Christmas Cupcake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  Add the confectioners’ sugar in half-cup increments until the frosting is of proper spreading consistency. (You’ll use all, or almost all, of the powdered sugar.)

  Using a frosting knife (or rubber spatula, if you prefer), spread frosting from the center of your cupcakes out to the edges.

  If you managed to find fresh strawberries, cut off the tops and place one, cut side down, on top of each cupcake. Tell everyone that they’re Santa Hats. If you couldn’t find fresh strawberries, sprinkle your cupcakes with red decorators sugar and call it good.

  Let the frosting “set” at room temperature. After it “sets,” cover your cupcakes loosely with foil and then refrigerate them.

  If you have frosting left over, spread it on graham crackers, soda crackers, or what Great-Grandma Elsa used to call store-boughten cookies. This frosting can also be covered tightly and kept in the refrigerator for up to a week. When you want to use it, let it sit on the kitchen counter for an hour or so until it reaches room temperature and it is spreadable again.

  You can also color this frosting with a drop or two of food coloring. If you make these cupcakes at Halloween, a drop of yellow and a drop of red will make a nice orange frosting. On Valentine’s Day, use just one drop of red and your frosting will be pink. Use green for St. Patrick’s Day, and alternate between red and green for Christmas.

  Hannah’s 2nd Note: This frosting also works well in a pastry bag.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hannah had just unlocked the back kitchen door of The Cookie Jar when Andrea pulled up in her car. She stopped in her tracks, and turned to look at her sister in disbelief. She waited until Andrea had got out of her car and walked over to her. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “Because you never get up before eight unless you absolutely have to.”

  “I absolutely had to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to find out how Joe did at Irma York’s last night. Did the guests like him?”

  “They adored him. Have you had breakfast yet?”

  Andrea shook her head. “Of course not. I just got out of bed and came straight over here. Have you?”

  “No. Let’s go over to the café, and I’ll treat you to one of Rose’s omelets.”

  “With bacon?”

  “Yes, if you want it.”

  “I want it.” Andrea grabbed Hannah’s arm, and the two sisters began to walk down the alley. It was only a block to the café, but it was a cold morning and both of them were chilled by the time they got there.

  “Andrea?” Rose greeted her. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Andrea turned to look at Hannah, and both of them began to laugh. “Do you mean because I’m here so early?” Andrea asked.

  “Well . . .” Rose paused and looked uncomfortable. “Yes. Yes I do. I know that Hannah goes to work early, but I don’t usually see you this time of the morning.”

  “That’s true,” Andrea agreed. “There’s nothing wrong, Rose. I just wanted to see Hannah early to ask her how Irma York’s Christmas party went last night.”

  “It was great!” Rose said. “And now I understand why you’re working so hard to try to find out more about Joe. He’s really a nice man and I’m sure there are people out there who miss him.”

  “Irma’s aunt thought she recognized him,” Hannah told her.

  “Really?” Andrea looked very excited. “Why didn’t you tell me, Hannah?”

  “Because I haven’t had a chance to tell you.” Hannah turned to Rose. “If you’ll get us cups of coffee and join us, I’ll tell both of you everything that Irma’s aunt said.”

  Once Rose delivered their coffee and slid into the booth beside Andrea, Hannah told them everything she’d learned.

  “That’s all?” Andrea asked, when Hannah had finished.

  “I’m afraid so. Irma told me that her aunt brought some papers and old photo albums with her on her visit, and they were going to go through them together this morning.”

  “So Irma’s coming in to The Cookie Jar to tell you today?” Rose asked.

  “Yes, if there’s anything to tell. And I promise I’ll come down to tell you if there’s any news.”

  “Oh, good!” Rose slid out of the booth and pulled out her order pad. “What would you two girls like for breakfast?”

  “I’ll have a bacon and cheese omelet,” Andrea said. “And wheat toast, please.”

  “Make my omelet ham and cheese,” Hannah decided quickly. “And I’d like an English muffin, if you have one, Rose.”

  “I do. I’ll get started on your omelets right after I refill your coffee,” Rose said, slipping the order pad in her pocket and heading for the counter to get the coffee carafe.

  * * *

  “That looks like Mother’s car,” Andrea said, pointing to the car that was parked in back at the vacant storefront next to Bertie Straub’s Cut ’n Curl beauty shop.

  “I think you’re right,” Hannah agreed, unlocking the back kitchen door of The Cookie Jar and flicking on the lights. She went straight to her oven to preheat it, and then she came back to join Andrea. “I’d better hurry and put on the coffee. And then I’d better get started on the baking. I’m trying out a new cookie this morning. I mixed up the dough last night.”

  “What’s this one called?” Andrea asked, following Hannah into the warm interior of the kitchen.

  “I don’t know yet. I’ll think of a name right after we taste them. We didn’t have any dessert at the café.”

  “Dessert for breakfast?” Andrea asked.

  “Why not? We have dessert with lunch, and dessert with dinner. There’s no reason why we can’t have dessert with breakfast.”

  “That sounds like something I hope you don’t tell Tracey when she grows up!” Andrea watched as Hannah put on the coffee, and retrieved a bowl of cookie dough from the walk-in cooler. “What kind of cookies are you making?”

  “It’s a basic chocolate chip cookie dough with cashews, chocolate chips, and crushed potato chips.”

  “They sound really good!”

  “We’re about to find out.” Hannah finished rolling the cookie dough balls and placed them on cookie sheets. Then she slipped the cookie sheets into the racks of her industrial oven, set the time for twelve minutes, poured them both a cup of coffee from the kitchen coffeepot, and went back to the work station to join Andrea.

  “Vegas Cookies, Hannah.”

  “What?”

  “Vegas Cookies. That’s what you should call them.”

  “Why Vegas Cookies?” Hannah asked, clearly puzzled.

  “It’s a pun on the ingredients, Hannah. Cashew Chips In,” Andrea said, her lips turning up in a grin that Hannah could only categorize as devilish.

  “Oh, Andrea! That’s just awful!”

  “I know. Bill says I’m getting a lot better at making up puns. You’ll call them Vegas Cookies, won’t you, Hannah?”

  Hannah smiled. “Yes, I will. From now on, these are Vegas Cookies.”

  “Good!” Andrea’s smile was like the sun coming out on a rainy, dreary day. “Thanks, Hannah.”

  “Don’t thank me. You thought of the pun. I can use it, can’t I?”

  “Of course!” Andrea spoke so fast, Hannah could tell she’d been hoping that her pun would be used.

  Just then the timer went off, and Hannah got up to see if her newly named Vegas Cookies were ready to come out of the oven. She walked over to look at them, and turned back with a smile. “They’re done. Now all we have to do is let them cool for a few minutes and we can . . .”

  Hannah stopped speaking as a knock came at the door. It was an authoritative knock, a knock she recognized immediately. “Will you let Mike in and pour him a cup of coffee, Andrea?”

  “Yes, but . . . oh, I get it. You recognized his knock.”

  “Right. And keep him away from here. I’m about to take out oven-hot cookies, and I don’t trust him not to snatch one and burn his fingers.”


  “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him away,” Andrea said, jumping up and rushing to the back kitchen door to let Mike in.

  “Oh!” she gasped in surprise, as she opened the door. “Hi, Norman. I didn’t know that you were here, too.”

  “Of course not,” Mike said. “I knocked and there’s no way you could know that Norman was here, too. I’ve got to remember to get someone to install a peephole in Hannah’s kitchen door.”

  “You’re right,” Norman agreed. “Even if it’s a knock she doesn’t recognize, she opens the door to see who it is.”

  “Hold the door!” A voice came from behind Norman, and Hannah recognized it. Delores and Carrie were here.

  “Where’s Joe?” Hannah asked, when everyone had come in.

  “He said to tell you that he’ll be over later this afternoon,” Carrie reported. “We brought him takeout from the Corner Tavern.”

  “Right after he ate and drank his coffee, he started sanding my dining room table. He said he wanted to get down to the wood before he went anywhere.”

  “Please get everyone coffee, Andrea,” Hannah instructed. “I’ll make more, just as soon as I get these cookies on the cooling racks. We’ll be six, is that right?”

  “That’s right, and it’ll be crowded at the work station,” Andrea said. “Shall we go to the big table against the back wall of the coffee shop, Hannah?”

  “That’s a good idea. Get everyone settled, and I’ll take care of the baking just as soon as I can.”

  Hannah breathed a sigh of relief as Andrea led Mike, Norman, Delores, and Carrie into the coffee shop. “Hi, Lisa,” she heard Andrea say, and she knew that Lisa had come in early to set up the coffee shop for the morning rush.

  “Hi, everyone,” Lisa greeted the group as they entered the coffee shop. “I see you’ve got coffee already. That’s good. I’ll put on one of the big pots in here, and we’ll be all set.”

  A few moments later, Lisa entered the kitchen. “I see you got hit with company this morning,” she said, walking over to look at the cookies on the bakers rack. “Those look good, Hannah. And they smell good, too. What are they?”

  “Vegas Cookies,” Hannah said, careful not to expound on her answer. “Andrea named them and you’ll have to ask her why they’re called Vegas Cookies.”

  Lisa looked puzzled, but she nodded. “Okay. What can I do for you in here?”

  “Absolutely nothing. Just keep them entertained while I bake. I’m sure that, with such a big group, they’ve got lots to talk about.”

  “How did Joe do last night at Irma’s party?”

  “He was wonderful. Everyone loved him and he was a big help to me. Joe’s great with people, Lisa. You should have seen him with Betty Jackson and Janice. And Irma told me that he was especially good with her aunt Carolyn.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I really like Joe. Did anyone happen to recognize Joe?”

  “Yes and no. I’ll tell you about it later. And don’t forget to ask Andrea why she called our new cookies Vegas Cookies.”

  “I’ll get a platter and take it in,” Lisa said, taking a serving platter from the cupboard and beginning to plate the cookies. “I’ll be back to hear what happened at the party later.”

  The baking went smoothly once Hannah didn’t have to play hostess and chief coffee-maker. She smiled as she heard a burst of raucous laughter coming from the coffee shop. Andrea had obviously told everyone at the big table her pun.

  Dozens of sheets of cookies later and Hannah had filled the shelves on her baker’s rack. She was just taking the last pan of cookies out of the oven when she heard another knock on her back kitchen door.

  It was a knock she didn’t recognize, but Hannah opened the door anyway. Paranoia was not a particular failing of hers. Perhaps she should be a little more cautious, as Mike urged her to be, but she knew almost everyone who lived in Lake Eden, and she wasn’t as security minded as Mike was.

  “Hi, Irma!” she said as she recognized the parka-clad figures standing there. “And you, too, Aunt Carolyn. It’s good to see both of you again. Come in and have a cup of coffee with me.”

  “Thanks, Hannah.” Irma ushered her aunt in and hung their parkas up on the hooks by the back door. “It always smells so wonderful in here.”

  “Thank you.” Hannah glanced at Irma’s aunt. “I’m sorry to be blunt, but I’m so eager about Joe. Did you remember anything?”

  Irma’s aunt gave a frustrated sigh. “No, dear. I’m so sorry, but I can’t seem to recall the name of that township. If it does come back to me, I’ll tell Irma right away and she can call you. I really wanted to help that nice man, but I simply can’t remember.”

  * * *

  After Irma and Aunt Carolyn had left, carrying a bag of Vegas Cookies to share with Irma’s husband, Hannah sat down at the work station again and cupped her hands around a fresh cup of coffee. She really didn’t want more coffee, but the heat of the cup was comforting.

  For one long minute that seemed to take much longer than sixty seconds to pass, Hannah was deeply depressed. Joe had remembered the name of the woman he loved, but how could she find Sara and Donnie without a last name or a location?

  As always, in times of crisis, Hannah stood up and took out a mixing bowl. She would bake. That seemed to clear her mind and perhaps she she’d think of a way to help Joe.

  “Something new,” she said to herself softly. “Bake something you’ve never baked before, and that might help your mind work out a solution.”

  A new cupcake was what she needed. They always sold lots of cupcakes during the holiday season, and she needed something like White Chocolate Eggnog Cupcakes, something that reminded everyone of the holiday season. Eggnog was a holiday drink. What other beverages did people drink over the holidays?

  As she sat there, an old memory surfaced. She was a child sitting next to her father and mother at the kitchen table. She had a cup of warm milk with sugar in it and they had mugs of something they called hot buttered rum. It smelled wonderful and she wanted a taste, so her father dipped his spoon in his cup and gave her a tiny taste. She remembered being disappointed that hot buttered rum didn’t taste as good as it smelled, and that gave her an idea. She would make a new cupcake that would taste just as good as the mugs of hot buttered rum had smelled.

  The moment she thought of it, Hannah got up and began to assemble ingredients. She’d take the easy way out and use a spice cake mix for the base of her cupcakes. They would be holiday rum cupcakes with cinnamon and all the other related spices. Golden raisins would be perfect with the sweet cupcake batter she planned to make. And if people didn’t want to use actual rum in their Golden Raisin Rum Cupcakes, they could use rum extract.

  As she mixed up the batter and prepared her cupcake pans, Hannah realized that she was smiling. Baking was acting as her salvation again. She felt happy when she was baking good things for people to eat. It was almost impossible to be sad or depressed when someone offered you a warm, fresh-baked cookie, or a sweet, delicious confection.

  As she filled the last cupcake pan, Hannah realized that there was something she was missing, something important. The moment she slipped her new cupcakes in the oven, she’d go back over the notes she’d taken about what Joe had told them, and find out what had eluded her.

  Her steno pad was in her drawer and Hannah took it out. She flipped to the notes she’d made and read them over. She wasn’t looking forward to telling Joe that Irma’s aunt had failed to remember the name of the township where she’d lived. It was too bad she didn’t have his mother’s recipe for German chocolate cake. If she had it, she could bake one for him to soften the disappointment he was bound to feel.

  Hannah flipped back to the first notes she’d taken, right after she’d first invited Joe into her kitchen for coffee. He’d told her all about his mother’s cake and how it was his favorite. He’d even mentioned going with his mother and father to the grocery store in the middle of a snowstorm to buy what his mother needed for the cake. Jo
e had mentioned the ingredients his mother had purchased. She’d bought fresh cake flour, German chocolate, coconut flakes, pecans, and . . .

  “An orange!” Hannah gasped, staring down at the page. Joe’s mother had bought an orange! There was no orange in German chocolate cake . . . unless Joe’s mother had been creative with the standard recipe.

  Joe had mentioned that after his mother took off the peel, she’d cut orange slices that looked like wheels for him to eat. What had Joe’s mother done with the peel? Had she thrown it away as most people would? Or had she somehow used it in her cake, or the frosting?

  Joe had told her that the recipe his mother had used was her favorite, and she’d shared it with friends and neighbors. Were there any copies of that recipe out there? She couldn’t very well ask everyone in Minnesota if she had a recipe for German chocolate cake that used orange zest.

  “The library!” Hannah said loudly. “That’s it!”

  “What’s it?” Lisa asked, coming into the kitchen just as Hannah was jumping to her feet.

  “Do you know what time Marge is opening the library at the community center today? And if she still has that shelf of Minnesota cookbooks?”

  Lisa glanced at her watch. “Marge is probably unlocking the door right now. And if you’re talking about the women’s club cookbooks and the church cookbooks, she still has them. There’s even more now. She told me that every group sends her a cookbook when they publish one.”

  “Do people check them out?”

  “No. Marge won’t let them. She tells them that they can make a copy on the copy machine if they want to, but the cookbooks can’t leave the library.”

  “Because people keep them?”

  Lisa nodded. “Yes, and this is Marge’s private collection. It’s just like the yearbooks she collects from all the Minnesota schools. She just lets people look at them and make copies, that’s all.”