Plum Pudding Murder. Joanne Fluke
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“Then I’ll take one,” Andrea said, walking over to take a look. “But they’re all mixed up in the section together. Is there a way to tell how tall they are without measuring?”
“I’ll show you,” Mary said, gesturing to Andrea. “Just follow me and I’ll explain the color coding on the tags.”
As Andrea and Mary walked deeper into the forest of trees in the red section, Norman moved closer to Hannah. “They’re only on calling birds and already my head hurts.”
For a moment Hannah was thoroughly mystified and then she realized that We Wish You a Merry Christmas had ended and The Twelve Days of Christmas had taken its place. “Eight verses to go,” she said. “I’ve probably got some aspirin in my purse. Do you want a couple?”
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine just as soon as we get out of here.”
“Hey, Hannah.” Mike walked up to join them. “What do you say we try out the Yule Log?”
Hannah took one look at the Yule Log ride and shook her head. The “log” part was hollow and it held seats with harness-type safety belts to prevent falling as it swayed back and forth. The seats were divided into sets of pairs facing each other. At the apex of one end the rider was looking straight down at his partner, and at the apex of the other, their positions were reversed. The momentum gained on the downswings must have been fierce because the people who were riding were screaming every time they descended. Perhaps, when she was younger, she would have regarded his invitation as a challenge and gone on the ride just to prove she could. Now that she was older, she was wiser. “Thanks, but no thanks,” she said.
“Then how about Santa’s Magic Sleigh?”
“The Ferris wheel?”
“Yes, but each car is decorated like a sleigh and there’s a plastic reindeer in front. You can see the whole park from the top of the wheel,” Mike gestured toward the designer Ferris wheel that was slowly revolving in the distance.
Hannah knew she could handle that ride, but there was another consideration. “Only if I can take the reins.”
“But they don’t really do anything. I mean, the reindeer doesn’t move or anything and…”
“I know. I was just kidding you. Let’s wait until Andrea picks out her tree and then we can all go.”
“You two go ahead,” Norman said. “I’ll help Andrea with the tree. It won’t be hard now that Mary’s steered us to the right type.”
“Are you sure?” Hannah asked, wondering if Norman was just being polite.
“I’m positive. And don’t worry if you have to wait in line. You’ve got plenty of time. It’s going to take a while for Andrea to choose, and then they have to net her tree and tie it on top of her car.”
“All right then.” Hannah turned to Mike. “Let’s stop off at the Crazy Elf Cookie Shop on the way. I want to see if they really are running out of cookies.”
Hannah and Mike walked down the path between the tents. It was labeled North Pole Avenue and at the end was a row of log cabins. Each one had a sign hanging over the door on a pole that jutted out from the cabin. The sign reminded Hannah of the pictures she’d seen of English pubs, but it was clear these log cabins didn’t sell roast beef sandwiches and stout.
“Larry spent big bucks on those buildings,” Mike said, gesturing toward the Crazy Elf Toy Shop.
“How do you know?”
“I priced them when I lived in The Cities. I wanted to put one in the backyard for the mower, and the snow blower, and things like that.”
“How much were they?”
“It was a thousand for the smallest one, and that was a couple of years back. These have got to be the largest. They’re huge. And unless Larry got a real deal, they’ve got to run over five thousand apiece.”
“Maybe he’s renting,” Hannah suggested.
“That would make sense since he’ll be closing down right after Christmas. Either that, or he plans to put them up for sale.”
“They’re too big to put in a backyard.” Hannah noticed that a steady stream of customers was filing into the log cabin on the end and she steered Mike that way. “Who would buy them?”
“I don’t know. Someone with a hobby farm might like one. They could use it for a woodworking shop, or fancy storage, or anything like that. They’re even big enough for farm machinery, or a couple of cars.”
“Maybe,” Hannah said, sounding doubtful. The cabins had doors that were much too small for car or farm machine storage. They’d have to be remodeled and that would cost.
Mike gave a chuckle. “Mayor Bascomb can take one and use it for a second ice fishing house. It’s even bigger than the one he has.”
“I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if that happened,” Hannah said, stopping at the cabin with the most foot traffic and the one sporting a Crazy Elf Cookie Shop sign.
“Let’s go in and I’ll buy you a cup of coffee,” Mike said. “I’d buy you a cookie too, but they’re out.”
Hannah turned to him in amazement. “How can you tell from out here?”
“I’ve been watching and the only things the customers carry out are hot drink cups. If they had cookies, some of them would be carrying bags.”
“I’m impressed!”
“You should be,” Mike grinned down at her. “I guess that’s why I’m the detective and you’re not.”
Hannah bit her tongue. There was no way she was going to ruin the evening and point out that she’d solved more than a dozen murder cases. If she did that, Mike would be sure to point out that she’d gotten herself into trouble a couple of times, and he’d been the one who had to bail her out. It was best to remain silent and not bring up the subject that was a sore point between them.
“After you,” Mike said, opening the cabin door and holding it for Hannah.
“Thanks.” Hannah stepped inside and blinked a couple of times. It was glitter and glitz, glitz and glitter. The inside of the cookie shop was decorated with thousands of miniature Christmas lights and they were all blinking on and off randomly. Wreaths hung behind the serving counter, a large stuffed bear with a plaid Christmas hat was positioned near the area where the line formed, and every time someone walked past, the bear wished them a merry Christmas. Glittering garlands of silver and blue foil were looped in every place possible, electric candles were perched on every windowsill, and two huge