Cinnamon Roll Murder

“I’m glad you said that about the M&M’s. Chocolate candy is perfect in oatmeal cookies. What else did Mrs. Olson use? Can you remember?”

“Once she put a slice of banana inside each cookie and sprinkled the top with cinnamon and sugar. Another time it was chopped dates. I think she did chopped dried apricots, too. That’s the beauty of this cookie. It’s one of those good, basic recipes that you can embellish almost any way you want.”

“Well, this embellishment certainly worked!” Michelle finished her cookie and stood up. “I suppose we’d better pack up the dishwasher, and ...” she stopped, as the phone rang. “Do you want me to get that?”

“Go ahead. I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee.”

“Hannah’s place. Michelle speaking.” She listened for a minute and then she gasped loudly. “Are you sure?”

Hannah turned around to glance at Michelle. Her sister looked positively shocked. “What is it?” she asked.

“It’s Mother. Pick up in the living room, Hannah. Mother’s with Doc Knight and he says Buddy Neiman wasn’t who he said he was!”

Hannah flicked the switch to turn on the coffee pot, and rushed to the living room to pick up the remote phone. “Hello, Mother. What’s all this?”

“It’s exactly as I told Michelle.” Delores sounded a bit breathless. “I’m out here at the hospital doing some paperwork in Doc’s office, and he just popped in to tell me that Buddy Neiman couldn’t have been that keyboard player’s real name.”

“How does Doc know that?” Hannah asked.

“When Doc took a blood sample during the autopsy, it turned out to be B negative. And that didn’t match the blood type on Buddy’s hospital records. At first Doc thought Vonnie had made a mistake with the form, but he found a blood donor card in Buddy’s wallet that said he had A positive blood.”

“What was the name on the card?” Michelle asked.

“Bernard Alan Neiman. Everything in his wallet said Bernard Alan Neiman, including his Minnesota driver’s license. And the blood type on his blood donor card was A positive.”

“That’s strange,” Michelle said, clearly puzzled.

“Who tested the blood sample Doc took during the autopsy?” Hannah asked.

“Marlene. She carried it to the lab right after the autopsy. Doc did the second test himself. Both samples came up B negative.”

“So Buddy was using fake identification,” Hannah said, drawing the obvious conclusion. “Does Doc have any idea who Buddy really was?”

“Not yet. The only facts he has so far are medical. I wrote them down so I could tell you.”

“Hold on while I get a pen.” Hannah reached in her purse and pulled out her shorthand notebook. She grabbed a loose Rhodes Dental Clinic pen that was near the phone, and flipped to a fresh page. “I’m ready, Mother.”

“Buddy’s tonsils were removed, and he had an appendectomy scar. And he broke his left leg in three places when he was quite young. He had a birthmark on his left calf, and a mole on his neck. Norman noticed that Buddy still had all four of his wisdom teeth, which was unusual for his age, and he had a crown that was made of an experimental amalgamate that never made it to the commercial dentistry supply market.”

“How would a dentist get it if it wasn’t sold commercially?” Michelle asked.

“Norman told Doc that free dental clinics and dental schools sometimes hold clinical trials of experimental dental supplies. He’s going to call around to see which company made it and which schools and clinics ran trials for them.”

“Norman could tell all that by just looking?” Michelle asked, sounding impressed.

“Not exactly. He said he knew it was experimental because it had yellowed, and approved amalgamates don’t change color. So Doc gave him permission to remove the crown and take it to a dental lab for analysis.”

“Was Norman there when Doc did the autopsy?”

“No. Doc called Norman in later to see if he could spot anything distinctive about Buddy’s teeth.”

“Doctor Bev wasn’t there?” Hannah asked, surprised that Norman’s fiancee had let him out of her sight.

“Doc said he invited her to tag along, but she said she’d wait for Norman in the lobby.”

That must be because there’s no real competition for her in a morgue, Hannah thought. “Has Doc called Mike to tell him yet?”

“Not yet, dear. I’m passing it on to you first.”

“Thanks, Mother. When is Doc calling Mike?”

“Right after I hang up, but he’ll probably get Mike’s voice mail. If you see Mike before he gets the message, will you tell him to call Doc at the hospital?”

“Sure, but what makes you think I might see Mike before he gets his messages?”

“Whenever Mike has a murder case, he always drops by your place to see what you’ve learned. Not only that, he’s probably been working all day and he knows you’ll feed him. He really shouldn’t expect you to stay up and cook for him.”

“That’s no problem. Michelle always helps and she’s great at thinking up quick meals. If I sound tired, it’s probably because of all the cleaning we had to do when we got back here.”

“What do you mean? Did the cats make a mess while you were gone?”

“And how!” Michelle said, laughing.

“What happened?”

“They were playing chase, and they knocked my flour canister on the floor,” Hannah explained. “And then they knocked over their water dish, and we had kitty play dough to clean up.”

“Oh, my! Well ... that just goes to show we were right, dear. Cuddles needs to go home to Norman. She’s got more room to run there. And the only way Cuddles can go home is for you to send Doctor Bev back where she belongs!”

“Food,” Hannah said to Michelle after she’d hung up the phone and gone back to the kitchen.

“You’re hungry?”

“Not me. Mike. We’ve got cookies, but what can we fix for a main course? Since we didn’t stop at the Red Owl today, the food situation is the same as it was last night.”

“Minus the hamburger,” Michelle pointed out. “But I think you’ve got some elderly bacon in the refrigerator.”

Hannah laughed. “Elderly bacon? I like that! How elderly is it?”

“I’ll see.” Michelle rummaged in the refrigerator for the package of bacon she’d spotted. “You’re in luck. The sell-by date is today. But there’s only half a package left. That’s not going to be enough for Mike, is it?”

“Not just the bacon, no. But I’ve got something in mind that ought to work. How many eggs are left?”

Michelle opened the egg carton. “Four.”

“That’s perfect. And how much flour is left in the bag that was frozen?”

“A little more than a cup. I measured it before I dumped it back in.”

“Do I have milk?”

Michelle shook her head. “All you have is whipping cream. Will that work?”

“I don’t see why not.” Hannah took out a frying pan and plunked it on the stovetop. “If you’ll hand me that bacon, I’ll start frying it.”

“I can do that. What else do you need to make whatever you’re making?”

“Salt and vanilla. That’s it. Although ...”

“What?”

“Was there any cheese left in that package of shredded cheese we used last night?”

“No. We used it up, but I saw a package of cream cheese in the back behind the whipping cream.”

“That’ll do. Mike likes cream cheese.”

“Flour, whipping cream, eggs, bacon, salt, vanilla, and cream cheese ...” Michelle stopped and shook her head. “What are you making?”

“What Grandma Elsa used to call German pancakes.”