lifted her head from her pillow until nine. The fact that she'd arrived at The Cookie Jar at six-thirty was tangible proof of her sisterly devotion.
The two sisters walked past the neatly set tables and headed straight for the inn's large industrial kitchen. As they pushed through the swinging door, Hannah started to smile. Sally's kitchen was her favorite place at the inn, combining modern stainless-steel restaurant equipment with homey touches that were Sally's alone.
The floor was tile, a must for a restaurant because the health code required that it be kept spotless. But instead of the solid-color ones that most restaurateurs used. Sally had installed designer tile that simulated an old- fashioned multi-colored braided rug. The areas that weren't covered by the oval-shaped rug design were formulated to look like one you might find in an unusually large farmhouse kitchen.
The long wall that Sally's kitchen shared with the dining room had a window that ran from the stainless-steel counter all the way up to the ceiling. This meant that Sally's kitchen staff was always on display, and they were dressed to take full advantage of that. The women wore frilly caps that satisfied the health department's requirement for head covering and were patterned to match their bib aprons. The men were also on display in colored chef's coats and matching toques. The color scheme changed every day, and today's theme was green.
'There's Sally,' Hannah said, directing her sister's attention to the far wall, where Sally was removing a tray of freshly baked popovers from the oven.
Andrea nodded and her face lit up in a smile. 'Popovers! Sally makes the best popovers in the world!'
'I heard that.' Sally looked pleased as she walked to a clear space at the long stainless-steel counter and tipped the popovers out in a napkin-lined basket. 'Pull up a stool and have one while they're hot.'
'Do you have time to join us?' Hannah asked.
'They can get along without me for a few minutes.' Sally passed the basket of popovers to Andrea and set out a tub of butter and a jar of apricot jam. 'What took you so long? I thought you two would be out here an hour ago.'
'You know?' Hannah was surprised. The sheriff's department never released the news of a murder until after the family had been notified.
'Of course I know. I was listening to KCOW radio in the kitchen and it was the lead story at five-thirty.'
'Five-thirty?' Hannah was astonished. She hadn't found Connie Mac's body until ten to six. 'But . . . that's impossible!'
'You know that, and I know that, but you'd be surprised how many people actually believe in them.'
'Time out.' Andrea held up her hands. 'It's obvious that you and Hannah are talking about two different things. You first, Sally.'
'Okay. At five-thirty this morning, Jake and Kelly announced that Ezekiel Jordan's ghost was haunting the halls of the Lake Eden Inn, looking for revenge.'
'Revenge for what?' Hannah asked the obvious question.
'For losing his prized rosewood desk in one of F. E. Laughlin's poker games. You see . . . '
'Wait a second, Sally,' Andrea interrupted. 'Is that the same desk Mother has in her re-creation?'
Sally nodded. 'Ezekiel and Dick's great-great-grandfather were contemporaries a hundred years ago. When Dick and I found the desk up in the attic, we assumed that F. E. bought it after Ezekiel died, but Francine uncovered the story about the poker game.'
'Your stepmother's still here?' Hannah asked. She'd met Francine at Sally and Dick's Christmas party. Francine had planned to stay for a couple of weeks to help out with the new baby, but little Danny was almost two months old.
'Everything worked out so well, Dick and I invited Francine to spend the winter with us when she's not baby- sitting with Danny, she's researching Dick's family for him on the Internet. That's how she found out about the poker game and Ezekiel's desk. Do you want the long story or the short story?'
'The long story.' Hannah jumped in before Andrea could open her mouth. 'Tell us about the poker game.'
'It happened almost exactly a hundred years ago. F. E. and his cronies came out here to do a little ice fishing and hunting. They always played poker on Saturday nights and they invited some of the notables in town to drive out and get in the game. Ezekiel Jordan came out to play, but he wasn't a very good poker player and he ran out of money early.'
'So he bet his desk?' Andrea looked shocked.
'That's right. Francine found the slip of paper he tossed in the pot with a bunch of F. E.'s other papers.'
'Go on,' Hannah urged her.
'F. E. won the pot, and the very next, Ezekiel loaded up his desk and hauled it out here. On his way home, a winter storm blew up and Ezekiel caught a bad chill. If you know your Lake Eden history, you can guess what happened next.'
Hannah thought about it for a moment and then she nodded. 'Ezekiel died of a lung ailment, didn't he?'
'That's right, three days after his trip out here. He blamed F. E. because he got sick, and he told everyone in town that the poker game was rigged.'
'Was it?' Andrea wanted to know.
'I don't know,' Sally shrugged, 'but it's certainly possible, especially if F. E. wanted that desk bad enough. He could be ruthless.'
'So what happened next?' Hannah did her best to get them back on track.
'Ezekiel swore on his deathbed that he'd come back for his desk and take revenge on everyone who played in that poker game.'
'Okay.' Hannah nodded. 'But that all happened a hundred years ago. Why is KCOW saying that Ezekiel's ghost is here now?'
Sally started to grin. 'Francine mentioned it to one of the reporters that's staying out here for the Winter Carnival. He must have called the radio station and told them about it.'
'But why did Francine tell the reporter about it?'
Sally poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down next to Hannah and Andrea. 'Do you want the long story on that? Or the short story?'
'The short story,' Hannah said, even though she suspected it would be the same length as the long story.
'Yesterday morning Francine met the reporter in the hall. He said he woke up in the middle of the night, looked out his window, and saw somebody walking around outside. Francine told him he must have seen Ezekiel Jordan's ghost coming back for his desk. Francine was just kidding around with him, but he must have taken her seriously. And now everybody's going to think our inn has a ghost. In a way, I'm glad Dick's gone. He'd be worried about how it would affect our business.'
'Dick's away?' Hannah was surprised. Sally hadn't said anything about it when Hannah had called her last week.
'He had to leave for Arizona on Sunday. His mother was going to wait until summer to have her hip fixed, but the doctors wanted to do it now. I told Dick that I could handle everything, but I didn't count on the ghost story. I just hope all our guests don't check out.'
'They won't,' Andrea said and she sounded very confident. 'People who don't believe in ghosts will ignore it. And the believers will stay right here, hoping for a sighting. It's a win-win situation, Sally. Ghosts sell.'
'They do?'
Andrea nodded. 'Remember the old Walker place? It was on the market for a solid year with no offers. Then someone started a story about how it was haunted by Beulah Walker's ghost and it sold for over asking price.'
Hannah turned to give her sister a searching look. 'You didn't!'
'No. But I might have, if I'd thought of it.'
Sally got the coffee pot and poured them all a second cup. I'll be right back. I just need to sell them to start setting out the buffet.'
Hannah watched as Sally walked over to an attractive dark-haired woman in her late forties. They spoke for a moment and then the woman began to direct the rest of Sally's kitchen staff as they loaded dishes on rolling carts and prepared to wheel out the buffet.
As the feast on wheels started to move past them, Hannah saw Andrea reach out to snatch a glazed doughnut. 'You had three of Sally's popovers and you're still hungry?'
