Chocolate Cream Pie Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  Hannah could feel the room start to spin around her. Lynne had told her about her bruises the preceding night, but she’d had no idea that Ross had actually done that!

  “What did you do when Ross attacked you?” Mike asked.

  “I hit him with a pot I had on the stove and ran out of the apartment and down the stairs to the street. I was holding my arm and one of my friends saw me outside. She asked me what happened and I said I thought I’d broken my arm and I needed a ride to the hospital.”

  “And your arm was broken?” Mike asked her.

  “No, they took X-rays and found my shoulder was dislocated. They popped it back into place and kept me overnight. They asked me if I wanted to press charges and I said I didn’t.”

  “Why?” Mike asked her.

  “Because I wasn’t hurt that badly. The black eye would heal and they’d already fixed my dislocated shoulder. And I knew the bruises he’d given me when he grabbed me would fade.”

  “What happened after that?” Hannah asked, a question she hadn’t asked the previous night.

  “When I got back to the apartment the next day, Ross was gone, along with all of his things. He’d left a note saying that he was very sorry, but he thought it was best if we didn’t see each other again.”

  Hannah took a deep, steadying breath. “But you did see him again.”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t until years later when I was married to Tom. I didn’t know anything about it, but several of Tom’s clients had invested in one of Ross’s independent films. It turned out to be Crisis in Cherrywood.”

  “How did you get the lead in the film?” Mike asked.

  “Ross called me. He apologized for fighting with me back in college and told me that he didn’t blame me for calling off our engagement.”

  “But you didn’t call it off, did you?” Hannah asked her.

  “No, Ross did by leaving that note saying that he thought it would be best if we didn’t see each other again.”

  “What else did he say?” Mike asked her.

  “He asked me if it was possible for me to let bygones be bygones and audition for the lead in his film.”

  “And you said yes?” Hannah was amazed that Lynne would even have talked to Ross after what she’d been through.

  “Not at first, but I told Tom and he urged me to try out for the film. He said it was important to his clients and it might be a real break for my acting career. He promised me that he’d go with me to Lake Eden and be with me the whole time. And he was.”

  “Did Tom know why you and Ross broke up?” Hannah asked.

  “No, not really. I told him about my black eye, but I downplayed the rest. I said we’d called off our engagement because it just hadn’t worked out.”

  “Hello,” Sally said, coming up to their table. “Could I interest you in trying my newest white wine?”

  Mike shook his head. “Sorry, Sally. I’m working tonight. Just coffee for me, please.”

  Sally turned to Hannah and Lynne. “How about it, girls?”

  “As long as it’s not a sweet wine, I’m game,” Lynne answered.

  “Me too,” Hannah said. “What type of wine is it, Sally?”

  “It’s a Fumé Blanc made by the Mondavi Winery. And don’t let the name put you off. It’s true that they’re known for their cheaper wines, but this one is top of the line. It has a hint of sweetness, but only a hint. And it’s as smooth as one of my Chocolate Cream Pies.”

  “Chocolate Cream Pie?” Hannah was immediately interested. “I’ll be delighted to try your new wine, but please tell me more about your pie. I’ve never seen that on the menu out here.”

  “That’s because it’s never been on the menu before,” Sally told her. “I’m trying it out on my customers for the first time tonight. And I knew that just mentioning it would intrigue you, Hannah. Everyone knows you love chocolate.”

  “So do I,” Lynne said quickly. “Chocolate is number one on my list of favorite things.”

  “Not me, can’t stand it,” Mike said, and all three women turned to look at him in shock.

  “I’m joking,” he told them. “Don’t look at me like I have three ears and two heads. I love chocolate and you know it, Sally. I order your chocolate soufflé every time I come out here.”

  “That’s true. And the last time you ate it I think you must have licked out the inside of the soufflé dish. It was so clean, I thought twice about putting it in the dishwasher.”

  “Forget the entrée,” Hannah told her. “I’ll just pig out on dessert.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Lynne echoed her sentiments.

  Sally gave a little laugh. “It’s okay, girls. I’ll bring a whole Chocolate Cream Pie to your table right after you order your entrées. And I’ll join you for the chocolate fest.”

  “Then you’d better bring two pies,” Mike warned her. “Four chocolate lovers and only one pie doesn’t compute.”

  “Done,” Sally promised. “I hope you’ll try my new soup tonight. It was Dick’s idea and he named it Pub Soup.”

  “That sounds interesting,” Hannah commented. “What’s in Pub Soup, Sally?”

  “It’s a really easy recipe, just cheddar cheese, cream, garlic, and beer. But the flavors meld perfectly and it’s delicious.”

  “And the beer is why it’s called Pub Soup?” Lynne guessed.

  “That’s right.”

  Mike looked very disappointed. “I’d love to try it, but I’m afraid I’ve got to pass. I can’t have any alcohol when I’m working.”

  “Not even a quarter cup of beer? I don’t think there’s even that much in a bowl of soup, Mike.”

  “Well . . . I guess that would be all right.”

  “Not only that, the soup is made on the stove in a large pot. If the surface area of the soup pot is large, some of the alcohol evaporates.”

  “How much?” Hannah asked. She’d often wondered about that when she used alcohol in baking.

  “Twenty-two percent of the alcohol is gone in twenty minutes if the soup is heated to one hundred eighty degrees. According to the article I read, it all depends on the surface area of the pan and how long it’s cooked or baked.”

  “You convinced me,” Mike said, putting on his famous grin, the grin that was so sexy, it always made Hannah feel slightly out of breath. “And I’m sure you convinced the ladies, too, especially since Lynne is staying here and I’m driving Hannah home. All Hannah has to do tonight is eat your fantastic food, drink your special wine, and get some really good, peaceful sleep.”

  If only life were that simple, Hannah thought, gazing at Mike as he continued to talk to Lynne. But life isn’t simple. Life is horribly complicated, filled with sorrow and longing for what might have been. I do want Mike to find Ross and lock him up for the pain he caused me. I really do. Ross hurt me emotionally, and now I know that he could hurt me physically, too. But at the same time, I want him to love me again, to hold me in his arms and tell me how much he loves me, only me. And it just about kills me to realize that something I want so badly just isn’t going to happen ever again.

  PUB SOUP

  You can use a Crock-Pot or make this soup on the stove.

  3 cans (10.5-ounce each) condensed cheddar cheese soup (I used Campbell’s)

  1 can of domestic beer

  ⅓ cup real bacon bits (make your own or buy them at the store—I used Hormel real bacon bits from the store)

  8-ounce package of shredded sharp cheddar cheese

  1 teaspoon jarred fresh garlic (or 1 clove, peeled and crushed)

  1 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper (or 1 tea- spoon seasoned pepper – I used Lawry’s Seasoned Pepper)

  3 Tablespoons sour cream to float on top of the soup bowls

  3 Tablespoons real bacon bits to sprinkle on top of sour cream to garnish

  1 Tablespoon finely chopped fresh parsley to sprinkle on the bacon bits to garnish

  If you are using a slow cooker to make this soup, spray the inside of the crock with Pam or
another nonstick cooking spray. If you are using a large saucepan and making the soup on the stovetop, there’s no need to spray the inside.

  Open the soup cans and empty them in the crock or the saucepan.

  Hannah’s 1st Note: Save one soup can to use as a measuring cup. Don’t bother to wash it out because all it contained was the same soup that’s already in your Crock-Pot or saucepan.

  Open the can or bottle of beer and fill the empty soup can. Pour it into the crock or the saucepan.

  Add the third-cup of bacon bits to the crock or the saucepan.

  Add the shredded sharp cheddar cheese to the crock or the saucepan.

  Add the teaspoon of jarred garlic.

  Add the teaspoon of coarsely ground black pepper.

  Stir or whisk the contents of the crock or the saucepan until all the ingredients are thoroughly combined and the cold soup is smooth.

  Turn the slow cooker on LOW and walk away. Since you worked so hard, you can finish the can or bottle of beer if you like.

  Heat the Pub Soup for approximately 2 hours in the Crock-Pot or until the soup is piping hot.

  If you’re using a saucepan for your soup, turn the burner on MEDIUM and heat your soup, stirring every minute or so. This will keep your Pub Soup from sticking to the bottom of the saucepan. Heat until the soup is piping hot.

  Once your soup is the proper temperature, stir it again to check for thickness. It should be approximately as thick as cream of mushroom soup or potato soup.

  If your soup is too thick, add a little heavy cream to thin it slightly. If your soup is too thin, add a little more shredded cheddar cheese and check for thickness again once the cheese has melted and you’ve stirred the crock or the saucepan again.

  Ladle the Pub Soup into soup bowls or large mugs, spoon a dollop of sour cream in the middle of the bowl, sprinkle the top of the sour cream with bacon bits, add the finely chopped parsley on top of the bacon bits, and serve.

  Hannah’s 2nd Note: When I eat this delicious soup, I always stir the garnishes in before I take my first spoonful.

  Sally’s Note: At the Lake Eden Inn, we always serve bowls of Pub Soup with warm French rolls and soft salted butter, or a warm baguette with soft, salted butter. When Dick serves it at the bar, he teams it up with assorted salted crackers in a napkin-lined basket.

  Hannah’s 3rd Note: Be sure to tell your guests that it’s perfectly acceptable to dunk their bread in the soup if they’re so inclined.

  Chapter Twelve

  She was terribly off-balance and everything around her was fading into little dots of color, very like a pointillist painting. The bright noon sky was taking on a reddish glow, and her legs were shaking as she gripped the branch above her and hung on for dear life. If she fainted now, she’d crash to the ground and break into little pieces like a china doll falling from a high shelf.

  “I can’t do any more,” she told him. “I don’t feel good, Ross.”

  “You have to do more. You promised you’d get a bushel for me. I need them, Hannah. I have to give them to Doug so he’ll give me the money.”

  “But . . . I think I’m going to faint.”

  “Don’t you dare!”

  His voice was hard and Hannah’s knees began to buckle. There was a weakness in her legs that she couldn’t seem to control. “I can’t, Ross. I want to help you, but I can’t!”

  “When we got married, you promised to love and obey. Now obey and pick some more! You don’t have a whole bushel and I need this bushel full to the brim!”

  She reached up and plucked another apricot from the branch above her head. Just one apricot, but it was large, and juicy, and it looked delicious. Even though she knew she should drop it into the bushel basket, she was so hungry and thirsty she brought it to her mouth and took a huge bite.

  “What are you doing? Are you crazy? You’re ruining my life! Get another apricot, Hannah. Pick another one right now! I need at least another dozen, maybe more.”

  “I . . . I can’t,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. How could she cry when she was so thirsty? It was impossible, but tears were rolling down her cheeks. And then she was sobbing as she reached up to get another apricot and place it in the bushel basket.

  “Hurry! We don’t have much time!” he ordered. “Faster! Pick faster! How can you pick so slowly when I love you a bushel and a peck.”

  And that was when Ross started to sing an old song that her great-grandmother used to sing to her. I love you a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck. A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap. A barrel and a heap and I’m talking in my sleep. About you, about you.

  “Great-grandma Elsa used to sing that to me,” she told him.

  “I know. She taught it to me.”

  “But . . . how could she have taught it to you? She died when I was only six years old!”

  “That’s probably true, but she’s here right now. Say hello to your great-grandmother, Hannah.”

  Hannah looked down at Ross, who was standing by the trunk of the tree. And her great-grandmother was standing right next to him!

  “Gigi!” Hannah used her nickname for her great-grandmother. “How did you get here?”

  “He came to get me. Be very careful, Hannah. Don’t believe a word he says. He’s a liar and a con man.”

  “Hush!” Ross shouted, pushing Hannah’s great-grandmother to the ground. “Go back where you came from!”

  “No!” Hannah screamed. “Stay with me, Gigi! I need you! Please stay with me!”

  Ross waved his hand and Hannah’s great-grandmother disappeared. Then he turned to give her an icy cold smile. “She’s gone and that’s your punishment, Hannah. Now you’ll never see her again and it’s all because you didn’t fill the bushel basket with apricots. If you want me to change my mind, you’d better pick more now. And hurry!”

  “But . . . I can’t pick any more apricots! There aren’t any more,” she said, staring up at the bare, fruitless branches above her. “I picked them all, Ross.”

  “No, you didn’t. There were more on that tree and I know it. What did you do? Eat them?”

  “No! Just that one, Ross. I only ate one. And it was because I was so thirsty.”

  “That one apricot would have convinced him to give me the money. You killed me, Hannah! It’s all your fault! You killed me and all you care about is yourself!”

  She could feel herself slipping, beginning to fall as his words shot arrows through her mind. He hated her now and there was nothing she could do to convince him to love her again. It was too late. She’d missed the boat and now she was missing the ladder, falling down to the bed and grabbing the pillow to try to break her fall.

  She might have screamed then. She wasn’t sure. But she must have made a sound because Moishe gave a startled yowl, scrambled to his feet, and raced to the foot of the bed as if the demons of hell were chasing him.

  “Wha . . . ?” Hannah half-formed a question as she sat up and tried to catch her breath. And then she got out of bed and hurried to the bathroom because she suddenly felt so thirsty, she could barely stand it. Perhaps she shouldn’t have had Sally’s freshly baked salted pretzel appetizer at the Lake Eden Inn last night. She’d dipped Sally’s delicious pretzels in Kalamata olive aioli and that had been salty, too. She’d consumed more salt than she usually did, and that must be why she was so thirsty this morning.

  But was it morning? Hannah came out of the bathroom clutching a half-empty glass of water. It was still dark outside the window, but that told her nothing about the time of day. It was February in Minnesota and daylight didn’t come until after seven in the morning. It could be six-thirty and that meant she was late to work. Or it could be ten or eleven-thirty at night.

  There was only one way to find out what time it was and Hannah checked her alarm clock. And that was when she discovered that it was thirty minutes past the time she usually got out of bed. That meant she’d slept through the whole night without waking once. Perhaps Mi
ke had been right when he’d recommended delicious food, good wine, and sleep. Sleep was a great cure for anxiety . . . unless you woke up with a nightmare. Now that she’d assuaged her thirst, she felt much better. She also felt safe because Mike was sleeping on the couch in her living room. She’d slept so deeply, she hadn’t even roused when her alarm had begun its irritating electronic beeping. Or had her alarm beeped at all? She might have been so tired, she’d forgotten to set it last night. Either that, or Michelle had come into her bedroom and turned it off to let her sleep longer.

  There was a delicious scent in the air and Hannah began to smile. Michelle was up and she was baking. It took Hannah a moment to recognize the scent, and then she laughed.

  “Apricot!” she said, leaning down to pet Moishe. “Michelle’s baking something with apricots.” And the moment she identified the scent, she remembered the strange dream she’d had. She must have smelled the scent in her sleep and spun the story of her dream.

  “Let’s get up, Moishe,” she said, interrupting his morning stretch. “I’ll take a quick shower and we’ll go find out what Michelle has made for our breakfast.”

  * * *

  “Apricot Coffee Cake,” Michelle responded to Hannah’s unspoken question. “I knew that baking something good would wake you up.”

  “It’s smells wonderful, Michelle,” Hannah said, heading straight for the kitchen coffeepot to get her first cup of eyeopening java. “How long have you been awake?”

  “A couple of hours. I tested recipes and my Apricot Coffee Cake is just one of them. I’ve already packed up the others and we’ll try them when we get to The Cookie Jar.”