Double Fudge Brownie Murder (9780758280428)

by Fluke, Joanne

  “His ears perk up and his tail starts swishing back and forth. Norman knew I was coming home because Moishe started purring, jumped down from Norman’s lap, and headed straight for the door.”

  “Impressive,” Michelle said, taking up a stance with her feet apart in the center of the landing. She leaned forward to use her key and then she turned around to look at Hannah. “Ready?”

  “I’m ready. And I’m willing to bet that Moishe is, too.”

  Michelle leaned forward to unlock the door. She pushed it open and a flying bundle of orange and white fur went airborne and hurtled into her waiting arms.

  Michelle made a sound midway between a gasp and a grunt with the emphasis on the grunt. Hannah had heard that sound only once before. It was at a family picnic when her father and uncles had decided to throw their father’s medicine ball to each other. It had looked similar to a bowling ball, but it was covered with leather. And instead of weighing twelve or thirteen pounds, her grandfather’s medicine ball weighed in at almost thirty pounds. The merriment had stopped after only a few throws and that night Delores had rubbed her husband’s back with liniment.

  “Either Moishe’s gaining weight or I’m growing weaker,” Michelle said, carrying him into Hannah’s living room and placing him on the back of the couch.

  “It might be both,” Hannah commented, smiling to show her sister that she was teasing. Michelle had always been strong and athletic. “Let’s go change, relax for a couple of minutes, and then we’ll bake my cake. Ross asked me to bake it. He told me he loves tangerines.”

  Hannah fed Moishe and then she went off to her bedroom to change into what Andrea called her “at-home ensemble,” which consisted of a pair of grey sweatpants and an old college sweatshirt. When she came back into the living room, she found Michelle sitting on the couch in a similar outfit with Moishe in her lap and two glasses of white wine sitting in front of her on the coffee table.

  “You’re only twenty-one,” Hannah told her. “Are you turning into a two-fisted drinker already? And why on earth did you put ice cubes in my jug wine?”

  Michelle laughed. “It’s not your jug wine. It’s lemon soda. I bought it at the Red Owl because Florence convinced me that we’d like it. And the reason I added ice is because it’s not chilled. I put it in a wineglass because it looked prettier that way.”

  “Is it any good?”

  “I don’t know. I was letting it chill down a little. Try it and see what you think.”

  Hannah took a cautious sip. “Yes.”

  “What does yes mean?”

  “It’s not bad at all. It might even be good.” Hannah took another sip. “Actually, I like it. It’s lemonade with fizz.”

  “Thanks for being my taste tester,” Michelle said with a smile. “Now that I know it’s not awful, I’ll try it, too.”

  “So I was your guinea pig?”

  “You could say that.” Michelle took a sip. “You’re right, Hannah. It is good. I’ll pick up another six-pack tomorrow.”

  They sat in companionable silence for several minutes with the exception of Moishe, who was purring loudly every time Michelle scratched him behind the ears.

  Then Hannah took her last sip of lemon soda and stood up. “I’d better start baking. If I sit here much longer, I’ll nod off.”

  Michelle got up and picked up her glass. “Didn’t you sleep long enough?”

  “I did, thanks to you. That was really nice of you, letting me sleep. I never get the chance to do that when you’re not here.”

  “It’s one of the reasons I like to stay with you. When I stay at Mother’s, I don’t feel helpful. When I stay with you, I do. And sometimes I even get to help you with an investigation. I really like that.”

  “You do?”

  “I really do. It’s such a change from my classwork.”

  “I should hope so! Unless, of course, those lectures you go to are deadly boring.”

  Michelle laughed and so did Hannah. They were still laughing when Hannah placed the recipe she’d printed out at The Cookie Jar on her kitchen counter and they went off to gather the ingredients. Hannah was just picking the seeds from the last tangerine when she heard soft footfalls that meant Moishe had entered the kitchen.

  “Don’t tell me you’re hungry again!” she said, expecting a yowl in response. But there was no yowl from Moishe. Instead, he made a muffled cry.

  “What’s the matter?” Hannah responded immediately, whirling around to discover that Moishe was holding a blue and white mitten in his mouth. “Moishe! Where did you get that mitten?” She made a grab for the mitten and managed to extricate it without any damage to either her fingers or the mitten.

  Michelle turned to look at the mitten that Hannah was holding. “Is it yours, Hannah?”

  “No, and I don’t recognize it. How about you?”

  Michelle shook her head. “It’s not mine. I’ve never had a pair of blue and white mittens.”

  “It’s pretty,” Hannah said, examining the mitten. “I like the little snowflake design.”

  “I like it, too. And I think this mitten’s homemade. See that thumb? It reminds me of the mittens that Grandma Ingrid used to knit for me.”

  “That’s because the thumbs were always a little crooked and placed in the wrong spot. Grandma Ingrid hated to knit thumbs. I watched her finish a pair of mittens once, and I asked her why she had little needles around the hole on the side. She said that it was the thumbhole and she hated to knit thumbs because she could never get them right.”

  “Well, this mitten has to belong to somebody we know.”

  “That’s right,” Hannah said. “And that someone has another one just like it.”

  Michelle rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”

  “I thought so,” Hannah said with a smile and then she quickly sobered. “It’s not mitten weather yet so this mitten must have been left here last year.”

  “If it was left here.”

  “Yes, if it was left here.” Hannah said, glancing at Moishe who was sitting in front of the refrigerator looking as pure as the driven snow.

  Hannah and Michelle stared at the mitten for long moments and then Hannah gave an exasperated sigh.

  “What?” Michelle asked.

  “I totally forgot. We’ve got a perfect way to tell if Moishe got out and brought this mitten home.”

  “The surveillance system,” Michelle said, catching on immediately. “You told me that Mike installed it this morning.”

  Hannah placed the mitten on the counter. Then she thought better of it and stuck it in a drawer. Moishe could jump up on the counter, but he’d never opened a kitchen drawer. “Let’s get that cake into the oven and then we can watch the surveillance tape while it’s baking. Maybe we can catch our cat burglar red-pawed and it’ll show us how he gets out.”

  “There’s nothing on the tape,” Michelle said, sighing deeply. “All we did was watch Moishe jump up on the couch and down from the couch a bunch of times, and walk back and forth between the kitchen and the hallway.”

  “That’s true, but we did learn a lot.”

  “Like what?”

  “We learned that Moishe didn’t go out the door to the landing, but he still had something that didn’t belong to us.”

  “Okay,” Michelle conceded, “but we don’t know if he got that mitten today. For all we know, he could have stolen it three days ago, hidden it under a bed, and just now got it out to play with it.”

  “You’re right. The only thing we know for sure is that Moishe had it in his mouth when he walked past the camera on his way to the kitchen. And the camera was trained on the outside door. Let’s reposition the surveillance system so it shows the length of the hallway. Mike showed me how to do it.”

  “What good will that do?”

  “It’ll narrow things down. Maybe Moishe does have a stash of hidden bounty somewhere. If he does, and if we find it, we might discover something we’ll recognize. Then, if we can identify the owner, at least we’
ll know where Moishe’s been.”

  “But we won’t know how he got there,” Michelle pointed out. “I can’t believe we’re spending all this time tracking a cat!”

  Hannah raised her eyebrows. “Don’t sell him short, Michelle. My felonious feline is a cagey one.”

  Michelle laughed. “He certainly is! Maybe we’d better look around for a hidden treasure map.”

  “Or a tunnel like the ones the pirates used to move stolen goods between their ships and the coastal towns. It’s pretty obvious that Moishe knows how to dig. I have to sweep up kitty litter every morning.”

  “Then a tunnel is a definite possibility.” Michelle looked very serious. “I wonder where his tunnel could be. Do you think we should tear up the living room carpet to take a look?”

  Hannah glanced down at her faded green carpeting. She’d hated the color when she’d moved in and she hated it even more now. She gave a little sigh, but she shook her head. “This carpeting’s so old, it might be an improvement, but let’s not do anything that rash until we give up on Mike’s surveillance system. New carpeting is expensive. Come on, Michelle. Let’s reposition that camera and hope for the best.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the job was done. Hannah started to walk back into the living room when she noticed that Michelle was standing motionless, staring up at the camera that was positioned over the doorway to her bedroom. “What is it?” Hannah asked her.

  “It’s that camera. It’s going to catch me every time I go in and out of my bedroom.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s a camera!”

  “Okay, it’s a camera. What’s wrong with a camera?”

  “It’s a camera and I’m an actress. Every time an actress sees a camera, she gets the urge to perform. I don’t think you’re going to appreciate hearing the first three numbers from Jesus Christ Superstar when I get up to go to the bathroom at three in the morning.”

  “That’s better than Hamlet’s soliloquy, but I see what you mean. Can’t you perform any quieter scenes? Like the body in the pool at the beginning of Sunset Boulevard?”

  “But the body in the pool doesn’t have any lines until they go back in time to when he was alive.”

  “I know. That’s the whole point.”

  Michelle laughed. “I’ll work on it. Or better yet, I just won’t look up at the camera in the middle of the night.” She was quiet for a moment and then she glanced at her watch. “Are you tired, Hannah?”

  “Not really. Why?”

  “Because Seth Dortweiler is performing at the Eight Ball Bar in Grey Eagle tonight. His set starts at nine.”

  “And you want me to interview him tonight?”

  “Why not? Unless you’d rather wait until tomorrow night when Ross gets here.”

  Hannah shook her head. She certainly didn’t want to work on a murder case the first night that Ross was in town. “I’d rather go tonight. And then, tomorrow morning, we can try to catch the judge’s widow at home.”

  TANGERINE DREAM CAKE

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

  Hannah’s 1st Note: I think it’s possible to make this cake by hand, but it will take a strong arm to do it. Lisa and I use an electric stand mixer. Some people may still have a food grinder in their kitchen cabinet. If you do, get it out and use it. If you don’t, use a food processor and the steel blade to process the tangerines after you juice them, the raisins, and the pecans.

  3 ripe tangerines (choose the ones with perfect skin—you’ll be using that, too!)

  1 cup golden raisins (Regular raisins will also work, but I think that the golden raisins work best in this recipe.)

  cup pecans

  2 cups all-purpose flour (Don’t pack it down. Just scoop it out and level off the top of your measuring cup with a table knife.)

  1 teaspoon salt

  1 teaspoon baking soda

  ½ teaspoon nutmeg (freshly grated is best)

  1 and cups white (granulated) sugar

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

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  ¾ cup whole milk

  2 large eggs

  ¼ cup whole milk (This brings the milk total up to one cup.)

  Grease and lightly flour a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan. (Alternatively, you can spray the pan with baking spray, the kind with flour in it.)

  Wash the outside of your tangerines, then cut them in half and juice them. Save one-third cup of the juice. You’ll be using it in the Tangerine Dream Cake topping. If there is more than cup of tangerine juice, pour the excess into a little container and save it to add to your cake batter.

  Pick out the seeds and throw them away, then cut the pulp and rind into quarters.

  If you have a food grinder, grind the tangerine pulp and rind with the raisins and the pecans. If you don’t have a grinder, simply put the tangerine pulp and rind into the bowl of your food processor with the steel blade in place. Add the raisins and the pecans. Process them with an on and off motion until they’re chopped as finely as they’d be if you’d used a food grinder. (They should look as finely ground as hamburger.)

  Set the ground tangerine, raisin, and pecan mixture aside in a bowl on the counter.

  Leave your steel blade in the food processor and don’t wash the bowl. You’ll be using it to finely chop a quarter-cup of pecans for the topping once your Tangerine Dream Cake has baked.

  If you had any excess tangerine juice (anything over the cup you’re saving for the cake topping) add it to the tangerine, raisin, and pecan mixture. Stir it in and return the bowl to the counter.

  Measure out one cup of flour and put it in the bowl of your electric mixer. Add the salt, baking soda, nutmeg, and white sugar. Mix them together at LOW speed.

  Add the second cup of flour. Mix that in at LOW speed.

  Add the softened butter, the vanilla extract, and the ¾ cup whole milk. Beat at LOW speed until the flour is well moistened. Then turn the mixer up to MEDIUM HIGH speed.

  Beat for 2 minutes. Then shut off the mixer and scrape down the sides of the bowl.

  Turn the mixer on LOW and add the eggs, one at a time, beating all the while. Then beat in the ¼ cup whole milk. Once the eggs and the milk are incorporated, turn the mixer up to MEDIUM HIGH.

  Beat for 2 minutes. Then shut off the mixer and scrape down the sides of the bowl again.

  Remove the bowl from the mixer. You’re going to finish the Tangerine Dream Cake by hand.

  Gradually add the ground tangerine, raisin, and pecan mixture to the mixing bowl, folding it in gently as you go. The object is to keep as much air in the cake batter as you can.

  Pour the cake batter into the pan you prepared earlier. Smooth out the top with a rubber spatula.

  Bake your Tangerine Dream Cake at 350 degrees F. for 40 to 50 minutes, or until a thin wooden skewer or a cake tester that you poke into the center of the cake comes out clean. (I started testing my cake at 40 minutes, but there was still sticky batter clinging to the tester. The last time I baked this cake, it took the full 50 minutes.)

  When your cake is done, take it out of the oven and place it on a wire rack or a cold burner on the stovetop.

  Tangerine Dream Cake Topping:

  cup tangerine juice (from the tangerines you juiced earlier)

  ½ cup white (granulated) sugar

  ¼ cup finely chopped pecans

  Hannah’s 2nd Note: You must make the topping and put it on your cake while the cake is still piping hot from the oven.

  Drizzle the cup of tangerine juice over the top of your hot cake.

  Sprinkle the sugar over the top of the tangerine juice on your cake.

  Finely chop more pecans. Measure out ¼ cup and sprinkle them on top of the sugar on your cake.

  Let your cake cool to room temperature. Then cover it and refrigerate it. This will keep it nice and moist.

  You can serve your Tangerine Dream Cake at room tempera
ture or chilled. It freezes well if you wrap it in foil and put it in a freezer bag.

  If you’d like to dress it up a bit, cut pieces, put them on pretty dessert plates, and decorate each piece with a dollop of sweetened whipped cream.

  Chapter Twenty

  “I feel stupid in this outfit,” Hannah said, glancing down at her oldest, tightest pair of jeans and the shocking pink tank top that was at least two sizes too small for her. Michelle had bought it in Las Vegas and it was the epitome of glitz, with sparkling gold lettering proclaiming that the wearer was a SHOWGIRL IN TRAINING.

  “You look perfect for the Eight Ball. You’ll see I’m right just as soon as we go in.”

  “You looked that up online, too?”

  “No, I’ve been there before.”

  “With Lonnie?”

  “No! Lonnie wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like the Eight Ball. The first time I went there, it was a girls’ night out in high school and we thought it was far enough away from Lake Eden so that no one would recognize us.”

  “And it wasn’t?”

  Michelle shook her head. “I got busted.”

  “Did Mother read you the riot act?”

  “I would have preferred that, but she gave me the silent treatment when I came in the door. There she was in her robe and slippers. She held out her hand for the car keys and after I handed them over, she motioned for me to go into my room.”