by Joanne Fluke
Hannah turned to look at Lisa, who shrugged. “Maybe I’m crazy, but it sounds reasonable to me.”
“Me, too,” Norman said, giving Moishe a scratch under the chin.
“Our eardrums salute you,” Hannah said with a grin, turning back to Mike. “But…are you sure I won’t get into trouble?”
“I’m sure. Don’t forget that I’m the acting sheriff. If I say that it’s a private party and health department regulations don’t apply, then it’s a private party and health department regulations don’t apply.”
Hannah clamped her lips shut. She suspected that the power of his new office might be corrupting Mike, but she’d wait until next week to point it out to him.
The first arrivals started to trickle in shortly after they opened at ten o’clock. Hannah met Sophie, the wardrobe mistress, and Honey, the head beautician. Ross had rented Bertie Straub’s shop, the Cut ’n Curl, for the week and Honey was using it as her headquarters. Bertie was acting as an advisor on hairstyles of the fifties, and unlike Delores, who didn’t want to admit that she remembered the fifties, Bertie didn’t seem to mind at all.
As the minutes passed, more members of the crew came in. There was Clark, one of the cameramen, who explained to Hannah that he’d be shooting some footage of Moishe that afternoon, and Coop, the soundman, who’d be there, too. Lars, the head electrician, told Hannah that when it came to the film world, the terminology was different than it was in everyday life. For instance, the men who handled electrical cables were called grips. Dom, the assistant director, chimed in to tell her that the people who handled animal actors were called wranglers even if the animal in question wasn’t a horse, and she would be listed in the screen credits at the end of the film, which were called a crawl, as the cat wrangler. That tickled Hannah’s funny bone and she chuckled about it all the way back to the counter to get three Old Fashioned Sugar Cookies for Frances, the middle-aged woman who told Hannah that she was the script girl.
Hannah was just heading back to the counter for the second time to get Jared, the set decorator, a refill on his coffee when she happened to notice that the swinging door between the coffee shop and the kitchen was inching open. As they watched, an orange-and-white leg poked out and a moment after that, Moishe’s head appeared. Hannah was just springing into action to catch her errant feline before he could disturb the cast and crew, when there was a startled yowl and Moishe was pulled back into the kitchen.
“Uh-oh,” Hannah breathed. Norman and Mike had offered to take care of Moishe, but he must have gotten away from them. They couldn’t cat-sit forever and it was time to figure out a way to keep him confined to the kitchen where he wouldn’t bother anyone. She motioned for Lisa to refill Jared’s mug, pointed to herself and then to the kitchen door, and hurried to take care of the problem.
“Sorry about that,” Mike said, as soon as Hannah came through the door. “He got away from us for a second. We decided we’re going to take him out there.”
Hannah shook her head. “I don’t think that’s…”
The rest of Hannah’s sentence was drowned out by a massive yowl. Moishe had regained his vocal power and he was exercising it to the fullest.
“I don’t think he’s going to settle for less,” Norman observed. “Come on, Big Boy. Let’s go.”
Without another word to Hannah, Norman picked Moishe up and headed toward the coffee shop with Mike following in his wake. Hannah just stared after them as the door swung closed.
“Catnapped,” she said, listening for disaster to break loose. Thirty seconds passed, and then a full minute as Hannah watched the second hand on the kitchen clock. Was Moishe actually going to behave like a well-trained movie cat and not scratch, or yowl, or exercise any of the other bad kitty behaviors he’d perfected over the years? She was listening so intently and concentrating so hard, it came as a shock when there was a sharp knock on the back door. “Coming,” Hannah called out and went to open it.
It was Andrea and she was dressed to the nines. Her coat was powder blue suede with white fur around the collar and the hemline, and she wore matching gloves of pale blue leather. Her boots matched her gloves, and the only thing that was missing from the ensemble that Hannah called Andrea’s Princess of Winter outfit was the white fur hat that she usually wore on her head.
“No hat?” Hannah asked, taking her sister’s coat and hanging it up on the rack near the back door.
“The dog ate it.”
“What dog? You don’t have a dog.”
“I know. It was Reverend Knudson’s dog, Vespers. She got out and Bill spotted her in front of the community center. He put Vespers in the backseat and took her home. It happened a couple of weeks ago.”
“And your hat was in the backseat?”
“That’s right.”
“And Vespers ate it?”
“Well…she tore up more than she ate. We couldn’t really blame her. I think it was made out of real fur. I’m just glad it didn’t make her sick.”
Hannah reached out to give her sister a little hug, an unusual gesture from a member of the Swensen clan who weren’t known for being demonstrative.
“What was that for?” Andrea asked.
“For being more concerned about Vespers than you were about losing your hat. I’m proud of you, Sis.”
“Oh. Well…the hat was last season’s anyway.” Andrea waved off the compliment, but Hannah could tell she was pleased. “How about a cookie for Lake Eden’s newest stage mother?”
“Tracey got the part?”
“Yes, and I’m so excited! Mr. Barton called us this morning with the good news. It wasn’t just up to him, you know. Mr. Lawrence had to approve her.”
“How could he not approve her?” Hannah waited until Andrea sat down on a stool at the work island, and then she served her hot coffee and two of their newest experimental cookies. “There was never any doubt in my mind that Tracey would get the part. I saw her audition and she was brilliant.”
Andrea looked very proud. “I thought she was brilliant, too. I was ninety-nine percent sure she had it, but I didn’t want to count my chickens before they were laid.”
“Hatched. Chickens are hatched, eggs are laid.”
“That’s what I meant to say. I’m just so happy about it, I can’t talk straight.”
“So when does Tracey start?”
“Her first big scene is Wednesday, but she has to report to makeup today at three. And after that she gets fitted for her costumes. I have to go over to Mr. Lawrence’s office at noon to pick up an official script for her. I’ll run lines with her tonight so she can practice.”
“Run lines?”
“Yes. That’s what they call it in the biz. You know, I’ll read the line before hers, and she’ll respond with her line.”
Hannah debated silently for a moment and then she decided she’d better take her sister into her confidence. “You said you’re going to Mr. Lawrence’s trailer?”
“Yes, at noon.”
“Well, be careful.”
“Why?” Andrea stopped with the cookie midway to her mouth.
“He has quite a reputation with women.”
“How do you know? Did he make a pass at you?”
“I’m not sure.”
Andrea dropped her cookie back on the napkin. “How can you not be sure if somebody made a pass at you? It’s not rocket science, you know. They either did, or they didn’t.”
“I couldn’t tell for sure. I was wearing my big parka coat, and he brushed past me in a small space, and…never mind. Let’s just say a reputable source told me he does that sort of thing, and you’d be smart if you took someone with you, just in case.”
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself around men. I’ve never been unfaithful to Bill and I never will be.” Andrea tossed her head and a hard look came into her eyes. “I just wish I could say the same for Bill!”
Hannah gulped. Her sister had been sweetness and light just a second ago, and now she looked as if
she could spit nails. “What happened?”
“Absolutely nothing and that’s the problem.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Bill called me last night and we talked for a long time. I was just getting ready for bed when I realized that I hadn’t told him about the car.”
“What about the car?”
“Cyril Murphy says it needs new tires on the back, but that’s not important. What’s important is that I called Bill back in his hotel room, and there was no answer.”
“Maybe he was sleeping?”
“Bill’s been a cop for too long. Even if he’s dead beat, he always wakes up when the phone rings.”
“Well…maybe he stepped out for a minute to stretch his legs, or something like that.”
“At two in the morning?”
“Um…that is pretty late.” Hannah searched her mind for another excuse. “Maybe he couldn’t sleep and he went down to the bar for a nightcap.”
“The bar closes at one.”
“Oh. Well…maybe you dialed the wrong number.”
“That’s what I thought, at first. But then I called the hotel switchboard and I asked them to connect me directly.”
“And there was still no answer?” Andrea nodded and Hannah saw her sister’s eyes begin to glisten with unshed tears. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Andrea. I’m sure there’s some explanation.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!”
Oh, boy! Hannah said under her breath.
“Well?” Andrea asked, lifting her chin and looking straight into her sister’s eyes. “What do you think I should do?”
“There’s only one thing to do,” Hannah replied quickly. “Eat chocolate. Just sit here and try to relax and I’ll get you a whole plateful of cookies.”
CHERRY CHEESECAKE
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position
For the crust:
2 cups vanilla wafer cookie crumbs (measure AFTER crushing)
¾ stick melted butter (6 Tablespoons)
1 teaspoon almond extract
Pour melted butter and almond extract over cookie crumbs. Mix with a fork until they’re evenly moistened.
Cut a circle of parchment paper (or wax paper) to fit inside the bottom of a 9-inch Springform pan. Spray the pan with Pam or some other non-stick cooking spray, set the paper circle in place, and spray with Pam again.
Dump the moistened cookie crumbs in the pan and press them down over the paper circle and one-inch up the sides. Stick the pan in the freezer for 15 to 30 minutes while you prepare the rest of the cheesecake.
For the topping:
2 cups sour cream
½ cup white (granulated) sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
21-ounce can cherry pie filling*** (I used Comstock Dark Sweet Cherry)
Mix the sour cream, sugar, and vanilla together in a small bowl. Cover and refrigerate. Set the unopened can of cherry pie filling in the refrigerator for later.
For the cheesecake batter:
1 cup white (granulated) sugar
3 eight-ounce packages cream cheese at room temperature (total 24 ounces)
1 cup mayonnaise (not Miracle Whip)
4 eggs
2 cups white chocolate chips (11-or 12-ounce bag—I used Ghirardelli’s)
2 teaspoons vanilla
Place the sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer. Add the blocks of cream cheese and the mayonnaise, and whip it up at medium speed until it’s smooth. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating after each addition.
Melt the white chocolate chips in a microwave-safe bowl for 2 minutes. (Chips may retain their shape, so stir to see if they’re melted—if not, microwave in 15-second increments until you can stir them smooth.) Cool the melted white chocolate for a minute or two and then mix it in gradually at slow speed. Scrape down the bowl and add the vanilla, mixing it in thoroughly.
Pour the batter on top of the chilled crust, set the pan on a cookie sheet to catch any drips, and bake it at 350 degrees F. for 55 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven, but DON’T SHUT OFF THE OVEN.
Starting in the center, spoon the sour cream topping over the top of the cheesecake, spreading it out to within a half-inch of the rim. Return the pan to the oven and bake for an additional 5 minutes.
Cool the cheesecake in the pan on a wire rack. When the pan is cool enough to pick up with your bare hands, place it in the refrigerator and chill it, uncovered, for at least 8 hours.
To serve, run a knife around the inside rim of the pan, release the Springform catch, and lift off the rim. Place a piece of waxed paper on a flat plate and tip it upside down over the top of your cheesecake. Invert the cheesecake so that it rests on the paper.
Carefully pry off the bottom of the Springform pan and remove the paper from the bottom crust.
Invert a serving platter over the bottom crust of your cheesecake. Flip the cheesecake right side up, take off the top plate, and remove the waxed paper.
Spread the cherry pie filling over the sour cream topping on your cheesecake. You can drizzle a little down the sides if you wish.
Hannah’s Note: I’ve made this cheesecake with other pie fillings including blueberry, apple, raspberry, and even lemon. It’s wonderful with any one you choose.
Mother says you have to serve this cheesecake with strong coffee—it’s just too rich to eat without something to sip.
Chapter
Ten
“I feel much better,” Andrea said, finishing her last cookie and giving her older sister a half smile. “It’s almost as good as rocking Bethany and having her fall asleep in my arms. These are my new favorite cookies, Hannah. What do you call them?”
“Mock Turtles. They’ve got pecans, caramel, and chocolate, just like the candy.”
“That’s a great name. They even look like turtles.”
Hannah nodded, not mentioning that the candy had been named for the same reason.
“Why does chocolate always make you feel better?”
“I think it’s the endorphins, but I don’t know for sure. Whatever it is, it works.”
“They should set up a chocolate stand in every courthouse, right outside the divorce court.”
Uh-oh, Hannah thought, searching desperately for something to say to get her sister’s mind off divorce. “Maybe Herb should pass out chocolates every time he writes a parking ticket.”
“It might help,” Andrea said, squaring her shoulders. “There’s probably a perfectly good explanation and I’ll laugh when I hear it. I just don’t know what it is yet.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Hannah agreed, knowing that her sister was still thinking about the unanswered call to her husband in the wee, small hours of the morning.
“Maybe he left a message for me on my voice mail,” Andrea reached for her cell phone, the small leather-bound notebook she used to jot down messages, and the expensive pen that fit in a leather loop on the front of the notebook. “I’d better check.”
Hannah watched as her sister began to retrieve her messages and write them down. She’d learned to read upside down at an early age, and she knew it was due to innate laziness more than a desire to learn an unusual skill. One of her responsibilities as Andrea and Michelle’s big sister had been to listen to them read aloud before bedtime. They’d always sat cross-legged on the foot of her bed, facing Hannah as she’d rested on the pillows propped up against the headboard. It had been easier for her to learn to read upside down, providing the occasional unknown word for them from her comfortable perch, than to get out of bed and walk around to peer at the page over their shoulders.
Mall—Business Cards, Andrea wrote in her perfectly formed script at the top of the small page. Then she paused for a moment, the tip of her pen double-underlining the underline she’d placed at the bottom of the first message.
The pen moved again and Hannah squinted. It was a lot easier to read printing than cursive, but she persevered. Formula, the next note read. Unless An
drea had suddenly developed an interest in higher mathematics, Grandma McCann, Bethany’s live-in babysitter, must have called to remind her to pick up baby food on the way home.
“Uh-oh!” Andrea breathed, and Hannah watched as the next notation took form. Three dozen snacks—room mothers’ meeting today! Andrea underlined the word today three times for emphasis and then she pressed a button on the phone and lifted it from her ear. “Hannah? I’m in deep trouble. Could you possibly…?”
“Sure, if cookies will do it. How about three dozen or so?”
“That’s perfect! But how did you know I needed something?”
“I guess the sister–sister radar must be working,” Hannah said with a shrug.
Andrea frowned slightly and Hannah held her breath. Had she remembered their bedtime reading and Hannah’s ability to provide a word without getting up? But Andrea gave a little shrug and then she smiled. “You’re the best, Hannah. I was going to stop at the Red Owl to pick up some squeezable pimento cheese spread and crackers, but I forgot they’d be closed.”
“That’s okay,” Hannah said, trying not to shudder. Her taste buds lumped squeezable cheese spread in the same category as instant coffee.
Andrea punched another number on her phone and picked up her pen again. She listened for a moment and then she began to smile as the tip of her pen formed a heart on the page.
A moment later, the phone, notebook, and pen were back in Andrea’s neatly organized purse and she was smiling from ear to ear. “Guess what happened?”
“You won the lottery.”