Coconut Layer Cake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  Hannah waited as Robby crossed the room and went out the door, closing it behind him. Then she made quick work of unpacking and hanging what needed to be hung in her closet. Once her other clothing had been stashed in the dresser by the bed, she rolled her suitcases into the closet and went off to take a quick shower and change into the outfit that Robby had deemed appropriate.

  Chapter Three

  “Oh, Hannah! You look absolutely lovely,” Lynne complimented her as Hannah came down the stairs.

  Hannah remembered what her mother had taught her about accepting compliments and gave Lynne a big smile. “Thanks, Lynne,” she accepted the compliment gracefully. “Mother gave this to me for my birthday.”

  “It’s perfect for you.” Lynne took the cookie tin that Hannah handed to her. “Cookies?”

  “No, I made Chocolate Peanut Butter Toffee for you.”

  A broad smile spread over Lynne’s face as she pried off the lid and looked inside the round tin. “This is my very favorite candy! You used to make this for me every Christmas when we were in college.”

  “It’s a little different this year because I couldn’t find Nabisco Chocolate Wafers.”

  “But it looks like there’s chocolate on top.”

  “There is. I melted chocolate and drizzled it on the top.”

  “It’s pretty.” Lynne took a small piece of toffee and bit into it. “It’s just as good without the chocolate wafers, Hannah. Actually, it may be better. It tastes like there’s more chocolate.”

  “That’s because there is more chocolate. I used a layer of chocolate chips on top of the crackers.”

  “There’s more salt, too. And I like it.”

  “I used Club Crackers and they’re salted. The salt side is up and that adds more flavor to the chocolate.”

  “You’re right. It’s just wonderful!” Lynne reached for another piece and stopped herself just in time. “I’d better save this for later or I won’t be hungry when we get to the restaurant.”

  Hannah motioned to the staircase as she spotted her mother. “There’s Mother. It looks like she did something to her hair.”

  “My guess is Maria had something to do with that,” Lynne told her. “She was a beautician before she married Robby.”

  Hannah didn’t comment aloud, but she wondered if Maria could do something to improve her hairstyle. She’d often joked that she should start using a curry comb on her hair. Unlike Delores with her dark hair, her younger, light blond sister Andrea, and Michele, the youngest of the Swensen sisters, whose nickname had been Jeanie with the light brown hair, Hannah had inherited her father’s almost unmanageable curly red hair, along with his physique. Lars Swensen had been tall and burly with a tendency to put on weight. Hannah, unlike her mother and sisters, was quite tall and what her mother politely called substantial. Delores had declared once that Hannah could put on several pounds just walking past the candy store at the mall and staring at the display in the window.

  “Am I late?” Delores asked, crossing the room to join them.

  “Not at all,” Lynne assured her.

  “I’m here, Mrs. Larchmont.” Robby appeared in the hallway. “I have the car out front if you ladies are ready to go.”

  “We are,” Lynne said. “Perfect timing, Robby. I know that Hannah and Delores must be starving after having nothing but airplane food all day.”

  * * *

  “Good heavens!” Delores gasped, catching sight of the woman who’d just walked into the French Room. “Is that . . .”

  “Leslie Towers?” Lynne guessed.

  “Yes! I saw her in Peachtree Forever and she was just wonderful! It’s not polite to ask for an autograph, is it?”

  Lynne shook her head. “No, but that’s not Leslie Towers. Everyone always thinks that, but her name is Gloria Denning and she’s my neighbor.”

  Delores looked disappointed, but then her expression changed to one Hannah could only classify as cagey. “I don’t suppose she’d pose for a photo with me, would she?”

  Lynne laughed. “Only if you promise to tell people she’s Leslie Towers. Gloria loves to do that, but she draws the line at signing Leslie’s name if people ask her for an autograph. Shall I ask her if she’d like to have lunch with us so that we can take a few photos?”

  “That would be wonderful!”

  Delores answered immediately and Hannah began to grin. Doc had been right. It was clear that her mother was starstruck.

  “I’ll be right back,” Lynne said, rising from the table and hurrying to intercept her neighbor. After a short conversation, Gloria came back to the table with Lynne.

  “Gloria won’t be joining us for lunch,” Lynne told them after she’d introduced them.

  “It would have been fun, but I’m meeting someone in a few minutes,” Gloria explained. “I’ll be happy to pose for photos, though. It’s fun to pretend to be someone famous.”

  Hannah watched as Lynne posed Gloria and her mother, and took the photos. She could tell that her mother was having the time of her life, and she wouldn’t be surprised if Delores went straight down to Rod at the Lake Eden Journal when she got home and asked Rod Metcalf to put one of the photos in their hometown newspaper.

  “How about you, Hannah?” Gloria asked when the photos with Delores had been taken. “Would you like to pose with me?”

  For a moment, Hannah wasn’t sure what to say. Would Gloria be insulted if she said that she really wasn’t interested in having her photo taken with famous people, either lookalikes or real celebrities? Luckily, the perfect answer occurred to her.

  “Thanks so much for offering, but I wouldn’t want to spoil my mother’s exciting moment. I’ll be happy to let her have all the celebrity photo-ops for today.”

  * * *

  Lunch had been wonderful, but Hannah noticed that her mother’s eyes had closed several times during their trip back to Brentwood. “Are you tired, Mother?” she asked as they entered the house.

  “Yes, I am,” Delores admitted. “I was up late last night, waiting for Doc to come back from the hospital, and I didn’t sleep well. If you girls don’t mind, I think I’ll go up to my room and take a nap.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Lynne said. “Traveling can be very tiring and it’s been a long day for you.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll do as long as you don’t need me,” Delores declared, heading for the staircase.

  “Are you tired, too?” Lynne asked Hannah.

  “Not really. I think I got my second wind. Of course, sleeping all the way here on the plane might have something to do with it.”

  “As long as you’re not as exhausted as your mother, stay and have another glass of champagne with me.”

  “That sounds nice, but just one glass,” Hannah told her.

  Lynne stood up and motioned to Hannah. “Let’s go in the den. It’s cozier. And we can have some of your Chocolate Peanut Butter Toffee for dessert. I carried it in there before we left the house and it’ll go well with champagne.”

  Hannah followed Lynne down a long hallway. There was a door at the end and Lynne pushed it open. “Here’s where I come to study my lines. Have a seat, Hannah. I’ll get the champagne.”

  There were two leather chairs in front of the fireplace with a small table between them. Hannah took one and waited while Lynne opened a small refrigerator and took out a bottle of champagne. She opened it, poured two glasses, and carried them over to the small table. “It’s Taittinger,” she said. “That’s my favorite champagne. If your mother had joined us, I would have opened a bottle of Perrier Jouët.”

  “Mother’s favorite,” Hannah confirmed it with a nod.

  Lynne sat down in the second chair. “Do you have a favorite champagne?”

  “Not really. I don’t know that much about champagne. Norman’s the expert when it comes to things like that.”

  “But Norman doesn’t drink . . . does he?”

  “No, but he’s still an expert.” Hannah didn’t go into details about th
e reason that Norman didn’t touch alcohol. He’d told her, but that was a confidence between the two of them and she wasn’t about to break it. “Norman brought me a bottle of champagne called . . .” Hannah stopped, trying to remember. “It was French, and he said some people referred to it as The Widow.”

  Lynne nodded. “Veuve Clicquot. That nickname refers to a woman who inherited a winery from her husband and made their champagne into a success. Which champagne do you like best, Hannah? Norman’s or mine?”

  “I don’t know. I think I’d need to have them side by side to compare them. I like your champagne very much, though.”

  “Good. I was hoping you would. Let’s have a fire in the fireplace. It’s a little chilly here today.”

  Hannah’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. It seemed nice and warm to her, but perhaps Lynne had lost her tolerance for cold since she’d lived in California for so long.

  “This is so handy,” Lynne said, picking up the remote control that sat on the table, the one Hannah had assumed would operate the flat-screen television set on the wall. But Lynne didn’t swivel in her leather chair to face the television set. “Are you going to turn on the television?” Hannah asked, thoroughly puzzled.

  “No, just watch. I think you’ll enjoy this,” Lynne told her, aiming the control at the fireplace and pressing a button.

  Hannah watched as the multicolored crystals in the bed of the fireplace began to glow. A moment later, small flames licked up between the crystals to make the colors even brighter.

  Hannah knew she must have looked every bit as amazed as she felt. “That’s beautiful!” she breathed.

  “I know. This is the place I always sat when Tom was gone. And he wasn’t here with me very often. He had a luxury apartment downtown in the financial district and when he wasn’t traveling, he spent most nights there.”

  “Why?” Hannah asked, and then she wished she hadn’t asked. Perhaps the reason was too personal for Lynne to divulge. “Sorry,” she apologized. “If you don’t want to tell me, I’ll understand.”

  “That’s okay. I can tell you.” Lynne paused to take a deep breath. “I asked Tom why he bought the apartment and Tom told me that sometimes he was really tired after a late meeting with a client and it was exhausting to drive back here if the traffic was heavy.”

  Hannah was surprised. “The traffic here is that bad?”

  “It can be, especially coming from downtown if there’s a convention or a sports event.”

  “Did Tom ever take you to see the apartment?”

  “Yes, it’s on the top floor and it’s completely renovated. The view is just breathtaking.”

  “And you helped him furnish it?”

  Lynne shook her head. “No, he bought it completely furnished from a stockbroker he knew. Tom said the man made a fortune in hedge funds. He was moving to London and he planned to buy new furniture when he got there.”

  “I guess that makes sense. It probably costs a lot to move furniture to another country.”

  “Yes, it does. I believed the whole story until Tom showed me the bedroom.” Lynne paused to take a sip of her champagne. “The first thing I noticed was the red velvet bedspread on the bed. Tom doesn’t like red. It’s his least favorite color. When we furnished this house, he told me not to buy anything red.”

  “Did you ask Tom about the red bedspread?”

  “Yes, the second I saw it. He said he hadn’t gotten around to replacing it yet, but this was a good three months after he’d bought the place. I found it hard to believe that someone like Tom, who hated the color red that much, would wait that long.”

  “Perhaps he was too busy with his clients?” Hannah suggested.

  “That’s the excuse he used. But then I noticed the bottle of perfume on the dresser. I’m almost certain that the stockbroker who’d owned the apartment wouldn’t have worn Chanel.”

  “Oh, dear! Did you ask Tom about it?”

  “No, I didn’t mention it.”

  “Why?”

  “I really didn’t want to know, at least not for sure. Then, when Tom started spending more and more time at his apartment and less and less time with me at home, I knew our marriage was falling apart.”

  “And that’s why you wanted Tom to come to Lake Eden with you?”

  “Yes, I hoped that we could work things out, but . . . that didn’t happen. I’m just glad that Tom gave me this house when we got married. I’m working with a real-estate agent and she’s going to sell it for me.”

  “But . . . will you need money to move?”

  “No, I’m okay financially, Hannah. Most of the commercials I’ve done have gone nationwide and the residuals are good. I used the signing bonus that Gibson Girl Cosmetics gave me as a down payment on Tori Bascomb’s condo.”

  “So you won’t have to work?”

  “Oh, I’ll want to work eventually, but I have enough for this move. I’m not going to take any of the big furniture, just some small pieces that I don’t want to leave behind. Everything else can be sold with the house.”

  “So we’re just packing dishes and things like that?”

  “Yes, and I’m going to take some of the artwork that I especially like. I have to remember that I’m downsizing and there’s not room for everything in the condo. That’s one of the reasons I asked you and Delores to come out here and help me. You and your mother have been in Tori Bascomb’s condo, and you can help me judge what will fit and what won’t.”

  Hannah thought about that for a moment. “Mother will be better at that than I will. She spent a lot of time at Tori’s condo. They used to have coffee every morning.”

  “I know. She told me. But there’s a second reason I wanted you to come out here, Hannah.”

  “What is it?”

  “I need to find out if we can still be friends after what happened. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want anything to do with me.” Lynne took a deep breath and Hannah could see that she was upset. “After all, Hannah . . . my husband, Tom, did some horrible things. And I was so immersed in my own problems, I didn’t even suspect that Tom was involved!”

  “Of course you didn’t!” Hannah reached out to pat Lynne’s arm. “I didn’t suspect Tom, either. I had no idea it was Tom until I put all the pieces together that day at The Cookie Jar.”

  “Then you’re not mad at me for failing to warn you? Or to tell you something that might have made you suspect that you were in danger?”

  Hannah shook her head. “Of course not! I didn’t suspect what Ross had done, either. It’s almost impossible to suspect someone you love and trust enough to marry.”

  Lynne looked thoughtful. “I guess you’re right. I’m sorry, Hannah. If I’d known, or if I’d had even the slightest suspicion, I would have told you.”

  “I know,” Hannah said, and then she smiled. “So we’re still good friends, right?”

  “The best!” Lynne gave her a happy smile.

  “Good, because I need to ask you for a favor.”

  “Of course. What is it?”

  “Don’t let Mother see your fireplace.”

  It was clear from her expression that she was puzzled. “Why not?”

  “Because she’ll want one just like it. And she’ll needle Doc until he goes out and orders one for her.”

  CHOCOLATE PEANUT BUTTER TOFFEE

  Preheat oven to 350°F., rack in the middle position.

  16-ounce box Club Crackers (mine were made by Keebler)

  1 cup milk chocolate chips (you’ll use a total of 2 cups—I used Nestlé)

  1 cup salted butter, softened to room temperature (2 sticks, ½ pound)

  1 cup brown sugar (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

  1 cup milk chocolate chips (this completes the milk chocolate chip total)

  2 cups peanut butter chips (10-ounce bag will do—I used Reese’s)

  ½ cup chopped salted peanuts (NOT dry roasted— measure AFTER chopping—I used Planters)

  Hannah’s 1st Note: There a
re three packets in a 13-ounce box of Club Crackers. You’ll use only one packet. You can buy a smaller box if you can find it, but you can always use extra crackers, right? If you can’t find Club Crackers at your store, you can use any brand of salted soda crackers. Your goal is to cover the bottom of the pan as completely as you can with something both crispy and salty.

  Line a 10-inch by 15-inch cookie sheet with foil. If you have a jellyroll pan, that’s perfect. If you don’t, use a cookie sheet and turn up the edges of the foil to form sides.

  Spray the foil with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray. (You want to be able to peel the foil off later, after the toffee hardens.)

  Line the bottom of your pan completely with Club Crackers, salt side down. (You can break the crackers in pieces to make them fit if you have to.)

  Sprinkle 1 (only ONE) cup of milk chocolate chips over the surface of the cracker-lined pan.

  Set the jelly roll pan or cookie sheet aside on the kitchen counter while you cook the toffee mixture.

  Hannah’s 2nd Note: GOOD NEWS! You don’t need a candy thermometer to make this toffee.

  Combine the salted butter with the brown sugar in a medium-size saucepan. Stir until they are thoroughly mixed.

  Hannah’s 3rd Note: I use my Great-Grandmother Elsa’s wooden spoon to do this, but you can also use a heat-resistant rubber spatula if you wish.

  Set the saucepan on the stovetop and turn the burner to MEDIUM-HIGH. STIRRING CONSTANTLY, bring the toffee mixture to a boil.

  Boil for exactly 5 (five) minutes. Keep that spoon or spatula going! If you don’t, your toffee will burn! If the toffee mixture sputters too much, you can reduce the heat a bit. If the mixture begins to lose the boil, you can increase the heat a bit. Just don’t stop stirring until you’ve boiled it for 5 minutes.