"Morning, Hannah. Skippy started without me this morning. By the time I grabbed the leash, he was halfway up the block and headed for your place."

"He must have smelled the cookies. Want to come in and have one?"

"Sure. Skippy, too? I can take him back to the drugstore if you don't want him inside." Jon bent down and snapped on the leash.

"Skippy, too. The health board's never around this early, and technically I'm still closed so it doesn't matter anyway."

Once Jon was settled in a chair with two of his favorite Mola.s.ses Crackles and a mug of coffee, and Skippy was sitting at his feet with one of the dog biscuits Hannah kept for visiting dogs, she asked the question she'd been planning to ask him ever since she'd seen the pill in the cottage Gus Klein had inhabited so briefly at the lake. "I saw someone take a pill the other night and I'm wondering what it was. I found another one the next day, so I got a good look at it."

"Do I want to know who took the pill and where you saw it?"

"Not really."

"Okay. What did it look like?"

"It was a capsule. One end was green and the other end was white."

"A green-and-white capsule," Jon repeated. "Was it a regular size capsule, or a really skinny one?"

Hannah thought about that for a moment. "I think it was a regular size. Mother used to take gelatin capsules to make her nails stronger. It was that size."

"Regular, then. How about markings? Did you see any?"

"There was something there, but it was blurred and I couldn't make it out."

"Do you know the difference between a capsule and a caplet?"

"I think so. Caplets are solid, right?"

"Right. But this capsule you saw was one you could have pulled apart like your Mother's gelatin capsules?"

"That's right. Do you have any idea what it was?"

"I may have, if you described it accurately." Jon leaned a little closer, even though the coffee shop wasn't open yet and there was no one else at the tables. "Does this have anything to do with the murder out at the pavilion?"

"Uh..." Hannah dithered for about two seconds and then she decided to play it straight. "It may have. I don't know for sure."

Jon covered his eyes with his hands. "I wish you hadn't said that, Hannah. You could be asking me to give you information that I should be giving to the sheriff's department."

"Have they asked you anything about green-and-white capsules?"

"No."

"I don't think they will, since I'm the only one who saw it and I flushed it down the drain so the frog couldn't get it."

Jon gave a little groan. "I'm not even going to ask you about the frog. It's too early in the day. You're going to owe me big time for this, Hannah."

"How about a dozen Mola.s.ses Crackles?"

"You got it. But you don't really have to give me cookies. As long as I'm not breaking any laws, I'll be happy to tell you anything I know."

"Great! Tell me, please?"

"It's like I said before...if your description is accurate, it sounds like an amphetamine capsule to me."

"Really!" Hannah began to frown. "What, exactly, does an amphetamine do?"

"It increases heart rate, decreases appet.i.te, and makes you feel alert. It used to be prescribed as a diet pill, but it has addictive properties and some nasty side effects, like sleeplessness and occasional hallucinations. It's more tightly regulated now."

"Then the pill I saw couldn't have been an over-the-counter antacid?"

Jon shook his head. "I don't think so, not unless it's something so new I haven't seen it yet. I know I don't have any antacids like that at the store."

"Okay," Hannah said. "Thanks, Jon. You've helped me a lot. Hold on a second and I'll pack up some Mola.s.ses Crackles for you."

A few minutes later, Hannah saw Jon and Skippy out the door with a dozen Mola.s.ses Crackles, two more dog biscuits, and the steak bone she'd been saving for the Malamute who lived next to Lisa and Herb's neighbors. She still didn't understand what Gus had been doing with an amphetamine and why he'd called it an antacid, but she didn't have time to think about that right now. She had to bake another couple of batches of Red Velvet Cookies before the birthday party tonight, catch Gus Klein's killer without alienating Mike in the process, go out to the lake to make three batches of Wanmansita Ca.s.serole to serve at Jack's party, and check on her wayward cat to make sure he was still behaving. She knew she could do it, but it would take all the energy she had to give, and then some!

ROCKY ROAD BAR COOKIES (S'MORES) Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

24 graham crackers (12 double ones) 2 cups miniature marshmallows (white, not colored) 6-ounce package semi-sweet chocolate chips (1 cup) 1 cup salted cashews cup b.u.t.ter (1 stick, pound) cup dark brown sugar, firmly packed 1 teaspoon vanilla extract Spray a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan with Pam or other nonstick spray. (If you like, buy a disposable foil pan in the grocery store, place it on a cookie sheet to support the bottom, and then you won't have to clean up.) Line the bottom of the pan with a layer of graham crackers. (It's okay to overlap a bit.) Sprinkle the graham crackers with the marshmallows.

Sprinkle the marshmallows with the chocolate chips.

Sprinkle the chocolate chips with the cashews.

In a small saucepan over low heat, combine the b.u.t.ter and brown sugar. Stir the mixture constantly until the sugar is dissolved.

Turn off the heat, move the saucepan to a cool burner, and stir in the vanilla.

Drizzle the contents of the saucepan evenly over the contents of the cake pan.

Bake at 350 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes or until the marshmallows are golden on top. Cool in the pan on a wire rack.

When the Rocky Road Bar Cookies are cool, cut them into brownie-sized bars and serve.

If there are any leftovers (which there won't be unless you have less than three people) store them in the refrigerator in a covered container. They can also be wrapped, sealed in a freezer bag, and frozen for up to two months.

Yield: 2 to 3 dozen yummy treats that will please adults and kids alike.

Chapter Fourteen.

"This is a wonderful cookie, Hannah!"

"That's what Lisa said. But do you think it's anything like the cookies Iris told you about?"

Delores gave a dainty little shrug. "I'm not sure, dear. It certainly tastes like the cookie she described to me. But there's no way to tell unless she tastes it. Isn't that right?"

"That's right. Lisa took a few out to the reunion. I'm waiting for her to call and tell me what Iris thinks."

Hannah got up to refill her mother's coffee mug. They were sitting in the kitchen at The Cookie Jar, and Delores looked as fresh as the first daffodil of spring in a bright yellow linen suit with a lacy white sh.e.l.l. If Hannah were wearing the same suit, in a larger size of course, she'd look as wilted as an old banana skin.

"What is it, dear? You're staring at me."

"Sorry. You look wonderful this morning, Mother."

"Thank you, Hannah."

"I was just wondering if your suit is real linen."

"Of course it is. You know I don't like to wear synthetics."

"I know that, but..." Hannah stopped and sighed.

"But what?"

"I can't figure out how you can wear a linen suit when it's this hot and humid outside and still not get it wrinkled."

"I'm careful, dear. And I take off the jacket and hang it up on the hook in the back of the car when I drive."

"But your skirt isn't wrinkled, either."

"Well, I don't take it off and hang it up in the car, if that's what you're thinking!"

Delores gave a little laugh and Hannah joined in. Her mother was quick-witted this morning. "I'm careful about how I sit," Delores explained. "Your grandmother used to say, Ladies don't wrinkle unless they a.s.sume unladylike positions."

Hannah nodded. Her maternal grandmother had been a stickler for proper etiquette, impeccable grammar, and a ladylike demeanor.

"You said you wanted to ask me some questions about Gus," her mother opened the discussion.

"I do. Did you manage to find a picture of him about the time the two of you were dating?"

Delores reached for one of four Jordan High yearbooks she'd stacked on the stainless steel surface of the workstation and flipped it open to a page that was marked with a pink strip of paper. "This is his formal senior picture."

Hannah stared down at the yearbook photo. Gus looked every bit as handsome as Marge and Patsy had claimed he was. She could understand why the high school girls had been wild about him.

"What happened to him after high school? I was going to ask Marge, but I forgot. Did he go on to college?"

Delores shook her head. "Good heavens, no. His grades weren't good enough. He got drafted."

"Into the Army?"

"No, into the minors. Didn't anybody tell you that Gus played baseball?"

"Marge and Patsy mentioned it, but I thought it was just in high school."

"No, Gus was really very good, and he was a first round draft pick. He still holds the Minnesota state record for the highest batting average."

"Did he ever make it to the majors?" Hannah asked.

"I don't think so. I'm sure Marge would have mentioned it to me." Delores stopped and looked thoughtful. "Or maybe not. I was already engaged to your father by then, and she might have thought it wasn't appropriate to bring it up."

"Was Gus still playing baseball when he came back to Lake Eden to stay with Marge and his parents?"

"No. I know that for a fact. Gus came into the hardware store one day and he told your father he'd quit the farm team."

"Did he give a reason?"

"He said that life on the road with a baseball team just wasn't for him, that he wanted to get a good job and settle down. But I never believed that!"

"Why not?"

"Because it was his chance for a great career if he'd worked at it. I don't think he did. It just wasn't in his nature. For one thing, there were the women. I'm sure he had plenty when he was with the team, and he probably didn't treat them well. He certainly didn't in high school! And then there was the gambling. The Gus I knew when we were in high school made his spending money by cheating at cards and making rigged bets."

"Didn't he ever lose?" Hannah was curious.

"Only when he ran into someone who was a bigger cheater than he was. And when that happened, he just borrowed money from his sisters, or his current girlfriend, and kept right on gambling. He drank a lot, too. It was easy for him to buy liquor, because he looked older than most of the other boys."

"Did you ever lend him money when you were dating him?"

Delores gave a little sigh. "More often than I should have. And he didn't always pay me back. As a matter of fact, I think he still owed me twenty dollars when he left Lake Eden. Gus was a louse, pure and simple."

"Maybe he changed," Hannah suggested, playing devil's advocate.

"A leopard doesn't change its spots." Delores gave a little snort for emphasis. "I'm willing to bet that he was kicked off the team for drinking, or gambling, or romancing the wrong woman, or something like that."

Hannah bit her tongue and didn't say anything about sour grapes or a woman scorned. This was her mother, after all. Instead, she pulled the Jordan High yearbooks closer and smiled at her mother. "Show me the pictures?" she asked.

For long moments, Hannah looked and Delores pointed, giving a brief explanation for each photo she'd marked. The collection of Gus Klein pictures was extensive. There were at least a dozen photos in each book. It appeared that Gus had been awarded almost every high school athletic trophy, although Hannah didn't notice any academic honors.

"That's it, dear," Delores said, closing the last yearbook. "Is there anything else you need to know?"

"Just a few more things. Do you know anything about why Gus Klein left Lake Eden in the middle of the night?"

"I'm not sure why he left. I don't think he told anyone. And I don't know the details, but I heard there was a big fight between Gus and Jack Herman."

"Who told you that?"

"Your father. He was driving home from the store with Uncle Ed, and they stopped to break up the fight."

"What was the fight about?"