Double Fudge Brownie Murder (9780758280428)

by Fluke, Joanne

  “Maybe.” Hannah said, but she was doubtful. She’d gone over everything with Michelle and she’d reviewed her own notes countless times. “If we’re missing something, I don’t know what it is.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Norman said with a grin. “If you did, you wouldn’t be missing anything.”

  Hannah groaned and then she reached out to give him a hug. That comment was pure Norman and she adored his sense of humor. She wanted to be with Ross. That hadn’t changed. She’d told her mother that she didn’t love Norman the way she loved Ross, but was that because she’d taken Norman for granted and assumed that he would always be around for her? Could she ever be completely happy if she lost Norman as a result of loving Ross?

  ORANGE DREAMSICLE BAR COOKIES

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

  Orange Cookie Crust:

  2 cups all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

  1 cup cold salted butter (2 sticks, 8 ounces, ½ pound)

  ¼ teaspoon orange zest

  ½ cup powdered (confectioners) sugar (no need to sift, unless it’s got big lumps)

  Orange Filling:

  4 beaten eggs (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)

  2 cups white (granulated) sugar

  ¼ cup orange juice (I used Minute Maid)

  ¼ teaspoon orange zest

  ¼ cup orange liqueur (I used Triple Sec)

  ½ teaspoon orange extract (optional)

  ½ teaspoon salt

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  ¾ cup all-purpose flour (pack it down when you measure it)

  Extra powdered (confectioners) sugar to sprinkle on top

  Hannah’s 1st Note: Orange zest is the finely grated peel from an orange. Use just the colored part. The white is bitter. One orange will yield approximately ½ teaspoon of orange zest and that’s enough for this recipe.

  To make the Crust:

  Place the 2 cups of flour in the bowl of a food processor.

  Cut each stick of butter into eight pieces. Place them on top of the flour.

  Sprinkle the ¼ teaspoon of orange zest on top of the butter.

  Sprinkle the powdered sugar on top of the orange zest.

  Process with the steel blade in an on-and-off motion until the resulting mixture looks like coarse cornmeal.

  Prepare a 9-inch by 13-inch rectangular cake pan by spraying it with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray. Alternatively, for even easier removal, line the cake pan with heavy-duty foil and spray that with Pam. (Then all you have to do is lift them out of the pan, peel off the foil, and cut them up into pieces.)

  Spread the crust mixture out in the prepared pan and pat it down with your impeccably clean hands. Then use a metal spatula to even it out and make it smooth on top.

  Get ready to put your crust in the oven. You will prepare the Orange Filling while your crust is baking.

  Bake the crust at 350 degrees F. for 15 to 20 minutes, or until it’s golden around the edges. When it’s baked, you will be removing the pan from the oven and pouring on the filling you’ll make, so don’t turn off the oven until both the crust and the filling are baked!

  Hannah’s 2nd Note: If your butter is a bit too soft when you make the crust, you may end up with a mass that balls up and clings to the food processor bowl. That’s okay. Just scoop it up and spread it out in the bottom of your prepared pan.

  Hannah’s 3rd Note: Don’t wash your food processor quite yet. You’ll need it to make the orange filling. (The same applies to your bowl and fork if you made the crust by hand.)

  To make the Orange Filling:

  Combine the eggs with the white sugar. (You can use your food processor and the steel blade to do this, or you can do it by hand in a bowl.)

  Add the orange juice, orange zest, orange liqueur, orange extract (if you decided to use it), salt, and baking powder. Mix thoroughly.

  Add the flour and mix until everything is incorporated. (This mixture will be runny—it’s supposed to be.)

  When your crust is baked, remove the pan from the oven and set it on a cold stovetop burner or a wire rack. Remember, don’t shut off the oven! Just leave it on at 350 degrees F.

  Pour the orange filling you just made on top of the crust you just baked. Let it sit on the cold stove burner for a full 5 minutes. (This helps the filling stick to the crust.)

  When the 5 minutes are up, use potholders to pick up the pan and return it to the oven. Bake your Orange Dreamsicle Bar Cookies for an additional 30 minutes.

  Remove the pan from the oven and cool your bar cookies in the pan on a cold stovetop burner or a wire rack. When the pan has cooled to room temperature, sprinkle some of your extra powdered sugar on top.

  Cover your pan with foil and refrigerate it until you’re ready to serve. Then take it out of the refrigerator, sprinkle the top with more powdered sugar, and cut your Orange Dreamsicle Bars into brownie-sized pieces. Place them on a pretty platter, and serve them with plenty of hot, strong coffee or tall glasses of milk. Yum!

  Hannah’s 4th Note: If you would prefer not to use alcohol in these bar cookies, simply substitute another ¼ cup of orange juice for the orange liqueur. That’s what Lisa and I do at The Cookie Jar. This recipe works both ways and I can honestly tell you that I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t like Orange Dreamsicle Bar Cookies!

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “I’m so glad we’re baking!” Hannah said to Michelle as they gathered the ingredients for a sugar cookie dough. “I didn’t realize how depressed and frustrated I was about Judge Colfax’s murder case. All I could think about was how I was getting nowhere fast.”

  “It’s not just the murder case,” Michelle told her, bringing several pounds of salted butter to the work station.

  “What do you mean?” Hannah set the sugar and flour canisters on the stainless steel surface.

  “I came back in from the coffee shop when you were hugging Norman. Are you having second thoughts about Ross?”

  “No! I just don’t want to lose Norman’s friendship, that’s all. You know how I feel about him. We’re . . .” Hannah stopped in mid-sentence and sighed. “I’m not sure how to describe it.”

  “Completely compatible? Soul mates? Joined at the hip? Cut from the same cloth?”

  “Yes. All of the above. I can’t bear the thought of losing him.”

  “How about Ross?” Michelle ducked back into the walk-in cooler to get the eggs and brought them to the work table. “Can you bear the thought of losing Ross?”

  “No!”

  “Then you’ve got a problem that has nothing to do with Judge Colfax’s murder case.”

  “I know. Let’s bake. I’m getting stressed again just talking about it.”

  “Sounds to me like you’re in a real emotional jam,” Michelle told her. “And that’s what we should call these cookies.”

  “Emotional jam?”

  “No, Hot Jam Cookies. That way the name won’t give them away. They could be hot from the oven, not hot from hot peppers.”

  “But the name doesn’t work. We’re not using jam. We’re making these cookies with jelly.”

  “Picky, picky,” Michelle said with a grin. “Jelly? Jam? What’s the difference?”

  “Jelly is made from clear fruit juice. And jam is made from pureed fruit. They look entirely different.”

  “Okay, let’s call them Hot Jelly Cookies. But that doesn’t sound as good as Hot Jam Cookies.”

  Hannah thought about that for a moment. “You’re right,” she admitted. “Hot Jam Cookie it is. Let’s taste the jelly and see just how spicy it is. That way we’ll know how much to use.”

  “You first.”

  Hannah laughed. “Okay. I’ll taste the green and you can taste the red.”

  “Oh, sure! I might have known it. You’re giving me the hotter one.” Michelle smiled to show she was teasing. “Let’s taste and then let’s switch. We should know what both jellies taste like.”

>   “Deal.”

  The two sisters tasted their respective jellies. “What did you think of yours?” Michelle asked.

  “The green’s really tasty and it has a little kick, but not all that much,” Hannah answered. “I like it. How about the red?”

  “It’s hot, but not too hot. I like it, too.”

  “Take a sip of coffee to clear your palate and then let’s switch,” Hannah said. “I want to make sure they’re both good enough to use in the cookies.”

  “Good idea,” Michelle replied, handing her a clean spoon.

  Both sisters sipped coffee for several moments. Then they switched jars, and tasted again.

  “I think they’re both perfect,” Michelle said. “All you have to do is tell your customers which is which and they can choose how much heat they’d like.”

  “I agree. Let’s mix up the cookie dough and try them. I want to see what effect baking has on the jellies.”

  They worked in companionable silence until Hannah heard the faint strains of the “Wedding March.” At first she thought she was imagining things, but then she realized it was coming from Michelle’s purse. “Your purse is playing the ‘Wedding March.’ ”

  “My phone is playing music,” Michelle corrected her. “It’s a text from Mother. That’s her text ring tone.”

  “Don’t even think about asking Tracey to set that up for me!” Hannah warned her.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. You’ve got enough problems of your own when it comes to the subject of weddings.” Michelle wiped her hands and went off to get her purse. She glanced at the screen and said, “It’s a long one. Mother must be feeling chatty. I’ll read it to you.”

  “Great.” Hannah covered the cookie dough with plastic wrap and put it in the coldest spot in the walk-in cooler to chill. Then she came back, poured fresh coffee for both of them and sat down to hear the message.

  “I’ve never had so much fun in my life!” Michelle said.

  “Making cookie dough?” Hannah asked her.

  “No. I’m reading Mother’s message to you.”

  “Oh. Go ahead.”

  “I’ve never had so much fun in my life!”

  Michelle repeated. “Doc and I went to the Empress Hotel for high tea! It’s in Victoria, British Columbia, and that’s a port of call on the trip back from Alaska. It was just wonderful and Doc doesn’t even like tea! They brought out a round silver serving platter with five tiers. It was filled with delicious tiny sandwiches on bread with no crusts, crumpets, scones with clotted cream, biscuits—that’s what the English call cookies, you know—and petite bites of cakes and desserts with creams and fruit. The smallest, top tier had four absolutely amazing chocolate truffles. That’s not exactly a tradition for high tea, but neither Doc nor I minded once we’d tasted them. They were from a chocolate shop just down the street and I’m bringing you girls some. Don’t tell Hannah, but I’m worried about . . . Uh-oh!”

  Hannah frowned. “Mother’s worried about uh-oh?”

  “The uh-oh! was mine. I wasn’t supposed to read you any of the next part.”

  “You can’t leave me hanging like that. You started it. Now finish reading it.”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “So what? I want to know what Mother doesn’t want me to know.”

  Michelle covered her face with her hands. “That was really convoluted,” she said in a voice that was muffled by her fingers.

  “You know what I mean. Now read it.”

  Michelle sighed deeply and looked down at her phone again. “All right. If you insist.”

  “I insist.”

  “Don’t tell Hannah, but I’m worried about her reaction to Ross. I know she knew him in college, but I’ve never seen her so starry-eyed before, not even when she was dating that horrid English professor who duped her into thinking he was an available suitor when he was nothing but a cad and a bounder.”

  Hannah laughed. She couldn’t help it. “An available suitor? A cad and a bounder? I think high tea in British Columbia affected Mother more than she realizes.”

  “And how!” Michelle laughed right along with Hannah. “Do you want me to finish reading Mother’s text or shall we just forget about it?”

  “Let’s hear the rest.”

  “Okay.” Michelle picked up her phone again. “Let us hope that Ross does get the job at KCOW. Then Hannah will have time to judge whether her affections for him are real or simply a reaction to her boring, single life.”

  Hannah didn’t say anything at first. She just thought about what her mother had written. Then she shrugged. “I don’t think my single life is boring, but Mother’s got a point. Las Vegas was a romantic fantasy. A man from my past that I’d always wanted to date showed up unexpectedly and swept me off my feet in an exciting interlude away from my ordinary life.”

  “Was that all it was?” Michelle asked, and Hannah thought she sounded a bit disappointed.

  “I don’t think that’s the case at all, but I can see why Mother might think so.”

  “She’s interfering in your life again, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, but only because she loves me and wants the best for me.”

  Michelle looked thoughtful. “I guess that mitigates it a little, but I know that I wouldn’t like it.”

  “Of course not. I don’t like it either. I understand it, though.”

  “You’re a bigger woman than I am!”

  “Oh, I know that,” Hannah said with a perfectly deadpan expression. “I haven’t been a size three since I was two years old!”

  Hannah had just taken the Hot Jam Cookies from the oven when there was a knock on the back door. “That’ll be Mike.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I made Hot Jam Cookies for him. That means there’s food involved. Need I say more?”

  “Probably not,” Michelle said and went to open the back door. “Hi, Mike.”

  “Hi, Michelle. Is Hannah here? I need to talk to her.”

  “Of course,” Hannah called out. “Come in, Mike. I’ll pour a cup of coffee for you.”

  “Something sure smells good,” Mike said, taking his usual place on a stool at the stainless steel work island.

  “Hot Jam Cookies,” Hannah told him. “If you wait three or four minutes, you can taste them for me.”

  “I’ve got time. I need to talk to you anyway. Are you busy right now?”

  “Not at the moment.” Hannah poured a glass of juice for herself and sat down across from Mike.

  “So,” Mike said, “I understand you went to see Mrs. Colfax.”

  Hannah tried to read his expression. He didn’t really look that angry. “Yes, I did,” she admitted. “Michelle and I went to pay a condolence call. Michelle baked Strawberry Muffins and we took some to Nora.”

  “And Seth Colfax. I checked in on him this morning and he said he’d talked to you and Michelle at the Eight Ball Bar. Really, Hannah!”

  “What are you so upset about? The fact that I’m meddling? Or the fact that Michelle and I went to the Eight Ball Bar?”

  Mike stared at her for a long minute. “I’m not sure which one’s the worst.”

  It was time to take the bull by the horns, but it might help to sweeten that hunk of beef up first. Hannah got up. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.” Hannah headed straight for the baker’s rack where she picked up two cookies for Mike.

  “Try these,” she said, carrying them back to him. “The green is mild pepper jelly. The red is hot pepper jelly.”

  “Pepper jellies?” Mike said, biting into the green one. “Wow! That’s really good.”

  “That’s the mild one. Let me know what you think when you get to the hot one.”

  Mike picked up the other cookie and took a bite. “Oh, yeah! Really good!”

  “Do you think the red jelly is too hot for ordinary people?”

  “No. I know about twenty guys that’d love it. Can I have a couple more, Hannah?”

  Hannah got more coo
kies and then she handed him something else, a piece of information he might not have. It was time to trade it for something he had that she didn’t have. “I went to see Margaret George. And Michelle checked out her daughter, Sara.”

  “Who are Margaret and Sara George?”

  “Judge Colfax’s mistress and the daughter he fathered by her. Michelle and I interviewed the mother this morning.”

  “How did you find them?”

  Hannah hesitated. She didn’t want to get Dave Johansen in trouble. “I don’t exactly remember. Does it matter?”

  Mike thought about that as he ate another cookie. “Not really, as long as you cleared them. And you didn’t go to see Chad Norton?”

  “Uh . . .” Hannah thought fast. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Then how did you clear him?”

  Hannah hemmed and hawed for a moment and then she noticed that Mike was laughing. “What?”

  “I know how you cleared him. I just wanted to put you on the hot seat for a minute. I know you cleared him. You saw the phone records.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I made sure you saw those phone records. I gave them to Bill and told him to put them in his briefcase to take home.”

  “But . . .” Hannah stopped speaking as the full implication of what Mike had just told her sunk in. “You knew Andrea would find them and copy them for me?”