Читать книгу Plum Pudding Murder - Joanne Fluke - Страница 13

“This hot fudge sauce is incredible!” Norman spooned up the last of his ice cream and gave a satisfied sigh. “It’s the kind of dessert I dream about.”

“Me, too. Would you like another cake? The recipe makes six.”

Norman considered it for a brief moment and then he nodded. “I think I can handle one more.”

Hannah made a quick trip to the kitchen to upend another of the individual cakes on Norman’s dessert plate. She pulled the top apart with two forks, a technique she’d learned from serving soufflés, let the fudge sauce pool in the center of the plate, and then dropped in a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

“You can have a little bit of my ice cream this time,” she heard Norman say. The next sound she heard was a plaintive meow and it was clear he was talking to Moishe.

“This is good with coffee ice cream, too,” she said as she carried the plate into the living room and handed it to Norman. “More coffee?”

“I’d love some. Your coffee is the best…” Norman stopped speaking as the doorbell rang. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“No, and I know it’s not Mother.”

“How do you know that?”

Hannah gestured toward Moishe. “His fur’s not standing on end and it always does when Mother’s at the door.”

“So you don’t know who it is?”

“No, I have no idea.”

“Then you’d better let me get it.”

Hannah bit back a grin as Norman went to the door and looked out the peephole. She lived in a fairly secure complex, burglaries and home invasions were unusual on nights this cold, and she was perfectly capable of grabbing the decorative hand-painted rolling pin that hung by the side of her door and wailing away at anyone who tried to enter her home without her permission.

“Who is it?” Norman called out after squinting through the peephole, and Hannah understood why he had to ask that question. Anyone who stood directly in front of her door was back lighted by the powerful security light on the outside post, plunging the visitor’s features into deep shadows and rendering them totally unrecognizable.

“It’s Mike!” a voice floated through the crack under the door. “Let me in, will you? It’s cold out here.”

Norman chuckled and turned to Hannah. “Shall I let him in?” he asked in an even louder voice that Mike would be sure to hear. “Or shall we keep all the Hot Fudge Sundae Cakes to ourselves?”

There was a moment of silence and then Mike asked, “Did you say Hot Fudge Sundae Cakes!?”

Hannah laughed. “Let him in, Norman. I’ll go dish up another one for him.”

As Hannah turned another helping onto one of the dessert plates Delores had given her for Christmas, she heard Norman greet Mike. Even though both of them were dating her, the two men were friends. Occasionally jealousy reared its head, but they got past it. As long as she steadfastly refused to choose one over the other, the three of them remained friends.

“Thanks for letting me in,” Hannah heard Mike say from the living room.

“I had to let you in. You’re the law.”

“That’s true. So what’s this about Hot Fudge Sundae Cake?”

“It’s like a hot fudge sundae inside of a cake,” Norman explained. “You’re going to love it.”

At that moment Hannah came out of the kitchen with the dessert plate for Mike and two cups of coffee, one for Norman and the other for Mike. “Here you go,” she said, setting the dessert plate and one coffee in front of Mike, and handing Norman his refill. “Go ahead and eat. It’s better if it’s hot.”

Mike dipped his spoon in the pool of sauce and excavated a bit of cake and ice cream. He popped it in his mouth and gave a sound that resembled one of Moishe’s happiest purrs. Then he plunged his spoon down for another bite.

“You like it?” Hannah asked him.

“You bet! Thanks, Hannah. I’ve been running all day and I didn’t have a chance to eat.”

“How about a meatloaf sandwich?” Hannah offered. “It’s leftover meatloaf and I can heat it up like a hamburger on a cheesy biscuit.”

Mike mumbled something that Hannah interpreted as assent and she went back to the kitchen to heat a slice of meatloaf in the microwave. She halved a biscuit, spread it with mayonnaise and dotted the bottom with a few slices of the bread and butter pickles that Lisa had given her. “Ketchup?” she called out.

“Yes, and mustard if you’ve got it,” Mike replied.

As she put on the condiments, Hannah heard Mike’s spoon scrape against the bottom of his dessert plate. She slid on the slice of meatloaf, topped it with the lid of the biscuit, carried in the plate, and exchanged it for Mike’s dessert plate, which was scraped so clean she knew he was half-starved.

“Hi, Big Guy,” Hannah heard him say to Moishe as she carried the dessert plate to the kitchen. “Sure you can have a bite. Hold on a second and I’ll break off some meat for you.”

Perhaps that was what she liked best about both men, Hannah mused as she rinsed off Mike’s plate and slid it into the dishwasher. Norman and Mike were crazy about Moishe, and it was clear that Hannah’s cat felt the same way about them. Perhaps she might have been able to choose between them if Moishe had loved one and hated the other, but that wasn’t the case. And she was left, not at all unhappily, to date them both.

Hannah had just returned to her seat on the couch when the phone rang. She answered and began to frown as she heard her sister Andrea’s panicked voice.

“You’ve just got to help me, Hannah! Bill’s tied up at the station and there’s no way I can do this alone!”

“There’s no way you can do what alone?” Hannah asked, remembering her rule about not promising any favors until she found out what they were. Actually, Andrea was the reason for the rule. When Hannah was a senior in high school and Andrea was in eighth grade, her younger sister had elicited a promise from Hannah to help her out. To Hannah’s chagrin, the “help” turned out to be attending a rock concert with Andrea and five of her classmates. Hannah had suffered through two and a half hours of screaming teenage girls, amplification so loud it threatened to deafen her, and alternative rock so atonal and nonmusical, she could have been listening to audiotapes of multicar crashes on the interstate.

“I have to get a Christmas tree by tomorrow morning. Tracey forgot to tell me until I tucked her in bed, but her teacher asked for a volunteer to choose the tree for their classroom, and Tracey volunteered me.”

“Welcome to the world of parenting,” Hannah said, chuckling slightly. “Relax, Andrea. I’ll go with you pick out a Christmas tree for Tracey’s classroom.”

“Thanks, Hannah! I knew I could count on you.”

“That’s what big sisters are for. Shall I pick you up tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow. It’s got to be tonight.” Andrea sounded very definite. “I have to deliver it when school starts tomorrow. The kids are going to have a tree trimming party and it needs time to spread out its branches.”

“But where can you buy a Christmas tree at nine o’clock at night?”

“The Crazy Elf Christmas Tree Lot,” Mike said, not even pretending he hadn’t been listening to Hannah’s end of the conversation.

“It’s open until eleven tonight and that gives us plenty of time,” Norman added.

“Us?” Hannah turned to him in surprise.

“Yes, us,” Mike replied for both of them. “Norman and I’ll go with you. Picking out a tree is men’s work. You’d probably get some silly pink froufrou flocked thing that would embarrass Tracey in front of her class.”

Hannah considered taking umbrage at Mike’s slur on her judgment, but she was more amused than offended. It was a well-known fact that Andrea was fond of flocked trees, and Hannah had heard her admire the pink tree in Doug Greerson’s bank window more than once this year. It would be considerably easier to keep Andrea from flocking if three out of four of them were non-flockers.

“Good,” Hannah smiled at both of them. “I’ve been meaning to get out there. I don’t put up a tree. My place is too small and I’m not here enough to enjoy it. But I hear Larry Jaeger did an incredible job creating a Christmas theme park and I really want to see it.”

“He sells your cookies, doesn’t he?” Norman asked.

“That’s right. I’d like to talk to him about that, too. Somebody told me he’s selling out near the end of the night. If that’s true, he might want to increase his daily order.”

Norman winked at Mike. “That business course she sat in on tonight at the community college must have given her ideas.”

Hannah was about to deny it when a voice spoke directly in her ear. “Did I hear Mike and Norman?” Andrea asked, pulling her back into the telephone conversation.

“Yes, and they’re both coming along to help. Let’s meet in the parking lot at The Crazy Elf at ten o’clock. Is that okay?”

“That’s perfect. It gives me time to go up to the attic and dig out our old Christmas tree stand. Tracey wasn’t sure if they had one, or not.”

“Okay, see you then,” Hannah said. She hung up the phone and turned to Mike and Norman. “We should leave here in ten minutes. Does anyone want another cup of coffee for the road?”

Of course the answer was yes on all counts, and Hannah went into the kitchen to put on a fresh pot of coffee. Even though she’d had a long day and she was tired, she was looking forward to visiting Larry’s Crazy Elf Christmas Tree Lot.