Candy Cane Murder (Hannah Swensen #9.5)

Candy Cane Murder (Hannah Swensen #9.5)

by Laura Levine & Joanne Fluke & Leslie Meir




Chapter


! One #

It was a dream, one of those bizarre fantasies she’d laugh about when she woke up. But not even in her worst nightmare had Hannah Swensen ever imagined she’d be transformed into an elf.

“Are you ready, Aunt Hannah?”

It wasn’t a dream. That was Tracey’s voice. Hannah mouthed a word she hoped wasn’t in her six-year-old niece’s vocabulary and then she answered the question. “I’ll be out in a couple of minutes, honey.”

The holiday season calls for a generosity of spirit, Hannah reminded herself as she pulled on bright green tights and struggled into the matching tunic top. The bottom hem of the tunic had long points of cloth attached like screaming red pennants hanging down around her waist. Each one was tipped with a jingle bell, so if by some miracle someone failed to notice her, the bells would announce her presence.

Her footwear was next. Hannah pulled on slippers with rollup toes in a shade of red so bright it hurt her eyes. She topped it all off with a pointed cap with more jingle bells in the same brilliant red, and avoided the mirror with the same dedication Transylvanian villagers had used to ward off vampires.

“Aunt Hannah?”

“I’m almost ready, Tracey.”

6

Joanne Fluke

“What’s the matter? You sound funny.”

“Elves are supposed to sound funny, aren’t they?” Hannah tugged down the bright red points on her tunic. Perhaps it would stretch out and fit a little better.

“I guess. Better hurry, Aunt Hannah. It’s six-five-six and Santa’s supposed to be here at seven-oh-oh.”

“Right.” Hannah gave a fleeting thought to how much she missed the big hands and little hands on analog watches and risked a glance in the mirror. Her image hadn’t changed for the better. The red of her hair was engaged in a full-scale war with the red of her cap, women who were more than two pounds overweight should avoid form-fitting tunics with bells that called attention to their figure faults, and with the possible exception of those who had fitness club memberships and actually used them, women over thirty should be wary about skipping in public. It was Santa who was supposed to jiggle like a bowlful of jelly, not her!

“Aunt Hannah?”

“Coming.” Hannah tore her eyes away from the wreckage of her self-esteem. If a dozen determined designers had gotten together for the sole purpose of creating an outfit that would be most unflattering for her, they couldn’t have done a better job. She took a deep breath, grabbed the basket of miniature candy canes she would strew like rose petals in Santa’s wake, and opened the dressing room door.

All thoughts of how dreadful she looked were erased as she caught sight of Tracey’s beaming face. Playing Santa’s elf for an hour wouldn’t kill her. And since the large silver basket she was carrying had to contain at least a thousand miniature candy canes, there was an upside to the evening.

She’d have plenty of candy left over to make Chocolate Candy Cane Cookies at The Cookie Jar, her bakery and coffee shop, tomorrow.

“You’re perfect, Aunt Hannah!” Tracey said, taking her aunt’s hand. “All the kids are going to love you.”

And with that vote of supreme confidence, Hannah and CANDY CANE MURDER

7

her niece headed for the temporary stage that had been erected in the dining room of the Lake Eden Inn to wait for Santa to arrive.

“I see Mom!” Tracey said, peeking through the crack in the curtain. “And Aunt Michelle’s there, too. They’re getting the kids lined up.”

Hannah walked over to take a look. She spotted her two younger sisters waiting in line with the children from the Winnetka County Children’s Home. They had been bussed out for an early dinner and a gift from Wayne Bergstrom, who was playing Santa tonight. The children would go back to the Home right after their visit with Santa and then the adult Christmas party would begin.

Tracey glanced at her watch. “It’s seven-one-three and Santa Wayne isn’t here yet. I wonder why he’s late.”

“I don’t know,” Hannah answered, “but make sure you don’t call him Santa Wayne in front of the kids. You know that Wayne is one of Santa’s temporary helpers at Christmas time, but the other kids don’t.”

“Don’t worry, Aunt Hannah. I won’t tell.”

Hannah took another peek through the slit in the curtains.

The children in line were beginning to fidget. If Wayne didn’t get here soon, Michelle and Andrea would have an insurrection on their hands.

And then it happened. Both Hannah and Tracey began to smile as they heard sleigh bells in the distance. From previous Christmas parties at the Lake Eden Inn, Hannah knew that Wayne carried a half-dozen sleigh bells attached to a red leather strap. They usually resided in one of the big patch pockets of his Santa costume, but he took them out when he came in the kitchen door and jingled them to build anticipation for his arrival, and as a signal for his elf to join him in the kitchen.

Hannah took one last look at the line of children. All talking, coughing, and wiggling had ceased. Instead there was si-8

Joanne Fluke

lence, perfect stillness of voice and body, large and small.

And every face wore an expectant smile. Santa was coming and even the teenagers who had seemed so jaded and blasé only moments before were now caught in the grips of heady expectancy.