by Joanne Fluke
Everyone else jumped on the bandwagon, thanking Delores for inviting them and complimenting her on her menu choice. When the thanks had died down, Delores rose to her feet and gestured toward Carrie. “We have some very good news, but I’ll let Carrie tell you. And after she does, I have some personal good news of my own.”
Delores sat down, and Carrie stood up. Hannah had a feeling they’d rehearsed this. “I’m not sure you know this, but Marge and Patsy asked us to hold a silent auction for the Honus Wagner baseball card that belonged to their brother, Gus. We sent out notices yesterday morning, and as of two o’clock this afternoon, our Granny’s Attic Web site had received five firm offers.”
“Tell them about the minimum opening bid,” Delores prompted.
“The minimum opening bid for the card was one million, five hundred thousand dollars,” Carrie said. “That’s the least it could sell for. And the fact that we’ve received five bids in less than forty-eight hours shows that there are a lot of interested parties out there. I wouldn’t be surprised if the winning bid is over two million dollars.”
“When does the bidding close?” Andrea asked.
“Next Saturday morning at ten. We gave them a week to discuss it with their clients and enter a bid.”
“That’s wonderful!” Hannah clapped her hands. And then she asked the question she knew was on everyone’s mind. “Who gets the money?”
“It’ll be divided evenly between Marge and Patsy,” Delores told them. “Gus never married, and he had no children. Marge and Patsy are his only surviving siblings.”
Herb gulped so loudly, they all heard it. “You mean Mom and Aunt Patsy could each inherit almost a million dollars?”
“That’s right,” Carrie told him, “minus our commission, of course. And now Delores has something to tell you.”
“It’s the real reason we’re celebrating tonight,” Delores said, smiling at all of them, “but not even Carrie knows why.”
Carrie nodded. “It’s true. She wouldn’t tell me. She said she wanted to tell everyone all together.”
All eyes were on Delores, and she clearly reveled in the moment. Hannah decided to ask the critical question. “What are we celebrating, Mother?”
“Remember when we all got together at the Inn the last time?” Delores asked.
“I remember.”
“And I said I was working on a secret project, and I’d tell you if it actually happened?”
“I remember,” Hannah said.
“Well…it happened.”
“What happened?” at least four of them asked at once, and Delores laughed.
“The secret project was my book. And a big New York publisher bought it.”
For a moment they were all shocked speechless, and Hannah was the first to recover. “Congratulations, Mother! Is it a book about antiques?”
“No, it’s fiction.”
Carrie’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “A Regency Romance?” she guessed.
“You’re right!” Delores told her, looking very proud of herself. “And I used every one of you for characters. Isn’t that marvelous?”
Uh-oh! Hannah said under her breath. “You used all of us?” she asked aloud.
“Of course, dear. One must write from life, you know. My three dear daughters are in it, of course, and I think I did a good job of depicting your true characters.” She turned to Carrie. “Naturally you’re in it, Carrie. And so is Mike, and Norman, and Lisa, too. You’re there, Herb. And Bill. And Lonnie. I even put some members of my Regency Romance group in it.”
“How about me, Grandma Delores?” Tracey asked.
“Of course, darling. I couldn’t write a book without putting you in it. You might not be the age you are now, though, so don’t look for a six-year-old girl.”
“Okay, Grandma. I won’t.”
“You know what they always say about real people in books, don’t you?” Delores asked them, her eyes scanning the crowd.
“No, what do they say?” Hannah finally asked, when no one else spoke up.
“They say that people don’t recognize themselves because they don’t see themselves the way others do.”
Uh-oh! Hannah’s mind said again. This could be very bad.
“I did my best to be entirely truthful and take off the rose-colored glasses I normally wear to view my friends and loved ones,” Delores went on. “I wrote you the way you truly are, the way someone who didn’t know and love you like I do, would describe your flaws and your strengths.”
“Oh, brother!” Hannah breathed, a little louder than she had intended. She was rewarded by a smile from Norman and a gentle nudge of approval by Mike.
“I didn’t quite hear you, Hannah. What was that again?” Delores asked her.
Hannah thought fast. “I said Oh, Mother to get your attention. I wanted to ask you when they’re going to publish your book.”
“Sometime next year.”
Perfect, Hannah thought. That should give me enough time to sell The Cookie Jar and move hundreds of miles away.
“Will you let me know exactly when?” she asked.
“Of course. Are you going to hold a launch party for me, dear?”
“Oh, definitely!” Hannah said, wondering how much money it would cost to launch her mother straight to the moon.
As she walked to her cookie truck, still sandwiched between Mike and Norman, Hannah had a sneaking suspicion that the last of the summer evenings had come and gone. There was a crispness to the air that spoke of leaves turning colors, pumpkins ripening on the vine, and chrysanthemums triumphing as the last flower of autumn before winter’s icy fingers sprinkled snow on the flowerbeds.
“What time is it anyway?” Hannah asked, since she’d forgotten her watch on her dressing table.
“Almost eight,” Norman answered her.
“How about a movie at my place,” she suggested, now that she’d finally caught up on her sleep. “I rented two of the newest releases at the video store, and I’ve got the leftover Black Forest Brownies.”
Mike shook his head. “It sounds great, but I’ve got to pass. I dropped Ronni at the mall on my way here, and I have to meet her and drive her home. Her car’s not working right.”
A likely story, Hannah thought. As a matter of fact, it was the very same story Shawna Lee had used when she’d lived in Mike’s apartment complex. “Ronni’s out there shopping?” she asked, just barely managing to keep the pleasant expression on her face.
“No, she’s job hunting. She doesn’t make that much at the sheriff’s station, and she needs to get part time work.”
“Well, I hope she finds something. Tell her I wish her luck.”
“That’s nice of you, Hannah.” Mike gave her a warm smile. “I’ll tell her.”
Hannah was grateful that Mike couldn’t read her mind and know that the real reason she hoped Ronni would find work was so that she’d spend less time at the apartment complex with Mike. But some things were better left unsaid, and Hannah turned to Norman. “How about you? Would you like to watch a movie with me?”
“I’d love to, but I can’t. I promised Mother I’d meet them at Granny’s Attic and check their Internet connection. Your mother tried to get online this afternoon, and she kept getting error messages. It’s probably just a loose connection or a reset problem, but they want to keep up with the bids on the Honus Wagner card.”
“You can’t blame them for that!” Mike said, grinning at Norman. “It’s hard to believe that a little piece of cardboard with a picture on it could go for that much.”
They arrived at her cookie truck, and Norman reached out to touch Hannah’s shoulder. “See you for coffee tomorrow, Hannah.”
“Me, too,” Mike said, reaching out to pat her other shoulder. “Bake some more of those Black Forest Brownies, okay? They’re the best brownies I ever ate.”
And with that the two men in her life walked away toward their respective vehicles. No kisses. No hugs. Nothing but pats on her shoulder.
She started the engine and gave a little wave as she passed Norman and Mike. Then she drove down the gravel side road that wound through the stand of trees, and turned onto the access road toward the highway.
She zipped along at good speed. There was no traffic to speak of. When she turned on Old Lake Road, it was also deserted, and she was just turning in at her complex when the cell phone in her purse rang. Her first instinct was to ignore it, but it rang again, and then again. Hannah stopped at the gate and pulled out her cell phone. It could be some sort of emergency. Not that many people had her cell phone number.
“Hello,” she said, hoping it wasn’t a random sales call.
“Hannah. I’m so glad I caught you! I tried your condo, but I got your answer machine.”
For a moment that lasted no longer than a heartbeat, Hannah was puzzled by the identity of her caller. Then she recognized his voice, and a smile spread over her face. “Hi, Ross,” she said. “Are you in California?”
“No, I’m in Minneapolis.”
“That’s wonderful! Are you coming to Lake Eden?”
“I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m only here for eight and a half hours. I was flying to New York and we had to land here, some kind of mechanical problems. They’re transferring us to another flight, but it won’t leave here until four-thirty in the morning.”
“So you’re stuck at the airport until four-thirty?”
“Not the airport. Since the delay is longer than eight hours, they put us up at the Airport Hilton. Do you know where that is?”
“Sure,” Hannah said, her smile growing wider.
“How about driving down? I haven’t seen you in a long time, Hannah. And I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” Hannah said.
“So how long do you think it’ll take you to get here?”
Hannah did some fast calculations, taking into account the light Sunday night traffic and the fact that she’d just filled her gas tank. “Forty-five minutes,” she told him.
“Great! There’s an all-night diner across the street at the end of the block. I’ll get a table and meet you there. I’m hungry, and all I’ve had is airplane food.”
“I’ll be there,” she said. “’Bye, Ross.”
She clicked off the phone and tossed it back in her purse. And then she did something she’d never done before. She slid her gate card into the slot, drove in when the wooden arm rose to admit her, did a sharp U-turn over the flowerbed that acted as a center divider, and drove right back out again.
“Not rejected after all,” she said, grinning as she stepped on the gas and headed for the highway.
BLACK FOREST BROWNIES
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
4 one-ounce squares semi-sweet chocolate (or the equivalent— ¾ cup semi-sweet chocolate chips will do just fine.)
¾ cup butter (one and a half sticks)
1½ cups white (granulated) sugar
3 beaten eggs (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (or cherry extract)
1 cup flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
½ cup pecans
½ cup chopped dried cherries (or ½ cup well-drained Maraschino Cherries finely chopped)***
½ cup semi-sweet chocolate chips (I used Ghirardelli)
Prepare a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan by lining it with a piece of foil large enough to flap over the sides. Spray the foil-lined pan with Pam or other nonstick cooking spray.
Microwave the chocolate squares and butter in a microwave-safe mixing bowl for one minute. Stir. (Since chocolate frequently maintains its shape even when melted, you have to stir to make sure.) If it’s not melted, microwave for an additional 20 seconds and stir again. Repeat if necessary.
Stir the sugar into the chocolate mixture. Feel the bowl. If it’s not so hot it’ll cook the eggs, add them now, stirring thoroughly. Mix in the flavor extract (vanilla or cherry.)
Mix in the flour and stir just until it’s moistened.
Put the pecans and dried cherries in the bowl of a food processor and chop them together with the steel blade. If the dried cherries stick to the blades too much, add a Tablespoon of flour to your bowl and try it again. (If you don’t have a food processor, you don’t have to buy one for this recipe—just chop everything up as well as you can with a sharp knife.)
Mix in the chopped nuts and cherries, add the chocolate chips, give a final stir by hand, and spread the batter out in your prepared pan.
Bake at 350 degrees F. for 30 minutes.
Cool the Black Forest Brownies in the pan on a metal rack. When they’re thoroughly cool, grasp the edges of the foil and lift the brownies out of the pan. Put them facedown on a cutting board, peel the foil off the back, and cut them into brownie-sized pieces.
Place the squares on a plate and dust lightly with powdered sugar if you wish.
Jo Fluke’s Note: The ladies at Delta Kappa Gamma deserve credit for this recipe. After I spoke to them in Camarillo, CA, they gave me a huge box of dried fruit that included the dried Bing cherries that I used in these brownies.
Hannah’s Note: If you really want to be decadent, frost these with Neverfail Fudge!
Index of Recipes
Viking Cookies
Salmon Cakes
Dill Sauce
Edna’s Easy Celery Sauce
Hannah’s Special Carrot Cake
Cream Cheese Frosting
Raisin Drops
Cocoa Fudge Cake
Chocolate Frosting
Neverfail Fudge Frosting
Funeral Hotdish
Sally’s Sunny Vegetable Salad
Red Velvet Cookies
Rocky Road Bar Cookies (S’Mores)
Party Cookies
Lemon Fluff Jell-O
Wanmansita Casserole
Clara & Marguerite Hollenbeck’s Mexican Hotdish
Chocolate Peanut Butter Cake
Scandinavian Almond Cake
Black Forest Brownies
Baking Conversion Chart
These conversions are approximate, but they’ll work just fine for Hannah Swensen’s recipes.
VOLUME:
WEIGHT:
OVEN TEMPERATURE:
Note: Hannah’s rectangular sheet cake pan, 9 inches by 13 inches, is approximately 23 centimeters by 32.5 centimeters.
Winter in Lake Eden, Minnesota, is the perfect time to curl up by a cozy fire with something—and someone—sweet. But while bakery owner Hannah Swensen can provide herself with the confections, cuddling will have to take a backseat to sleuthing when her sometime squeeze becomes a murder suspect…
With the launch party of her mother’s novel around the corner, Hannah has a dress to fit into and a date with her sister, Andrea, at Lake Eden’s new health club, Heavenly Bodies. Dragging herself out of bed on a frigid Minnesota morning for exercise, of all things, is bad enough. Discovering a dead body floating in the gym’s Jacuzzi? Okay, that’s worse. Nor does it help that there’s a plate of The Cookie Jar’s very own cream puffs garnishing the murder scene. The fact that they were purchased by none other than Hannah’s part-time flame, Detective Mike Kingston, is simply the icing on what’s shaping up to be one very messy cake…
Mike may be the prime suspect in the murder of man-eating bombshell Ronni Ward, but he’s by no means the only one. Ronni, a fitness instructor at both the sheriff’s department and Heavenly Bodies, made a nasty habit of throwing her own heavenly body at every man, eligible or not, who crossed her path. Plenty of Lake Eden’s ladies won’t miss Ronni, including her ex-fiancé’s former girlfriend, the angry mother of one of her would-be conquests, and even the mayor’s wife. Could any of them have wanted her gone badly enough to make it happen? Mike’s recruited Han
nah to find out, and, as any suspended, suspected detective would, he’s micro-managing her every step of the way…
Between trying to narrow the list of Ronni’s enemies down to fewer than half the town’s female population and resisting the urge to remove Mike from the running by throttling him herself, Hannah has her plate full. Trouble is, when it comes to cookies—and to murder—there’s always room for one more…
Here’s an exciting sneak peek at
CREAM PUFF MURDER,
coming next month!
The only good thing about Heavenly Bodies Fitness Center and Spa at five-thirty in the morning was the absence of noise. The incessant beat of workout music, the buzz of conversation, the clatter of weights and the occasional grunt and groan were silenced. The only sound was Hannah Swensen’s labored breathing as she went through her exercise routine.
Never a big fan of muscle aches and pains, Hannah found this morning’s workout particularly grueling. Perhaps it was because her sister, Andrea, performed every bend and stretch so effortlessly. She even made her mile on the machine Hannah had nicknamed the “Walk to Nowhere” look like fun.
“So how’s Moishe’s feeder working out?” Andrea asked, not a whit out of breath despite the fact she was currently duplicating the rigors of cross-country skiing.
“Fine,” Hannah answered, choosing a one-syllable word so that her sister couldn’t hear her pant. Mike Kingston had given her a present for her twenty-three-pound orange and white tomcat. It was called a “Kitty Valet” and it consisted of two bowls attached to wide tubes. All you had to do was fill one tube with water and the other with kitty crunchies. When Moishe drank water or ate food, it was immediately replenished by the water and food in the tube.
“How long has it been now? Two days?”
“Yes.”
“And he hasn’t pried the tops off yet?”
“No.”