Plum Pudding Murder. Joanne Fluke
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Winter was hard, no doubt about that, but almost everyone agreed that December was a magical month. Any month with Christmas in it had to be enchanting. Lights twinkled in shop windows all along Main Street. The pink-flocked tree in the plate glass window of Doug Greerson’s First Mercantile Bank glittered with garlands of gold tinsel artfully looped from branch to branch. Pink satin balls were interspersed with gold candy canes, and pink mini-lights twinkled merrily.
Gus York had decorated his barber pole with colored lights again this year, and it reflected against the freshly fallen snow. The picture window that featured two chrome and leather barber chairs was outlined with garlands of pine boughs, red satin bows, and flashing white mini-lights.
Not to be outdone by his neighbor, Al Percy of Lake Eden Realty featured a miniature home in his front window. It had been wired, and lights blazed in the dining room, where a Christmas dinner was being served while the Christmas tree glowed softly in the den. Miniature wreaths were on every door, and the roof was decorated with a miniature Santa in his sleigh.
The window at Trudi’s Fabrics was a work of stitchery art. A red and green velvet quilt formed the background, and angels floated from nearly invisible fishing line hanging from the ceiling. Each angel wore a colorful robe, a sample of the Christmas fabrics that Trudi and Loretta featured in their store. Sparkling gold lights provided illumination as the angels floated over a miniature forest of potted baby spruce and blooming poinsettias.
Although Hannah couldn’t see the front window of Hal and Rose’s Café from her vantage point at The Cookie Jar, she knew Rose had put up her tree again this year. The shiny metal pine changed colors when a small spotlight shone through a disk of revolving colored gels. The metal trees had been very popular a few years before Hannah was born, and Hannah’s grandfather and father had stocked them at Lake Eden Hardware. As far as Hannah was concerned, Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without Rose’s tree on display.
“I’m back,” a voice called out, breaking into Hannah’s thoughts. It was Lisa, and she was back from her cookie deliveries. A few moments later the swinging restaurant-style door between the kitchen and the coffee shop opened and Lisa came in.
“The tree looks beautiful!” she exclaimed, walking closer to take a look. “I can’t believe those shellacked cookie ornaments I made two years ago have lasted this long.”
“Why wouldn’t they? Shellac is a great preservative. Did you know that people used to believe it was made from the wings of an insect found in India?”
Lisa shook her head. “But it’s not?”
“That’s right. It’s actually harvested from the secretions of the female insects and it’s scraped from the bark of trees.”
“Okay. I guess that’s a little better.”
“Not always. Sometimes they scoop up the insect along with the bark.”
“Yuck! I wish you hadn’t told me.”
“Sorry about that. It is kind of unappetizing. Did you finish the deliveries?”
“They’re all done, except for Mr. Jaeger. I’m going to drop those off on my way home.” Lisa sat down next to Hannah and took a sip of the coffee she’d carried in with her. “I ran into Herb, and he drove me around. It’s really cold out there, and his patrol car was nice and warm.”
Hannah smiled. Lisa still had stars in her eyes when she talked about her husband of ten months. As Lisa’s father and Herb’s mother were fond of saying, they were perfect for each other.
“We got a chance to talk between deliveries,” Lisa went on, “and Herb said Mayor Bascomb had to take Mrs. Bascomb to the emergency room at the hospital last night.”
“That doesn’t sound good.” Hannah noticed that Lisa was still referring to her elders by their formal names, just as she’d done as a child. Old habits died hard in Lake Eden. “What’s wrong with Stephanie, do you know?”
“Doc Knight diagnosed her with a bad case of the flu and he’s keeping her in the hospital. He was really upset because she didn’t show up to get her flu shot at the clinic, especially when he sent her a reminder and everything.”
“Why didn’t she get the shot?”
Lisa glanced around and leaned a bit closer even though there were no customers to overhear their conversation. “The reminder said that the shot was available for anyone over forty-five.”
“And she didn’t want to be seen at the clinic because that would be admitting she was over forty-five?”
“That’s what Herb thinks, and he’s almost always right.”
“Vanity, thy name is Stephanie Bascomb,” Hannah said, borrowing heavily from the Bard. “She’s going to be all right, isn’t she?”
“She should be. Doc’s keeping her in the hospital for the rest of the week just to make sure she eats right and gets plenty of rest. And that’s why I’m losing my husband until the weekend.”
Hannah gave a little shake of her head. “What did you say?”
“I said that’s why I’m losing Herb for the rest of the week. Since Mrs. Bascomb won’t be home, the mayor’s taking this opportunity to move his ice fishing house up to Mille Lacs Lake. He asked Herb to come along to help him. They’re leaving tonight at midnight when there’s less traffic, and once they put it out on the ice, they’re going to stay and fish for a couple of days.”
“I didn’t know Herb liked ice fishing.”
“He doesn’t, not particularly, but it’s the politic thing to do. Besides, Mayor Bascomb’s ice fishing house is the fanciest one around. If he doesn’t feel like fishing, he can watch television or play pool.”
Hannah remembered her one and only tour of the mayor’s ice fishing house. She’d driven across the ice to deliver coffee and cookies to the fishing contestants at Lake Eden’s Winter Carnival. The mayor’s ice fishing house had been luxurious, but the fancy lavish furnishings had been completely overshadowed by the grim discovery they’d made.
“I promised Herb I’d make him some Pork and Beans Bread before he left. It’s his favorite and he thinks Mayor Bascomb will like it, too.”
“Pork and Beans Bread?”
“It’s Patsy’s recipe. She got it last month when she went to California to visit a friend. They stopped in Paso Robles at a place called Vic’s Café and ordered it off the menu.”
“How did she get the recipe?”
Lisa gave a little laugh. “You know Patsy. She’s not exactly shy.”
“That’s true.” Hannah smiled. Patsy was Marge Beeseman’s sister, and Lisa’s new mother-in-law wasn’t exactly shy either. “So Patsy asked for the recipe?”
“That’s right in a roundabout way. Patsy talked to the owner, Jan, and explained that they were trying to make sure Dad gets enough complex carbohydrates. Lately all he’s wanted is toast for breakfast, and Pork and Beans Bread