Blueberry Muffin Murder. Joanne Fluke
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“I need to give Janie some last-minute instructions and then I’m out of your hair.” When Connie Mac nodded, Hannah gave Janie’s arm a comforting squeeze and drew her away to the far end of the kitchen. She’d seen enough of Connie Mac to know that it couldn’t be pleasant to work for her. “Okay, Janie. When you’re all through, leave by the back door. Just push in the button to lock it behind you.”
“Don’t worry, Hannah. I’ll test it to make sure it’s locked.”
“Thanks. Goodnight, Janie.” Hannah shrugged into her parka and headed back to Norman, deliberately ignoring Connie Mac. When she got to the door she turned again, almost tripping Norman, who was close on her heels. “One more thing. I baked Blue Blueberry Muffins this afternoon and they’re in the pantry.”
“The same muffins you used to bake when I stayed overnight with Andrea?”
“That’s right. Just help yourself if you get hungry.”
“Janie can’t eat sweets,” Connie Mac warned, giving Janie a stern look. “She has to lose at least twenty pounds before we start taping for next season.”
A dull flush rose in Janie’s cheeks. Connie Mac had embarrassed her, and Hannah had the urge to throttle the Cooking Sweetheart. Janie had always been full-figured, even in high school. And while it was true that she was far from model-thin, she wore clothes that flattered her figure and she was extremely attractive. “Why does Janie need to lose weight? She looks great.”
Connie Mac turned to Hannah with a frown. It was clear she wasn’t used to being contradicted. “I realize that Janie is your friend, but facts are facts and she’s just too heavy. If my assistant is overweight, my viewers will assume that my recipes are fattening. That could reduce sales of my videos and cookbooks.”
Hannah was stunned speechless for a moment. She opened her mouth, prepared to give Connie Mac a well-deserved piece of her mind, when Norman grabbed her arm.
“Come on, Hannah,” he whispered. “Anything you say will only make it worse for Janie.”
Hannah didn’t like it, but she realized that Norman was right and she let him open the door and pull her through. “Goodnight, Janie,” she called out as Norman closed the door behind them.
“It’s a good thing we left,” Norman muttered, taking a deep breath of the freezing air. “I was ready to kill that woman!”
“You’re second in line behind me,” Hannah shot back.
“Because she made Janie rearrange your kitchen?”
“That’s only half of it. She implied that Janie was fat! You don’t think she is, do you?”
Norman shook his head. “Janie’s big, but she’s not fat. And she’d look great on camera. That excuse Connie Mac gave about how Janie could hurt her sales is a crock. Julia Child didn’t look thin on any of her cooking shows, and her cookbooks were bestsellers.”
“That’s right,” Hannah said, wishing she’d thought of that in time to tell Connie Mac. Then she remembered what Norman had said as they walked out the door, and she turned to him with a question. “You said you wanted to kill Connie Mac. What did she do to you?”
“What are you doing for the next eight hours? If I tell you everything, it’ll take all night.”
Hannah laughed. “Maybe you’d better give me the abbreviated version.”
“Connie Mac was an hour late for her appointment with me. Janie apologized, but Connie Mac didn’t say a word. And then Connie Mac ordered me to take her portrait in the dining room and I was all set up in the parlor.”
“So you had to move all your equipment?”
“Oh, yes. Six times. She kept changing her mind. And then, when we were finally finished and I’d already packed up all my camera gear, she decided she needed one more series of shots sitting behind the first mayor’s desk.”
Hannah frowned. Ezekiel’s desk was a valuable antique and Delores had secured the area around it with museum-style velvet ropes. “Mother didn’t let her do it, did she?”
“Of course she did. Connie Mac sweet-talked her right into it.”
“Really!” Hannah was surprised. She’d thought that Delores would be the one person in town that Connie Mac couldn’t sway. “So how long did this photo session take?”
“An hour and a half, and it seemed like months. By the time we finished, I was ready to bash her head in with one of Mrs. Jordan’s rolling pins.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t. It might have hurt the rolling pin.” Hannah smiled up at him and reached out to take his arm. Norman covered her gloved hand with his and they crunched through the snow together on the way to their cars.
“I haven’t seen you for a while,” Norman said, escorting her to the driver’s side of her truck. “I’ve missed you, Hannah.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“How about some dinner? We could drive out to the inn. At least we know she won’t be there.”
“True, but I’d probably fall asleep with my head in the soup,” Hannah said, stifling a yawn. Today had been a full day, and the strain of being pleasant to Connie Mac and baking ten times as many cookies as usual had taken its toll.
“Do you have another date?”
“No way. I’d really like to have dinner with you, Norman, but I’m just too tired. Can I take a rain check?”
“Sure, but you still have to eat. Do you want to stop by the Corner Tavern? That would be quicker.”
“Not tonight. I just want to go home and crawl into bed with a glass of wine and a toasted sardine sandwich.”
Norman made a face. “That doesn’t sound very nutritious.”
“It’s not as bad as you think. Sardines are protein, and I always use the ones in ketchup sauce. That takes care of the vegetable. And the buttered toast provides the fat and the carbohydrates. It’s a very well-balanced sandwich, if you think about it.”
“I’d rather not.” Norman unplugged her electrical cord, wound it around Hannah’s bumper, and opened the door of her truck for her. As she slid into the driver’s seat, he said, “Hannah?”
“Yes, Norman.”
“Let’s try to get together more often, okay?”
“Sounds good to me,” Hannah said, reaching for her seat belt and buckling it.
“I was thinking about it last night and I realized that I was cutting off my nose to spite my face.”
“What do you mean?” Hannah asked.
“Whenever our mothers start trying to push us together, I rebel like a teenager.”
“So