painful scratches.
“Would you like some wine, Norman? I’ve got a bottle open.” Hannah winced slightly as she remembered that all she had was the green gallon jug of Chateau Screwtop she’d bought at CostMart.
“No thanks. I’ll just take a diet soft drink, if you’ve got it. Or water, if you don’t.”
Hannah grinned. Most Minnesotans didn’t use the phrase, “soft drink”. Although Norman had grown up in Minnesota, he’d lived in Seattle long enough to pick up that expression.
“What did I say to make you grin?” Norman asked.
“Soft drink. Everybody in Lake Eden calls it pop. You’re in luck, Norman. I just stocked up for the holidays and I’ve got Coke, Diet Coke, root beer, red cream soda, or 7-Up.”
“Red cream soda?” Norman started to smile. “I haven’t had that since I was a kid. Where did you find it?”
“CostMart. I bought all they had left. The manager told me they got a partial shipment from some bottling plant in the South. It’s not diet, though.”
“That’s okay. I’ll take one anyway.”
Hannah was smiling as she went into the kitchen to get Norman’s drink. She’d wanted to buy him a small Christmas present, and a case of red cream soda would be perfect. She slipped the cap from the soft drink that looked like strawberry soda but wasn’t and poured it out into one of her best glasses. After she’d filled her wineglass from the green jug that was labeled “White Table Wine,” she carried both drinks out to the living room.
Norman was sitting on the couch holding Moishe. Hannah’s pet was still purring and had a blissful expression on his face. Moishe liked Mike, but he adored Norman. As she settled herself on the other end of the couch, Hannah wondered if her pet knew something that she didn’t know.
“Have an Oatmeal Raisin Crisp.” Hannah gestured toward the napkin-lined basket she’d set out on the coffee table, filled with some of her “safe” cookies. Moishe didn’t like raisins, and that made them cat-proof.
“Thanks.” Norman reached for a cookie and took a bite. “These are my favorites.”
Hannah laughed. “That’s what you said about the Chocolate Chip Crunches. They can’t all be your favorites.”
“Yes, they can. Your cookies are so good that whatever I’m eating is my favorite at the time.” Norman stopped and frowned. “Did that make sense?”
“It did to me,” Hannah said with a grin. It always made her feel good when someone complimented her on her cookies.
“I like your fireplace,” Norman commented. “It looks almost real.”
“I like it, too. It provides a lot of heat, and I never have to lay in a supply of firewood. Andrea and Bill have a real one, and he always worries if the fire’s still burning when they go up to bed.”
“That’s why I want a fireplace in the bedroom. You could put on a couple of log before you went to bed and it would keep the room nice and warm. It’d be romantic, too.”
Hannah had always thought a fireplace in the bedroom would be romantic, but she’d never heard anyone else say so before. “You’re right, Norman. I don’t know why more people don’t have them.”
“I guess it’s because most people don’t design their own houses. They buy a house that already exists, or they hire an architect who designs the whole thing. Maybe I should get one of those architectural programs for my computer and try my hand at designing the perfect house.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“If I get the program, would you like to help me? I don’t know anything about kitchen and things like that. I’d probably forget to leave room for the dishwasher or the oven.”
“Ovens,” Hannah corrected him. “If you plan to do a lot of entertaining, you’ll need two. A thanksgiving turkey fills the whole oven. You need a second oven for the side dishes.”
Norman laughed. “See what I mean? I never would have thought of that. It’s pretty obvious I need you, Hannah. We’ll work on it together and design our dream house.”
Hannah began to feel uncomfortable. Designing a dream house with a man she’d only dated three times was pretty serious stuff.
“If it turns out all right, we can enter our plans in the dream house contest they’re running at the Minneapolis paper. First prize is five thousand dollars, and we can split it. How about it, Hannah? Do you want to take a crack at it?”
“Sure.” Hannah smiled in relief. Norman wasn’t proposing anything more than entering a contest, and that would be fun. “You get the program, and I’ll think about the perfect kitchen.”
They were silent for a moment, watching the flames dance up from the holes in the gas log. It wasn’t romantic, but it was cozy. Hannah was reluctant to break the mood by asking Norman about his patient, but she had to find out who’d left that scarf in his office.
“Norman?”
“Yes, Hannah?”
“I’d rather just sit here watching the fire with you, but I need to ask you a question.”
“Okay. What is it?”
“It’s about your first patient on Tuesday morning, not Luanne Hanks, but the one you didn’t write down in your appointment book. Who was she?”
Norman sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out about that. Do you really need to know, Hannah? Or are you just curious?”
“I really need to know. Maybe I don’t need to know her name, but I have to find out if you pulled any of her teeth.”
Norman looked puzzled. “Why do you have to know that?”
“Because a woman called Boyd Watson at noon on Tuesday and was slurring her words. It really upset him, and it might have something to do with why he was killed. Andrea and I think she might have come from your office with a mouthful of cotton wadding.”
Norman sighed again, and Hannah could tell that he was reluctant to answer. It took him a minute, but then he said, “Okay, Hannah. I extracted two teeth in the upper right quadrant. When she left my office at seven forty- five, I told her to keep the packing in until one.”
“Was she slurring her words?”
“Yes.”
Hannah took a deep breath. “Then I really need to know who she is, Norman. She’s got to be the woman who called Boyd.”
“It was Lucy Richards.”
“Lucy? Why didn’t you write down her name?”
“Because I’m doing her caps off the books. It’s a favor for a favor.”
Norman looked extremely ill at ease, and Hannah knew that there was a lot he wasn’t telling her. Was Delores right about Lucy and Norman? Was he doing a favor for the woman he favored?
“There’s nothing wrong with that, Norman.” Hannah smiled in an attempt to put him at ease. “I know it’s none of my business, but are you… uh… attracted to Lucy?”
Norman just stared at her for a moment, then he shook his head so hard, Hannah was afraid his brains would scramble. “No! Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Just a wild guess.” Hannah wasn’t about to mention either Norman’s mother or hers. “So you’re doing a favor for Lucy by giving her some free dental work. What favor is Lucy doing for you?”
For a long tense moment, Hannah didn’t think Norman was going to answer. Then he sighed, and said, “She discovered something about me, Hannah, an incident that happened when I was living in Seattle. I do her caps and she agrees not to publish her story. It’s simple, really.”
“It’s blackmail, really.”
“Actually, it’s extortion,” Norman corrected her, “but I have to go along with it. She’s got me over a barrel.”
“Is what Lucy knows really that bad?” The question slipped out before Hannah had time to think about it, and she wished she hadn’t asked. It was really none of her business.
“It’s bad enough. It wouldn’t completely destroy my life if it got out, but the people in Lake Eden would never
