Apple Turnover Murder

“Nothing important. Michelle knows one of Bradford’s research assistants, so she’s going to talk to him to see if he knows anything. How about you?”

“I talked to a couple of people who’d been at the luncheon on Wednesday afternoon. One of them said she saw Professor Ramsey getting into Samantha Summerfield’s car right after the luncheon was over.”

“Really?”

“I checked it out and her driver said he took them to Professor Ramsey’s apartment building. Then he waited in the parking lot for them to come out.”

Hannah didn’t ask. She just stared at Mike knowingly.

“Ten minutes,” Mike answered her unspoken question.

“Ten minutes?”

“That’s right. And when Miss Summerfield got back to the car, she wasn’t happy.”

“The driver could tell?”

“Anyone in the vicinity could tell. When Professor Ramsey turned to leave, Miss Summerfield rolled down her window and yelled, “Just stuff it, Brad! And if you even think about upstaging me tonight, I’ll bury you!”

“Do you think she was angry enough to kill him?”

“Possibly, but she didn’t have the opportunity. The driver said he waited for her at the back of the auditorium, and the moment the curtain came down on the first act, they hurried back out to the car. It wasn’t quite fast enough, because there were dozens of fans waiting for her. She got into the car, rolled down the window, and signed autographs for at least twenty minutes. I checked that out, and it’s true. And then the driver took Miss Summerfield back to Minneapolis.”

“I guess that clears her.”

Mike gave her a knowing grin. “But you still want to know what Professor Ramsey did to make her so mad, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Hannah admitted.

“Well, so did I, so I called and asked her.”

“You didn’t!”

“I did.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she thought they were going to talk about the talent show, but Professor Ramsey told her he’d admired her from afar ever since he’d first seen her on television, and he’d written a poem for her. He read it aloud, and then he…well…you can probably guess what he tried to do.”

“I can guess.”

“She told me that it might have worked on a naive college freshman, but she wasn’t impressed with his line. She told him to get lost and marched right out of there.”

“Good for her!” Hannah said, wishing she’d done the same. But this was no time to indulge in regrets and recriminations. “Do you have any other suspects?”

“No, but I’m heading to Macalester in the morning to check out things there. Stella Parks is going to meet me on campus.”

Hannah remembered the Minneapolis detective with fondness. “Tell her hello from me,” she said.

“I will. Anything else I should know?”

“I don’t think so. If I think of anything, I’ll call.”

Mike stood up and headed to the door with Hannah following close behind. When he got there, he turned and asked, “How’s Norman?”

Hannah was ready to give her standard just fine answer, but Mike was Norman’s friend and she could tell he really wanted to know. “I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “Sometimes he seems just fine, but other times I know there’s something bothering him.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I wish he could tell me what it was.”

“Me, too,” Mike said. “Then maybe we could do something to help.”

They stood there quietly, looking at each other, until Hannah dropped her eyes. “Goodnight, Mike,” she said.

“Goodnight, Hannah.” Mike pulled open the door, but he didn’t step out immediately. First he touched her cheek very gently, with the tip of his finger. “Take care,” he said, giving her a smile. And then he turned and walked down the stairs.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Hannah awoke to a rough tongue licking her nose and sunlight streaming in her bedroom window. “What time is it?” she asked her feline bedfellow.

“Rrowww!” Moishe answered, assuming a sphinx-like posture on the pillow next to hers.

Since she didn’t speak cat and had no interpreter, Hannah turned to look at the clock. It was seven-thirty, and she’d gotten over six and a half hours of sleep. This hadn’t happened since…Hannah’s mind balked at going that far back in time. It certainly hadn’t happened since she’d opened The Cookie Jar.

She threw back the light cotton coverlet she used during the summer months and smiled. This morning there was time for a luxurious cat stretch that imitated Moishe’s ritual stretch. Hannah rolled over on her stomach and extended her arms and legs in random order until they were spread out in opposite directions. When that was concluded, she tucked arms and legs back in and rolled to one side, then the other side, and ended up on her back. And then came the best stretch of all, with all four paws, or in Hannah’s case limbs, pointing straight up to the heavens. After that there was a flip to the side, another stretch extending toward the doorway, and Hannah sat up on the edge of the bed feeling better than she had in months. Obviously sleep was the key. If only there were some way to get more of it! Leaving her roommate to take quite literally a spit bath, Hannah headed off to the shower.

Twelve minutes later, cat and mistress left their bedroom and padded down the hall. Moishe was wearing his orange and white fur suit, and Hannah was dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved buttercup yellow blouse. Hannah was still wearing her fur-lined slippers and Moishe was doing the same.

“Oh, my!” Hannah said as a welcome aroma drifted out from the kitchen. She’d forgotten to set the timer for the coffee last night, but Michelle had made a pot.

“Good morning, Hannah,” Michelle greeted her. “I’m falling down on the job. All I made for breakfast this morning is coffee.”

“Coffee’s perfect. It’s exactly what I need. Can you think of a better way to start the day?”

Michelle didn’t waste any time thinking. “You’re right. Sit down and I’ll get yours. And I’ll have another cup with you.”

“You know, it’s just amazing how alert I feel. And I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee.”

“Sleep will do that to you. You should really try it more often.” Michelle handed Hannah her coffee cup and sat down at the table with her.

The two sisters sipped in companionable silence for several minutes, and then Hannah spoke. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Mother doesn’t need me, so I thought I’d run out to the college and talk to Tim Pearson if I can borrow your truck.”

“Ride in to work with me and you can have it. Just make sure you’re back before the Donkey Baseball Game.”

“When is that?”

“It starts at three and lasts until six. Then there’s a barbecue and pizza feed in the big tent on the football field.”

“And after that is the auction…right?”

“Right. I know Mother was resisting. Did Stephanie end up talking her into donating something?”

“Yes, she did. Mother gave her a carved umbrella stand. It’s ebony and Luanne got it at an estate sale in Edina.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It isn’t. The carving is well done, but there are grotesque-looking rodents all over it. Mother’s never been