Cinnamon Roll Murder (Hannah Swensen, #15)(59)

“Can you e-mail this photo to me?” Andrea asked.

“I think so, but I’m not sure how to do it. The phone store guy said I could send people photos right from my phone.”

“Do you mind if I try?” Andrea asked.

“Knock yourself out!” Shelby gave a little laugh. “I’ll go get your drinks while you try. If my phone rings, just don’t answer it. They’ll leave a message and I’ll get it on my break.”

Hannah watched as Andrea did things she didn’t understand to Shelby’s phone. It was a much fancier model than the one she owned, but she wasn’t a bit envious. All she really wanted to do was make calls and answer calls. Any other tricky features would just get in the way.

“Got it!” Andrea said, looking up with a grin. “I sent it to my e-mail at home, and then I sent it to my phone. Do you want me to send it to your phone?”

“You can’t.”

“Sure I can.”

“No, you can’t. My phone’s just a phone. It doesn’t do anything else.”

Andrea rolled her eyes. “You’re in the Stone Age, Hannah. You really should replace it with a newer model.”

“Why? It works just fine the way it is as long as I remember to charge it.”

“But really, Hannah. There are newer models that do so much more.”

“I’m sure there are, but I finally figured out this phone and I don’t want to switch.”

“All right. Fine. Stay behind the times. I bet you still have a typewriter somewhere in your closet.”

Hannah had a clear mental picture of the portable Olivetti she’d used to type her college term papers. It was perfectly good, and she kept it in a cabinet in her laundry room.

“Well? Do you still have a typewriter in your closet?”

“No,” Hannah said quite truthfully. “I don’t.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that! Maybe there’s hope for you yet.” Andrea glanced down at Shelby’s phone again. “Do you want to know what date Shelby saw this unrecognizable woman with Buddy?”

“Yes. That’s very important. We’ll ask her when she comes back.”

“We don’t need to ask her. I know.”

“You’re psychic?”

“No, I’m smart. And I’m in step with the new technology. The photos are grouped in her phone by date. All I had to do was access the date menu to find out it was taken on the second Saturday in February.”

“Sally and Dick were here!”

“What?”

“I asked Sally when she hired Cinnamon Roll Six to headline her jazz festival and she said it was right after the show on the second Saturday in February.”

Andrea tapped the screen of Shelby’s phone. “So Sally or Dick might have seen this woman?”

“It’s possible. We can go out to the Inn and ask.”

“There’s something else we can do first. We can ask Norman if he can enlarge this photo, or sharpen it, or do something so that we can recognize the woman.”

“I’m not sure that Norman can do that.”

“Why not? He’s always helped you with photographs before.”

“I know, but ... I’m not sure Doctor Bev will let him help us.”

“You’re not sure, so you’re not going to ask?” Andrea looked incredulous. “What happened to the woman who was going to fight for Norman? Did she turn back into a doormat when I wasn’t looking?”

Hannah sighed deeply. “No, she didn’t. I didn’t. I’ll call him myself and tell him we need his help.”

Shelby came up to their table carrying a tray with two tall glass cups. “One raspberry latte, and one chocolate and apricot latte,” she announced placing them on the table. Then she turned to Andrea. “Did you manage to send that picture?”

“Yes. Don’t erase it though, just in case. Okay?”

“Okay. I wouldn’t erase it anyway. It’s the last picture of Buddy I’ve got.” Shelby’s lip quivered and she blinked several times. Then she took a deep breath and set two small plates in front of them. “We started serving the appetizers, so I brought you some. This is Nancy’s Piggy Chicken. Nancy’s the owner’s wife and it’s made from her recipe.”

“Piggy Chicken?” Hannah looked down at her plate. The aroma wafting up to her was heavenly. “It looks like rouladen.”

“What’s that?” Shelby looked puzzled.

“It’s meat that’s been pounded thin and rolled up with some kind of filling inside. Then it’s baked, or fried.”

“That sounds a lot like this.”

“Is the piggy part of Piggy Chicken the bacon that’s wrapped around the outside?” Andrea asked her.

“That’s right. And the chicken part is chicken tenders pounded flat in the kitchen. I watched the cook make them once. The stuff inside is cream cheese and chives. He spreads the cream cheese on the chicken, and snips the chives off with scissors over the top. Then he rolls them up with a strip of bacon, sticks in a toothpick, and bakes them in the oven. I think Tom, he’s the owner, is going to ask the cook if he can make them bigger so we can serve them for dinner.”

Hannah just couldn’t take it anymore. She cut off a piece and put it in her mouth. The Piggy Chicken had been baked to perfection. The bacon was crispy, the chicken was tender and the cream cheese and chive filling just melted in her mouth. “These are really great!” she said, already planning out how to make them at home.