by Joanne Fluke
“I gave Earl coffee and since he’d been out there in the cold since morning, I convinced him to have a tot of my homemade rhubarb wine with it. I make my own, you know.”
“I didn’t know.”
“There’s no reason you should. I don’t advertise it, or I’d have a lot more visitors at the parsonage. Rhubarb wine used to be my husband’s favorite treat. Every time he ate ice cream, he wanted my rhubarb wine poured over the top as syrup.”
Hannah started to grin. “You’re a woman of many talents, Grandma Knudson.”
“That’s exactly what he used to say! And Earl said it yesterday afternoon, right after his third glass. When he left me, he told me that he was going to Granny’s Attic to pick up Carrie because he’d given her a ride to town on his snowplow. And since Carrie had always wanted to drive his snowplow, he thought he might let her drive him home.”
“So Carrie was with Earl after he left you?”
Grandma Knudson nodded. “Lisa said they came in for coffee before they left for home and Earl ordered two coffees to go. That was past three, so Earl couldn’t have killed Ross.”
“You’re right,” Hannah admitted, reaching for her murder book and flipping to Earl’s page. She crossed out that page with a big x-mark and flipped to the next page.
“How about Bud Hauge?” she asked. “You told me you heard him say something about teaching Ross a lesson after my talk at church on Sunday.”
“He did, but Bud is all bark and no bite. Besides, he’s hobbling around on crutches. There’s no way he could have made it up your outside staircase.”
“What happened to Bud?”
“I’m not sure. All I heard was that it had something to do with a revival of the limbo at the Golden Eagle and Bud came in third.”
Two down, one to go, Hannah said to herself. She almost hated to ask and nullify her whole suspect list, but she had to know.
“How about Hal McDermott? You told me that he was pretty hot under the collar about Ross at the social hour after Sunday’s church services. Do you think it’s possible that he’s involved?”
“Hal’s got a temper on him, but I don’t think he has anything to do with it. You’d better check with Rose. I think Hal’s weekly poker game was yesterday afternoon and he wouldn’t miss one of those. Rose told me that Hal lost last week to Al Percy and he vowed to win it all back this week.”
Hannah was surprised. “I knew they played poker, but I thought it was just for chips or something like that. I never realized that real money was at stake.”
“Well, it is, but it’s only penny ante. Rose said Hal lost four dollars and seventy cents, but money’s not the issue.”
“Then what’s the issue?” Hannah asked her.
“It’s ego. Hal wants to hang on to his title as the best poker player in Lake Eden. Hal wouldn’t miss that poker game, Hannah. And I’d bet real money on that, not just pennies!”
“I understand,” Hannah said. “It’s not the money at stake in Hal’s poker games, it’s the honor.”
“Honor’s not the only thing. The weekly winner gets a free dessert every day from Rose. And that reminds me . . .” Grandma Knudson stopped talking and reached down to pull a box out of the tapestry tote bag she always carried. “These are for you,” she said, handing the box to Hannah. “It’s a little like carrying coals to Newcastle, but I thought you’d like them.”
Hannah lifted the lid on the box and began to laugh. “Cookies!” she exclaimed.
“Yes. It was my mother’s recipe and I just found it in one of her recipe boxes. They’re called Forgotten Cookies.”
“That’s a great name,” Hannah commented. “Is the name because you forgot that your mother made them?”
“Not exactly. Have one now and tell me if you like them. And if you do, I wrote out the recipe and it’s in that little envelope on top.”
Hannah took a cookie and bit into it. It was made of meringue and it melted in her mouth. “Wonderful!” she said, popping the rest of the cookie into her mouth.
“Read the recipe,” Grandma Knudson suggested. “I don’t know if it’ll work in your industrial oven, but it can’t hurt to try it. And if you can’t make them here, you can make them at home.”
Hannah read through the recipe and then she laughed. “I think I understand why they’re called Forgotten Cookies now.”
“That’s right. The name’s appropriate because if you use your oven for supper, you just mix up these cookies, put them on a sheet, and stick them in the oven. Then you turn off the oven, forget about them, and they’ll be baked and ready to eat in the morning.”
FORGOTTEN COOKIES
Preheat oven to 400 F., rack in the middle position.
(Make these cookies right before bedtime and they’ll be ready to eat in the morning. They must be in the oven at least 4 hours and overnight is fine, too.)
Hannah’s 1st Note: This recipe is from Aunt Nancy’s friend, Judy Baer.
2 egg whites (save the yolks in a covered container in the refrigerator and add them to scrambled eggs in the morning)
¾ cup white (granulated) sugar
pinch of salt (a pinch is the amount of salt you can pick up from a salt cellar and hold between your thumb and your forefinger)
6-ounce (by weight) package (about 1 cup) mini chocolate chips
1 cup finely chopped pecans
Prepare your cookie sheet by lining it with parchment paper.
Place the egg whites in the bowl of an electric mixer and beat them until they are foamy.
Continue to beat while adding the white sugar by Tablespoons, sprinkling in the sugar over the very foamy egg whites.
Add the pinch of salt and beat until the egg whites are very stiff. (You are making a meringue.)
Once the egg whites are stiff enough to hold a peak when you shut off the mixer and test them, shut off the mixer and take out the bowl.
Hannah’s 2nd Note: Test for stiff peaks by shutting off the mixer, dipping the rounded back of a spoon into the beaten egg whites and pulling it up. If the peak that forms is stiff, you are done beating.
Sprinkle in the chocolate chips and gently fold them in with a rubber spatula, being careful not to lose any air.
Hannah’s 3rd Note: “Folding” is done by inserting the blade of the rubber spatula into the center of the bowl, turning it to the flat side and “shoveling” the stiff egg whites up to cover part of the chips. Turn the bowl and repeat this action until you have pulled up all the egg whites from the bottom and have covered all of the chips.
Add the finely chopped pecans to the top of the bowl and fold them in by the same method you used with the chocolate chips.
Give the mixing bowl one more very gentle stir with the spatula.
Place your prepared cookie sheet next to your cookie bowl and transfer the dough by heaping teaspoons to the parchment paper.
Hannah’s 4th Note: One standard-size cookie sheet will hold all the Forgotten Cookies if you place them about an inch apart.
If your oven has reached the proper temperature, quickly open the door, slip in the cookies, and close it again.
TURN OFF THE OVEN and DO NOT OPEN the oven door again until you get up in the morning.
Yield: 1 to 2 dozen melt-in-your-mouth cookies, depending on cookie size.
Chapter Twenty-four
Hannah was just cutting her newest creation, Butterscotch Chocolate Bar Cookies, and placing them on a platter when Lisa came through the swinging door from the coffee shop. “Lynne Larchmont’s on the phone for you, Hannah.”
“Thanks, Lisa. Take a pan of these out to the coffee shop and ask our customers to taste-test them for us.”
“They smell great!” Lisa said, coming over to grab a pan of bar cookies from the bakers rack. “What are they called?”
“Butterscotch Chocolate Bar Cookies.”
“I don’t think you need to worry about anyone not liking them,” Lisa said with a laugh. “Our customers adore bar cookies, the stickier and gooier, the better.
”
“Then they’re going to love these. That butterscotch is sticky.”
Hannah licked her fingers and went to the sink to wash her hands before she reached for the phone. “Hi, Lynne,” she greeted her friend. “What’s new?”
“A lot, but I’ll wait to tell you when I see you. I called to ask you if you could have dinner with Tom and me tomorrow night.”
“Tom’s back?”
“Not yet, but he called me this morning to say that he’ll be back tonight or early tomorrow morning.”
Hannah thought about that for a moment. She really didn’t want to socialize right now. “I’m not sure I’d be very good company right now, Lynne.”
“I understand, but it might do you some good to get out. I’m going to stay out here for another week, Hannah.”
“I know. You’re going to be interviewed at the film festival, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but KCOW is going to postpone the festival until the first week in June.”
Hannah was surprised, but it did make sense. “Because of what happened to Ross?” she managed to say.
“I’m sure that’s part of it. They didn’t come right out and say that, but it’s got to be a factor, especially since Crisis in Cherrywood won the award for the most popular Minnesota film, and Ross won’t be here to be interviewed, or to accept his award.”
“That is a problem,” Hannah admitted. “Do you think they’ll ask Dean Lawrence to accept the award for Ross?” Hannah named the director of the film.
“That would be a logical choice, but Dean moved to England and he’s working full-time there. I doubt that he’d fly back to the States for a small, regional film festival.”
“How about Dom?” Hannah named the assistant director.
“I don’t know. It all depends on whether or not they can find him and if he’s free to come. Everyone on the cast and crew split up after we wrapped the film. I’ve stayed in touch with some of the actors, but everyone on the crew has scattered all over the place.”
“Then it’ll be a real problem?”
“Not necessarily. Since the award show will be covered on television, almost everyone in the cast will come. It’s like a paid advertisement for how good they are at their jobs.”
“I can understand that. How about you?” Hannah asked her. “You’re coming to the film festival, aren’t you, Lynne?”
“Yes. It’s the first time I’ve been invited to an award show and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Not only that, I love Lake Eden. I’ll jump at any excuse I get to come back here.”
“Did you tell the PR person at KCOW that you’ll come back?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Then maybe they’ll ask you to accept the award for Ross.”
Lynne was silent for a moment and when she answered, she sounded hopeful. “It’s possible they’ll ask me. People accept awards for other people all the time.”
“I know.” Hannah thought back to the last award show she’d watched and how Mayor Bascomb had accepted his sister’s STAG statuette.
“If they didn’t mention Ross when they called you, what reason did they give you for postponing the festival?”
“They blamed it on weather. They told me that since more severe winter storms were predicted and it could be difficult for people to travel to Lake Eden.”
“That’s possible. KCOW’s counting on good ratings and they won’t get them if most of the big names bow out. And Mayor Bascomb was counting on a lot of people coming into Lake Eden and spending money.” Hannah stopped talking for a moment and began to frown. “I wonder if the mayor knows that they decided to postpone the festival.”
“I’m not sure. They said they called me first because I won the leading actress award and they knew I’d arrived two weeks early. Do you want to call the mayor and let him know, Hannah? I called you right after I got the call from the PR guy at KCOW.”
Hannah gave a short laugh. “There’s no way I’m going to break the news to the mayor!”
“Then do you think I should call him?”
“Absolutely not! There’s no way you should give the mayor bad news. Mayor Bascomb’s the type of person who’d shoot the messenger!”
“Thanks for the warning, Hannah. I know exactly what you mean and I won’t even consider calling him.”
After she’d accepted the dinner invitation with Lynne and Tom, Hannah said her goodbyes and hung up. Then she went to the freezer to check the status of the peanut butter balls she’d formed. She’d decided to make candy for Valentine’s Day. They’d never done that before, but there was always a first time.
Hannah slipped on a pair of food service gloves and picked up one of the candy balls to see if they were hard enough to dip in chocolate. They weren’t so she returned them to the freezer and turned to look at the clock. Another hour should be enough, especially if she kept the temperature of the melted chocolate that she’d use for dipping as low as possible.
Hannah was just gathering the ingredients for more cookies when there was a knock on the back kitchen door. It was a distinctive knock and even though she didn’t really have to look through the peephole to know who was there, Hannah looked before she opened the door. “Hi, Norman,” she said, ushering him in. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”
“I’m sorry it took so long. I thought I’d be back earlier, but Cliff had a problem downloading the photos from Clara’s phone.”
“You mean he couldn’t do it?”
“No, he got them, but it took longer than he thought it would. I got everything, Hannah. And I printed out several photos I’d like you to see.”
“I’ll get coffee for us and then you can show me,” Hannah said, setting a platter of bar cookies on the surface of the work station. “Will you try my newest bar cookie?”
“You betcha!” Norman reached out for one, took a big bite, and gave her a thumbs-up signal. Then he swallowed and smiled. “They’re great, Hannah! Is that butterscotch with the chocolate?”
“Yes, Mother thought that combination would be good.”
“She was right,” Norman said as he reached for another bar cookie.
Hannah carried two mugs of coffee to the work station and took a stool across from Norman. “Do you have Clara’s phone with you?”
“I have it, but after Cliff gave me her new phone, I went home and put all her photos on my computer. And then I printed out the ones that I thought were important.”
Hannah watched as Norman opened the folder he’d carried in with him. “I enhanced them a bit because they were taken at night in moonlight. The first is one of the pine tree Clara used as the constant in her shadow photos.”
“I’ve always thought that pine was the most beautiful one,” Hannah said. And then her slight smile faltered a bit as she remembered stopping beneath that very tree on one of the walks she’d taken with Ross and how he’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
“Here’s the second photo Clara took.” Norman handed it to Hannah. “I worked on the color, but since it’s taken after dark and the moon was out, it’s difficult to judge colors.”
Hannah glanced down at the photo and gasped. “There’s a man standing under the pine!”
“Yes. I think that he saw Clara taking the photo and that’s why he pushed her down and stole her phone.”
“That makes sense if he knew that Clara had taken a picture of him and he didn’t want anyone to know he was there.”
“Yes, and since Clara said she hadn’t even seen the man, she probably didn’t realize that she’d caught his image in her photo. But she would have noticed him when she printed out her photos. And she would have wondered why he was crouching there.”
“That’s true,” Hannah agreed. “What’s around the man’s neck, Norman?”
“I think it’s a pair of binoculars. One of the lenses is catching the moonlight.”
Hannah studied the photo again. “Yes, I think you’re right. I wish we could see his face.”
&
nbsp; “So do I, but I’ve enhanced the image to the maximum. Any more and it’ll break down. I did manage to catch the color of his cap, though. It could be blue, but moonlight adds blue to most colors. I used a meter to measure the strength of the blue hue in the shadow and when I subtracted that from the man’s hat, it looked more green than blue.”
“So it’s a Buffalo Plaid hat with squares of black and green?”
“Yes, if that’s what you call that big checkerboard design. Where did they get a name like Buffalo Plaid anyway? I’ve never seen a buffalo wearing plaid.”
Hannah laughed. “And I doubt you will unless one of the park employees in Little Falls decides to put a Buffalo Plaid blanket on one of their bison.”
“If they did, it would be Bison Plaid,” Norman said. “They’re not the same animal, you know.”
“I do know, but in North America the names are used interchangeably. It’s not entirely correct, but it’s so common, it’s acceptable. If we lived in South America or Africa, we’d have Cape Buffalo or Water Buffalo and they’re entirely different. Our North American buffalo or bison roamed the plains and our bison is a bovid.”
“Like cows?”
“Yes. I also know how they got the name Buffalo Plaid if you’re interested.”
“I am. Tell me.”
“A company called Woolrich Woolen Mills made shirts in the eighteen-fifties with a large checkerboard design. Legend has it that their designer owned a herd of buffalo and that’s why they called the design Buffalo Plaid.”
Norman picked up the phone he’d put down on the work station. “I wonder if I should run out to your complex and give this phone to Clara now.”