Peach Cobbler Murder Read Online Free PDF

matching drawstring pants. “Are you going to be a pest if I have a Klondike Salad?”
    Moishe regarded her with the most innocent of expressions, as if he had absolutely no interest in what she was doing as she took a can of red sockeye salmon from the cupboard and opened it. Hannah harbored no illusion that his disinterest would last any longer than the first whiff of fish-scented air that reached his nostrils. Moishe loved salmon, especially the most expensive kind the Red Owl Grocery had to offer.
    True to form, Moishe was rubbing against her ankles before Hannah had drained the salmon. She scraped off the silver skin to save for him, along with the soft column of backbones. Then she flaked the salmon into a salad bowl and put a small bag of frozen green peas in the microwave. While the peas were cooking, she grated a quarter of an onion and added it to the salmon. Then she peeled an chopped two of the hard-boiled eggs she always kept as a staple in the refrigerator, cooled the cooked peas by immersing them in ice water, and added everything to her bowl. Mayonnaise was next, mixed with a little sweet pickle juice for flavor. A few grindings of pepper from her pepper mill and her salad was finished.
    Hannah carried her salad to the living room and took her favorite seat on the couch. Moishe, merely to be friendly of course, jumped up to sit right next to her and leaned over so that his nose was only inches from her bowl.
    “I wonder why they call it Klondike Salad,” Hannah mused, picking up her cat and moving him a safe distance away. “I guess it’s because a lot of salmon comes from Alaska.”
    Hannah savored every mouthful and Moishe watched her do it. This went on for several minutes until Hannah couldn’t stand seeing Moishe track her fork from the bowl to her mouth and then back again one more time. She got the scraps she’d saved for him and put them in a bowl on the coffee table. She was just sitting down again when her phone rang.
    “Is it Mother?” Hannah asked the cat whose tail had suddenly swelled into a bush. Moishe wasn’t fond of Delores Swensen and he’d shredded several pairs of her panty hose to prove it. As the phone rang again, Moishe’s hackles rose and he arched his back like a Halloween cat. It was definitely her mother, Hannah decided, and she reached for the phone. “Hello, Mother,” she said.
    “Hannah! I’m so glad you’re home!”
    Delores was breathing hard, in loud little gasps, and Hannah went on instant alert. “Are you all right/”
    “No! Something horrible happened and I‘m still reeling in shock! I came within an inch of having a coronary!”
    The mother who was not known for understatement sounded truly panic-stricken, and Hannah’s pulse sped up to crisis rhythm. This could be a real emergency. “What happened?”
    “There was a mouse in my hall closet! I just went to hang up my coat and it . . . it ran over my foot! You’ve got to help me, Hannah!”
    “I see,” Hannah said, although she didn’t. What did her mother expect her to do? Drive over and chase the mouse out of her house? “Don’t panic, Mother. A mouse can be a nuisance, but it can’t hurt you.”
    “I know that. It’s just that it touched me! You don’t know how that makes me feel, Hannah. My skin is just crawling!”
    “I’m sorry it upset you, Mother. Do you still have that package of traps Dad kept in the garage?”
    “They’re on the shelf, but I just can’t bring myself to use one. Mousetraps are so cruel.”
    “Not if you bait them right. Put a little glob of peanut butter right in the center of the bait tray so the mouse’s neck is in the right position. Then when he nibbles, the bail snaps forward and . . . “
    “I don’t want to hear it!” Delores interrupted her daughter’s description. “I refuse to use mousetraps, Hannah. They’re inhumane.”
    “Whatever you say, Mother. But you said you wanted my help. What do you expect me to do?”
    “I thought you could