by Joanne Fluke
“No one knows why he left, dear.” Delores stopped speaking for a moment, and then she asked, “What’s that noise?”
“What noise?”
“It’s a frying noise. I’m on my cell phone, and it must need recharging. Anyway…the real reason I called is to ask you if you have any crackers.”
Hannah glanced at the pantry. The door was ajar, and she could see a large package of assorted crackers sitting on the shelf. “I’ve got some.”
“Good. Lisa needs you to bring them. Mike made his Lazy Day Pâté for the potluck tonight, but he doesn’t get off work until six and he won’t have time to run back into town for crackers.”
“Consider it done. Anything else anyone needs?” Hannah flipped a Salmon Cake and it sputtered as it landed on its uncooked side.
“Just your Special Carrot Cake. Lisa and Herb were raving about it at the brunch, and everybody’s looking forward to trying it.”
“That’s good to hear,” Hannah said, flipping the other three Salmon Cakes.
“I’ll see you there, dear. I’ve got to go now. That frying noise is getting louder, and I just know we’ll get cut off.”
Hannah said goodbye and rubbed her sore neck as she walked over to hang up the phone. She supposed she should have admitted that her stove was the source of the frying noise her mother thought was a waning battery, but her lunch was almost ready. Since it was past two in the afternoon and she still had to assemble several veggie and dip platters, there wasn’t a lot of time to waste. She had just dished up her first helping and was placing it on the coffee table in the living room when her doorbell rang.
Hannah muttered a few choice words she never would have used around either of her nieces. Whoever it was had lousy timing. Then she picked up her plate (she knew better than to leave one of Moishe’s favorite entrees within kitty reach) and carried it to the door. “Who is it?” she asked, rather than squint through the peephole.
“Mike. I need you, Hannah.”
Those four little words were definitely the key to Hannah’s heart. She couldn’t resist a plea for help, even from the ugliest, meanest person in Lake Eden. And Mike Kingston was about as far from that description as you could get. He was ruggedly handsome, a tall Viking-type of a man, and although he was tough and fit and could pulverize an opponent in a fight, she was fairly sure there wasn’t a mean bone in his body. “Come in,” she invited, unlocking the door and holding it open for him.
“Thanks, Hannah. I had to run out here to talk to your downstairs neighbor, and I thought I’d drop by to pick up those crackers, if you’ve got them.”
“I do. But Sue and Phil aren’t in any trouble, are they?”
“Not at all. Phil witnessed an accident on the freeway when he was coming home from his night shift at DelRay Manufacturing. I just took his statement.” Mike glanced down at the plate in her hand and his eyes widened. “That looks good! What is it?”
“Salmon Cakes, hot off the stove…or the cell phone, in Mother’s case.”
“Huh?”
“I was talking to her when I was frying them and she thought…never mind. It’s not important. Sit down and eat. I’ve got plenty for two.”
There was a yowl from the feline who was watching Mike with half-narrowed eyes, and Hannah turned to reassure him. “That’s two and a cat. I have enough for us, and for Moishe.”
“You heard her. Relax, Big Guy.” Mike gave Moishe a scratch under his chin as he sat down on the couch. Then he cut off a tiny piece of the Salmon Cake and held it out on the palm of his hand. “Here you go. This should tide you over until you get yours.”
Hannah watched as Moishe licked it up daintily. She could hear him purring all the way across the room, and she ducked into the kitchen to dish up another plate.
“What’s this sauce on top?” Mike asked when she emerged from the kitchen with her own plate. “It’s great!”
Hannah didn’t want to tell him, but she couldn’t lie outright to a man she’d come within a hair’s breadth of marrying. “It’s one of Edna Ferguson’s tricks,” she explained, hoping he wouldn’t ask for details.
“Tell me. Whenever I visit my sister, she sends me home with fried chicken. It gets kind of dry when I heat it in the microwave, and I bet this sauce would be good on it.”
Poor handsome bachelor who had to bring home leftovers from his sister’s table! Hannah almost felt sorry for him until she remembered that scores of Lake Eden ladies would jump at the chance to let him taste their home cooking. But he did need her, if only for cooking advice, and Hannah couldn’t resist telling him the truth. “Okay, I’ll let you in on the secret, but you can’t tell anyone else.”
“If I do, you’ll have to kill me?” Mike quipped, flashing the mischievous grin that always made her feel weak in the knees.
“Oh, I wouldn’t kill you. I’d lock you up in a closet and…” Hannah clamped her mouth shut. Some things were better left unsaid.
“And what?”
“And leave you there until I decide what to do with you,” Hannah finished her sentence with the best ambiguity she could think of on the fly.
“Okay. I promise I won’t tell anyone Edna’s secret. What is it?”
“Well, I usually make my own dill sauce with fresh baby dill, mayo, and a little cream, but it’s better if you make it the night before, and I didn’t know I’d be frying Salmon Cakes today.”
“Okay. I’ve had your fresh dill sauce with your Salmon Loaf. It’s great, but tell me what this is.”
“Campbell’s Cream of Celery soup.”
“What?”
“It’s Campbell’s Cream of Celery soup, undiluted. It makes a good sauce in a pinch. Really. All you have to do is heat it in the microwave, and it’s even better if you mix in a little dry sherry, but I’m helping Lisa with the potluck buffet tonight, and I thought I’d better not.”
“What time are you going out to the lake?”
“Four. I’m stopping by The Cookie Jar first to pick up my cakes, and then I’m heading out. How about you?”
“I should be there by six-thirty as long as I remember to take your crackers with me. Save me a dance tonight, will you?”
“Absolutely,” Hannah said, hoping her heart wasn’t beating so hard that he could see it through the light sleeveless shell she’d worn to church.
“Tell Andrea, too. And Michelle. I’m crazy about the Swensen sisters.”
Hannah smiled, but she would have liked it a lot more if he’d said that he was crazy about just her. Whatever. Mike was Mike, and you had to either take him the way he was or not take him at all.
SALMON CAKES
1 small can salmon***
2 slices bread, crusts removed (you can use any type of bread)
1 beaten egg (just whip it up in a glass with a fork)
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce (or hot sauce, or lemon juice)
½ teaspoon dry mustard (that’s the powdered kind)
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon onion powder
2 Tablespoons butter
Open your can of salmon and drain it in a strainer. Remove any bones or dark skin. Flake it with a fork and put it in a small mixing bowl.
Cut the crusts from two standard-sized slices of bread and tear the middle part into small pieces. Add the pieces to the bowl with the salmon.
Add the egg and mix it all up with a fork.
Mix in the Worcestershire sauce (or lemon juice, or hot sauce,) the dry mustard, salt, and onion powder.
Stir it all up until it resembles a thick batter with lumps.
Divide the batter into thirds. (You don’t have to be exact—nobody’s going to measure them when you’re through. They’ll be too busy eating them.)
Spread a sheet of wax paper on a plate and pick up one of the lumps of batter. Squeeze it together with your hands to form a firm ball. Place it on the wax paper and flatten it like a hamburger patty. The patty should be about a half-inch thick.
Hannah’s 1stNote:
If you flatten your Salmon Cakes too much and you’d like to make them thicker, just go ahead. All you have to do is gather the batter into a ball again and start over.
Shape the other two lumps of batter into balls and then patties. Let them sit on the wax paper for a minute or two to firm up even more.
Melt the two Tablespoons of butter in a frying pan over medium heat.
Place the Salmon Cakes in the pan and fry them over medium heat until they’re golden brown on the bottom. (That should take approximately 2 minutes.) Flip the patties over and brown the other side. (Total frying time will be approximately 4 to 5 minutes.) Remember that all you’re doing is frying the egg. Everything else has already been cooked.
Drain the Salmon Cakes on a paper towel and transfer to a serving platter. Serve with Dill Sauce, or Edna’s Easy Celery Sauce. They’re also wonderful with creamed peas, or creamed corn.
Hannah’s 2ndNote: When I do these for the family, I use my electric griddle and triple the recipe so I have nine Salmon Cakes. If you don’t have an electric griddle or you prefer to use a frying pan, you can fry them and then put them in a single layer in a pan in an oven set at the lowest temperature to keep them warm until you’ve fried them all. Make sure to refrigerate any leftovers. I’ve put leftover Salmon Cakes in the refrigerator overnight and heated them in the microwave the next day for lunch. They’re not quite as good as freshly fried, but they’re still very good. (They’re also good cold.)
Hannah’s 3rdNote: You can also make Tuna Cakes, Shrimp Cakes, Crab Cakes, Chicken Cakes and any other “cake” you can think of. All you need to do is substitute 6 to 8 ounces of the canned, or cooked and chopped main ingredient of your choice for the salmon. (This is why I always keep a can of salad shrimp, a can of tuna, and a can of chopped chicken in my pantry.)
Yield: Serves 3 if you team it up with a nice green salad and a slice of something yummy for dessert. (If you serve it alone, as a total lunch, it’ll work for one person with a big appetite, one person with a little appetite, and a cat.)
DILL SAUCE
Hannah’s Note: This sauce is best if you make it at least 4 hours in advance and refrigerate it in an airtight container. (Overnight is even better.)
2 Tablespoons heavy cream
½ cup mayonnaise
1 teaspoon crushed fresh baby dill (if you can’t find baby dill, you can make it with ½ teaspoon dried dill weed, but it won’t be as good)
Mix the cream with the mayonnaise until it’s smooth and then mix in the dill. Put the sauce in a small bowl, cover it with plastic wrap, and refrigerate it for at least 4 hours.
EDNA’S EASY CELERY SAUCE
Hannah’s 1stNote: If you make your Salmon Cakes at the drop of a hat, the way I occasionally do, you won’t have time to make the Dill Sauce. All Edna’s Easy Celery Sauce requires is a can of cream of celery soup and some milk or cream.
Hannah’s 2ndNote: The can of cream of celery soup should be in your pantry as a staple, along with a can of cream of mushroom soup, and a can of tomato soup, and a can of cream of chicken soup. They’re a good base for any sauce you want to make on the fly.
One can of cream of celery soup, undiluted (10 to 11 ounces depending on brand name—used Campbell’s).
Milk or cream to thin
Open the can. Dump it in a small microwave-safe bowl. Heat it in the microwave until it’s piping hot. (Try 30 seconds and see if it’s hot enough. If not, heat at 15-second increments until it is. Thin it with the milk or cream to sauce consistency.)
Drizzle the sauce over the Salmon Cakes, sprinkle on a little parsley or fresh dill if you happen to have it, and serve immediately.
Hannah’s 3rdNote: Edna tells me that you can also use undiluted cream of chicken soup (if you’re using the chicken variation,) cream of mushroom soup, or cream of garlic soup. She also said something about cream of asparagus soup for Shrimp Cakes, but I haven’t tried it.
Chapter Three
Hannah knew that if she had to hear one more chorus of the Beer Barrel Polka, she’d scream. It reminded her of the dance she’d shared with Marvin Dubinski only minutes before, and that wasn’t a pleasant memory. Once dinner had been served and the dessert buffet had been set out on the bar, the dancing had begun. Hannah had danced nonstop for at least thirty minutes, going from partner to partner. Her first partner was Mike, and then Norman, followed by Bill, Lonnie, Mayor Bascomb, and Jon Walker. Her last partner, Marvin Dubinski, had finished Hannah off for the night. They’d danced to a polka, and Marvin had stepped on her feet a total of six times. Now she was hiding out in a booth with Marge Beeseman and her family, hoping that Marvin wouldn’t spot her and ask her to dance any more polkas.
Mercifully, Frankie and the Frankfurters, the local band Lisa and Herb had hired for the dance, segued into a waltz. At least Hannah thought it was a waltz. It had a one-two-three, one-two-three rhythm, but the band played it so rapidly, most of the couples on the floor gave up trying to move to the music and came to a halt. The few that did attempt to dance whirled around as fast as the blades in the window fans, bumping into the stationary couples and making them scramble to get out of the way.
At least Frankie, if that really was his name, realized his mistake. He led his group into a slower number, one with a cuddle-up-and-barely-move rhythm that restored order to the dance floor. Hannah tuned back into the conversation at hand, just in time to hear Marge Beeseman’s question. Since Hannah was sandwiched in the big round booth between Marge and her brother, Gus, she had no choice but to be a party to their conversation.
“Did you find what you wanted to take from your old room?” Marge asked.
“Part of it. I couldn’t find my favorite bedspread. I wanted to hang it on the wall in the guest bedroom. That has a western theme.”
“Are you talking about the chenille one with Roy Rogers on it?”
“Yeah. The trunks were all labeled, and Lisa showed me the one from my bedroom. I thought it would be there, but it wasn’t. I guess I’ll have to go to some antique stores to find another one.”
“That might be really expensive,” Marge cautioned him. “Some of those old memorabilia items go for an arm and a leg.”
“Doesn’t matter. I don’t mind paying for what I want. It’s one of the advantages to having money.”
Hannah was still watching the dance floor. The havoc was over, and the mirrored ball that hung from the ceiling rotated like the planets in the science project her father had helped her make in ninth grade. As the ball revolved, it sent beams of colored light down to illuminate the dancers who were now moving sedately. Since everything was calm, and there was no bump or tumble imminent, she turned her attention from the dance floor to Marge’s brother, Gus. Hannah assumed that he was just trying to impress people, but he certainly mentioned money a lot!
Gus Klein was a handsome, well-dressed man in his fifties. Just an inch or so short of the six-foot mark, he had carefully styled dark blond hair with an elegant streak of silver over his left temple. The silver streak made him look distinguished, and Hannah suspected a beautician had placed it there. She knew she shouldn’t make snap judgments, but he seemed to be a man who was all about appearances. Some people believed that if the package was appealing enough, it didn’t really matter what was inside. Hannah was not one of them. Naturally, she preferred an attractive package, but it was what was inside that really counted.
What was inside Gus Klein? Hannah hadn’t known him long enough to know, but he seemed a bit shallow to her, and she didn’t like his continual bragging about his life in Atlantic City. He’d told them all that he had a standing appointment for a manicure at his office, he called in a masseuse when he felt tense, and when he entertained, he ordered food from the most exclusive restaurant in town and had it delivered to his penthouse condo.
She did know that Gus expected everyone else to wait on him. When Marge had asked him to join her at the buffet line, he’d told her he was too busy talking to some Brainerd cousins and practically
ordered her to bring him a plate. The same thing had happened with the dessert buffet. It was as if his time was too valuable to stand in line like the rest of the relatives. He’d sent Lisa off to bring a sampler plate of dessert and coffee for the table, and then he’d passed out what he’d said were real Cuban cigars that he’d imported at great expense.
Hannah looked around for Andrea and spotted her on the dance floor with Bill. Andrea was the fashion expert, and Hannah hoped she’d assessed Gus’s clothing. While Hannah didn’t know a whole lot about men’s attire, or women’s either for that matter, she knew that the clothes Gus wore weren’t mail order. They weren’t mall clothing, either.
So what was the bottom line on Gus? Hannah thought about it for a minute. Most would say that he was handsome, charming, and sophisticated. And for those who didn’t dig deeper, all of the above would be correct. But Hannah had the feeling that Gus was none of the above. She couldn’t help but feel that he was playing a part, trying to appear urbane and elegant when he was really a beer-and-brat guy. Something wasn’t quite right about Gus Klein’s public persona, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.
Hannah glanced at Marge. Lisa’s mother-in-law was dressed to the nines tonight in an outfit that Hannah termed aging hippie, a phrase she’d never utter out loud for fear she’d hurt Marge’s feelings. Some ladies liked to look sleek. Delores was a case in point. Her outfits were always tailored to embrace her perfect figure. Other ladies liked flounces, full skirts that swung out like cowgirls at a Saturday night square dance. Marge liked flutter. Butterfly wings and swooping fringes had nothing on her tonight. She was wearing a purple chiffon pantsuit that fluttered around her legs when she walked, and almost cleared off the table when she made a sweeping gesture.