Death Takes the Cake

by Melinda Wells

  Within a block, I remembered that I had promised to give Nicholas the story. I plugged the hands-free device into my right ear and dialed his cell phone.

  He picked up immediately. “Del, where are you? I left two messages. How did the contest go?”

  “Oh, gosh—the contest! I forgot about it!”

  “What do you mean, you forgot? Honey, what’s going on? Where are you?”

  Briefly, I told Nicholas what had happened during the last hour. I could feel him listening intently and I imagined him taking notes.

  When I finished, he said, “This is great. I don’t write headlines, but I’m going to suggest one: ‘Cook Cooks Killer’s Goose.’ ”

  “No, please don’t do that. Make it clear in your story that the hero is Walter Hovey. He’s a darling man, a retired actor.” I spelled Walter’s last name for him. “He’s the one who thought of burying Addison in flour. If he hadn’t reminded me of the chutes above our heads, I don’t think I would have thought of it.”

  “That’s good for a sidebar: ‘Actor a Real-Life Hero.’ What hospital is he in?”

  “Walter and Addison were both taken to St. Clare’s.”

  “I’ll get over there right away. Where will you be?”

  “At West Bureau with Eileen, giving our statements.”

  “Call you later,” he said, and disconnected.

  I studied the numbers on the phone’s faceplate. As Nicholas had said, two calls were from him. The other two calls were from the same unfamiliar number. I guessed they were from Hedda Klein, demanding to know where I’d disappeared to.

  I dialed the number and knew I was right when I heard Hedda answer. As soon as I identified myself, she said, “Where the hell did you disappear to?”

  “It was an emergency. Did Viola—”

  “Viola told me, and she fixed your plates for the judges.”

  “What happened?”

  “You didn’t win,” Hedda said. “Clay Sutton did. But you and Viola tied for second place. Hers was an ice cream cake roll, with three flavors of ice cream wrapped inside a thin crust of lemon cake with lemon zest and chopped walnuts added to the batter. There’s no money prize, but you two have each earned silver medals in this first annual Reggi-Mixx Cake Contest. Next year, I think we’ll open the contest to the public. No professionals.”

  “That’s a very good idea,” I said, relieved that I wouldn’t have to be part of it again.

  “I’m sorry you lost,” Hedda said.

  I was disappointed, of course, even though I hadn’t expected to win. But something puzzled me. “What about Gordon Prescott’s Eiffel Tower and Winnie King’s spun sugar clouds? Those were both pretty amazing.”

  “Too amazing,” Hedda said. “The judges felt that ordinary people wouldn’t be able to duplicate things like that.”

  “What was Clay Sutton’s winning cake like?”

  “Absolute heaven.” Her tone was practically orgasmic. “Clay made an angel food layer cake—an angel food cake that he sliced into horizontal sections. Then he covered the layers and the top with the most luscious frosting. As a final touch, he filled the hole in the center with a mixture of fresh raspberries and blueberries, and scattered more of them around the base of the cake. Beautiful.”

  “It sounds as though he deserved to win,” I said.

  “That’s the spirit. You can congratulate him tomorrow at ten. That’s when I’ll have a cameraman here to film you admiring Clay’s cake. We’ll edit that into the show so no one will know that you went AWOL tonight.”

  I thought, Oh, they’ll know, when the story of Addison Jordan’s capture hits the media. But I was too tired to tell her about that. Instead, I promised I’d be at the test kitchens tomorrow morning, ready to be a gracious loser.

  Just as we were saying good-bye, Hedda added, “By the way, I meant to tell you that while your cake wasn’t spectacular-looking on its surface, it was delicious.”

  Hours later, after I’d recounted the events in the bakery to John, Weaver, an assistant DA, and their stenographers, and then signed the statement they had typed up, I finally walked out of the Butler Street station into the cold night air. I’d taken in my first refreshing gulp of it when I saw Nicholas leaning against the right front fender of my Jeep.

  He hurried forward and started to kiss me, but I put up one hand to hold him off. “I’m a disgusting mess,” I said.

  “A mess, yes, but not disgusting.” He leaned down and gave me a light kiss on my eyelids.

  I asked if he’d filed his story.

  “Yep, complete with a picture of your Walter Hovey with his head in bandages.”

  “How did you get in to see him? John and Weaver haven’t been there yet.”

  “I know a nurse,” he said. Then he quickly changed the subject. “I kept in touch with my guy at the Miami Herald. He told me that retired officer Eddie Cochran is no longer a resident of the Palmetto Lodge.”

  I felt my heart lurch in fear. “Did he . . . pass away?”

  Nicholas shook his head. “Mickey Jordan took him out of there.”

  I sighed with relief about Cochran. “That’s wonderful, but what about the other people stuck in that place?”

  “My friend said that Jordan put some heat on the authorities. He thinks there’ll be some big improvements right away. Anyway, I’ll keep track of that story.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Come here.” Nicholas drew me into his arms.

  “Your clothes—I’ll get flour all over them.”

  “We’ll clean up together. Your place or mine?”

  “Mine,” I said. “Eileen is spending the night with her parents.”

  “Is your shower big enough for two?”

  “Absolutely,” I said.

  Later, clean and wrapped in each other’s arms, we were awakened from a deep sleep by the insistent ringing of my phone. I leveraged myself up on one elbow and reached across Nicholas’s chest for the receiver.

  “Hey, baby!” It was Phil Logan.

  I squinted at the glowing number on my bedside clock. “Phil, it’s three o’clock in the morning.”

  “I didn’t call for a time check. Are you sitting down?”

  “I’m lying down.”

  “Then sit up for some big news—you won the baking contest!”

  I did sit up, abruptly, accidentally hitting Nicholas in the chest with my elbow.

  “Ouch,” he said.

  I whispered, “Sorry.”

  Phil was still talking. I tuned in again to hear him say, “It’s not as good as a total victory, but isn’t this great?”

  “I missed part of that, but I’m awake now. What are you talking about, Phil?”

  “You won—well, actually, you and Viola Lee tied for first place. You don’t have to split the money because I’ll make sure you each get the full twenty-five thou.”

  “But I thought Clay Sutton won.”

  Now Nicholas was sitting up, too, with his ear pressed close against the receiver, listening with me.

  “The little bleached blonde twerp cheated. Fortunately, I had each of the kitchens outfitted with hidden cameras. Remember, I gave you a hint—I told you not to do anything in there you wouldn’t want people to see. When I played the tapes tonight, I saw that he’d had contraband under his clothes, taped to his chest.”

  “What, drugs?”

  “Not that kind of contraband. He’d concealed cut layers of gourmet angel food cake—not from Reggi-Mixx—and Paula Deen frosting in plastic wrap and Baggies. To make everybody think he’d been cooking, he turned on the oven and whipped up a batch of cake mix, baked it just until he got the aroma, then poured the batter down the sink. I swear, could this story get any better?” Before I could reply, he added, “But you can’t say anything about this. What he did is going to be exposed when the show airs.”

  “I’m speechless. Does Viola know?”

  “Hedda’s calling her now. Tomorrow, you and Viola will be told on camera that Clay cheated
and you two tied for first. Act surprised.”

  “I will,” I said. “Thanks, Phil.”

  “Oh, one more thing. I got a message for you from Mickey. He said to tell you he found Iva and everything is going to be okay.”

  “Where was she?”

  “At the Belle Chateau Hotel, in Bel Aire. Actually, I’m the one who found her, even though I wasn’t looking. Somebody I know on the staff told me she had checked in. That hotel is so discreet he could have lost his job for telling who was there, but a maid tipped him off that she hadn’t left her room and wasn’t ordering room service. He called me at midnight tonight, saying he was worried about her maybe doing something to herself, so I told Mickey and he went there and took her home. I guess they had a little bump in the marital road. Awhile ago when I called him about you tying for first, he gave me the message for you. Said to tell you everything was all right with them.”

  “I’m so glad,” I said. Glad and relieved. Phil and I said good night and ended the call.

  “Congratulations on your triumph,” Nicholas said.

  “Thanks, but you can’t tell anybody you know what happened.”

  “I won’t.” He kissed me gently. Teasingly. “But will you allow me to congratulate the winner in my own special fashion?”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I whispered.

  Recipes

  ■ Della’s Orange Dreamsicle Cake ■

  Butter or margarine

  Flour

  1 package orange cake mix

  3 eggs

  1 cup sour cream

  ⅓ cup vegetable oil

  ⅔ cup water

  1 teaspoon orange extract

  Zest of one large orange

  1 package orange Jell-O

  Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Using butter or margarine (not cooking spray) grease and lightly flour a 9 × 13 cake pan.

  Take 1 box of orange cake mix (I prefer Duncan Hines) and pour the contents into a mixing bowl, but don’t follow package instructions. Instead add eggs, sour cream, vegetable oil, water, orange extract, and the zest of an orange to the dry mix.

  Mix for 30 seconds, until ingredients are moist. Then beat on medium for 2 minutes, occasionally scraping down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula.

  Pour into the prepared baking pan. If using a dark, coated metal pan, bake at 325 degrees for 30 minutes. If using a glass or a light metal pan, bake at 350 for 30 to 32 minutes, until the cake begins to separate from the sides of the pan.

  When the cake is out of the oven, poke holes in it. (I use the small round end of a pastry brush.) Now, mix 1 package of orange Jell-O with 1 cup boiling water. Add ½ cup ice water. Dissolve Jell-O thoroughly and then pour the mixture over the cake. Refrigerate until completely cooled, about an hour.

  FOR THE TOPPING

  1 package orange Jell-O

  1 package vanilla pudding mix

  1 cup cold whole milk

  Zest of one large orange

  1 teaspoon orange extract

  2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

  8 ounce container Cool Whip

  1 cup cold whipping cream

  2 tablespoons powdered sugar

  Mix 1 package orange Jell-O and 1 package vanilla pudding mix with 1 cup of cold whole milk. Add the zest of 1 large orange and 1 teaspoon orange extract. Mix until thickened. Add 2 teaspoons of good (pure) vanilla extract. Then gently fold in 1 container (8 ounces) of Cool Whip.

  In a separate bowl, beat until stiff: 1 cup of cold whipping cream and 2 tablespoons of powered sugar. (Add a little more powdered sugar if you like it a bit sweeter.) Gently fold the sweetened whipped cream into the Orange Jell-O and Cool Whip mixture. Immediately spread this combination over the top of the cake. It will form a topping about ½ inch thick.

  Refrigerate the cake for 2 or 3 hours before cutting into pieces to serve. Keep cake refrigerated between times you cut and serve. Serves 12-15.

  ■ Della’s Chocolate Cheesecake ■

  16 ounces of plain chocolate wafers

  1 teaspoon cinnamon

  ¾ cup melted butter

  ¾ cup granulated sugar

  3 eggs

  3 eight-ounce packages of cream cheese (softened

  to room temp.)

  12 ounces melted semisweet or German chocolate

  2 tablespoons good quality cocoa

  1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

  3 cups sour cream

  ¼ cup melted butter (this is in addition to the butter

  listed above)

  FOR THE CRUST

  Put the chocolate wafers into a plastic Ziploc bag and crush them with a rolling pin into crumbs. With a fork, mix crumbs with the cinnamon and blend in the melted butter. Press this mixture firmly against the bottom and sides of a well-buttered 10-inch springform pan and chill for about an hour.

  FOR THE FILLING

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Beat the granulated sugar with the room temperature 3 eggs until mixture is light. Gradually add the softened cream cheese. Beat until smooth. Stir in the melted chocolate, cocoa, and vanilla extract. Beat in thoroughly the sour cream. When smooth, fold in ¼ cup melted butter. Pour this batter into the chilled shell. Bake the cheesecake for 45 minutes. Do not overbake. When cheesecake is removed from the oven, it should seem quite liquid. Chill the cheesecake for at least 4 hours. To serve, remove the springform circle and put the cheesecake onto an attractive cake plate, with the bottom of the pan underneath.

  A FINAL TOUCH

  I like this cheesecake plain, but offer whipped cream on the side for your guests.

  ■ Ann Talman’s ■ Lemon “Funeral” Cake

  Actress Ann Talman’s Grandma Richardson passed this recipe down the generations. She called it her “Funeral Cake” because when anyone in her circle passed away she would make it up fast and take it over to the family. Annie was eight years old when she began helping her grandmother make this cake.

  1 package yellow or lemon supreme cake mix

  2 eggs

  ¾ cup vegetable oil

  ¾ cup water

  1 package lemon instant pudding mix

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Put cake mix and instant pudding mix into a bowl, add water and oil and mix. Add eggs, one at a time, and beat well after each addition.

  Grease and lightly flour either a Bundt pan or an angel food cake pan. Pour batter in and bake for 55 to 60 minutes. Remove from oven and leave in pan for 10 minutes. Turn cake out onto a plate. While still hot, pour glaze over top.

  FOR THE GLAZE

  1½ cups orange juice

  4 tablespoons melted butter

  2 cups confectioner’s sugar

  Whip the three ingredients in small mixing bowl.

  Punch 100 holes with an ice pick into the top of the warm cake. Pour the glaze mixture over the cake, into the holes. It will run off the sides, but just keep scooping it up and putting it onto the top until glaze is mostly absorbed.

  ■ Nancy Koppang’s ■ Black Russian Cake

  This luscious recipe is from my friend, Nancy Koppang. It’s both simple to make and impressive when it’s served.

  1 package of your favorite chocolate supermoist

  cake mix (anything from devil’s food to double

  chocolate fudge)

  ¾ cup water

  4 eggs

  ⅓ cup oil (I prefer canola)

  ⅓ cup vodka

  ⅓ cup Kahlua or Tia Maria (or other coffeeflavored

  liqueur)

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

  Grease and flour a fluted tube pan (a standard Bundt, or one of the pretty new designs. If you use one of the more complicated patterns, I find it best to use a baking spray with flour. PAM makes a good one, and there are others.)

  In a large mixing bowl, combine cake mix, eggs, and liquids. Mix per package directions. Pour into prepared pan and bake for 45-50 minutes, or until it tests done. (I find a wooden toothpick is pretty reliable)

  Cool 10 minutes i
n the pan, then invert onto a baking rack. Cool completely.

  This cake is very tasty, and it can be sliced and served plain or with whipped cream or Cool Whip.

  My favorite way to serve is to make a thin powdered sugar glaze: powdered sugar, a little butter, a little water beaten well, about the consistency of heavy cream. You’ll want to slip strips of waxed paper under the cake because there will be drippings. Spread the glaze evenly over the cold cake and let it set thoroughly. Melt 2 or 3 squares of unsweetened chocolate with 1-2 teaspoons of butter. Let it cool a bit, but it still must be really runny. Pour it over the cake as completely as you can so the white glaze isn’t showing. Once you’re happy with it, remove the strips of waxed paper and let the cake set completely.

  ■ Della’s Fruitcake Bread Pudding ■

  Comedians joke about fruitcakes, but one year my husband received three of them as gifts from crime victims that he’d helped. That’s when I came up with the idea of turning fruitcake into a fruity bread pudding. Here’s the recipe I concocted, but I’m sure you can come up with variations to make this dessert your own.

  1 fruitcake, approximately 2 pounds, sliced and

  broken into pieces

  8 large eggs

  1¼ cups granulated sugar

  1½ cups heavy (whipping) cream

  1½ cups whole milk

  1 teaspoon good vanilla extract

  Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. (Don’t let the oven get hotter.)

  Lightly butter the bottom and sides of a 9 ×13 baking pan. Arrange the fruitcake pieces in the dish.

  In a large bowl, whisk the eggs, sugar, cream, milk, and vanilla to blend. It becomes a smooth, thin custard. Pour the custard over the fruitcake pieces. Press the pieces of fruitcake down gently so that all of them are submerged in the custard mixture. Let stand for 30 minutes, checking from time to time to press the fruitcake pieces into the custard.