Apple Turnover Murder Part 5

When Hannah and Mike opened the back door of The Cookie Jar, a delightful scent rolled out to meet them. Hannah identified cinnamon, cardamom, and apples baking in what she was sure was a b.u.t.tery crust.

"Mmmm," Mike said with a sigh, taking a big gulping breath of the heady scent. "Nothing smells better than apple pie in the oven."

"They're apple turnovers," Marge corrected him.

"I know, Mrs. Beeseman. Hannah told me. But it smells like my mom's kitchen during apple-picking season. She used to make at least a dozen pies a day."

"Did she sell them?"

"No, they were for the freezer. Apple pie was my dad's favorite and he always wanted it for Sunday dinner."

"Your Mom must have used cinnamon, nutmeg, and cardamom," Lisa told him. "That's what Marge uses."

Mike shrugged. "I guess she must have because it sure reminds me of home. My mouth's watering and my stomach's growling, and I just had a full meal."

"My stomach's growling and my mouth's watering, too," Jack Herman, Lisa's father, spoke up. He was a tall, silver-haired man in his sixties who'd been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease a little over two years ago. When Lisa had married Herb, Marge had given them her house as a wedding present. She'd moved in with Lisa's father and had become his primary caretaker so that Lisa would be free to enjoy married life with her son.

Normally, in a small town the size of Lake Eden, people would have voiced loud disapproval of a widow who moved in with a widower without benefit of marriage. In Jack Herman and Marge Beeseman's case, there wasn't a breath of censure, or even gossip. Everyone in Lake Eden liked Herb. He was their town marshal in charge of parking enforcement. And everyone thought Lisa was a sweet, selfless young woman for giving up her college scholarship to stay home and take care of her dad. Both Jack Herman and Marge Beeseman were respected members of the community, and if they wanted to share a house, that was fine with Lake Edenites.

"Your stomach's growling because you haven't had supper," Marge said, smiling at Jack. Then she turned to her sister Patsy, who also lived with them. "Don't start thawing that next batch of puff pastry. We'll take a break to eat and then we'll get right back to it."

Hannah handed the bag of burgers to Marge, and then she turned to Herb. "How about Dillon? Is it okay if he comes inside for a cookie?"

Herb glanced at Mike. "How about the health regulations?" he asked.

"They don't apply to special needs dogs or police dogs," Mike told him.

"Great! Will you open the door, Hannah? I'll call him."

"Sure, but he's inside your cruiser."

"That's okay. The windows are down. Just open the door and watch what happens."

Hannah opened the back door. "What now?" she asked Herb.

"Now I call him." Herb pulled a silver whistle from his pocket and put it to his lips. Hannah listened but the whistle didn't make a sound.

"Is it broken?" Patsy asked.

"No, it's a dog whistle. It's such a high frequency humans can't hear it." Herb raised the whistle again. "Step aside, Hannah. He'll come barreling in any second."

Herb blew the whistle again and Hannah heard a thump outside as Dillon hit the ground running. A second later he raced in the door, skidded to a stop in front of Herb, and sat down on his haunches.

"Good boy!" Herb praised him. And then he patted Dillon on the head and scratched him behind the ears.

"Impressive," Mike said. "There's only one thing I'm wondering about."

"What's that?"

"Will Dillon come to anybody who blows a dog whistle?"

"No, not unless they know the code."

"This little dog knows codes?" Jack asked, looking astounded.

"Just one, and I guess it can't hurt to tell you. It's three blasts on the dog whistle, a pause, and then two more blasts. That's the only thing he responds to. Any other combination of whistles and he just sits there waiting."

"Smart." Mike said.

"Very smart," Jack agreed, eyeing the bag of hamburgers on the counter. "Is there a hamburger for...what was his name again, son?"

"Dillon," Herb told him.

"Right. And it's for Marshal Dillon. I keep thinking it's Field Marshal Montgomery, but he's British and my grand-dog's not British. Dillon's foreign, but he's from Labrador."

Herb and Lisa laughed, and Jack looked pleased. "But he's only half Labrador. The other half's...what is it again?"

"Jack Russell Terrier," Lisa told him, "and heaven only knows what else is in there."

"It doesn't matter. He's a handsome guy." Hannah went to the kitchen cabinet and took out a box of dog treats. "Can he have one of these, Herb?"

"Yes, but he won't take it."

"Why? Jon Walker's dog, Skippy, just loves them."

"Oh, Dillon would love one, but he won't take it unless I say it's all right. Go ahead and try to give it to him."

Hannah walked over to Dillon with the dog treat and held it out. "Here you go, Dillon. Have a treat."

Anyone watching could tell that Dillon wanted the treat. He gave a soft little whimper, but he turned his head away.

"Try again," Herb said.

"Here, Dillon." Hannah waved the treat under his rose. "It's really good and it's yours."

Dillon turned his head away for the second time, and Herb gave a proud smile. Then he said to Hannah, "Okay, try it again. This time I'll tell him it's okay."

Hannah held out the treat. "Do you want this?"

"It's okay, Dillon," Herb said, and Dillon gently took the treat from Hannah's hand.

"That's really impressive," Hannah said. "Do you train cats?"

Everyone laughed, including Herb, who finally stopped chuckling enough to speak. "If you're talking about Moishe, the answer is no. Moishe's a very smart cat. If I tried to train Moishe, he'd end up training me!"

"What's the count?" Hannah asked at a few minutes past ten.

"Two hundred forty," Lisa answered, picking up the last tray to come out of the oven and carrying it to the baker's rack. "Do you think I should freeze these while they're still warm?"

"Wait until morning," Marge told her. "They'll get ice crystals if you freeze them while they're warm. Cover them with a sheet of wax paper until morning, and then wrap and freeze them."

Hannah stood up and stretched her back. "You're the boss, Marge," she said, wiping down the work surface. She stopped as she came to the apple peeler that Marge and Jack had brought with them. "Do you want to take this home with you?"

"No sense in that," Patsy said, also standing and stretching. "We're just going to use it tomorrow night. Can you stick it in that industrial dishwasher of yours and save it for us when we come down here tomorrow night?"

"Sure, but are you sure you want to do this again tomorrow?"

Patsy laughed. "We'd better. Mrs. Mayor said she needed turnovers for the talent show, Casino Night, and Donkey Baseball. I figure that's got to add up to seven hundred, maybe even a thousand."

"You're right," Mike offered his opinion. "Anybody who eats one at intermission tomorrow night is going to want another one on Casino Night and another at Donkey Baseball. People are going to be talking about how good these turnovers are. That's word of mouth and it's going to send sales through the roof."

"So you like my apple turnovers?" Marge asked him.

"They're even better than my..." Mike stopped and looked as guilty as a small boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. "Don't tell anybody I said this, okay? Mom's apple pie is great. I love Mom's apple pie. But your apple turnovers are even better!"

MARGE'S APPLE TURNOVERS Hannah's 1st Note: Marge uses commercial puff pastry dough for her turnover crusts. She says life's too short to spend all day making puff pastry. She buys it frozen in sheets and thaws it as she needs it. One batch makes 8 turnovers, and Marge uses one 17.5-ounce package. Florence down at the Red Owl carries Pepperidge Farm frozen puff pastry dough and it contains 2 sheets.

If you'd rather, you can use pie crust dough. Just remember to roll it out a little thicker than you would for a regular pie since it won't be in a pie pan.

The Crust One 17.5-ounce package frozen puff pastry dough 1 egg 1 Tablespoon water White (granulated) sugar to sprinkle on top Apple Filling: 4 and cups cored, peeled, sliced, and chopped apples (I used 2 large Granny Smith apples and 2 large Fuji or Gala apples) cup sweetened dried cranberries (I used Craisins) 1 Tablespoon lemon juice 1/3 cup white (granulated) sugar cup flour teaspoon ground nutmeg (freshly ground is best, of course) teaspoon cinnamon (if it's been sitting in your cupboard for years, buy fresh!) teaspoon cardamom teaspoon salt Thaw your puff pastry dough according to package directions. Do this on a floured board.

While your pastry is thawing, core and peel the apples. Slice them as you would for a pie and then cut the slices into 3 pieces. Place the apples in a large mixing bowl and mix in the sweetened dried cranberries. Sprinkle the fruit with 1 Tablespoon of lemon juice to keep the apples from browning. Toss the mixture around with your fingers to make sure all the apples are moistened.

Mix the sugar, flour, spices, and salt together in a small bowl.

Dump the bowl with the dry ingredients on top of the apples and toss them to coat the apples. (You can use your fingersit's easier) Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

When your puff pastry has thawed, roll half of it out to a twelve-inch square on a floured board. Use a sharp knife to make one horizontal line through the middle of the square and one vertical line through the middle of the square. This will divide it into 4 equal (or nearly equal) pieces.

Break the egg into a cup. Add 1 Tablespoon of water and whisk it up. This will be your egg wash.

Line a cookie sheet with a piece of parchment paper.

Transfer one square of puff pastry dough to the cookie sheet.

Use a pastry brush to brush the inside edges of the square with the egg wash. This will make the edges stick together when you fold the dough over the apples.

With a slotted spoon, pick up approximately cup of the filling ( cup for the smaller turnovers) and place it in the center of the square.

Pull one corner of the square over the filling to the opposite corner of the square, forming a triangle. Press the edges together.

Use the tines of a fork to seal the edges together.

Coat the top of the turnover with egg wash, using a pastry brush.

Cut two slits in the top of the turnover with a sharp knife. The slits should be about an inch long. (This is a very important step. Not only does it let out the steam when the turnovers bake, releasing a delicious aroma that'll have the neighbors knocking at your door, it also gives everyone a peek at the delicious filling when it's time to serve dessert.) Follow the same procedure to fill and seal the remaining three turnovers.

Roll out the second sheet of puff pastry and cut it into squares. Transfer the squares to the baking sheet, and fill and seal the remaining turnovers.

When all the turnovers have been filled, sealed, and brushed with egg wash, sprinkle the tops with white sugar.

Bake your turnovers at 400 degrees F. for 25 minutes, or until they're golden brown on top.

Remove the cookie sheet to a wire rack and let the turnovers cool for 5 minutes. Then pull the parchment paper and the turnovers off the cookie sheet and onto a waiting wire rack.

These turnovers are delicious eaten while slightly warm. They're also good cold.

If any turnovers are left over (fat chance at my house!) wrap them loosely in wax paper and keep them in a cool place. The next day you can reheat them in the oven.

Chapter Six.

The dimly-lit garage smelled of wet concrete blocks, soaked by yesterday's midafternoon rain shower, lingering exhaust fumes from recently departed vehicles, and a potpourri of coffee grounds and old orange peels from the dumpster that sat against the far wall. It wasn't the stuff that perfumes are made of, but to Hannah it smelled like home.

Mike took her arm and walked her to the set of steps leading up to ground level. This took them past the dumpster and Hannah noticed that he wrinkled his nose. "Tomorrow's garbage day?" he asked.

"That's right. Every Tuesday morning."

"I thought so. Something's getting a little ripe in there." Mike walked her to the covered staircase that led up to her second-floor condo.

"Coffee?" Hannah asked when they arrived at her door, even though every tired muscle in her body was screaming for the comfort of a soft mattress and as many hours sleep as she could get. The last thing she wanted tonight was company, but it was only polite to offer.

"No coffee for me, thanks. It's almost eleven and you need your sleep. I just want to make sure everything's okay inside and you're locked in safe for the night."

Hannah felt a warm glow start at her toes and move up her body to the top of her head. That was nice of Mike. Ever since she'd almost been killed six months ago, he'd been acting as her protector. And she could swear that he was making a real effort to curb his self-centered tendencies and put her concerns first. In her uncharitable moments, she thought it was probably because he was between girlfriends. And in her generous moments, she was sure that he really did love her to the exclusion of all others. Since she was a level-headed woman who saw the gla.s.s as neither half empty nor half full, but rather a gla.s.s with something in it and room to pour in more, she figured Mike's true motivation was somewhere between the two extremes.

Mike took the keys she handed him and unlocked the door. They both prepared to catch Moishe as he hurtled through the air into waiting arms, but no orange and white cat leaped through the doorway.

"He's probably snuggled up on the couch with Cuddles," Hannah said.

Mike stepped in and turned back to her. "You're right. Neither one of them is moving an inch. They're too comfortable."

"They certainly are!" Hannah followed Mike inside, and they stopped to pet the cats and scratch them under their chins. When both Moishe and Cuddles were purring blissfully, Mike moved on and Hannah stayed a few steps behind him.

"It was great the way you helped Jack with the apple peeler," Hannah said, once Mike had checked the guest bathroom.

"That used to be my job when Mom made pies." Mike opened the door to the guest room and bent to check under the bed. He made a move to open the closet, but Hannah grabbed his arm.

"Don't!" she said.

"Why not?"