by Joanne Fluke
“Check it out with your sisters and see what they think,” Mike continued, practically reading Hannah’s mind. “Call me on my cell when you decide.”
“Okay,” Hannah said, pushing back her chair.
“One more thing…I’ll give that cake to my team when they report back, but in the meantime, will you cover it for me? It’s just too temping. I can smell it all the way over here and it’s screaming, Eat me! Eat me!”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Hannah clamped the cover on the cake pan and gave a little wave as she headed for the door. Was Mike serious about sharing his information? Or would he withhold crucial clues so that he could solve the case first? As she went out the screen door and started down the road to join the women who were counting on her to help them fix dinner for the reunion crowd, she had the uncomfortable feeling that Mike was playing some sort of game with her and he hadn’t bothered to tell her the rules.
Chapter Nine
They were in the kitchen of Libby Thompson’s cottage. Libby was Lisa’s great aunt and her cottage was theirs to use for the reunion. It was a huge lime green monstrosity that had grown with the years until it took up three lots to accommodate the Thompsons, their children, the grandkids, and the great grandkids. Because the extended family was so huge and they all lived in the area, the cottage kitchen had been enlarged to hold two sets of double ovens, two stove-tops, and two industrial dishwashers. With the exception of Sally’s kitchen at the Lake Eden Inn, it was the largest kitchen at the lake and the perfect place for multiple cooks to prepare dishes for the potluck dinner.
“Oh, dear!” Marge said, looking worried.
“What’s the matter?” Hannah asked her.
“It’s this recipe. I’m just not sure it’s appropriate.”
Hannah glanced over at the recipe. It appeared to be similar to other hamburger-tomato-macaroni casserole recipes, and Hannah didn’t see how it could be unsuitable. “It looks just fine to me. What’s inappropriate about it?”
“The name. I mean…in light of what happened last night, I thought…”
“She’s talking about Gus,” Patsy spoke up.
Hannah moved over for a second look. She hadn’t bothered to read the name before, and it was written in big block letters at the top of the recipe card. FUNERAL HOTDISH, it said.
“It’s a really good hotdish,” Marge went on. “I got the recipe from Joyce Fuechte. She’s on the Funeral Committee at St. Peter’s Lutheran in Swanville, and they served it at my cousin Ted’s funeral when everybody came back from the cemetery. What do you think, Hannah? Should we use it?”
“I don’t see why not. Just don’t tell anyone what it’s called.”
“But what if they ask?” Patsy wanted to know.
“Make up something. I’m sure Joyce and the committee won’t mind. You could call it Anniversary Hotdish. They probably serve it for anniversaries, too.”
“That’s a good idea,” Marge complimented her. “An anniversary’s a happy occasion.”
“Not necessarily.”
Marge turned to give her sister a sharp look. “You still haven’t worked things out with Mac?”
“The only thing we agree on is not to agree. Would you believe Mac wanted me to ask Gus for the five hundred dollars I lent him right before he left Lake Eden? With thirty years of interest, no less! He even offered to do it for me. Can you believe it?”
“I believe it,” Marge said, shaking her head. “Mac’s never been shy about money.”
“Tell me about it! But that’s only one of the things we fought about.” Patsy glanced over at Hannah. “I don’t want to bore Hannah with the details. Hand me the onions and celery, will you, Marge? I’ll chop them up and start frying them.”
Hannah could see that Patsy was uncomfortable, and Marge didn’t look exactly calm and serene, either. Since they were already upset, she figured she might as well introduce another upsetting subject.
“You know that I found Gus, don’t you?” When both sisters nodded, Hannah went on. “Are there any questions that you’d like to ask me about how he died?”
Marge and Patsy turned to each other and frowned. “Not really,” Marge answered. “The police told us everything we needed to know.”
Hannah just stared from one to the other in surprise. Usually the victim’s relatives wanted to know everything.
“To tell you the truth, Hannah, none of the relatives really liked him all that well,” Patsy confided.
“Why?”
“Well…” Marge took over. “He just wasn’t like the brother we remember. His personality was completely different.”
“In what way?”
“He bragged a lot, and he flashed money around. People from Minnesota don’t usually do that,” Patsy explained. “And he seemed to think he was a lot better than we were. It was like he was amused by us.”
“But he came back to see all of you when he saw the notice of the reunion in the paper.”
Both Marge and Patsy shook their heads. “No, he didn’t,” Marge insisted. “Lisa and Herb didn’t put any notices in the paper. All they did was mail out invitations to the relatives in our address books.”
“So how did Gus find out about it?” Hannah was puzzled.
“We think he must have seen the posters that Lisa and Herb put up on Main Street,” Patsy answered.
“You mean, he just stumbled on the reunion when he came back to see his long-lost family?”
“Came back to gloat is more like it,” Patsy commented.
“Patsy!” Marge chided her.
“Well, it’s true. We both know Gus wasn’t like that when he left. He was a little wild, but that was because Mom and Dad spoiled him.”
“The high school girls didn’t help. The way they fell all over him made him pretty full of himself.” Marge gave a little sigh. “He was never a bad person, though…at least not back then.”
For the second time in less than an hour, Hannah kept her expression perfectly blank. Maybe Gus hadn’t been a bad person when he’d left Lake Eden, but the years that had passed had turned him into someone she wouldn’t describe as nice. A nice person didn’t talk about all he had to the have-nots in Lake Eden. A nice person didn’t try to control everything, or order other people to wait on him hand and foot. A nice person would have made allowances for Jack Herman when he learned that Jack had Alzheimer’s. Gus knew about it. Hannah had heard Marge mention it to her brother. But Gus had still faced off against Jack the night of the dance.
“Maybe Gus changed over the years,” Hannah offered, since they seemed to be waiting for her to say something.
Marge exchanged glances with Patsy. “Or maybe there’s another explanation,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“Neither one of us is sure he really was our brother Gus.”
“You think he was pretending to be your brother Gus?”
“We don’t know, for sure.” It was Patsy who answered this time. “We had a family meeting while you were in talking to Mike. Some of the relatives thought he was Gus, but the others were positive he wasn’t.”
Hannah felt knocked completely off balance. She hadn’t expected this turn of events! “If he was an imposter, he was a good one. He seemed to know a lot about your brother’s life.”
“Not that much, really.” Patsy shook her head. “We compared notes, and all he really knew were the basics. We think maybe he knew Gus and that’s why he was so good at pretending to be him. Marge could pretend to be me around people who hadn’t seen me for over thirty years. Nobody would know the difference.”
“How about his appearance? Did he look like your brother?”
Marge nodded. “We think so, but Mac pointed out that any guy just under six feet tall with dark blond hair who was close to the same age could pass for Gus.”
“Did Mac know him well?”
“Oh, yes. They were on several sports teams together at Jordan High.”
“Did your brother have any d
istinguishing features, like moles or birthmarks, or anything like that?” Hannah asked Patsy.
“Nothing.”
“How about scars from accidents or operations?”
“He didn’t have anything other than the usual scrapes and cuts from playing baseball, and they would have healed a long time ago,” Marge answered her. “And he never had surgery that we know about.”
“Do you have any idea why someone would try to impersonate your brother?” Hannah asked the critical question.
“No,” Patsy answered. “I mean, it’s not like there was an inheritance for him to collect or anything like that.”
“Marge?” Hannah turned to her.
“I don’t know, either. But we all agree on one thing,” Marge gave Hannah a long, level look. “We want you to find out for us.”
FUNERAL HOTDISH
“Anniversary Hotdish”
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack
in the middle position.
Or
Use an 18-quart electric roaster set to 350 degrees F.
Hannah’s 1st Note: Joyce says this is easiest with three people helping: one person to chop and sauté the celery and onions, one person to brown the hamburger, and one person to cook the pasta and mix the sauce.
Start by spraying the inside of your pan, or the electric roaster with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray. (I used a great big disposable turkey roaster sprayed with Pam.)
1 bunch of celery (approximately 10 stalks)
3 large onions (We used four because we love onion)
6 pounds lean hamburger (We used 8 pounds because we like it beefier)
2 two-pound boxes elbow macaroni (for a total of four pounds—Joyce’s Funeral Committee uses Creamettes Elbow Macaroni)
1 large can (50-ounces) Campbell’s tomato soup, undiluted
2 large cans (46-ounces each) Campbell’s tomato juice
1 large bottle ( 46-ounces) catsup (the Swanville Funeral Committee uses Heinz Ketchup)
1 Tablespoon brown sugar
1 teaspoon ground black pepper (freshly ground is best, of course)
Clean and chop the celery into bite-size pieces. Put them in a frying pan with a little butter and start cooking them over low heat, stirring occasionally.
Peel and chop the onions into bite-sized pieces. Add them to the frying pan with the celery and continue to cook them, stirring occasionally, until they’re translucent.
Brown the hamburger over medium heat. Be sure to “chop” it with a spoon or heat-resistant spatula so it browns in bite-size pieces. (Joyce and her committee do this in a pan in the oven.)
Drain the browned hamburger, and rinse off the fat by putting the meat in a strainer and spraying it with warm water. (We drained the hamburger, but we forgot to rinse it off with warm water—it was good anyway.)
Cook the elbow macaroni according to the directions on the box. DO NOT OVERCOOK. (Joyce’s committee does not salt the water, but we did.) Drain it and set it aside.
Combine the undiluted tomato soup, the tomato juice, and the catsup. Mix in the brown sugar and the pepper. (Joyce’s committee does this right in the electric roaster and then heats it before they add the other ingredients. We mixed up our sauce in the bottom of the disposable turkey roaster and didn’t heat it before we added the other ingredients.)
Add the cooked celery and onions to the sauce and stir them in.
Stir in the hamburger.
Add the cooked, drained macaroni and mix well.
Once everything is thoroughly mixed, cover the disposable roaster with heavy duty foil and put it into a 350-degree F. oven for 2 hours, stirring occasionally so that it heats evenly and doesn’t stick to the bottom. (If you used an electric roaster, put on the lid, turn it up to 350 degrees F., and cook it for 2 hours, stirring occasionally so that it heats evenly and doesn’t stick to the bottom of the roaster.)
Joyce’s Note: Joyce says to tell you that cooking the hotdish for 2 hours is mainly to blend the flavors since everything is precooked.
Hannah’s 2ndNote: When we made this for the family reunion, we sprinkled shredded Parmesan cheese on the top before we served it. Marge says if she ever makes it at home, she’s going to add pitted black olives to the sauce, because Herb and Jack like them so much. She’s also going to make garlic bread to go with it.
Yield: The Swanville St. Peter’s Lutheran Church Funeral Committee says this recipe will serve 75, but they always serve plenty of other side dishes with it. If you plan to use Funeral Hotdish as your only main course, I wouldn’t expect it to serve more than two-dozen people, especially if they’re really hungry.
Chapter Ten
“You’re going to take the case, aren’t you?” Michelle asked, looking young and gorgeous in white shorts to show off her tan and a pink camisole top that played peek-a-boo with her waistband. Her light brown hair was brushed back into a high ponytail held in place with a pink scrunchy, and she looked as if she were still in junior high, except for the fact that her figure was one that most junior high girls would envy.
“I’m taking the case. Lisa already asked me. And Marge and her sister asked for my help, too.” Hannah took out another head of cauliflower and plunked it on the cutting board. Edna Ferguson, the head cook at Jordan High, had arrived to join the ladies in the Thompson cottage kitchen, and Hannah had gone to her mother’s cottage to make the salad for the buffet table.
“I like Patsy.” Andrea adjusted the straps of her gaily flowered, polished cotton sundress. It had an old-fashioned bolero jacket, and it was part of Claire’s fifties collection. Hannah had seen it in the window of Beau Monde Fashions.
“We met Pasty when we were walking over here.” Michelle explained. “She said she could tell at a glance that we were sisters.”
Hannah didn’t comment, but she knew it was true. Anyone who saw Andrea and Michelle together was struck by the family resemblance. And if you added Delores to the mix, you could tell they’d inherited their petite figures and lovely features from her.
“What size is that top?” Andrea asked Michelle.
“A five.”
“It looks smaller than that. I wear a five and it looks too tight for me.”
“It’s a little too tight for me, too,” Michelle admitted. “I washed it in hot water and it shrunk. I guess it’s probably more like a size three now.”
Hannah, who’d been listening to their conversation without comment, came very close to groaning. She hadn’t worn a size three since preschool. While her sisters had gotten Hannah’s share of their mother’s petite beauty genes, Hannah had inherited her tall, gangly frame and tendency to be a bit overweight, right along with her frizzy red hair and freckles, directly from their father.
“You look nice today, Hannah,” Michelle said, as if she’d suddenly realized that Hannah was feeling left out of the conversation.
Andrea, who was always socially aware, picked up on Michelle’s cue. “Yes, you do. I like that shade of green on you.”
“Thanks,” Hannah said, glancing down at the forest green blouse that she’d paired with tan cotton pants. Forest green was one of her favorite colors. She looked up to see Michelle watching her, and she noticed again how much skin her youngest sister was exposing. “You’re wearing sunscreen, aren’t you?”
“Yes, and mosquito repellent, too. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Right.” Hannah exchanged a glance with Andrea. She was willing to bet that they were thinking the same thing. Sunburn and mosquito bites were the least of their worries. While there was nothing indecent about the way Michelle was dressed, her outfit would be certain to produce a loud chorus of wolf whistles if she walked past a construction site.
“Is Lonnie coming to the potluck tonight?” Andrea asked, mentioning the young sheriff’s deputy that Michelle had been dating for over a year.
“Yes. And that reminds me…I’d better change clothes. Lonnie doesn’t like me to wear this top around other men. He says it makes the
m slobber.”
As Michelle headed off to the bedroom to change, Andrea and Hannah exchanged grins. “I think Lonnie’s a good influence on her,” Andrea commented.
“You could be right,” Hannah agreed.
“Do you need some help chopping those vegetables?”
“Not really. This is the only good knife Mother has.” Hannah crossed her fingers to negate the lie, a leftover habit from childhood. Their mother had a whole butcher block full of expensive knives on the counter, and every one was perfectly sharpened. But if she let Andrea help her, her younger, less-culinarily talented sister would probably chop off a finger. And Hannah would much rather tell a little white lie than be responsible for that!
“What are you making?” Andrea stepped closer and peered into the bowl. “I see cauliflower and broccoli chopped up into little pieces. It’s got to be some kind of salad.”
“It is. It’s Sally’s Sunny Vegetable Salad. I got the recipe from her last year. Lisa’s doing a Caesar with black olives, Edna’s fixing macaroni salad, and Marge is making coleslaw.”
“And I’ve got my salad,” Andrea said proudly. “It’s got cottage cheese and grated onions in green Jell-O.”
Hannah tried a few comments to that in her mind. That sounds good, was an outright lie, and That’s nice, was too generic. She finally thought of something appropriate to say. “That’ll look great with the rest of the salads,” she said, just as Michelle emerged from the bedroom wearing white slacks and a lavender top with blousy, chiffon sleeves.
“Nice outfit,” Andrea complimented their youngest sibling.
“Thanks. Lonnie loves it when I wear purple and white. I think it’s because they’re the Jordan High colors.” Michelle walked over to stand next to Hannah. “Can I do anything to help?”