Apple Turnover Murder (Hannah Swensen, #13)(40)

Michelle grabbed an apron and tied it on, and when she looked up again, she seemed a bit more composed. “The other college he told me about … you were there?”

“I was there. He was an assistant professor in the poetry department and I was a very na?ve graduate student.” Hannah stopped speaking as the tears threatened her as well. She looked down at the recipe, and even though she tried to concentrate on the list of ingredients, the memories rushed back. “I think it was his eyes,” she said. “He had the most wonderful eyes.”

Michelle swallowed hard. “He did have wonderful eyes. They were so perceptive … or at least I thought they were. I really believed he knew what was in my heart.”

“It was the poetry that convinced me. He read it so beautifully. He told me that I was his inspiration and we’d always be together.”

Michelle just nodded. She didn’t seem capable of speech.

“If I hadn’t found the old hand-bound book when I was waiting for him in his office, I would have gone right on believing that he’d written that lovely poetry himself.”

“He didn’t write that poetry himself? The one about the angels and the faces in the clouds?”

“That poem and all the others were written by someone named Nathaniel Woodman. The book was dated eighteen-ninety.”

A little sob escaped Michelle’s throat. “He said I was his Elizabeth Barrett and he was my Robert Browning. I was so stupid to believe he loved me! And now I don’t know if I should be sad, or … or glad, or … I don’t know how I should feel!”

Hannah crossed the space between them to give her sister a hug. The whole Swensen family was restrained when it came to physical demonstrations of affection, but Hannah deemed a hug appropriate between two sisters who weren’t sure whether to grieve or celebrate.

“He played both of us,” Michelle said, blinking back bitter tears. “He must have felt pretty smug making two sisters fall in love with him.”

Hannah took a deep breath and spoke the words that were so painful to her. “He didn’t know we were sisters. He’d forgotten all about me. He didn’t even recognize me when you brought him to the condo for Christmas Eve dinner. That’s how important I was to him.”

Michelle stared at Hannah in shock, and then she made a little sound of distress. She threw her arms around Hannah and hugged her so tightly that Hannah wondered if she’d have any ribs left intact.

“I’m sorry, Hannah,” Michelle said when the hug had ended. “I’m so sorry. I … I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Hannah reached out to smooth back Michelle’s hair, the way she’d done when her sister was a small child and had awakened with a nightmare.

“I wonder how many other women there were,” Michelle said at last, and there was an undertone of bitterness in her voice.

“A lot,” Hannah answered.

There was a moment, a long moment, when neither of them spoke. And then Michelle asked the question that weighed heavily on both of their minds. “Does anyone have to know?”

“No,” Hannah said in her most definite, not-to-be-doubted tone. “No one has to know except the two of us.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Just get some eggs, butter, and cream cheese out of the refrigerator. We’re going to make Jerry’s Chocolate Marshmallow Cookie Bars, and then we’ll mix up some Aggression Cookies.”

“Aggression Cookies?”

“They’re Karen Moon’s recipe, another one from last year’s cookie exchange. Karen told Mother that when she has a bad day, she just mixes up a batch and punches out all her frustration on the dough.”

“Do you think it’ll work?”

“I don’t know, but Mother said the cookies were excellent and it can’t hurt to try it. Maybe it’ll make you forget you ever even knew Bradford Ramsey.”

Michelle smiled, but then she quickly sobered. “What if they question me? If Mike asks, I’ll have to say I had a … a relationship with him!”

“Did anyone ever see you together in a situation that might suggest you were more than student and professor?”

“No. I was very careful about that. He was my faculty advisor at Macalester so nobody suspected anything when they saw us together on campus. Actually …” Michelle stopped and swallowed again and Hannah suspected she was choking back another sob. “Nothing ever happened at Macalester. It was only after he came here that …”

“I don’t need to know the timeline,” Hannah interrupted what was obviously a painful admission. “If Mike asks, just say that he was your faculty advisor.”

“Okay.” This time Michelle couldn’t hold back a little hiccup of a sob. “I wish I could go back in time and do everything over!”

Hannah reached out to give her another hug. “So do I,” she said.





CHOCOLATE MARSHMALLOW COOKIE BARS


Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

Bottom Layer:

? cup butter (1 stick, 4 ounces, “?” pound)

1-ounce square unsweetened chocolate (I usedBaker’s)

? cup white (granulated) sugar 1 cup all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cupwhen you measure it)