his, she’s going to snitch his dessert fork and slip it to me under the table. I’m going to bag it and put it in my purse. I’ll give it to you when we get to the car.”
“Thank you, Natasha,” Doc said, winking at Delores.
“You’re welcome, Boris,” Delores said, winking right back.
Then both of them laughed, and Hannah laughed, too. Delores seemed happy and carefree tonight, even after a long day of work. Spending time with Doc Knight was obviously good for her.
Hannah watched as several of Sally’s busboys took extra chairs to Carrie and Earl’s table. Once everything was arranged, Carrie motioned to Delores’s party and they all got up and crossed the dining room.
Andrea took the chair next to Delores, while Michelle took the one next to Doc. There was only one chair left, the one between Carrie and Norman. Hannah walked over to it, wondering if the placement had been arranged in advance.
She felt a lump in her throat as big as a baked potato with a slew of toppings when she sat down next to Norman. It was difficult to speak around the potato-sized lump, but she managed to croak out a
“I’m fine,” Norman replied, but Hannah didn’t think he looked fine. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he reminded her of a man facing a hanging jury. Of course that could have been her imagination, but she was convinced that he wasn’t
It was clearly a question and Hannah nodded. “That’s right. Andrea has a digital photo of a woman talking to the man we thought was Buddy Neiman. It was taken the night before he told his band manager that he had to get out of the Minneapolis area.”
“Whoa!” Norman stopped her by putting his hand over hers. “Buddy Neiman wasn’t really Buddy Neiman?”
“No. Doc discovered that his blood type didn’t match his donor card. We don’t know who he actually was.”
“Have you looked into Buddy Neiman’s background? The real Buddy Neiman, I mean?”
“There hasn’t been time. All I know about the real Buddy Neiman is his blood type and the fact that he gave blood at a blood bank in Seattle. You didn’t run into him while you were there, did you?”
“I don’t think so. I saw him with you that night at the hospital, but he didn’t look familiar. And I don’t recognize the name at all.”
“That may not be the name he used in Seattle. All we know is that he used that name when he joined Cinnamon Roll Six. He had a Minnesota driver’s license so he must have had his fake identification in place when he applied for that.”
“That makes sense, but wouldn’t he have used his own blood type on that blood donor card he carried?”
Hannah gave a little shrug. “Maybe, if he knew it. A lot of people don’t know their own blood type.”
“You’re probably right. Do you want me to do a little research on the real Buddy Neiman if there is one?”
“That would be wonderful! But ... do you have time?”
“I have plenty of time. Bev’s spending most of the weekend in the Cities. She wants to see her mother and her daughter, and discuss their move up here.”
Hannah had all she could do not to frown. Doctor Bev was already lying to Norman about where she was going and why. But there was no way Hannah was going to tell Norman that now. She’d wait until she had the complete picture before she hit him with the truth.
“What’s the matter? Is something wrong?” Norman asked.
“No. I was just thinking, that’s all. So ... you’re free tonight?”
“As free as a bird.”
“Bev’s not coming back until three on Sunday afternoon. That’s when Claire asked her to come down to the dress shop to try on the dress she’s wearing to the wedding.”
“Oh,” Hannah said, wondering why he was telling her all this.
“That means I’m free until then. I can help you with the investigation if you want me.”
“Oh, yes!” Hannah said smiling at him. “You
Her words fell into a vat of silence. That was when Hannah realized that everyone else at the table was looking at them with expressions of undisguised interest.
It was not a comfortable thing to know that you were blushing. Hannah attempted to stop the heat of extreme embarrassment from reddening her cheeks, but of course that didn’t work. She could tell that she was as red as her hair and that couldn’t have been an attractive sight.
“Norman just offered to help me with the investigation into Buddy’s murder,” Hannah explained to everyone else, hoping against hope that her cheeks were returning to a color approaching normal. “And I just told him that I want his help.”
“Hello, everyone!” Dot Truman Larson, Sally’s head waitress, arrived at their table in her usual breezy and friendly way. “How are you all tonight?”
“We’re fine,” Hannah said, so grateful for the interruption that she could have given Dot a giant bear hug and might have even offered to babysit her toddler for a period of no less than a solid month.
“Sally’s got something special planned for you,” Dot told them. “She made her Mom’s Apple Pie just for you.”
“I love apple pie,” Doc said.
“Me, too,” Norman added, and there were nods all the way around the table. It seemed that apple pie was everyone’s favorite.
“Great. We’ve got it warm with vanilla ice cream, cinnamon ice cream, sweetened whipped cream, and creme fraiche. We’ve also got sharp cheddar cheese for those who want it. Coffee?”
“Coffee all around,” Earl said, speaking for all of them.
Carrie waited until Dot had left and then she gave a contented smile. “This is just like old times. It feels so good to be with all of you again.”
Norman didn’t say anything. He just smiled, reached out, and squeezed Hannah’s hand.
MOM’S APPLE PIE
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
2 frozen deep dish piecrusts
? cup white sugar
? cup flour
? teaspoon ground nutmeg
? teaspoon cinnamon
? teaspoon cardamom
? teaspoon salt
6 cups sliced, peeled apples
