Blackberry Pie Murder (A Hannah Swensen Mystery)

Home > Other > Blackberry Pie Murder (A Hannah Swensen Mystery) > Page 28
Blackberry Pie Murder (A Hannah Swensen Mystery) Page 28

by Fluke, Joanne


  “Did I hear you say pralines?” Connor appeared in the doorway.

  “Nothin’ wrong with the man’s ears,” Winnie said, smiling at him and then turning back to Hannah. “Coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”

  Hannah counted the days. Winnie always washed the giant, blue-enameled pot and made fresh coffee on Sunday mornings. On the other days of the week, she just kept the pot on the stove until the level of coffee was low and then she added more coffee and water, and brought it up to a boil again. By Saturday, Winnie’s coffee could double as nail polish remover. Hannah and Mike had suffered through a Saturday night cup once and neither one of them had done it again. Winnie claimed that her mother had made coffee that way and she didn’t see any reason to change it.

  This was Thursday and that was over halfway through the week. She was living dangerously if she accepted Winnie’s offer, but it wouldn’t be politic to refuse. “Sure,” she said. “I’d love a cup of coffee, Winnie.”

  Winnie poured cups for all three of them and they sat at the kitchen table. They talked for a minute or two and then Hannah pulled out the ring.

  “I found this on the way in,” she said, handing the ring to Winnie. “It looks like a man’s ring to me. Did somebody around here lose it?”

  “Looks like yours.” Winnie handed it to Connor.

  As Hannah watched, Connor’s face turned pale. “It’s mine,” he admitted.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d lost it?” Winnie asked. “I would’ve put the boys on lookout for it.”

  “ ’Cause I wasn’t sure . . .” Connor stopped and took a deep breath. “I didn’t know where I’d lost it.” He turned to Hannah. “Where did you find it?”

  “In the woods right next to the place where I hit Keith Branson with my truck.”

  Connor’s face turned even paler. “Yup,” he said. “I was afraid of that.”

  “What were you doing there?” Winnie asked.

  Connor sighed again. It was the sigh of a man who knew he’d been caught red-handed, doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. “I was fighting with him,” he told her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Winnie’s eyes flashed angrily.

  “Because you said you could never love a fighting man. And I want you to love me, Winnie.”

  Hannah could see the angry expression on Winnie’s face fade. “Why did you fight with him, Connor?”

  “He was dragging a woman through the woods. I came across them at the fence line so I jumped the fence and punched him. And then I punched him again so hard that it knocked him out.”

  “He was hurting a woman?” Winnie waited until Connor nodded and then she got up, went around the table, and hugged him. “Who was it?”

  “I don’t know. I never saw her before, but she was scared. I know that. And the minute I pulled him away from her, she ran away.”

  “You dummy!” Winnie said, and there was love in her voice. “When I said I could never love a fighting man, I meant a man who was a bully and picked fights. I never meant you shouldn’t fight to defend a woman. That’s what a man ought’a do.”

  “I’ve got to go,” Hannah said, standing up. “I’ll let myself out. I’ve got somebody else I have to see. Enjoy those pralines, both of you.”

  “I didn’t know you liked pralines,” Winnie said as Hannah left the table.

  “I love ’em. I had some in New Orleans when I was there for the PBR Rodeo.”

  “What’s PBR?”

  “Professional Bull Riders. They put on events at the New Orleans Arena.”

  “You were a bull rider?” Winnie sounded impressed.

  “That was my dad, not me. I’ve always been partial to horses.”

  Hannah pulled open the front door and went out. One part of her investigation was over. She now knew that Connor had been the man who’d delivered the lethal blow to Keith Branson’s head. She hadn’t seen any reason to tell Connor or Winnie that, not when she was the one who hit him with her truck and actually killed him. Connor had defended an unknown woman in the woods. And Hannah thought she knew exactly who that woman was.

  EASY PRALINES

  1 cup buttermilk

  2 and ½ cups white (granulated) sugar

  1 teaspoon baking soda

  2 Tablespoons dark corn syrup (I used Karo Dark)

  ½ cup salted butter (1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound) at room temperature

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  1 cup pecan pieces OR 1 cup pecan halves (Halves are fancier, but also more expensive.)

  Before you start, get out a 4-quart saucepan and spray the inside with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray. Make sure to spray the sides of the saucepan. Get out your candy thermometer. Place the thermometer inside the saucepan with the sliding clamp on the outside. Slide the thermometer through the clamp until it’s approximately one-half inch from the bottom of the pan. (If the bulb touches the bottom of the pan, your reading will be wildly off.)

  Take the candy thermometer out of the pan, making sure you don’t move the sliding clamp. You’ll be attaching it again later.

  In the saucepan, on a cold burner, combine the buttermilk, white sugar, baking soda, and dark corn syrup. Stir the mixture until it is smooth.

  Hannah’s 1st Note: If you do this step ahead of time and let everything come up to room temperature in the saucepan, it will take only 3 minutes or so to come to the boil and you’ll cut your standing at the stove and stirring time in half.

  Turn your burner on MEDIUM HIGH heat. STIR the candy mixture CONSTANTLY until it boils. (This will take about 6 minutes if you decided NOT to let the ingredients come up to room temperature, so pull up a stool and get comfortable while you stir.)

  When the mixture boils, move the saucepan to a cold burner, but don’t turn off the hot burner. You’ll be getting right back to it.

  Add the butter to your candy mixture and stir it in. Stir until the butter is melted.

  Carefully attach the candy thermometer to the pan again, making sure it hasn’t moved up or down from its earlier position. Wiggle it slightly to make sure it’s not scraping the bottom of the pan.

  Slide the saucepan back on the hot burner and watch it cook. STIRRING IS NOT NECESSARY FROM THIS POINT ON. Just give it a little mix when you feel like it. Pull up a stool and relax. Enjoy a cup of coffee while you wait for the candy thermometer to come up to the 240 degree F. mark. (240 degrees F. is the soft ball stage in candy making.)

  When your thermometer reaches 240 degrees F., give the pan a final stir, turn off the burner, and remove your saucepan from the heat. Stir in the vanilla extract. (This could sputter a bit so be careful.)

  Let the pan cool on a wire rack or a cold burner for 10 minutes. (If it’s a hot day and it’s hot in your kitchen, you’d better give it 15 minutes.)

  While your candy cools, lay out sheets of wax paper on a cutting board or a bread board. Then sit down and relax until the cooling time is up.

  When your praline mixture has cooled the required number of minutes, beat it with a wooden spoon until it loses its glossy look and thickens. (My candy took approximately 5 minutes to reach this stage.)

  Quickly stir in the pecans.

  Use a tablespoon from your silverware drawer to drop the Easy Pralines on the wax paper. Don’t worry if your pralines are not of a uniform size. Once your guests taste them, they’ll be hunting for the bigger pieces.

  Yield: 2 dozen of the best pralines you’ve ever tasted.

  Hannah’s 2nd Note: Andrea adores this candy. She asks me to make it for her every Christmas. Michelle likes it too, but she wants me to substitute a teaspoon of maple extract for the vanilla extract. She’s made it that way and she says it tastes a lot like the candy we used to get from Canada that was shaped like little maple leaves. Mother loves this candy, but she wants me to try dipping it in melted chocolate. That doesn’t surprise me. Mother is a confirmed chocoholic.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  It took less than three minutes to get to Lorett
a’s land. Hannah passed more deeply wooded areas and barbed wire fences until she came to Loretta’s mailbox. She turned down a winding gravel road and drove until she saw the pale blue farmhouse in the distance.

  She stopped by a massive oak tree and took several deep, calming breaths. She was almost at the farmhouse and she wanted a clear head to ask the questions that she needed to ask Jennifer.

  Hannah had no sooner pulled up in front of the farmhouse when the front door opened and a pretty young woman came out. It was the same young woman Hannah had seen when she’d driven past from the opposite direction on her way to Winnie’s ranch with Mike.

  “Hi, Hannah!” the young woman greeted her. “Mom said you liked coffee so I put on a fresh pot. Come into the kitchen.”

  She’s friendly, Hannah thought, turning off the ignition and following Jennifer up the sidewalk to the house. “It’s nice to meet you, Jennifer,” she said, as Jennifer walked through the living room and led Hannah to the kitchen.

  “Mom said you took it black,” Jennifer said, waiting for Hannah’s nod before she brought Hannah’s cup of coffee to the kitchen table. “Sit down. Mom was absurdly pleased that you remembered how she took her coffee. She told me all about it.”

  “That’s nice,” Hannah said, but her mind was taking a very different approach. Better take control, it told her. Jennifer’s trying to run the show and you can’t let her do that.

  “So Jennifer,” Hannah said, motioning to the chair across the table. “Is it good to be home after all these years?”

  “Oh, yes! It’s just wonderful to see Mom again. And Carly! She’s all grown up now and she was so little when I left.”

  Get her, Hannah’s mind said quite unnecessarily because Hannah had already thought of her next comment. She smiled and delivered the first pitch. “It must be a little shocking for you to see her now, considering that Carly was only a toddler when you left.”

  “Oh, she wasn’t a toddler. Carly was five when I left,” Jennifer said, her bat connecting solidly with Hannah’s pitch.

  “Carly wasn’t five. She was four,” Hannah corrected her, watching the pitch Jennifer had hit roll foul. “You should have remembered that since you baked the cake for her party and put a big number four on it.”

  Jennifer seemed at a loss for words and Hannah announced the play in her head. Foul ball. The count is no balls, one strike.

  “Of course you’re right. I just forgot for a moment.” Jennifer looked a bit uncomfortable. “Mom said you own a wonderful cookie and coffee shop in town.”

  “It’s nice of her to say that,” Hannah responded. “As a matter of fact, I brought you some cookies.” She produced the bakery box, set it on the table, and raised the lid. “I call these Yummy Yam Cookies. They’re made with sweet potatoes or yams and marshmallows.”

  “That sounds wonderful!” Jennifer said, smiling broadly. “I just love sweet potatoes and yams.”

  Strike two! Hannah’s mind kept the tally as Jennifer’s bat failed to connect with Hannah’s second pitch. Carly had told Hannah and Michelle that Jennifer hated sweet potatoes and yams. But was Jennifer just being polite? Hannah had to make sure.

  Hannah watched Jennifer reach for a cookie and eat it eagerly. “These are great cookies!” she said.

  “Thanks,” Hannah answered, but her mind was announcing the progress of the game. If the batter takes another Yummy Yam Cookie, the count is no balls, two strikes. And Jennifer reached for another cookie.

  One more strike and she had her! Hannah got ready to throw the next pitch. She hadn’t asked about Jennifer’s new bedspread yet. “I hear you’re back in your old room,” she said, watching Jennifer reach for a third cookie. For a girl who hadn’t liked sweet potatoes and had hidden her portion in her napkin, this was a telltale sign.

  “Yes. Everything’s just the same, except for the bedspread, of course. And the clothes in the closet don’t exactly fit me anymore.”

  “The bedspread is different?” Hannah asked, picking up on what she knew to be an untruth.

  “Yes. Oh, it’s the same design as the one I had when I left home, but Mom found the same material and made me a new one.”

  Hannah felt like groaning, but she managed to keep the pleasant expression on her face. She thought her last pitch would strike Jennifer out of the game, but she’d managed to fend it off. Foul ball, the announcer in Hannah’s mind called out. The count remains at no balls, two strikes. Jennifer was staying in the batter’s box for another pitch, at least.

  After five more pitches and five more foul balls, Hannah was getting desperate. No matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to get Jennifer to completely strike out. If she searched her heart, she’d have to side with Carly. She didn’t think that Jennifer was her sister. But there was nothing in Jennifer’s manner or demeanor that branded her as a liar. There was another emotion beneath her exterior, something Hannah was searching to identify. It was a powerful emotion, one that could drive a person to lie. But what was it?

  The answer came to her when Jennifer picked up her coffee cup. Her hands were trembling and Hannah realized what was driving this young woman to lie. It was fear! Jennifer was terrified of something or someone. It was time to pull the best pitch out of her arsenal and force Jennifer to tell her why she was terrified. Whatever the source, it had convinced Loretta to lie for her, and to pretend that Jennifer was her daughter. Hannah knew that she could keep pitching and Jennifer could keep fighting off her pitches longer than Hannah wanted to play the game. Then nothing would be accomplished. Alternatively, Hannah could borrow a tactic from the Twins game she’d seen. She could throw a wild pitch and see what happened.

  “I’m so glad you like these cookies,” Hannah said. “I almost brought you some Treasure Chest Cookies instead.”

  “I love these, but the Treasure Chest Cookies sound interesting, too. What are they?”

  “They’re a basic sugar cookie dough with a hidden surprise baked inside. I used miniature Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in the last batch I made.”

  “That would be incredibly good!” Jennifer’s hands stopped trembling for several seconds as she thought about it. “I just love the combination of peanut butter and chocolate. I used to make myself peanut butter and chocolate fudge sandwiches. I bought the fudge ice cream topping, you know? It’s not expensive and it goes a long way. And it’s so good! I remember one week when I ate peanut butter and chocolate fudge sandwiches three meals a day.”

  Strike three, batter out! the announcer in Hannah’s mind declared. Team Hannah has won the game!

  “Okay, that’s it,” Hannah said, grabbing Jennifer’s hand and holding it tightly. “I know you’re not Jennifer Richardson. And I can tell you’re terrified. I also know you convinced Loretta to lie and say you’re her daughter. I’m wise to you Jennifer, or whatever your name is, and you have to tell me what’s going on if you want me to help you out of the jam you’re obviously in.”

  “And what if I don’t want your help?” Jennifer’s voice was shaking, but she’d obviously chosen to take the high ground. “What are you going to do then?”

  “I’ll call my friend Mike at the Winnetka County Sheriff’s Department. And I’ll tell him exactly what happened here this afternoon. I’m sure he’ll be happy to take you right back to your corner on Munsington Street so that you can go back to work and deal with Lady Die all by yourself.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Of course Jennifer had caved in. She was too frightened to do anything else. And Hannah’s head was swimming as she drove back to her condo. What Jennifer had told her wasn’t exactly a surprise. Mike had often said that there were no coincidences in homicide investigations and this investigation had turned out to be a homicide. It was a homicide that hadn’t occurred in Lake Eden, but it was a homicide nonetheless.

  The real truth was even more shocking than Hannah had imagined. The woman who’d pretended to be Loretta’s daughter had been the real Jennifer’s best friend when they were on
the streets together in Minneapolis. They’d both been in Keith Branson’s stable and neither one of them had seen any way out of the life they’d been duped into leading. Loretta’s daughter had been known as Sugar, and Sugar was dead. Keith Branson and Lady Die had beaten Sugar so badly when Sugar had attempted to come back home that she’d died of her injuries. The woman who’d pretended to be Jennifer was Honey and she’d been the one to find Sugar after the beating. Honey had managed to move Sugar to an abandoned building and she’d done her best to nurse her back to health. Nothing Honey had done had helped, but at least Sugar had been comforted by a friend when she’d died.

  It had taken Sugar five days to succumb and she’d talked about her happy memories of Loretta and Carly at home in Lake Eden. It had seemed idyllic to Honey who had never known more than a series of foster homes before she had run away with Keith. Near the end of Sugar’s brief and unhappy life, she had made Honey promise that she would go to Lake Eden and tell Loretta how much she regretted what she had done and how she’d never stopped loving her mother and her little sister.

  Honey had used the last of her money to buy a bus ticket to Lake Eden. In reality, she’d had no choice. Keith and Lady Die were already searching for her and she knew exactly what would happen if they found her.

  Hannah looked over at her passenger. Honey was crying softly. “When did you tell Loretta?” she asked her.

  “The first day when I got there. Carly was at work and I told Loretta everything. She invited me to stay right there at the farm. She said she’d figure everything out and the farm was the safest place for me. Since I looked so much like Sugar, she said to pretend I was her daughter.”

 

‹ Prev