow’s garbage day?” he asked.

“That’s right. Every Tuesday morning.”

“I thought so. Something’s getting a little ripe in there.” Mike walked her to the covered staircase that led up to her second-floor condo.

“Coffee?” Hannah asked when they arrived at her door, even though every tired muscle in her body was screaming for the comfort of a soft mattress and as many hours sleep as she could get. The last thing she wanted tonight was company, but it was only polite to offer.

“No coffee for me, thanks. It’s almost eleven and you need your sleep. I just want to make sure everything’s okay inside and you’re locked in safe for the night.”

Hannah felt a warm glow start at her toes and move up her body to the top of her head. That was nice of Mike. Ever since she’d almost been killed six months ago, he’d been acting as her protector. And she could swear that he was making a real effort to curb his self-centered tendencies and put her concerns first. In her uncharitable moments, she thought it was probably because he was between girlfriends. And in her generous moments, she was sure that he really did love her to the exclusion of all others. Since she was a level-headed woman who saw the glass as neither half empty nor half full, but rather a glass with something in it and room to pour in more, she figured Mike’s true motivation was somewhere between the two extremes.

Mike took the keys she handed him and unlocked the door. They both prepared to catch Moishe as he hurtled through the air into waiting arms, but no orange and white cat leaped through the doorway.

“He’s probably snuggled up on the couch with Cuddles,” Hannah said.

Mike stepped in and turned back to her. “You’re right. Neither one of them is moving an inch. They’re too comfortable.”

“They certainly are!” Hannah followed Mike inside, and they stopped to pet the cats and scratch them under their chins. When both Moishe and Cuddles were purring blissfully, Mike moved on and Hannah stayed a few steps behind him.

“It was great the way you helped Jack with the apple peeler,” Hannah said, once Mike had checked the guest bathroom.

“That used to be my job when Mom made pies.” Mike opened the door to the guest room and bent to check under the bed. He made a move to open the closet, but Hannah grabbed his arm.

“Don’t!” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because something will fall out. It’s overflowing with stuff I should have packed off to the thrift store years ago.”

“But someone might be …”

“Hiding in there?” Hannah gave a little laugh as she interrupted him. “Impossible. There isn’t room for one more thing.”

“Okay. If you say so.” Mike moved on to her bedroom. The first thing he did was head for her closet. “Is it okay to check in here?” he asked.

“Yes. Everything I cleaned out of here is in the guest room closet.” Hannah was silent as Mike opened her closet and checked for intruders. When he’d slid the doors closed again, she followed him to her bathroom and waited while he checked that. “You made Jack feel good, asking him about the little animals he carves.”

“It was interesting. He knows a lot about wildlife.”

“Well, thank you for being so nice to him. Everybody there appreciated it.”

As they walked back down the hallway, Mike slipped his arm around her and gave her a little hug. “You don’t have to thank me for being nice to Jack. I like Jack. It’s true he’s losing it a little, but he’s still got more on the ball than a lot of people.”

“That’s true.”

“I like everyone who was at The Cookie Jar tonight. Lisa’s like the girl next door. She’s sweet, and nice, and … and wholesome. And Herb’s a true-blue Minnesota guy. He’d give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. And then there’s Marge. She’s got a big heart and she wants to help everybody. And I think Patsy’s the same way. It makes me feel good to be around people like that.”

Hannah smiled. “So you changed your mind about living in Lake Eden?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you first moved here, you thought it was too small, that it would be like living in a fishbowl.”

Mike shrugged. “Well, it is like living in a fishbowl. But I really don’t mind. I like almost everybody here in Lake Eden.”

“Everybody?” Hannah couldn’t resist teasing him a little.

Mike shrugged. “I said almost everybody. I even like Bertie Straub … in small doses.”

Hannah laughed. Bertie wasn’t shy about giving people advice, and she didn’t have a tactful bone in her body. She’d decided that her niece was the right woman for Mike even though Mike wasn’t interested. And every time she saw Mike, she tried to force the issue.

Mike opened the hall closet, glancing inside, and shut it again. Then he checked out the kitchen and the laundry room. “Everything looks good,” he told her.

“Great. Thanks for coming in to check.” Hannah led him to the door, but she didn’t open it. Instead, she stepped closer and gave him a little hug. It was intended as a thank-you hug, the kind of hug you’d give your brother-in-law if he’d just fixed your garbage disposal. But Mike must not have recognized the imaginary blue band around the generic hug, because he pulled her up tight against him and tipped her face up to kiss her.

Uh-oh, he’s got the wrong idea, Hannah thought as their kiss deepened. And a few seconds later, she thought, Uh-oh, he’s got the RIGHT idea! And she knew she’d better break things up quickly.

“Sorry,” Mike said, stepping away before she could even consider how to achieve the same result.

“That’s okay,” Hannah said, hoping the little quaver in her voice didn’t give away how captivated she’d been.

“I’d better go now, while I still can.” Mike walked to the door and turned. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

Hannah nodded. She knew Mike loved her … in his own way. She loved him too, but Mike’s love wasn’t exactly monogamous. Of course her love wasn’t exactly monogamous either since she also loved Norman. It was … complicated. Very complicated.

“I’ve got no right loving you. Not when I’m such a jerk.” Mike stopped speaking and sighed deeply. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Hannah. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me since my wife died, and I keep goofing it up right and left. It’s like I don’t want to succeed in love again. And as long as I’m fickle, I don’t have to try.”

Hannah didn’t know what to say. Mike was being brutally honest. Everything he’d said was true. “I … I think I understand,” she said.

“You’re too good for me, Hannah. If you hook up with me, I’m just going to break your heart. You should marry Norman. He loves you. I’m sure about that. Norman’s a really nice guy and he’ll treat you right.”

Again, Hannah was at a loss for words. She just stared at Mike, wondering what he’d say next. And then she realized what he’d already said. “You want me to marry Norman?”

“No! It’s not what I want, that’s for sure. But I think you should marry Norman. I know you want to get married. I’ve seen you with Tracey and Bethie, and I can tell you want kids of your own. Norman would make a great father.”

“True,” Hannah said, giving a tight little nod. “But I don’t want to get married to anyone! Not now. Maybe not ever. And you can’t palm me off on Norman like I’m some kind of bad poker hand!”

“I wasn’t …”

“Yes, you were!” Hannah interrupted him. “You were being all selfless and sweet, and trying to pull the wool over my eyes.”

“What wool? What are you talking about?”

“You don’t want to marry me anymore, and this is a good way of breaking up with me. It makes you look like the good guy. Why don’t you just come out and say that you don’t want to marry me anymore?”

“But I do! I just don’t think I’d do right by you, that’s all.” Mike put his hand on the doorknob, but he didn’t open it. Instead he turned back for a final word. “I’d be the happiest man in the world if you’d marry me, Hannah. I can’t think of anything that would be better for me. But it wouldn’t be better for you. You’d be miserable if you married me. Every time I turned around to look at a pretty woman, you’d wonder if I was going to make a move on her when you weren’t around. Think about it, Hannah. I’ve already let you down a couple of times in the past, and you’d have to be the biggest fool on earth to take a chance on me.”

And with that said, Mike pulled her into his arms and kissed her until her mind was spinning with joyful abandon.

There was no way of telling how long the kiss lasted. And there was no way of doubting that Mike desired her. It was a lover’s kiss, a way of communicating the closeness they both felt. Hannah reveled in the feeling for breathless moments and then … suddenly … Mike was gone, and she realized that she was standing there alone, with her fingertips touching her lips, swaying slightly, savoring the memory.

“Oh,” Hannah gave a soft little cry. Mike was willing to sacrifice his own happiness to keep her from making what he thought would be a dreadful mistake. She felt like running after him, throwing her arms around him, and …

The feel of warm fur brushing against her ankles brought her out of her imaginings and back in touch with reality. Was Mike putting her on? Was this a little game he was playing? Did he want her to feel so sorry for him, she’d race after him, tell him it didn’t matter, and melt into his arms?

Hannah pondered the questions for a moment, and then she sighed deeply. There was no way she could know for sure. Thank goodness Norman was coming back soon! Of course she’d never ask Norman for advice on her relationship with Mike, but just knowing that Norman was there, steady and loving, gave an anchor to her confused emotions.

And that was when she saw that the red light on her remote phone was blinking rhythmically. She’d missed a call working late at The Cookie Jar and she hadn’t noticed it when she’d come in with Mike.

Hannah took time to reach down and pet the two cats, and then she headed for the. . .