by Joanne Fluke
Hannah laughed, and her tender mood disappeared. Mike was okay if he could crack a joke. “Are we through with my statement?” she asked.
“Almost.” Mike flipped to a fresh page in his notebook. “Do you remember seeing anything at the scene that was curious, or suspicious?”
“Yes, but I didn’t realize it until I heard that the driver had overdosed on his heart medication. There was a pillbox on the floor, one of those plastic ones with little compartments for the days of the week.”
Mike reached for his cell phone. “The crime scene techs are out there now. I’ll call and tell them not to miss it.”
“Don’t bother. I have it.”
“What?”
“I almost tripped over it, so I picked it up and zipped it in my parka pocket. I didn’t know it was important then, but I thought someone might need the pills and I’d better take them with me. And then, with all the confusion at the hospital, I forgot I even had them.”
“Did you touch them?”
“Only to pick them up. And I was wearing gloves because Michelle and I had just waded through the ditch and it was cold.”
“Did you take off your gloves when you stuck the pillbox in your pocket and zipped it up?”
Hannah did her best to remember, but that part was a blank. “I don’t know. Buddy was calling us, and we were in a hurry to meet the paramedics, and ... I just don’t remember.”
“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. If you did, we can eliminate your fingerprints.”
Hannah heard a familiar scratching noise in the hallway, and she knew she had to warn Mike. “Put your feet up. Quick!”
“What?”
“Just do it. Prop them on the coffee table and tuck in your arms. And hurry!”
“Okay,” Mike agreed, sounding amused. “What’s going on?”
“You’ll see. It’s the midnight cat crazies.”
“What are cat craz ... oof!” Mike let out a gasp as Cuddles landed on his chest. He watched in obvious amazement as the two cats raced in circles across the living room rug, Cuddles in the lead and Moishe chasing her. “Hey guys,” he said. “What are you do ... oof!”
Hannah laughed. She couldn’t help it. This time Moishe had landed on Mike’s chest. “You’re a launch pad,” she said. “Usually they stick to the floor. That’s why I told you to put your feet up. But I guess this time they’re performing for you, and they’re trying something new.”
There was a loud scratching noise as the two cats barreled into the laundry room, and a thump followed by a louder thump as they jumped up on Hannah’s washer and dryer, and then down again.
“I don’t remember the Big Guy doing that before,” Mike said, putting his feet back down on the floor.
“He never has. It’s Cuddles. She goads him into it. They love their game of chase and they haven’t broken anything ... yet. But I don’t really care because they’re having so much fun.”
There was a bang from the kitchen, and they heard Michelle gasp.
“What the ...” Lonnie exclaimed, stopping short. “Cuddles just jumped up on the refrigerator and Moishe skidded straight into the door! He seems to be okay, though. He just shook his head a couple of times, and then he leaped up on the counter.”
Hannah laughed. “It’s kitty crazy time. Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon. They’ll tire themselves out in a couple of minutes, and then they’ll sleep all night.”
“Cuddles seems to be having a great time here,” Mike said, snapping his notebook shut.
“She’s fine.” Hannah knew the interview was over and she was relieved. Recalling the sight of the bus driver dangling above her had not been pleasant.
“Do you think she misses Norman?” Mike asked the same question that Michelle had earlier.
“Yes. I’ve seen her go to the window by the stairs and look out, as if she’s waiting for him to come and pick her up. She looks sad. And before you say anything, I don’t think I’m imagining things.”
“I believe you, and I think you’re right. Cuddles just adores Norman. Every time I went out there to see him, she was right there. If we went into the kitchen, she followed us. And if we went into the den, she tagged along. My sister has a cat and he doesn’t do that. How about Moishe? Does he follow you around?”
“Not unless it’s breakfast and he wants his food. Or dinnertime and he’s hungry. Moishe’s more independent. He’s not waiting for anybody to come and get him. He knows he’s home.”
Mike looked away for a minute. When he turned back, there was a sheen of moisture in his eyes. “It’s sad,” he said. “Cuddles really loves Norman, and Norman loves Cuddles. I’ve been out there a couple of times for dinner since Bev and Norman got engaged.”
Hannah was perfectly silent. She didn’t know if she wanted to hear what was coming next.
“Norman’s not happy. I think he’s making a big mistake by marrying her.”
Again, Hannah was silent. She agreed completely and there was nothing for her to say.
“They’re not good together. As much as Norman tries, his heart’s not in it. And she’s ... clingy. I don’t know what she’s doing, what she’s up to. But I do know she’s not right for Norman.”
“Sour grapes?” Hannah asked, and then she regretted it. Mike had dated Doctor Bev, and she was prying.
“Not sour grapes. I wouldn’t go out with her again on a bet. There’s something wrong there, something that gets the cop in me anxious.”
“You think she’s a criminal?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s just she’s not ... real.”
“What do you mean?”
“My instincts tell me she’s playing a part. I thought I knew her. I really did. But she’s different with Norman than she was with me.” Mike’s eyebrows furrowed in a frown. “The way things are now, I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her.”
Hannah wasn’t about to touch that one with a telephone pole. She just sat and waited for Mike to say more.
“I know why they’re getting married. Norman told me. We’re friends, good friends, and we talk. I’m all he’s got now. He needs someone to talk to, and Bev won’t let him see you anymore. Norman told me that every time he says he wants to see Cuddles, she begs him not to. She told him that the cat dander gets into his clothes and gives her a terrible allergic reaction.”
Oh sure! Hannah thought sarcastically. If she’s that allergic to cats, she couldn’t treat any of her patients who have cats. And she certainly couldn’t visit Norman at his place, because Cuddles once lived there.
“You don’t believe that?” Mike asked, noticing Hannah’s suspicious expression.
“Not really.”
“Well, neither do I. I think it’s just an excuse to keep him from coming out here and seeing you.”
Hannah thought back. Norman had come to see Cuddles a total of twice since he’d gotten engaged to Doctor Bev. On both of those occasions, he’d acted terribly guilty, and Hannah was convinced that Bev hadn’t know where he’d gone. “You could be right,” she said.
“Norman told me about Diana and how, after they broke up, Bev didn’t tell him she was pregnant. My question is ... why didn’t she? Why didn’t she tell him? He would have married her back then. What was she waiting for? And why did she wait this long to find him and tell him? It just doesn’t make sense, Hannah. There’s something wrong there. And I don’t want to see my best friend hurt.”
BUTTERAMA CAKE
Preheat oven to 325 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
Hannah’s 1st Note: Cassandra told Mother she got this cake recipe from her aunt. They made it in a Bundt pan and called it Kentucky Butter Cake.
The Cake Batter:
1 cup softened butter (2 sticks, 8 ounces, ½ pound)
2 cups white (granulated) sugar
4 whole eggs***
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoons vanilla e
xtract
3 cups all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
1 cup buttermilk (If you don’t have buttermilk on hand, you can use cream. The cake will taste a bit different, but it’ll still be wonderful.)
*** - If Andrea were making this cake, I’d have to tell her to crack the eggs and take them out of the shell before adding them to her mixing bowl.
Get out a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan (metal or glass, either will do) and either spray it with Pam or another nonstick baking spray or butter it generously on the inside. (If you use butter, this could bring the total butter count up to a pound!)
To make the cake batter:
By hand in a large bowl or with an electric mixer (it’s easier with a mixer, of course) beat the butter for a minute or two.
Sprinkle in the white sugar, beating as you sprinkle. Mix the butter and the sugar together until they turn into a light, fluffy mixture.
Add the eggs, one at a time, beating after each addition.
Add the salt, baking powder, baking soda, and vanilla extract. Mix them in thoroughly.
Add 1 cup of the flour and beat it in.
Mix in half (½ cup) of the buttermilk. Mix it in thoroughly.
Add the second cup of flour and mix well.
Mix in the rest of the buttermilk (½ cup).
Add the remaining cup of flour and beat until the batter is smooth and without lumps.
Pour the cake batter into the 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan you prepared. Smooth out the top with a rubber spatula so that it’s evenly distributed in the pan.
Bake the cake in a preheated 325 degree F. oven for 50 minutes. Then take it out of the oven and set it on a cold burner on the stovetop or a wire rack to wait for its Butter Sauce.
The Butter Sauce:
1 cup white (granulated) sugar
¼ cup water (I’ll just bet you could use Kentucky Bourbon instead of the water here, but I haven’t tried it yet.)
½ cup butter (1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound)
1 Tablespoon vanilla
To make the Butter Sauce:
Put the cup of sugar, the ¼ cup of water, and the ½ cup of butter in a medium-size saucepan.
Hannah’s 2nd Note: Don’t use a saucepan that’s black or brown on the inside. You’ll be using it again later when you make the frosting and you need to be able to see when the butter you’ll heat in it turns brown.
Heat the three ingredients on MEDIUM heat until the butter is melted, but DO NOT let the mixture come to a boil.
Hannah’s 3rd Note: You can also do this in a microwave-safe bowl on HIGH for 90 seconds. (I used a 4-cup Pyrex measuring cup.) If the butter is not melted at the end of that time, microwave it on HIGH in 20-second increments until it is.
Pull the saucepan over to a cold burner, shut off the hot one, and add the Tablespoon of vanilla extract. (Be careful—it could sputter a bit)
Use a fork, food pick, or a thin wooden skewer to poke holes all over the top of your cake. Don’t be too gentle. You want the holes to go all the way down to the bottom of the cake pan.(I used a thin wooden skewer and poked about 45 holes in mine.)
Pour the warm butter sauce over the top of the cake as evenly as you can. If you used a saucepan, don’t bother to wash it. You’ll be using it again when you make the frosting.
Hannah’s 4th Note: So far there’s ¾ of a pound of butter in this cake. Add it up if you don’t believe me. If you frost it with Great-Grandma Elsa’s Brown Butter Icing, it’ll be only a quarter cup shy of a whole pound!
Let the cake sit out on the wire rack or cold burner for at least 10 minutes so that the Butter Sauce has time to soak into the holes you poked.
Refrigerate your Butterama Cake for at least 2 hours. At the end of that time, just leave the cake in the refrigerator and start the Brown Butter Icing.
Brown Butter Icing:
¼ cup butter (½ stick, 2 ounces, pound)
2 cups powdered sugar (confectioner’s sugar—pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (you could also use Ken- tucky Bourbon)
2 Tablespoons heavy cream (that’s whipping cream, but you could also use half and half which is light cream)
½ cup chopped pecans or walnuts (optional—to sprinkle over the top of the cake after you frost it.)
To make the frosting:
Put the ¼ cup butter into a medium-size saucepan. (You already have one sitting on a cold burner if you made the Butter Sauce on the stovetop. If you used the microwave instead, make sure that the saucepan you choose is not colored black or brown inside. (I made that mistake and I couldn’t see when the butter had browned.)
Place the saucepan on the stovetop and heat it at MEDIUM-HIGH heat. The butter will melt and then it will brown. Continue to heat it until it has browned.
When the butter is a nice caramel color, (this took about 5 minutes for me), remove it from the heat and shut off the burner.
Stir in the 2 cups of powdered sugar.
Stir in the vanilla extract.
Put the 2 Tablespoons of heavy cream in a small cup and drizzle them in, stirring as you go until the frosting is smooth and spreadable.
This is another one of those wonderful no-fail frostings. If it turns out to be too runny, add a bit more powdered sugar. If it turns out to be too thick and stiff, add a bit more cream. Continue to adjust these two ingredients until the frosting is the right consistency.
Take the Butterama Cake out of the refrigerator and frost it with Brown Butter Icing. If you like, you can sprinkle some chopped pecans or walnuts over the top to decorate your cake.
Return the cake to the refrigerator until you’re ready to serve it. Like revenge, this dish is best served cold.
Chapter Eight
When the alarm went off the next morning, Hannah woke up to discover that she ached all over. In other circumstances she might have thought that this had something to do with the fact that two pillow-hogging cats, who seemed to morph into much bigger creatures in the dark of night, had shared her bed. But in this case, she was almost certain her soreness and stiffness was caused by last night’s trek through the ditch with Michelle, when they’d waded through the deep snow to get to the band bus.
“Come on, you lazybones. It’s time to get up,” Hannah said to the two cats who were stretched out sideways on her mattress, taking up much more than half the bed. They didn’t move. They didn’t even flicker a whisker in her direction, so Hannah tried again. “Daylight in the swamp. Time to get up and chase all the mice that came in during the night.”
Moishe opened one yellow eye and looked at her. His mouth remained closed, but Hannah could have sworn she heard him say, Good try Hannah, but there’s no mice in here. All I smell is the leftovers from the Hamburger Bake you made for Mike. Let us sleep for gosh sakes! Just because you have to get up before the crack of dawn doesn’t mean that Cuddles and I have to lose sleep.
“All right. You can sleep,” Hannah said, bowing to that penetrating one-eyed stare. “I’ll fill your automatic feeder before I go.”
She needed coffee. She’d probably die without it. Hannah thrust her feet into her moccasin slippers, thrust her arms into the faded chenille robe she’d purchased at Lake Eden’s only thrift store, Helping Hands, and shuffled down the hall.
The door to the guest room was closed. Michelle must still be sleeping. She certainly couldn’t blame her! Lonnie and Mike hadn’t left until almost two in the morning.
As she entered the living room, she saw that the light was on in the kitchen. She must have been so tired that she’d forgotten to turn it off before she’d gone to bed. It was a good thing that her mother didn’t know, or Delores would tell her best friend, Carrie. Norman’s mother was “green” through and through, and she would be terribly worried about the number of kilowatts that Hannah had wasted. Carrie was concerned about pollution, global warming, the state of the economy, and the size of the global footprint that everyone but her was leaving. Delor
es had called Hannah on Christmas morning to tell her that Carrie had given her a goat. This wasn’t a real goat, Delores had rushed to explain. It was a goat that an international organization shipped to an impoverished family in a country neither Hannah nor her mother had ever heard of, so that they could have milk for their children to drink.
Carrie was a nice woman. Hannah liked her a lot. She had an abundance of good qualities, but she was a little crazy. It was wonderful that her new husband, Earl Flensburg, thought her eccentricities were charming.
Coffee. She needed it so much she could almost smell it. Hannah padded across the living room carpet and stepped into her white-walled kitchen. She put her hands over her eyes for a moment. The banks of florescent lights overhead seemed as bright as the sun in a cloudless sky.
“Good morning,” an angel said to her. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes,” Hannah answered in a weak voice, squinting as she made her way to the Formica table that would be an antique in about fifteen year. Of course it wasn’t really an angel. It was her youngest sister Michelle. But Hannah thought Michelle was acting exactly like an angel should act as she set a mug of lifesaving brew directly in front of her.
One sip and Hannah felt almost human. Two sips and she remembered her name. Three sips and she was capable of doing simple sums in her head. Five sips and she could not do quadratic equations. Of course she’d never been able to do quadratic equations, but she did remember the failing grade she’d gotten in algebra.
“More?” Michelle asked, wisely speaking in one-word sentences. She’d stayed at her older sister’s condo many times before, and she knew Hannah’s routine in the morning.
“Yes, thanks,” Hannah said. And then she waited, her head resting on her folded arms, until Michelle had brought the second mug of coffee. She took another sip, and a smile spread over her face. Perhaps this day wouldn’t be such a horrible day after all!