by Joanne Fluke
“Then call it a Christmas bonus. You earned it.”
“Okay.” Lisa put the envelope in her pocket. “But don’t pay me any more. I’ll cover for you until the bake-off’s over and you’re through with…with that other thing you’re working on.”
Hannah nodded. Lisa was the perfect employee, and maybe it was time to think about making her a partner. Between the two of them they could keep The Cookie Jar running smoothly, and they might even be able to take alternate vacations during their slowest month.
But when would that be? Hannah thought about it for a moment, her brow creased in thought. There was always a party or a social event to cater, and people ate cookies year round. Unless every resident of Lake Eden went on a low-carb diet at the same time, they’d never have a slowest month.
Hannah had just emerged from the makeup room, where the experts had touched up her lipstick and attempted to tame her flyaway red hair, when Andrea rushed up.
“There you are! Let’s duck in here where we can be private.” Andrea pulled her inside the ladies’ room. “Lucy’s not here. I’ve looked everywhere. I even asked Bill if she was hanging around the sheriff’s station, and he told me he hadn’t seen her all day.”
Hannah felt her stomach drop with a sickening lurch. She’d really expected Lucy to show up at the bake-off. “Maybe she’s just late?”
“Maybe.” Andrea didn’t look very convinced. “I’ve been thinking about it, Hannah. What if Lucy went home and discovered that her secret drawer was empty? If she thought the police were after her, she could have skipped town.”
Hannah hadn’t thought of that before. “That’s possible, but it doesn’t explain why she didn’t keep her appointment with Norman this morning.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t. Maybe she’s just running late. How about Gil Surma? Did you find out anything interesting?”
Hannah took a moment to fill her in, and she could tell that Andrea was shocked when she mentioned the steroids. “I didn’t believe it either, at first. But Gil said that Boyd was very upset about it.”
“I guess it’s possible,” Andrea admitted. “I just don’t like to think that it could happen in Lake Eden. Gil didn’t know which boy it was?”
“Boyd put it in the form of a hypothetical. He never mentioned the player’s name.”
Andrea sighed. “Well, at least we know he’s a basketball player. How many boys are on The Gulls?”
“Twenty.”
“That many?”
“Yes. Gil said that basketball is Jordan High’s most popular sport. Boyd had five boys on the A Team. They’re the starters. And all the starters have substitutes. That’s ten. Then there’s a B Team and a C Team with five boys on each. We’ve got our work cut out for us, Andrea.”
“I guess. Did you get a list of names?”
“Gil said he’d get it from Charlotte and drop it off at The Cookie Jar in the morning.”
Andrea frowned as she considered how to deal with this new set of facts. “How are we going to find out which player it is? If we call them and ask, we’ll get twenty denials.”
“I know. Actually, I’m not even sure that this has anything to do with Boyd’s murder. It could be a coincidence.”
“It’s no coincidence. The father of the player murdered Boyd before his son could be kicked off the team.”
Hannah was surprised. Andrea sounded very sure of herself. “Do you really think that’s a strong enough motive for murder?”
“Absolutely. High-school basketball is a serious sport in Lake Eden.”
“But would a father go that far?”
“Of course he would. Remember that mother in Texas who killed her daughter’s rival for the cheerleading squad? That wasn’t even half as important as basketball.”
Hannah thought about it for a moment. “The player’s father could have followed Boyd home from the bake-off and tried to convince him not to suspend his son. That would explain the argument that Mr. Gessell heard.”
“And arguments can escalate into full-scale fights. We know that Boyd had a hair-trigger temper. What if the player’s father did, too?”
Hannah had to admit that the scenario made sense. “I guess it could have happened that way. The father could have picked up the hammer and struck out at Boyd in a rage. Maybe he didn’t actually intend to kill him, but he did. And then, when he realized that Boyd was dead, he hightailed it out of there.”
Andrea jumped up and down in excitement. “We did it Hannah! We know who Boyd’s killer is!”
“Not quite yet.” Hannah reached out to restrain her overexuberant sister. “We may know why, but we don’t know who. Get out there and look for Lucy. If you find her, hang on to her until after the show.”
“Okay. But what if Lucy won’t tell us who’s in those pictures?”
Then we’re up the creek, and we’ve wasted a lot of time, Hannah thought. But she didn’t say it because that would be tempting fate. “Don’t worry about that now. Just concentrate on finding Lucy. I’ll get it out of her, one way or the other.”
Rudy, one of the cameramen, caught Hannah as she was about to take her place behind the judging table. “Hey, Hannah. That Hawaiian Flan you made was great.”
“How do you know?”
“Wingo got a phone call right after the broadcast and left his dish on the news desk. I snagged it before he could get back.”
“Good for you.” Hannah gave him a smile. She liked Rudy. He’d explained about the cameras and how she could tell when they were on. She motioned toward one of the huge cameras that were lined up on the set. “Why are these cameras different from the one you use?”
“They’re line-feed. See these cables?”
Hannah spotted the heavy black cables that snaked across the floor. “Where do they go?”
“To the mobile control booth in the production truck. That’s where Mason is during the show. He watches the feed from these cameras on monitors and calls for the camera angles through headsets. He’s the one who decides which feed to broadcast.”
“That sounds like a very difficult job.”
“It is. This is a live show, and he has to make fast decisions. When he calls a shot, it’s broadcast right away.”
Hannah was interested. What she knew about television production could be contained in a thimble with room to spare. “What does your camera do?”
“I shoot the montages we run during the judging. My camera’s called a roving cam, and it’s self-contained. It records on three-quarter-inch tape, and we edit it down later.”
“Edit it down?”
“I shot four hours of footage for tonight’s montage, and it’ll run less than three minutes.”
“That’s an awful lot of tape for a couple of minutes.”
“We always shoot more than we need. That way the editor can pick and choose. I shoot tape of the contestants arriving, the audience filing in, even the wrap parties out at the inn.”
That information gave Hannah an idea. If Rudy shot four hours of tape every day, he could have gotten a picture of the killer and his cuff links. She still intended to get the killer’s name from Lucy, but what if she’d skipped town as Andrea had suggested? They needed a contingency plan. “What happens to all the tape that isn’t used?”
“The outtakes?”
“If that’s what you call them. Do you throw them away?”
Rudy laughed. “At KCOW, we don’t throw anything away. We even recycle our paper clips.”
“Then you tape something else over them?”
“Yes, but not right away. We store them for a while at the station. Then they’re reviewed. If Mason’s sure we won’t need any of the footage, we erase them and use them again.”
“So all your outtakes are back at the station in storage?”
Rudy shook his head. “The tapes are still in the production truck. Why are you so interested?”
“I just find the whole process fascinating,” Hannah said with a smile. “Do you think I co
uld watch them?”
“It’s a lot of tape, and most of it is pretty boring. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Hannah held her breath as she waited for Rudy to answer. This could be very important. Even if she found Lucy and managed to pry the killer’s name from her, seeing the man and his cuff links on tape was a way of proving that Lucy hadn’t lied to them about his identity.
“If you want to be bored, it’s fine with me. But I don’t have the final say. You’ll have to get permission from Mason.”
Hannah flashed him a smile. Rudy had no idea how helpful he’d been. “Thanks, Rudy. I’ll ask Mason right after tonight’s show.”
Hawaiian Flan
Preheat oven to 350° F.,
rack in the middle position.
1 cup white sugar
½ cup water
6 eggs
1 can sweetened, condensed milk (don’t use evaporated—it won’t work)
¼ cup white sugar
1 ½ cups pineapple juice
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 small can crushed pineapple (well drained)
Sweetened whipped cream topping (optional)
Find an 8-inch-by-8-inch square pan (either metal or glass) or any other oven pan that will hold 6 cups of liquid. Do not grease or butter it. Simply have it ready, next to the stove top.
Combine one cup of white sugar with a half cup of water in a saucepan. Bring it to a boil, stirring at first, then swishing it around until the mixture turns golden brown. (This gets as hot as candy syrup so wear oven mitts.)
Carefully, pour the syrup into the pan you’ve chosen and tip it to coat the bottom and the sides. This is your caramel sauce. (Be very careful. This is extremely hot.) Run water in the saucepan you used and set it in the sink. Then set the baking pan aside while you make the custard. (You may hear cracking noises as the caramel cools. Don’t worry. It’s the caramel cracking, not your pan.)
Beat the eggs until they’re light yellow and thick. (This will take a while if you don’t have an electric mixer.) Add the sweetened condensed milk, the sugar, the salt, and the pineapple juice, and beat thoroughly.
Get out a strainer and strain this mixture into your baking pan.
Find a larger baking pan that will contain your custard pan with at least an inch to spare on all four sides. Place the custard pan inside the larger pan. Slip both pans into the oven and pour hot tap water in the larger pan, enough to immerse your custard pan halfway up the sides.
Bake one hour, or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.
Remove the custard pan from the water and let it cool on a wire rack for at least 10 minutes. (This custard can be served either warm, or cold.)
To serve, turn the custard out in a flat bowl or a plate with a deep lip. (This is so the caramel sauce won’t overflow.) Place slices of custard in a dessert dish and sprinkle some of the crushed pineapple over the top. Then spoon on some of the caramel sauce and top with whipped cream, if you wish.
Delores prefers this custard chilled. Andrea says it’s best at room temperature, and I like it warm.
Chapter Seventeen
Tonight’s winner had been a man, and Hannah was glad. Baking was an equal-opportunity avocation. Once the retired army master sergeant had accepted his finalist ribbon, Clayton Hart had reminded the audience that tomorrow was the final night of the Hartland Flour Dessert Bake-Off. The show would be a full hour, and the three finalists would actually bake on camera. Each contestant would be taped live, and the tape would be shown on three giant screens that would be suspended from the ceiling, a technique that KCOW producer Mason Kimball had devised so that the audience could watch their every move.
When the show was over, Hannah turned to Edna Ferguson. “Did you mean what you said about Sergeant Hogarth’s cinnamon buns?”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t,” Edna replied, “and I’ll say it again. His cinnamon buns are even better than mine.”
“And you make the best cinnamon buns in town.” Hannah’s stomach growled just thinking about them. She hadn’t eaten since Sally’s lunch buffet, if you didn’t count the tiny samples of desserts she’d judged, and she was ravenous. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to eat now. She had to find Andrea to see if her sister had managed to locate the elusive Lucy Richards, and then she had to run out to the production truck to ask Mason Kimball for permission to review Rudy’s outtakes.
“Are you going out to the inn for the wrap party?” Edna asked.
“Not tonight. I’ve got more things to do than there are hours left in the day.” Hannah stood up and straightened the skirt of her new suit. It was a color Claire had called “bracken,” a shade midway between a brown and an orange. Hannah had balked at even trying it on. Anything orange clashed with her hair. But Claire had insisted, and it really did look stunning on her.
Andrea was waving from the wings, and Lucy wasn’t with her. Hannah headed off in her sister’s direction with a frown on her face. Either Lucy had skipped town or she was…Hannah stopped herself in mid-thought and repeated her father’s standard maxim. There was no sense in borrowing trouble. Of course, her father had lived with Delores all those years, and he didn’t have to borrow trouble; it had resided right under his roof.
“Lucy’s not here,” Andrea reported as soon as Hannah was close enough to hear her, “but I can help you look for her. Bill has to go back to the station and Tracey wants to stay with Grandma again.”
Hannah knew what her sister was asking. Andrea needed to be needed again. “That’s great, Andrea. I could really use your help.”
Andrea’s face lit up with a smile. “What are we doing first?”
“I have to run out to the production truck for a minute. You can wait for me in the lobby. Ask around about Lucy. Maybe somebody’s spotted her.”
“I did that already.” Andrea sounded a bit petulant. “Nobody has.”
Hannah reached into her purse and pulled out her keys. “All right. Then see if you can snag somebody to carry my boxes out to the truck. That’ll save us some time.”
“Okay.” Andrea looked much happier as she grabbed the keys. “I like to be helpful.”
“You’re helpful, believe me. And if you want to help even more, pull around the building and park next to the production truck. That’ll save us even more time.”
Hannah filed her discovery about Andrea away for future reference as she headed out the back door and dashed across the parking lot to the KCOW production truck. Her sister needed to be needed, and she liked to be helpful. She just hoped that Andrea still wanted to be helpful after they’d watched four hours of Rudy’s outtakes.
Mason Kimball was just coming down the metal steps when Hannah reached the production truck. He looked tired, and there were dark circles under his eyes. “Hi, Hannah. What are you doing out here?”
“I talked to Rudy before the show,” Hannah told him, going into her rehearsed speech. “He told me all about how you make the montage, and I’d really like to watch his outtakes if you don’t mind.”
“You want to watch all of Rudy’s outtakes? There’s over twelve hours.”
Hannah tried for a guileless expression. “I’d like to, but I don’t have twelve hours to spare. I’m really more interested in the footage that Rudy shot on Wednesday. I thought that montage was the best.”
Mason began to frown, and Hannah knew he hadn’t bought her excuse. “Wednesday was the night that Boyd Watson judged the contest. Does this have anything to do with his murder?”
“Of course not,” Hannah lied through her teeth. “I’m just interested in Rudy’s outtakes. I think he’s very talented.”
Mason’s frown grew deeper. “He is, but nobody’s that interested in outtakes. I think you’d better tell me what you’re really after. Are you working with the sheriff’s department again?”
“No, and I wasn’t working with them before,” Hannah declared honestly. She hadn’t been exactly working with the sheriff’s department;
she’d been working with Bill.
“But I heard you solved Ron LaSalle’s murder.”
“Bill solved it, not me. I just happened to overhear something that helped him, that’s all.”
Mason shook his head like a dog coming out of the lake, not quite as fast, but just as definite. “No way, Hannah. I’m not getting in the middle here. If you don’t tell me exactly why you want to watch the outtakes, I can’t let you do it.”
“Okay.” Hannah sighed deeply. She wasn’t about to mention the pictures that Lucy had taken of the murder and her search for the killer’s cuff links, but she had to tell Mason something convincing. “Look, Mason. I know it’s a long shot, but maybe there’s some footage of Boyd before the contest started. Rudy told me he taped the audience coming in. If Boyd stopped to talk to anyone, Bill and Mike should know about it. Then they can interview that person and find out about Boyd’s state of mind and what he said.”
Mason thought about it for a minute. “Okay. I don’t remember any footage of Boyd, but I didn’t watch the whole thing.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Sure. I don’t have any objections. There’s only one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll have to watch the tapes tonight.”
Hannah groaned. “Tonight?”
“I’m afraid so. Tomorrow’s the final day of the contest, and we’ll be so busy, I won’t be able to spare anyone to help you.”
“Can’t I do it alone?”
“No. The engineer will have to find the right tapes for you and load them. You’ll be using a sophisticated piece of equipment, and he’ll have to teach you what to do. It’s possible we’ll need some of that footage for the final montage. I can’t take the chance that you’ll accidentally erase it.”