Key Lime Pie Murder (8 page)

After one glance at the time, which was subtly displayed at the lower right-hand corner of the screen, Hannah clicked off the television with the remote control. It was almost four-thirty in the morning. Since she always set her alarm clock, the one in her bedroom, to go off at a quarter to five, it seemed silly to go to bed for fifteen minutes and count the seconds she had left before it was really time to get up.

A compelling scent wafted in from the kitchen to help Hannah make up her mind. The timer on her coffee pot had activated, and her morning brew was ready.

“Coffee,” she pronounced in a voice that was midway between a groan and a prayer. She needed caffeine, and she needed it fast, before the specter of another hot, muggy day would drive her to turn on the window air conditioner the former owners had installed in the bedroom and sleep until the unseasonable June heat wave headed east, or west, or anywhere far away from Lake Eden, Minnesota.

Hannah stood up and shivered slightly. She’d fallen asleep in her favorite summer sleep outfit, an extra-long, extra-large tank top in such an eye-popping shade of magenta that she hoped Moishe’s vet, Dr. Hagaman, was right and cats truly were colorblind. Not only was her sleepwear the wrong color choice for anyone with red hair, it was plastered to her skin in a manner her mother might call decidedly unladylike.

“Okay, I’m up,” Hannah declared to the orange and white tomcat who still wore the scars of his former life on the streets. She tugged her tank top back into place, got to her feet with what she thought was a minimum of groaning, and headed off to the kitchen. “Just let me pour a mug of Swedish Plasma and then I’ll get your breakfast.”

But Moishe didn’t follow her into the kitchen as he usually did. He didn’t even move from the back of the couch where he’d perched. And then everything came back in a rush of memory, and Hannah recalled why she’d been sleeping on the couch. She was worried about Moishe. He wasn’t eating. And she’d wanted to wake up and take note if she heard him crunching his food in the middle of the night.

Hannah had just poured her first, life-giving mug of coffee when she heard a voice that seemed to be coming from inside her condo.

“Is Moishe okay?” the voice asked.

Even in her sleep-deprived state, Hannah recognized that voice. It was Michelle, and she was staying in the guest room.

“Don’t know yet. Want coffee?” she managed to say, anything other than Pidgin English eluding her.

“I’ll get it. Just sit there and drink yours. Do you know your eyes aren’t open all the way?”

“No.”

“What time did Norman leave?”

“No numbers.” Hannah took a giant swig of coffee and felt it burn all the way down. It was worth it if it lifted the curtain of fog from her mind. “Never good at math in the morning.”

“I’m sorry I asked. Take another sip of your coffee. I won’t bother you again until you finish that mug.”

Hannah finished her coffee in several large, near-scalding swallows and held out her mug for more. By the time Michelle had set it on the table in front of her, the mists of sleep were starting to depart and she had glimpses of clarity. “Okay,” she said, giving her youngest sister a little smile, mostly because Michelle’s sleep outfit, a green cotton nightgown with miniature cows grazing all over it, was even more ridiculous than hers. “What did you ask me before?”

“I asked if Moishe was all right.”

“I’m not sure. I think I heard him eating something in the middle of the night, but that could have been wishful thinking.”

Michelle set her own mug down on the table and walked to Moishe’s food bowl. “How full was it last night?”

“It was up to the brim. It was even mounded a bit in the middle. I wanted him to have plenty if he got hungry and wanted a midnight snack.”

“Well, it’s not mounded on top anymore.”

“Really?” That information got Hannah out of her chair to join her sister at the food bowl. “You’re right. He definitely ate some kitty crunchies.”

“So you can stop worrying?” Michelle followed Hannah back to the table and sat down across from her.

“I’m not sure. He didn’t eat very much. He usually cleans his bowl during the night and yowls for more in the morning.”

“How about water?”

“He’s drinking. His water dish was full, too. He drank about half, and that’s what he usually drinks.”

“That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“I think so. It’s just not like him to turn down food. You saw what happened when Norman tried to give him fried chicken last night. He loves fried chicken, but last night he just sniffed it and walked away.”

Michelle leaned to the side so that she could see into the living room. “I think you’d better take him to the vet, Hannah. He’s sitting on the back of the couch again, just staring out the window. Maybe it’s just the hot weather and he doesn’t feel like eating much, but you’ll never forgive yourself if it’s something serious and you didn’t have Dr. Bob check him out.”

“You’re right. This is Tuesday, isn’t it?” When Michelle nodded, Hannah glanced at the clock over the table. It was five-fifteen, much too early to call for an appointment. “I’ll take my shower now, and I’ll call Sue at home at six.”

“Isn’t that kind of early?”

“Not really. Tuesday’s their half day and they’re open from seven to noon. That means they’re bound to be up if I call them at home at six. If I can get Moishe in right away at seven, I can run him back here and still get to work by eight-thirty.”

Michelle shook her head. “You can get to work by seven-thirty. I’ve got Mother’s car and I’ll follow you to town. I can bring Moishe back here with me and you can go straight to work.”

It was six-twenty when Hannah pulled up in the parking lot behind the Lake Eden Pet Clinic. When Michelle pulled into an adjoining parking space, Hannah picked up the bag of cookies she’d brought, grabbed Moishe’s leash, and got out of her cookie truck.

“Do you want me to carry something?” Michelle asked.

“All I’ve got is Moishe and the cookies. Moishe would rather walk on his own, and since you haven’t had breakfast yet, I’m not sure I should trust you with the cookies.”

“What kind are they?”

“Walnut-Date Chews.”

Michelle rolled her eyes heavenward. “I remember those! You used to make them for Dad. They taste almost like date nut bread, right?”

“Right.”

“I haven’t had them for so long!” Michelle looked at the bag hungrily. “And dates and nuts are so good for you.”

“They are?” Hannah asked, tugging a bit on the leash to get Moishe moving forward.

“They’re both heart healthy. Dates are especially good for your muscle tone, and walnuts prevent cellulite.”

Hannah’s eyes narrowed. Michelle sounded just a tad too convincing to be believed, and she was a theater arts major. “You just made that up, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I love those cookies. And you haven’t made them in ages. Can I please have one, Hannah?”

“May I. And no, you may not. They’re for Dr. Bob and Sue for letting me bring Moishe in so early.”

“Not even one? They’re my all-time favorite cookies!”

“Absolutely not. But when you get home, there’s a bag just like this on the kitchen counter. You’ll find another two dozen in there.”

Michelle was grinning as Hannah knocked on the back door of the clinic. When she’d called, Sue had answered the phone from the clinic and she’d told Hannah that they always arrived an hour early when they had overnight patients.

“Hi, Hannah,” Sue said, opening the door. She spotted Michelle standing behind Hannah and gave her a friendly smile. “You looked really wonderful last night in the evening gown competition. Bob and I talked about it on the way home, and we’re so glad you won.”

“Thanks,” Michelle said, and Hannah noticed that her sister was blushing slightly. There were big differences between the three Swensen sisters. Andrea knew she was beautiful and took compliments in stride, Michelle didn’t realize how gorgeous she was and was still slightly embarrassed when someone complimented her, and Hannah had looked into the mirror enough times to know that if someone said she was beautiful, they probably wanted something from her. Except for their differing hair colors, Andrea and Michelle had inherited the gene for beauty from Delores. All three of them were petite with lovely features and figures that would not be out of place in a string bikini. Hannah had inherited her looks from her father, who had been tall with curly red hair and the tendency to put on more than a few extra pounds around the middle.

“What’s wrong with Moishe?” Michelle asked, bringing Hannah out of her musing.

Hannah looked down at the cat and began to frown. Moishe’s fur was bristling, his ears were down flat, and he was making a little growling noise in his throat. “I don’t know. He’s never been like this before.”

“Is he afraid of Dr. Bob?”

“No. He doesn’t absolutely love coming here, but he’s always walked right in before.” Hannah gave a little tug on the leash. “Come on, Moishe. Let’s go.”

But Moishe wasn’t going. He dug in his claws and refused to move, stopping dead at the threshold. No amount of coaxing or tugging would budge him, and Hannah was about to pick him up and carry him bodily into the building when Sue stopped her.

“Wait a second, Hannah. I think I know what’s wrong. Moishe’s never come in the back way before. Walk him around the building and I’ll let you in the front.”

“Okay, if you don’t mind. I hate to pick him up when he’s this rattled.”

Michelle slipped inside with Sue. Hannah was amazed to see that the moment the door closed, Moishe’s fur smoothed down and his ears perked up. The low growl he’d been giving subsided as she walked him around the side of the building. Was it possible Sue was right? This was the way they’d entered in the past when he had a regular appointment, and he didn’t seem to mind it at all.

“Here we are,” Hannah said, opening the front door the way she always did. And to her surprise, Moishe marched straight in and rubbed up against Sue’s ankles.

“This is really strange,” Hannah said, puzzled at his behavior.

Sue shook her head. “Not really. Pets are creatures of habit. They feel safe when their routine stays the same. Coming in the back way was a change in routine, and that made Moishe nervous.” She reached down to pet him, and Moishe started to purr. “Take him right in to examining room one, Hannah. Bob’s waiting for you.”

Less than fifteen minutes later, Moishe was in the car with Michelle on their way back to the condo, and Hannah was driving to The Cookie Jar. She was somewhat reassured when Dr. Bob hadn’t found anything wrong in his physical examination. All that remained was the lab work.

Since the patient didn’t speak English and Dr. Bob didn’t speak cat, Hannah had assumed the role of interpreter. Yes, Moishe was eating a bit of food, but much less than usual. And he’d been turning down treats that he loved like tuna, salmon, and fried chicken. No, she hadn’t seen any signs that his stomach was upset. Yes, he was drinking water. Yes, he was using his litter box. And no, she hadn’t switched his food. It was the same brand of kitty crunchies she’d always fed him. Her main concern was his odd behavior. He’d shown very little interest in looking out the windows before, but in the past two days he’d spent hours balancing on windowsills, staring fixedly out at nothing.

Hannah pulled up in her parking space, right next to Lisa’s old car, and hurried to the back door. But before she could reach for the knob, Lisa opened it.

“How’s Moishe?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet. Dr. Bob examined him, and when he couldn’t find anything wrong he took a blood sample.”

“When do you get the results?”

“I’m supposed to call in at noon. He said he should have a fax from the lab by then.” Hannah stepped inside and hung her purse on one of the hooks by the back door. She glanced at the baker’s racks and gave a little groan when she saw that Lisa had baked all the cookies without her. “I’m sorry you got stuck with all the baking. I’ll come in early tomorrow and make it up to you.”

“Don’t be silly. I know you’d do the baking alone if Herb got sick and I had to take him to the doctor.”

Hannah was about to tell her that it wasn’t the same thing, but she reconsidered. Perhaps it was.

“You look beat, Hannah. Sit down and I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”

“Thanks,” Hannah said, sinking down on a stool at the work island. She’d polished off a whole pot of coffee with Michelle, but she’d only gotten four hours of sleep and she could use a little more caffeine.

“Here you go.” Lisa placed a mug of coffee in front of her. “Do you know what Herb calls it?”

“Coffee?”

“No,” Lisa replied with a giggle. “I called it Swedish Plasma this morning, the way you always do, and he said we should call it Vitamin V.”

Hannah sifted through the possibilities in record time, but she couldn’t think of an appropriate word beginning with the letter V. “Okay, I’ll bite. What does the V stand for?”

“Vertical. Herb says it’s the only thing that gets him up on his feet in the morning.”

WALNUT-DATE CHEWS

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

1 cup melted butter (2 sticks, 1/2pound)

3 cups brown sugar (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

4 eggs, beaten (just stir them up in a glass with a fork until they’re a uniform color)

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 Tablespoon (3 teaspoons) vanilla extract

2 cups finely chopped walnuts (measure AFTER chopping)

1 cup chopped dates*

4 cups flour (don’t sift—pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

*
You can buy dates already chopped at the grocery store if you don’t want to chop them yourself.

Melt the butter on HIGH in a microwave-safe container for 90 seconds, or in a small saucepan on the stove over low heat.

Transfer the melted butter to a large mixing bowl and add the brown sugar. Mix it well and let it cool to slightly above room temperature, just enough so that it won’t cook the eggs when you add them!