by Joanne Fluke
VEGAS COOKIES (CASHEW CHIPS IN COOKIES)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
1 cup softened, salted butter (2 sticks, ½ pound, 8 ounces)
1 cup white (granulated) sugar
1 cup brown sugar
2 large eggs (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)
¼ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 and ½ cups flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
1 and ½ cups finely crushed plain potato chips (measure AFTER crushing)
1 cup finely chopped salted cashews (measure AFTER chopping – I used Planters)
1 to 2 cups semisweet chocolate chips
⅓ cup white (granulated) sugar (for coating dough balls)
Hannah’s 1st Note: Use regular potato chips, the thin, salty ones. Don’t use baked chips, or rippled chips, or chips with the peels on, or kettle fried, or flavored, or anything that’s supposed to be better for you than those wonderfully greasy, salty, old-fashioned potato chips.
In a large mixing bowl or in the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the butter, white sugar, and brown sugar together.
Add the eggs and mix them in thoroughly.
Sprinkle in the salt, baking soda, and vanilla extract. Mix everything up together.
Add the flour in half-cup increments, mixing thoroughly after each addition.
If you haven’t done so already, crush your potato chips and add them to your bowl. Mix them in thoroughly.
If you have a food processor, use it with the steel blade to chop the salted cashews into small pieces. Then add them to your bowl and mix them in.
If you are using an electric mixer, scrape down the sides of the bowl and take the bowl out of the mixer.
Give the bowl a thorough stir by hand with a wooden spoon or a mixing spoon.
Add the chocolate chips, mixing them in by hand.
Put the final third-cup of white sugar in a small bowl. You will use this to coat your cookie dough balls after you form them.
Form one-inch dough balls with your impeccably clean hands and place them in the bowl with the sugar, no more than two balls at a time. Roll them around with your fingers until they are coated with sugar.
Place the coated cookie dough balls on an UNGREASED cookie sheet, 12 to a standard-sized sheet.
Hannah’s 2nd Note: You can also line your cookie sheets with parchment paper, but be sure to leave little “ears” at the top and the bottom of the paper. That way you can simply pull the paper, cookies and all, over to your wire racks after they are baked.
Flatten the cookie dough balls a bit with the palm of your hand so that they won’t roll off on their way to the oven.
Bake your Vegas Cookies at 350 degrees F., for 10 to 12 minutes, or until the cookies are starting to turn light golden brown at the edges.
Remove the baked cookies from the oven and place the cookie sheets on cold stovetop burners or wire racks on the kitchen counter.
Let the cookies cool on the cookie sheets for 2 minutes.
After the 2-minute cooling time, remove the cookies from the cookie sheets and place them on wire racks to cool completely.
Yield: Between 6 and 8 dozen crunchy, very tasty cookies that your guests will love. They will also groan loudly when they ask about the name and you tell them Andrea’s pun.
Serve these cookies with tall glasses of milk or strong black coffee.
Chapter Twenty
Of course, everyone had wanted to help, so fifteen minutes later, Hannah, Mike, Norman, Andrea, Delores, and Carrie were seated around a table in the community library with Marge’s community cookbook collection stacked in front of them.
“Most of them have indexes,” Marge explained. “Just turn to the page and see if they list the recipes. Most of them are either alphabetical by recipe title, or in sections.”
“Sections?” Mike asked.
“Yes, like Cakes, Cookies, Desserts, Pies, Candies . . . categories like that. Since Hannah is looking for a specific cake, look under the cake section and see if there’s a German chocolate cake listed.”
“Got it,” Mike said, reaching for a cookbook and then turning to Hannah. “What do you want us to do if we find a German chocolate cake?”
“Put this yellow stickie on the page with the recipe,” Marge instructed, passing out packs of yellow stickies. “Then pass the cookbook to Hannah. She’ll read through the recipes you find to see if she can locate the right one. I’ll help, too. I won’t have any library visitors this early in the morning.”
Except for the turning of pages and the occasional sigh of frustration, the library was quiet. Hannah watched as everyone looked for something that might, or might not, be there.
There were dozens and dozens of cookbooks. Marge had amassed a huge collection over the years. There were enough people working and Hannah did her best to keep up with the recipes that they gave her, going through the ingredient list and looking for a German chocolate cake that listed an orange as an ingredient. For the first half hour, she found nothing that fit the description that Joe had given her.
“Try this one next, Hannah,” Andrea said, putting the cookbook she’d been examining on the top of Hannah’s pile. “It’s from a township that has the word lake in its name.”
Hannah felt a tingle of excitement as she read through the recipe, but the list of ingredients didn’t include an orange. She glanced at the end of the recipe to see if orange zest might be listed as an optional ingredient, and blinked several times to make sure she’d read the line correctly.
“What is it?” Norman asked, noticing Hannah’s excited expression. “Did you find something?”
Hannah gave a little nod and, at the same time, managed to keep from sounding too excited. “Maybe,” she told him. “This German chocolate cake has orange zest as an option in the chocolate frosting.”
“Whose cookbook is it?” Marge asked her.
“It’s the Sweetwater Lake Township,” Hannah told her, glancing at the title on the cover. “And it’s called the Sweetwater Lake Township Farm Cookbook.”
“Call Irma and see if her aunt recognizes the name,” Andrea urged. “Maybe this is it!”
Hannah rummaged in her purse for her cell phone, but then she remembered leaving it plugged in an outlet to charge in The Cookie Jar kitchen. “I don’t have my phone,” she said.
“I’ll call,” Norman, who was sitting next to her, offered. “Just as soon as Irma answers, I’ll hand the phone to you.”
Hannah waited until Norman looked up Irma’s number and dialed it. A moment later, he gave Hannah a nod as he greeted Irma. “Hi, Irma. It’s Norman. Hannah’s with me and she’d like to talk to you.”
“Thanks,” Hannah told him, taking the phone and holding it up to her ear. “Is your aunt with you, Irma?”
“She’s right here,” Irma said, her voice sounding very far away from Hannah’s ear.
“Would you ask her if the name of the township could be Sweetwater Lake Township?”
“Hold on. I’ll ask her,” Irma replied.
Hannah held on, wishing she’d thought to cross her fingers. She was afraid to do it now because Norman’s phone had buttons and indentations on the sides and she was worried that she might cut off the call by mistake.
“Hannah?” Irma came on the line again.
“Yes?”
“Aunt Carolyn says that’s it! She’s sure that was the name! And she thinks that Edith was the name of Joe’s mother. ”
A huge smile spread over Hannah’s face, and she realized that the name on the recipe was Edith’s German chocolate cake. “Give your aunt a hug from me,” she said quickly. “If she’s right, and this is Joe’s mother’s recipe, we may have solved the riddle of Joe’s identity!”
* * *
Of course Carrie and Delores had wanted to go, but Hannah had promised that she’d call the minute that they knew something. Of course, they’d picked
up Joe and he rode in the passenger seat of Norman’s car while Hannah and Andrea sat in Norman’s spacious backseat. Mike insisted on going along, just in case they needed law enforcement, and he followed Norman’s car in his Winnetka County Sheriff’s Department cruiser.
“Does it look familiar yet, Joe?” Hannah asked as they passed a lake, golden light shining on its surface.
“I think so . . . I’m not completely sure. Are we in Sweetwater Lake Township yet, Norman?”
Norman glanced down at the map that was displayed on his GPS. “We’ll be coming up on it in about five minutes. The map shows that it’ll be on your side, Joe.”
They rode in silence for another few minutes and then Joe sat forward and stared intently out the window. “This looks like the hill on the way to our farm, Norman. I can’t be completely positive, but . . . everything looks very familiar.”
Another few minutes passed and Joe gave a little nod. “Yes. I’m almost sure now. This is the road that leads to our farm. And once we come down this hill, if this is it, we should be able to see the shop!”
Hannah crossed her fingers for luck. Joe seemed almost certain that they were approaching the place where he’d lived.
“There it is!” Joe said as the next hill came into view. “See that red building on top of the hill?”
“I see it,” Hannah said, breathing a sigh of relief that she hadn’t brought them all on a wild goose chase.
“I see it, too,” Andrea said, peering out her car window. “Is that your farmhouse behind it?”
“Yes. We’re passing our pasture right now.”
Norman drove up the hill, and stopped at the red building Joe had identified as the shop. “Is this it, Joe?” he asked.
“Yes. Do you see the sign on the peak of the roof?”
“Yes,” Norman answered. “It says Warner Restoration.”
“And that’s my last name,” Joe told them. “My full name is Joseph Eaton Warner. Eaton was my mother’s maiden name.”
Norman stopped the car, and Joe hesitated a moment before he made a move to open his door. “I’m really nervous,” he said, “and I’m not sure why. I know this is the right place.”
“I’ll go see if there’s anyone inside,” Norman offered, opening his door before Joe had time to agree, and walking up to the front of the building. He tried the door, but it didn’t open. Then he walked around the side of the building and peered through the window.
“There’s no one there,” he reported when he came back to the car.
Joe looked confused. “Not even my stepbrother? Dad left me the business, but he gets paid to work by our father’s trust!”
“Who’s your stepbrother, Joe?” Hannah asked.
“Jake! He lived with his mother when Dad got divorced, but we work together, so we try to get along.”
Andrea frowned. “Don’t you like him, Joe?”
Joe shrugged. “Not much, but he should have been here! Maybe he’s down at the house.”
“Do you want me to drive to the farmhouse, Joe?” Norman asked him.
Joe swallowed before he answered, and then he nodded. “Yes, please. Thanks, Norman.”
“I’ll go knock this time,” Hannah said, getting out of the car the moment Norman stopped in front of the farmhouse.
“And I’ll go with you,” Andrea agreed, opening her door and sliding out. “You just sit tight, Joe. We’ll find out if anyone’s home.”
“Joe was shaking,” Andrea said, as she joined Hannah. “I’m glad we’re going up to the house. He looked like he was really nervous.”
“I know,” Hannah agreed. “It could be because he doesn’t know what kind of welcome he’ll get from his stepbrother.”
Hannah went up the steps, and knocked on the door, but there was no answer. She knocked again, louder this time, but again, no one answered the door. “I don’t think anyone’s home,” she said.
“Let’s look through the window,” Andrea suggested, already heading around the side of the house.
Both sisters peered in the kitchen window. No one was sitting at the table and there was no movement of any kind.
“Deserted,” Andrea said.
“But there was someone here recently,” Hannah pointed out. “There are dishes in the sink and someone put them in a pan of soap and water. There are still a couple of bubbles left on the surface.”
“Do you think we should check the barn?” Andrea asked.
“We can, but I don’t think it’ll do any good. When we passed the pasture, the cows were out and it’s not milking time. I really doubt there’s anyone in the barn.”
“Then we should go to the nearest neighbor and ask,” Andrea suggested.
“Good idea. Come on, Andrea. Let’s go tell Joe that we know someone was here this morning, but they’re gone now.”
The neighboring farm was only a mile or two away and, as Norman turned in the driveway, they saw a man standing by the house.
“Good! Someone’s here!” Andrea said.
“It’s Vern,” Joe told them. “Vern and Letty live here. I’ll go ask him what’s happening. And maybe he knows where Jack is.”
“We’ll go with you,” Hannah said quickly, motioning for Mike, who’d just driven up in his cruiser, to follow them. “Come on, and let’s meet Joe’s neighbor.”
As Joe rushed up to his neighbor, Hannah noticed that Vern’s face paled.
“Joe?!” he gasped, looking as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Yes, Vern. I’m back and we just came from my place. Where is everybody?”
“I . . . I . . . I gotta sit down!” Vern said, almost falling into the rocker that was on his front porch. “Is it really you, Joe?”
“It’s me, Vern. Where are Sara and Donnie?”
Vern took a moment to recover his equilibrium, and then he sighed deeply. “It’s a long story, Joe. Everyone thought you were dead. And Jake tried so hard to find you.”
“Who’s Jake?” Mike asked him.
“He’s Joe’s stepbrother,” Hannah explained, realizing that Mike hadn’t heard their earlier conversation.
Joe nodded. “That’s right. We worked together at the shop.”
Hannah reached out to put her arm around Joe as he grabbed his head and groaned.
“It’s beginning to come back to me now,” he told them. “Jake was always in love with Sara.”
“Joe’s neighbor,” Hannah explained.
“That’s right. But Sara told him she loved me.” Joe’s face turned pale. “That didn’t matter to Jake. He still wanted Sara.”
Hannah tightened her arm around Joe’s shoulders as she turned to Vern. “You said you thought Joe was dead,” she reminded him. “Why did you think that?”
“We all thought that. A day or so after Joe disappeared, Jake told the sheriff he’d found a broken guardrail on the bridge that goes over the river. The roads were icy the night Joe drove off and it was snowing like crazy. Jake said he was worried that Joe had slid off the road, gone through the guardrail, and crashed into the river.” He turned to Joe. “They looked for you everywhere, but nobody could find you.”
“Did the sheriff drag the river?” Mike asked him.
“Yeah. A couple of divers went down looking and they found Joe’s car. But they never found . . . you know . . .”
“So they gave up?” Mike asked him.
“Pretty much. We only have two divers, and the water was cold. They couldn’t go down for very long at a time. And then, about a week later and a couple of miles downstream, Jake found Joe’s Minnesota Vikings cap.”
Joe took a moment to process that information. Then he asked, “Are you talking about the stocking cap that Sara gave me for Christmas?”
“Yes, and Sara said you were wearing it the night you drove off to get the things she needed to make your mother’s German chocolate cake.”
Joe nodded. “I remember that. It’s all coming back now. Jake offered to go with me, but we’d been arguing and I said I’d rather go b
y myself.”
Vern sighed. “That’s what he told the sheriff. And we all assumed the worst.”
“That I slid off the road, crashed through the guardrail, into the river and drowned?” Joe asked.
“That’s right. And then, a couple weeks later, all you-know-what broke loose. Sara was living at your place to take care of Donnie, but someone reported her! That’s when the county came to get Donnie.”
“Is Donnie okay?” Joe asked quickly.
“Yes, and he’ll be even better when Sara can get him out of that place they put him in, take him back home, and . . .” Vern stopped and a panicked expression crossed his face. “You have to get to town right away! The county people said it wasn’t right for Sara to take care of Donnie.”
“Why?” Hannah asked Vern.
“Because Sara wasn’t Donnie’s relative, so she couldn’t be the caretaker for a teenage boy. They took him away, Joe, and Donnie was miserable, even though Sara went to be with him every day. Sara told my wife that she just had to rescue Donnie and she read a copy of the county rules. She didn’t want to do it, but the only way she could get Donnie back was to marry into the family. And the only family Donnie had left was . . .”
“Jake?” Joe asked, and he clenched his hands. “My stepbrother, Jake?!”
Vern jumped to his feet and grabbed Joe by the arms. “You’ve got to get to town, Joe! Sara’s at the church right now, and she’s going to marry Jake! You have to stop the wedding!”
Chapter Twenty-one
As they pulled up in front of the church, Hannah rolled down her window. The front doors were open slightly for ventilation, and they could hear strains of wedding music coming from the interior.
“It’s Mendelssohn! The bride is marching down the aisle!” Andrea exclaimed.
“Oh, no! Does that mean we’re too late?” Joe asked.
“No,” Andrea explained. “That’s when the bride starts her walk down the aisle. It’s okay, Joe. The ceremony hasn’t started yet, but we’d better hurry!”
By the time Norman had stopped the car, and they’d hurried to the foot of the steps leading up to the church, the music had stopped. With Joe in the lead, they hurried through the double set of doors and found themselves in the back of the church.