side up.
Preheat a frying pan on the stove. Using a spatula, place your sandwich in the pan. Fry it uncovered until the bottom turns golden brown. (You can test it by lifting it up just a bit with the spatula.) Flip the sandwich over and fry the other side until it's golden brown. Remove the sandwich from the frying pan, cut it into four pieces with a sharp knife, arrange it on a plate, and serve it immediately.
This sandwich goes well with piping-hot mugs of tomato soup.
You can turn this into a dessert sandwich by using slices of banana or date-nut bread and sprinkling the sandwich with a little powdered sugar. If you really want to go whole hog, top it with a scoop of ice cream. It's delicious that way.
-19- Six o'clock came much too early and Hannah crawled out of the warm comfort of her bed reluctantly. It seemed as though just minutes had passed since she'd taken Norman to the scene of his assault to pick up his car and followed him home to make sure he got there safely. She'd idled outside the house for a few minutes, but no lights had gone on in Carrie's bedroom. When Hannah had been fairly certain that Norman wouldn't be required to deal with a hysterical mother in the middle of the night, she'd driven back to her condo and fallen into her bed for the hours of sleep that were left to her.
Hannah gazed around her, blinking in the glare from the lamp on her bed table. Moishe wasn't there. He'd probably crawled in with Janie in the wee hours of the morning. Even though she knew she was being silly, his defection disturbed her. Moishe was a male, and all the important males in her life had .deserted her in one way or another. Mike had turned cool and coplike. It wasn't surprising, considering that he was in charge of a murder investigation, but she missed the good-natured banter they'd enjoyed in the past. And Norman was just as bad. He'd told her he wasn't jealous of the time she'd spent with Mike, and now he'd had the nerve to suggest that he use himself as bait in a trap for the killer without a second thought for her feelings. Then there was Moishe. She'd taken him in, fed him the best cat food that money could buy, and taken him to the vet for his shots. And how did he repay her kind generosity? He'd left her bed in the middle of the night and deserted her for a younger woman!
Her slippers were right where she'd left them, and Hannah pulled them on. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn't seem to help it. Moishe had been waiting for her in her bed when she'd arrived home last night, and he'd let her cuddle him for much longer than usual. He'd even purred and licked her cheek with his raspy tongue. He loved her; Hannah knew he did, and that was more than she could say for either Norman or Mike. She was in a bad mood this morning because she was tired, and she had to shake it off.
Once Hannah had showered, she felt much better. Ten minutes under a steaming spray had loosened her cramped muscles and erased some of the fog from her brain. She dressed in a pair of jeans, pulled on the alternate Winter Carnival sweatshirt she'd bought, and slipped her feet back into the old pair of dorm slippers she wore around the house. Then she padded down the hallway toward the kitchen. She had a lot to do, and if she didn't get a move on, she'd fall behind schedule. Today would be a prime example of 'hurry up and get there so you can rush as fast as you can.' That was a smidgeon better on the frustration scale than 'hurry up and get there so you can wait,' but not much. Somehow, she had to get energized, and a strong cup of coffee was the only cure for her case of drooping eyelids.
'Morning, Hannah,' Janie greeted her. She was standing at Hannah's stove, flipping something in a frying pan. 'Don't try to talk. Just sit down at the table and I'll bring you a mug of coffee.'
Hannah sank down in a chair. It was much more comfortable than she'd remembered, and she resisted the urge to put her head down on her folded arms and snooze.
'Drink this;' Janie ordered, plunking a mug of coffee down in front of Hannah's nose. 'It'll help.'
Hannah inhaled the strong fragrance and took one huge gulp. The coffee was hot but not scalding, and she realized that Janie must have poured it when she'd heard her getting dressed. After she'd drained the cup and held it put for a refill, her eyes opened all the way and she smiled at Janie. 'Thanks. I'm beginning to feel halfway human.'
'Good. Now all we have to do is work on that other half. I take it Norman got home okay?'
'He should be fine. I stuck around for a few minutes to make sure his mother didn't wake up. What are you doing out here so early?'
'Moishe got me up. I think he was sorry he'd made such a mess.'
'What mess?'
'He got into the cabinet where you keep the cat food. I swept it up and filled his bowl.'
Hannah's gaze turned from Moishe, who was happily chowing down at his food bowl, to the broom closet door. It was locked up tight, and she knew she'd left it that way. 'What happened?'
'He learned how to open the lock.' Janie walked over to the door and pointed. 'I think he jumped up on the top of the refrigerator and batted at the hook until it popped out.'
'That figures,' Hannah said, giving Moishe a baleful look. He stared back at her with wide yellow eyes, and he didn't look at all guilty. 'What are you cooking?'
'French toast. Are you getting hungry yet?'
'You bet. It smells wonderful. Are you sure you don't want to move in permanently?'
'I'll think about it.' Janie laughed and flipped the French toast out onto a plate. 'I got the recipe from Helen, Connie Mac's cook.'
'The Cooking Sweetheart had a cook?'
'Oh, yes. She got her best recipes from Helen. The Winter Carnival cake was Helen's recipe, and she made the original one.'
Hannah remembered Connie Mac's conversation with Edna and how she'd claimed she stayed up most of the night to decorate the cake. It seemed that Connie Mac had been a fake as well as a nasty person. 'How about the replacement you were baking?'
'I was supposed to bake all the layers. Mrs. MacIntyre thought that I could handle that. And when I was through, she was going to call Helen and have her drive to Lake Eden to decorate it.'
Hannah took another gulp of her coffee. This could be very important, especially if Helen had hated Connie Mac as much as the other people who'd worked for her. 'Do you know if Connie Mac called Helen?'
'She didn't. I told Bill and Mike about it and they checked.' Janie carried the plate to Hannah, went back for butter and maple syrup, and sat down in the opposite chair. 'I brought in the paper. Do you want the front section?'
'No, give me the comics. I can't handle hard news until I've had at least one pot of coffee. You read it and tell me if there's anything interesting.'
The French toast was delicious, light and fluffy with a mouthwatering hint of cinnamon and nutmeg. Hannah finished it in record time and got up to get refills on their coffee. She was just pouring some for Janie when she heard her gasp.
'What is it?' Hannah set the coffee pot down on the table.
'Larry Kruger wrote another ghost story. He's speculating that Ezekiel Jordan's ghost is the one who bashed Norman on the head.'
'You're kidding!' Hannah started to .laugh. 'I guess he doesn't know that Norman's family moved here from out of state. It's pretty unlikely that Norman could be related to anybody in F. E. Laughlin's poker game.'
'Larry's got that base covered. He claims that Ezekiel's ghost was upset over the fact that Norman was taking pictures in your mother's re-creation of his house. It seems that Ezekiel Jordan was a spiritualist and he believed that a camera could steal a man's soul. He refused to pose for pictures or allow any member of his family to be photographed. According to Larry, that's why there aren't any pictures of him. Ezekiel wouldn't allow a camera anywhere inside his house.'
'Larry's nothing if not enterprising,' Hannah commented. 'Does he think that Ezekiel's ghost hit Norman over the head to keep him from taking more portraits?'
'That's what he says. And a lot of people seem to be taking it seriously. Here's a story about another ghost sighting out at the inn last night.'
'What time?' Hannah asked.
'At a quarter to ten.'
'Then Ezekiel's ghost can be in two places at once. Norman told me that he was bashed on the head at nine forty-five.'
