Coconut Layer Cake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “What?” Norman asked when she stopped speaking.

  “Do you think I’m a snoop?” Hannah asked. “It just never occurred to me that you might mind if I came down here and looked for things for breakfast.”

  “Of course I don’t,” Norman told her, reaching out for her hand across the table. “And of course I don’t mind. I was just teasing you, Hannah, and I’m grateful that you’re making breakfast.”

  Hannah drew a relieved breath just as the stove timer started to ring. “I think it’s done,” she said, getting up from her chair, grabbing pot holders, and scurrying to the oven. She opened the oven door, peeked inside, and turned back to him. “Could you bring me a table knife from your silverware drawer?”

  “Sure.” Norman went to the counter, pulled out a drawer, and took out a table knife. He carried it to Hannah and stood there watching as she pulled out the oven rack and inserted the knife near the center of the quiche. When she pulled it out again, he asked, “Is it done?”

  “It’s done.” Hannah showed him the clean knife blade. “If the knife had looked milky when I tested the quiche, I’d have given it another five minutes.”

  “So it’s a lot like testing a cake.”

  “That’s right.” Hannah took the quiche from the oven and moved it to a cold stovetop burner. “I guess you were wrong about Mike. We can eat in about fifteen minutes and he’s not here . . .” She stopped speaking as the doorbell rang, and laughed. “That’s got to be Mike. You were right after all, Norman.”

  Hannah made quick work of setting the kitchen table and by the time Mike and Norman came into the kitchen, she was pouring orange juice and coffee.

  “What smells so good?” Mike asked her.

  “Breakfast.” Hannah pointed to the quiche that was cooling on the stovetop burner.

  “Is it a pie?” Mike asked.

  “It’s like a pie, but it’s called a quiche. This one is a Corned Beef and Pepper Jack Quiche.”

  Mike looked surprised. “I’ve never had anything like that before! Is it good, Norman?”

  Norman shrugged. “I don’t know. Hannah’s never made it for me before, but I’ll bet it’s great!”

  Mike turned to Hannah. “Then I’ll ask you if it’s . . .” He paused for a second, and then he looked a bit sheepish. “Scratch that question, Hannah. I just realized that everything you make is good. Why should this be any different?”

  “Thank you,” Hannah said, accepting the compliment. “Would you like to have breakfast with Norman and me?”

  Mike glanced over at the kitchen table. “You have three plates and everything. Were you expecting someone else?”

  Norman shook his head. “Just you, Mike.”

  “But I didn’t tell you that I was coming.”

  No, but we know that you always seem to turn up when I’m ready to serve a meal, Hannah’s mind prompted her to answer, but she didn’t. They’d teased Mike too much about that in the past. Instead, she just smiled at him and said, “Both Norman and I were hoping that you might show up in time to try my quiche with us.”

  “Good.” Mike seemed pleased with Hannah’s response. He was smiling as he pulled out a chair and sat down next to Norman.

  “We’ll eat in about five minutes,” Hannah told him. “The quiche has to cool enough for me to cut it. In the meantime, we’ll have orange juice and coffee.”

  “Sounds great to me,” Mike responded. “Will you sit down, Hannah? I’ve got some information for you.”

  Hannah sat down on the other side of Norman. “What is it, Mike?”

  “I called Cyril at home last night to find out if Darcy’s car was still out at his garage. He said it was.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” Norman asked.

  “Cyril didn’t know, but he promised he’d have one of his mechanics look at it this morning.”

  “Is he going to call you and tell you what’s wrong with it?” Hannah asked Mike.

  Mike shook his head. “I told him not to call me because Bill had pulled me off Darcy’s murder case. And I explained that any information he gave me couldn’t be used as evidence.”

  “Good!” Hannah was clearly relieved. “I’d better call Cyril as soon as he opens the garage and tell him that I’ll come out there.”

  Mike smiled. “I already did that. I told Cyril to take a look at the car himself and when he discovered what was wrong with it, to call you at The Cookie Jar and ask you to come out so he can tell you in person. Cyril promised me that he wouldn’t let anyone else touch that car.”

  “I think I get it,” Norman said. “You didn’t want anyone but Cyril to touch it so if the killer sabotaged Darcy’s car to make sure she was home the night of the murder, there wouldn’t be so many fingerprints on it?”

  “Very good, Norman! I just want to cover all the bases as far as the car is concerned. Maybe it’s old and maybe it just broke down and it happened to be in the shop the night Darcy was murdered. Her car could have absolutely nothing to do with the murder case.”

  “Or it could be a clue to the killer,” Hannah said quickly. “It might have everything to do with the case.”

  “Right,” Mike said. “You have to treat everything that’s out of the ordinary like it could be the clue that leads you to Darcy’s killer.” He raised his coffee cup and drained it, and then he leaned back in the chair. “Is that quiche cool enough to cut yet?”

  Hannah glanced at Norman’s kitchen clock. “I’ll check.”

  “Thanks, Hannah. I was so hungry when I woke up this morning, I ate a big bowl of cereal, but that didn’t seem to help. I even stopped for a frosted cinnamon roll and coffee at the Corner Tavern, but that didn’t do it, either. My stomach’s growling like crazy.”

  Hannah was grinning as she refilled Mike’s coffee cup, and went to check her quiche. The cinnamon rolls at the Corner Tavern were the size of small dinner plates and if Mike said he’d eaten one, he’d also probably ordered one to go and inhaled it on the drive out to Norman’s house. Mike’s metabolism must be absolutely marvelous. It seemed that he could ingest huge quantities of food anytime he wanted and never gain an ounce of weight.

  “Is it ready to cut, Hannah?” Mike asked.

  “Yes,” Hannah said, cupping her hands around the rim of the pan. “It’s ready.”

  A smile spread over Mike’s face and he gave a relieved sigh. “That’s good because I’m practically starving over here!”

  CORNED BEEF AND PEPPER JACK QUICHE

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

  The Quiche Shell:

  You can mix up your favorite piecrust recipe and line a 10-inch deep-dish pie pan. Alternatively, you can buy premade, frozen piecrusts at the grocery store. (If you decide to buy the frozen pie shells, make sure to buy 9-inch or 10-inch deep-dish pie shells.)

  Hannah’s 1st Note: Pre-made frozen piecrusts are very good and they’re a real timesaver. They generally come 2 pie shells to a package, and I always have a couple of packages in my freezer at the condo for emergencies. If you’re embarrassed about using something “store-bought,” just remove the shell while it’s still frozen and place it in one of your pie pans of the same size before you make and bake your quiche.

  Prepare your piecrust by cracking one egg and separating the yolk from the white. You can save the white in a covered dish in the refrigerator to add to scrambled eggs in the morning.

  Whip up the yolk with a fork and brush the bottom and insides of your piecrust with the yolk. When you’re finished, prick the piecrust all over with the tines of a fork from your silverware drawer to keep it from puffing up in the oven.

  Bake the empty piecrust in a 350°F. oven for 5 minutes. It won’t be nice and golden brown, but you’ll bake it again after you put in your quiche filling.

  Take the piecrust out of the oven and set it on a wire rack or a cold stovetop burner. If “bubbles” have formed in the crust, immediately prick them with the fork to let out the steam. Let the piecrust cool wh
ile you mix up the quiche filling.

  The Quiche Filling:

  5 eggs

  1 and ½ cups whipping cream (also called heavy cream or manufacturing cream)

  5 ounces Pepper Jack cheese, shredded (approximately 2 cups—measure AFTER grating)

  1 can (15 ounces by weight) corned beef hash (I used Mary Kitchen hash by Hormel)

  ¼ cup finely chopped onion (measure AFTER chop- ping)

  Hot sauce to taste (I used Slap Ya Mama hot sauce)

  ½ teaspoon salt

  ¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

  ¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg (freshly grated is best, of course)

  Hannah’s 2nd Note: If you don’t like Pepper Jack cheese, you can use Monterey Jack, or pre-grated Italian or Mexican cheese. Cheddar will also do nicely. If you do this, you may want to add additional black pepper for flavor.

  Hannah’s 3rd Note: Nutmeg with corned beef may sound a little strange, but it adds a nice touch of sweetness to this quiche.

  Combine the eggs with the whipping cream and whisk them (or beat them at MEDIUM speed) until they’re a uniform color. When they’re thoroughly mixed, pour them into a pitcher and set it in the refrigerator.

  Sprinkle the grated cheese in the bottom of your cooled pie shell.

  Open the can of corned beef hash and spread it over the top of the cheese.

  Sprinkle on the onion, and add as many drops of hot sauce as your family would like.

  Sprinkle the salt on top.

  Sprinkle the ground black pepper over the salt.

  Sprinkle the ground nutmeg over the pepper.

  Put a drip pan under your pie pan.

  Hannah’s 4th Note: I line a jelly roll pan with foil and use that. You could also use parchment paper. If you line your drip pan, the liner will catch any spills and the drip pan will be easy to wash.

  Take the egg and cream mixture out of the refrigerator and give it a good stir with a whisk or a mixing spoon.

  Pour the mixture over the top of your Corned Beef and Pepper Jack Quiche until about half of the filling is covered.

  Open your oven, pull out the rack, and set your pie tin and drip pan on it. Pour in more custard mixture, stopping a quarter-inch short of the rim. Carefully push in the rack, and shut the oven door.

  Bake your Corned Beef and Pepper Jack Quiche at 350°F. for 60 minutes, or until the top is golden brown and a table knife inserted one inch from the center comes out clean.

  When your quiche tests as done, remove it from the oven and set it, drip pan and all, on a cold stovetop burner or a wire rack. Let it cool for 15 to 30 minutes before you cut it into pie-shaped wedges and serve it.

  This quiche is good warm, but it’s also good at room temperature. If your family is crazy about bacon, sprinkle bacon bits over the top of the quiche before you bake it to add even more flavor. If there’s any quiche left, which there probably won’t be, cover and refrigerate it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hannah had just finished filling a plate with their latest creation, Butterscotch and Pretzel Cookies, when Andrea came in the back kitchen door of The Cookie Jar.

  “Hi, Hannah,” she said, hanging her black wool coat and silk scarf on the rack by the door. “Those cookies look great!”

  “They are. I had one as soon as they were cool. You must be showing a house this morning.”

  Andrea looked at Hannah with the same expression that someone might use after watching a magician pull a rabbit out of a hat. “How did you know that?!”

  “You were wearing your black dress coat with a silk scarf. That’s what you always wear when you’re showing a house to a prospective client.”

  Andrea laughed. “You’re right! I do that because, if they don’t know me, it’s easy for them to spot me.”

  “Makes sense,” Hannah said, going to the kitchen coffeepot to pour Andrea a mug of coffee. “The usual?”

  “Yes, please. But one sugar, not two. This dress is getting a little tight on me and I think I’ve gained a pound or two.”

  “Really? You don’t look like you’ve gained weight.”

  “Thanks, but I’d still better watch it. It’s easy to gain weight if you come in here every morning. And I did that while you and Mother were gone.”

  Hannah was surprised. Andrea didn’t usually come in every day. “Did you come in to see Michelle?” she asked.

  “Yes, I came in to have coffee with Michelle, and Lisa and Aunt Nancy. I was lonely while you were gone.”

  Hannah was puzzled. “But you don’t come in that often when I’m here.”

  “That’s true, but I know you’re here. And since I know that, I don’t have to come in. That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  “I guess,” Hannah said, not adding that what she guessed was that Andrea must have suffered a blow to the head that had addled her brain. “Try a cookie and tell me how you like them.”

  “Okay,” Andrea agreed, reaching for a cookie. She took a bite, made a sound of satisfaction, and finished it in record time. “Good,” she said. “I love the salt and the sweet together.”

  “So do I. These are Lisa’s brainchild. We make them with chocolate chips, but we never thought to try them with butterscotch chips.”

  “Well, they’re just as good, maybe better,” Andrea declared, reaching for another.

  Hannah couldn’t help smiling. Andrea had reduced the packets of sugar in her coffee, but she’d taken a second cookie. She almost pointed that out to her sister but decided to keep it to herself. Andrea was probably nervous about pleasing her client. “Tell me about your client,” she suggested instead.

  “He’s very nice. Young. Married. Knows exactly what he wants. He also knows exactly what he wants to pay and he won’t go over that amount. I’ve shown him ten houses so far and he won’t budge from what he’s willing to put down as a down payment.”

  “And most of your clients are flexible about that?”

  “Yes, to a certain degree. I can usually get them to come up a little, but Roger simply won’t budge.”

  “Don’t worry,” Hannah said quickly. It was clear that Andrea was stressed over her newest client. “You’ll find the perfect house for him. You always do.”

  Andrea smiled. “Thanks, Hannah. You always know exactly what to say to make me feel better.”

  Hannah reached out to pat Andrea’s shoulder. “Your client sounds very persnickety.”

  Andrea gave a little laugh. “I haven’t heard anyone use that word since Great-Grandma Elsa died. I love that word. It describes my client perfectly. He’s very demanding and he knows exactly what he wants.”

  “What does he want?”

  “Three to four bedrooms, an attached garage, lots of vegetation including mature trees, a circular driveway, and no near neighbors.”

  “Sounds like he wants to live out in the country.”

  “Yes, but not way out in the country. The house has to be within a mile of town.”

  “Are there any houses like that?”

  “A couple. I showed them to him, but he didn’t like them. One had an old barn about sixty yards from the house. When he said he didn’t want a house with a barn, I told him it hadn’t been used in years. I said that old barn wood was at a premium with antique dealers and he could probably have it torn down with no cost to him if he let whoever did it keep the wood.”

  “What did he say to that?”

  “He told me he didn’t want to bother doing that. He’s a hard case, Hannah. He’s not willing to budge an inch. Most people will haggle over the price, or demand that something be done to the house, but he’s not even willing to go that far. He wants perfection, and he’s depending on me to find it for him.”

  Andrea was getting frustrated again, and Hannah decided to change the subject. “It’s too bad you don’t like raisins. Aunt Nancy came up with a recipe for Cinnamon and Raisin Snaps that’s been so popular, it outsells all the other cookies we bake.”

  “I’d like to try one of those,” Andr
ea declared.

  “But they’re regular raisins, not golden raisins. And you told me you hate regular raisins.”

  Andrea shook her head. “Not anymore. I discovered the reason I didn’t like them and I’m fine with them now.”

  Hannah looked at her sister curiously. “Okay. Tell me why you didn’t like regular raisins before.”

  “Because Mother used to buy raisin bread and she’d give me raisin bread toast every time you weren’t there to make me breakfast. She always left it in the toaster too long and the raisins got burned. That made them bitter and I don’t like anything bitter. So it’s not that I don’t like raisins. I just don’t like burnt raisins.”

  “I can understand that, and I can guarantee that our Cinnamon and Raisin Snaps don’t have any burned raisins.”

  “Then I’d really like to try one. You’re not like Mother. You never burn anything.”

  Hannah was chuckling as she went off to get some of their newest cookies. Andrea had no idea that the first time she’d tried to make pancakes, she’d misread the recipe. Andrea was in preschool, Michelle hadn’t been born at the time, Delores had been out at an estate sale, and Hannah had been alone in the house. She had been bored, all by herself, so she’d decided to page through her mother’s cookbook and try to learn how to make something to eat. Since she wasn’t sure how to use the oven, she decided to try pancakes.