by Joanne Fluke
“It works on strawberries and tomatoes. That’s all I grew this year. Dad loves BLTs, and he doesn’t remember that you can’t buy good tomatoes in the winter.”
“It’s nice of you to grow them for him.” Hannah turned and headed off to the coffeepot. Jack Herman had Alzheimer’s, and Lisa had given up her college scholarship to stay home and take care of him. It was a shame, but it had been Lisa’s decision, and Hannah knew that she didn’t regret it.
Once Hannah had switched on the old-fashioned overhead fixtures and poured herself a cup of coffee from the giant urn that sat behind the counter, she went back to the bakery to check the cakes she’d baked two days previously. There were four cakes, each wrapped in plastic wrap and, covered with a layer of foil. She grabbed a sharp knife and went to the walk-in cooler to cut two thin slices from the test cake. Then she rewrapped it and carried one of the pieces out to Lisa, who was sitting on a stool at the stainless-steel work island.
“I love cake for breakfast. It makes me feel rich.” Lisa took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “It’s wonderful, Hannah. What do you think?”
Hannah tasted her slice and nodded. “It doesn’t get any better than this. Two days is the perfect settling time.”
“It was great fresh, but it’s better now. It’s almost like cheesecake without the cheese.” Hannah was pleased with Lisa’s assessment. The cake for the strawberry shortcake she’d agreed to make on camera tonight was close to perfection. “You’re reacting to the density. This cake gets heavier each day it sits in the cooler.”
“It’s going to be a huge hit with the newscasters.” Lisa finished her slice and stood up. “It’s time, Hannah. Do you want me to open the door?”
“I’ll do it. You can finish decorating the cookies for the Dorcas Circle Christmas party.”
Hannah walked through the swinging door and into her cookie shop. She was still a little nervous about appearing on television tonight, but it had been Mr. Hart’s idea, and everyone in town, Hannah included, wanted to please Mr. Hart. This was the first Hartland Flour bake-off, and they were all hoping that it would become an annual affair.
The bake-off had reawakened Lake Eden from its winter’s sleep. The town’s population, which dwindled when the summer people closed their lake cottages and moved back to the city, had swelled again with the arrival of the bake-off contestants, their families, and the spectators. Sally and Dick Laughlin, the owners of the Lake Eden Inn, had been delighted to open their doors in the off-season, and almost every shop in Lake Eden had experienced an influx of new business. Lake Eden was booming at a time when most residents were struggling to make a living, and Mr. Hart had hired locals for everything from carpentry and plumbing to ushering the audience into the auditorium. The mayor had called Hannah only yesterday and said he hoped that Mr. Hart would make Lake Eden the permanent site of the bake-off.
To advertise the four-day event, Hannah had agreed to act as a live backdrop for KCOW Television’s local news, done on-location at the school auditorium. Mason Kimball, a Lake Eden resident, was KCOW’s producer, and he’d advised Hannah to bake something colorful, like strawberry shortcake. Hannah had taken his suggestion literally and decided to assemble Strawberry Shortcake Swensen on camera tonight. There wasn’t time actually to bake the cake, but Hannah would mix up the batter, pour it into pans, and stick them into a cold oven to be baked after the show by Edna Ferguson, the school cook. Hannah would substitute the cakes she’d already baked, and after she’d presented her strawberry shortcake to the newscasters, a number would be flashed on the screen so that viewers could call the KCOW switchboard for a copy of her recipe. The number of requests would indicate how many people had watched Mason’s broadcast.
Just after she’d flipped the “Closed” sign to “Open,” the phone began to ring. Hannah knew that Lisa would pick it up in the bakery, and she ignored the insistent ringing as she unlocked the door and greeted the line of customers that awaited her.
First in the door were Bill Todd, Hannah’s brother-in-law, and Mike Kingston, his supervisor. Mr. Hart and Mason Kimball were right behind them, and Andrea was next, with Hannah’s niece, four-year-old Tracey. Andrea’s blond hair was pulled back in an intricate knot this morning, and she was dressed in a smart little navy blue suit that must have cost her a week’s salary. She looked as if she’d just stepped out of an ad for women executive fashions, and Hannah felt a small stab of envy that she quickly covered with a warm, welcoming smile. Hannah had never been able to compete with Andrea in the looks department, and she’d stopped trying when they were both in high school. Andrea and Michelle, Hannah’s youngest sister, resembled their mother, who was still a strikingly beautiful woman. Hannah was the only one who’d inherited her father’s gangly height and his frizzy red hair. Luckily, Tracey had received her mother’s beauty genes, and she was a pint-sized version of Andrea, right down to her shining blond hair.
Tracey was Hannah’s first priority, and once she’d gotten her favorite and only niece settled on a stool with milk and cookies, she turned to her other customers. She’d just begun the process of filling their orders when Lisa walked into the coffee shop. Hannah finished serving Mr. Hart, who had ordered a cup of black coffee and two of her Regency Ginger Crisps, and then she stepped over to Lisa. “Is something wrong?”
“I think so.” Lisa lowered her voice so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Norman Rhodes is on the phone, and he says it’s an emergency. I can take over for you here.”
Hannah moved aside so that Lisa could take her place behind the counter and hurried back to the bakery. Norman was levelheaded. He wasn’t the type to use the word “emergency” lightly.
Lisa had left the wall phone off the hook, and Hannah took a deep breath before she picked it up. “Hi, Norman. Lisa said there’s an emergency?”
“Mr. Rutlege came in with an impacted molar, and I’ve got some really bad news.” Norman sounded very worried.
Visions of disaster raced through Hannah’s mind. Norman knew that she’d helped Bill solve two murders already, and she was an old hand at dealing with death. Had Mr. Rutlege died in the dental chair? And who was he? Hannah knew she’d heard the name before, but she couldn’t quite; place it. “Who’s Mr. Rutlege?”
“You must have met him at the Lake Eden Inn last night. He’s tall and thin with silver hair, and he looks a little like Ricardo Montalban.”
Hannah had met dozens of strangers last night. The names were a blur, but she remembered the man that Norman had described. He was one of the out-of-town judges for the bake-off. “What happened to Mr. Rutlege?”
“It started out as a simple extraction. There was no way I could save the tooth. But he had a negative reaction to the anesthetic, and to make things even worse, I discovered that his blood didn’t clot properly.”
Hannah’s fingers tightened on the receiver. “He’s not… dead, is he?”
“Dead?” Norman sounded shocked at the question. “Of course he’s not dead. But Mr. Rutlege can’t judge the bake-off. There’s no way he’ll be eating anything that doesn’t come out of a blender for at least a week.”
STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE SWENSEN
Serves 12 (or 6 if they ask for second helpings)
To make this dessert, you will need: Pound Plus Cake *, three boxes of ripe strawberries, and a bowl of Hannah’s Whipped Crème Fraiche. (Pronounce it “Cremm Fresh” and everybody will think you speak French.)
POUND PLUS CAKE
Preheat oven to 325 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
1 1/2 cups softened butter (3 sticks)
2 cups white sugar
4 eggs
1 cup sour cream (you can substitute unflavored yogurt for a lighter cake)
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups cake flour (DO NOT SIFT—use it right out of the box)
Generously butter and flour two 9-inch round cake pans. (Don’t use Pam or spray shortening—it won’t work.)
Pour the batter into the pans and bake at 325 degrees F. for 45 to 50 minutes (The cakes should be golden brown on top.)
Cool in the pans on a rack for 20 minutes. Run a knife around the inside edges of the pans to loosen the cakes and turn them out on the rack.
After the cakes are completely cook, wrap each one in plastic wrap, sealing tightly. Wrap these packages in foil and store them in the refrigerator for 48 hours. Take them out an hour before you serve, but don’t unwrap them until you’re ready to assemble the dessert.
THE STRAWBERRIES
(Prepare these several hours before you serve.)
Wash 3 boxes of berries and remove stems. (The easiest way to do this is to use a paring knife to cut off the top part of the berry.) Slice all but a dozen or so, reserving the biggest and best berries to top each portion. Taste the berries and add sugar if they’re too tart. Stir and refrigerate, covered tightly.
HANNAH’S WHIPPED CRÈME FRAICHE
(This will hold for several hours. Make it ahead of time and refrigerate it.)
2 cups heavy whipping cream
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cups sour cream (you can substitute unflavored yogurt, but it won’t hold as well and you’ll have to do it at the last minute)
1/2 cup brown sugar (to sprinkle of top after you assemble the dessert)
Whip the cream with the white sugar. When it holds a firm peak (test it by dipping in your spatula), fold in the sour cream. You can do this by hand or by using the slowest speed on the mixer.
ASSEMBLING THE STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE SWENSEN
Cut each Pound Plus Cake into 6 pie-shaped wedges and place on dessert plates. Top with the sliced strawberries. Put several generous dollops of Crème Fraiche on top and sprinkle with the brown sugar. Garnish with the whole berries you reserved. Serve and receive rave reviews.
Made this for Norman, Carrie, and Mother. Used only one Pound Plus Cake and froze the other—Reduce Crème Fraiche recipe by half and used only two boxes of berries.
Chapter Two
Hannah added sugar to a bowl of heavy cream and finished whipping it during the weather report. It was hot under the lights, and she hoped it wouldn’t turn to soup. When it was stiff enough to hold a peak, she folded in the sour cream. In addition to adding a new taste dimension, the sour cream helped the sweetened whipped cream keep its shape. Just as she was about to dip her finger into the bowl, she remembered that she was on camera and settled for tasting it with a spoon. Then she ladled a big scoop of Lisa’s homegrown strawberries onto the slice of cake, put on generous dollops of her whipped cream mixture, popped a perfect whole berry in the center, and sprinkled brown sugar over the top. Her original creation, Strawberry Shortcake Swensen, was ready to serve to the newscasters.
The stage manager, a short, heavyset man who possessed more energy than anyone Hannah had ever met before, gave her a signal to get ready. The weather report had concluded and Chuck Wilson, the handsome, chisel-faced anchorman, was just winding up with a reminder for the viewers to stay tuned for the Hartland Flour Dessert Bake-Off, right after the network “World News”.
Hannah’s heart started to pound as she picked up the serving tray. She’d practiced all this in rehearsal, but carrying an empty tray wasn’t the same as managing a serving platter loaded with cake, plates, and forks. Careful not to trip over the heavy cables that were taped to the stage floor with something Mason Kimball called “gaffer’s tape,” but looked like plain old duct tape to her, Hannah put on the brightest smile she could muster and made her way to the long curved news desk, where the four newscasters sat. Careful not to let her smile slip, Mason had warned her about that, she presented her dessert to each of them in turn.
Hannah stood by while they oohed and aahed and then tasted her dessert. Chuck Wilson, the anchorman, made a comment about how expensive out-of-season strawberries could be. Where did Hannah find them this time of year? Hannah smiled and replied that her assistant, Lisa Herman, had grown them in her greenhouse. Dee-Dee Hughes, Chuck’s anorexic co-anchor, asked how many calories were in each slice of shortcake. Hannah said she really didn’t know, but she didn’t think it mattered because people on diets usually passed when it came to dessert. Wingo Jones, the sportscaster, said he thought pro athletes should use Strawberry Shortcake Swensen to carb up before each game. Hannah’s smile was wearing a little thin by then, but she managed to say that she thought it might be a good idea. The only member of the news team who didn’t make some sort of insipid comment was the weatherman, Rayne Phillips, who continued forking shortcake into his mouth until he’d finished every bite.
The moment the news was over, Hannah went back to the kitchen set to pack up her supplies. She opened the oven and found it as bare as Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboard. Edna had already whisked the unbaked cakes away to the school kitchen. Rather than juggle all the half-filled bowls, Hannah decided to assemble the dessert and carry it home that way. She dumped the rest of Lisa’s strawberries over the top of the cake, frosted with the whipped cream mixture, added the whole berries she’d reserved for a garnish, and sprinkled on the extra brown sugar. Then she clamped the domed lid on her cake carrier, stacked the utensils and bowls she’d used in the cardboard carriers she’d brought, and lugged everything backstage.
“You were great out there, Hannah.” Andrea was waiting for her in the wings, and she helped Hannah carry her things to the metal shelves that had been set up against the back wall.
“Thanks,” Hannah acknowledged the compliment, and looked around for her niece. When Hannah had repeated Norman’s conversation and Mr. Hart had learned that one of his judges had to be excused, he’d asked Tracey to choose the fifth member of the panel from a glass bowl containing the names of the Lake Eden Town Council. “Where’s Tracey?”
“She’s still in makeup. Bill’s bringing her here just as soon as she’s through.”
“She’s not nervous, is she?”
Andrea shook her head. “She thinks it’s fun. You’re taping it, aren’t you, Hannah? Bill set our VCR before we left the house, but I need a backup copy.”
“You’ll have two. I’m taping it, and so is Mother.”
“Mother?” Andrea’s eyebrows shot up. “She still hasn’t figured out how to set her VCR. When our cable was out, I asked her to tape a movie for me and she got two hours of Richard Simmons.”
Hannah reached out to pat her sister on the shoulder. “Calm down, Andrea. Lisa’s taping it, and so are most of my customers. You’ll have dozens of backups. I can almost guarantee it.”
“I hope so. This is Tracey’s very first television appearance, and you never know when a big-name producer might be watching. That’s how they discover child stars.”
Hannah managed a smile, the same smile she’d used when she’d been forced to listen to the idiotic comments three of the four newscasters had made about her shortcake. She wasn’t about to tell Andrea how unlikely it was that any big-name producer would be watching KCOW local television.
“I’d better go see what’s keeping Tracey.” Andrea took a step toward the door, then turned back. “You should try to do something with your hair before the contest starts. It’s all frizzy from the lights.”
* * *
Hannah felt awkward and self-conscious as the cameraman panned the judges’ table. At least she didn’t have to worry about being discovered. No big-name producer would look twice at a too-tall, slightly overweight woman pushing thirty with a perpetual dusting of flour on her face. But Tracey looked beautiful, and Hannah was proud of her niece. Tracey’s blond hair resembled spun gold under the lights, and she was poised as she dipped her hand in the larg
e crystal bowl and drew out the name of the replacement judge.
“Thank you, Tracey.” Mr. Hart beamed at her as she presented him with the slip of paper. “You didn’t draw your daddy’s name, did you?”
Tracey shook her head. “He’s not on the city council, Mr. Hart. My daddy’s a detective with the Winnetka County Sheriff’s Station.”
“Do you know what a detective does, Tracey?” Mr. Hart asked.
“Yes. A detective investigates crimes. If someone gets murdered, my daddy collects all the evidence, catches the killer, and keeps him locked up in jail until they have the trial.”
It was obvious that Mr. Hart was startled, but he managed a smile. “That was a very good answer, Tracey. I’d ask you to read the name of the new judge, but you’re not in school yet, are you?”
“I’m in preschool, Mr. Hart. That’s where you go if you’re not old enough for kindergarten. But I know how to read. If you give me the paper, I can tell you what it says.”
The camera zoomed in on Mr. Hart’s surprised face as he handed the slip of paper back to Tracey. Hannah watched as Tracey unfolded it and silently sounded out the words. Then she looked up at Mr. Hart and announced, “The substitute judge is… Mr. Boyd Watson.”
The lights came up in the audience and everyone applauded as Boyd Watson, Jordan High’s winningest coach, stood up. Hannah could see that Boyd’s sister, Maryann, was seated next to him, but his wife, Danielle, wasn’t present. She hoped there wasn’t a sinister reason for that. Several months previously, Hannah had discovered that Coach Watson bartered his wife. Danielle hadn’t been willing to press charges, but Hannah had confided in Bill, and he’d promised to keep an eye on Boyd to make sure it didn’t happen again.
Once Boyd had taken a seat in the empty chair next to Hannah, Mr. Hart introduced the night’s contestants and sent them off to the kitchen sets to add the finishing touches to their desserts. While the contestants were slicing, decorating, and arranging their creations on plates, he explained the mechanics of the contest.