Red Velvet Cupcake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  Mike made a heroic effort and just barely managed to grab his coffee mug and dessert dish. His left foot almost got into a head-on crash with Cuddles, but she missed it, quite literally, by a whisker.

  “Whew! That was close!” Mike glanced at the two cats, who were now splayed out on the rug, breathing hard. “I bow to your expertise,” he said to Hannah and Norman. “Is that it for this run?”

  Norman snapped his fingers and Cuddles looked at him. “That’s it,” he said. “Her eyes are normal again. Kitty Crazies are over for now.”

  Hannah glanced at their dessert bowls. Despite the two interruptions, both men had managed to finish their desserts. She dished up another helping for each of them and topped it with scoops from the carton of vanilla ice cream she’d rescued from the table.

  For several minutes there was only the sound of spoons clinking against glass dessert bowls and an occasional sigh of contentment. When they were finished and the men had helped Hannah clear the table, they carried a fresh pot of coffee into the living room and Hannah declared that dinner was over.

  “Okay,” Mike said, turning to Norman. “I know you went to consult with Doc about Barbara’s teeth. Tell me what you learned.”

  To Hannah’s eyes, Norman looked sad and she hoped it wasn’t bad news. “Five broken teeth, one sheared off at the gum line. Doc and I had to do surgery to extract it.”

  “Will she be all right?” Hannah was more concerned about Barbara than she was about the teeth.

  “She’ll recover. The good part is that I took X-rays of Barbara’s teeth less than a month ago and that made it simple to extract them. The other good news is that I’ll be able to fill in the gaps with bridges just as soon as her gums heal.”

  Mike looked confused. “I’m glad for Barbara, but why did you need to tell me this?”

  “Because Barbara’s dental injuries weren’t entirely consistent with her fall. When we finished treating Barbara, Doc Knight and I went back to the Albion to examine the area where she landed.”

  “And you found . . . ?” Hannah held her breath, waiting for Norman’s answer.

  “We found nothing on the ground where she landed to account for the full extent of her dental injuries. The ground was soft and there was only one rock large enough to break a tooth.”

  Hannah frowned. “If Barbara didn’t break her teeth when she landed, how did they get broken?”

  “I know where you’re going with this,” Mike said. “You and Doc think that Barbara suffered a blow to the face right there on the roof.”

  “More than one blow, if we’re right. Neither one of us believes that the dental trauma could have been accomplished by one blow.”

  “How many blows?” Hannah asked, and just asking made her feel slightly sick. The thought of someone hitting Barbara in the face was horrible.

  “We believe that there were at least three blows. That’s consistent with her facial damage and bruising, and also consistent with her dental trauma.”

  “You mean . . .” Hannah stopped and took a deep breath. “You mean someone attacked Barbara while she was on the roof?”

  “That’s exactly what we think. Everything stacks up that way. It was a big party and people were all over the hotel. It would have been relatively easy for someone to follow Barbara up to the rooftop garden without being noticed.”

  “That’s true,” Mike said. “When we interviewed the guests, only one person remembers seeing Barbara and that was in one of the two-bedroom condos.”

  “There’s only one elevator that goes up to the penthouse,” Hannah added. “Did anyone in the lobby see her getting into that?”

  Mike shook his head, and then he turned to Norman. “Okay. I’m buying that theory except for one thing. We don’t think Barbara fell. We found some scuff marks at the point where she left the roof. But the trajectory of a fall puts her at a different spot than the one where she landed.”

  “Then the person who attacked her also pushed her off the roof?” Hannah asked.

  “No. That doesn’t add up either. The crime scene boys think Barbara jumped off the roof all by herself and now we know the reason why.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Hannah. Before you say a word, there’s something I have to say to you.”

  Hannah stood in the open doorway at The Cookie Jar and stared at her partner in surprise. She’d never heard Lisa sound so serious before. There were frown lines on her normally smooth brow, high spots of color dotted her cheeks, and her eyes were blazing with determination. Her glossy brown hair was tousled, as if she’d run her fingers through it in frustration, and her hands were clasped so tightly together that her knuckles were white with the pressure. It was clear that something was horribly wrong, and Hannah drew in her breath sharply as her mind settled on the obvious conclusion. There was only one thing that could catapult her normally calm and cheerful partner into this highly agitated state. “You’re not quitting, are you?”

  “Quitting?” Lisa looked shocked. “No!”

  “What is it then?”

  “I absolutely positively will not tell the story of Barbara’s fall. I refuse, Hannah! I know it brings in business when I tell the stories of murders, but this isn’t murder. Barbara’s fall was a horrible, awful accident!”

  “Not exactly,” Hannah said, and then she wished she hadn’t. Lisa’s face had gone dangerously pale, and as Hannah watched, she reached out to grab the edge of the counter.

  “Don’t tell me that Barbara is . . . is . . .”

  “No, Barbara’s fine. Or at least Barbara’s as fine as she can be with her injuries. I saw her yesterday and Doc Knight is almost certain she’ll recover.”

  “Oh, thank goodness! I’ve been so worried about her I couldn’t sleep at all last night. And Herb was gone, helping Mike and Bill at the hotel. Sammy was so scared, he slept with me. And he’d rather sleep in that great bed your mother bought for him.”

  “Or maybe it was the other way around,” Hannah said, taking Lisa’s arm and leading her to a stool at the stainless steel work island. “Sit down before you fall down, Lisa.”

  Lisa sat. And then she looked up at Hannah. “What did you mean, that maybe it was the other way around?”

  “I meant, maybe Sammy slept with you because you were the one who was scared.”

  “Oh.” Lisa thought about that for a moment. “Maybe. Fox terriers are awfully bright. Dr. Hagaman told me that. But I meant what I said about not telling Barbara’s story.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to tell any stories about Barbara. That would be a horrid thing to do.”

  The kitchen coffee pot was on and Hannah went to pour a bracing cup for both of them. When she came back, Lisa looked calmer, but the frown lines were back. “What else is wrong?” Hannah asked.

  “I just remembered something. I said Barbara’s fall was a horrible, awful accident. And you said, not exactly. Did you mean it wasn’t horrible and awful? Or did you mean it wasn’t an accident?”

  “I meant it wasn’t an accident. And you can’t tell the story, okay?”

  “I don’t want to tell the story. I said that already. What’s going on, Hannah?”

  “Barbara’s confused. She seems to think that her brother tried to kill her.”

  “Her brother?”

  “Yes. And Barbara doesn’t have a brother. She also asked about her father. And when we told her that he was dead, she was practically inconsolable that she couldn’t see him again.” Hannah sat down and took a sip of her own coffee. Lisa could keep a secret and she was an expert at the invisible waitress trick. Customers didn’t even notice when Lisa came around to refill their coffee cups and they kept right on talking, even if the conversation was personal. It didn’t happen every day, or even every week, but once in a while Lisa would pick up some tidbit of information that helped Hannah solve a murder case.

  “Two things,” Hannah told her. “I’ll start with Clayton Wallace.”

  “The dead bus driver for the band?”
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  “That’s right.” And Hannah proceeded to tell Lisa about the M.P.D.’s conclusion and what it meant to Clayton’s son.

  “Oh, dear!” Lisa said when Hannah was finished. “I’ll keep an ear out, but it’s pretty unlikely I’ll hear anything about someone from Minneapolis, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe, but stranger things have happened. We do get a few customers who commute to Minneapolis for part of the week. And a lot of folks from Lake Eden have relatives there.”

  “Okay. How about that second thing you mentioned? It’s about Barbara, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Hannah got up to refill their coffee cups and then she sat down again. “Where were you when Barbara landed in the rose garden?”

  “I was serving Doctor Bev and Roger their fourth cupcakes.”

  “You served them when everyone else came over to the display to serve themselves?”

  “Yes. Roger came over and asked me to bring the cupcakes to their table. He said they were Doctor Bev’s favorites. And since he was paying us for the catering job, I thought . . .”

  “You had to do what he wanted,” Hannah finished the sentence for her. “The customer is always right.”

  Lisa gave a little laugh. “Even when they’re wrong, they’re right. It’s the first rule of retail sales.”

  “You like that night class you’re taking, don’t you?”

  “I adore it. Dr. Schmidt is wonderful! I just have to be careful not to call her Dr. Love.”

  Hannah laughed. Nancy Schmidt was one of Delores’s closest friends, and Hannah had learned early on that Nancy moonlighted as Dr. Love, the Love Guru on KCOW talk radio. No one at the college knew and the few who did were careful to protect her alter-identity.

  “She’s got such a good sense of humor and the psychology of retail sales is really interesting. I just wish I had her for my stat class.”

  “Nancy teaches statistics?”

  “Yes. It’s offered by two departments, psychology and mathematics. I tried to get into Dr. Schmidt’s section, but her class was full. I’m stuck with Dr. Lyman from the math department and he’s as dry as dust.”

  “Statistics is pretty boring, no matter who teaches it,” Hannah said, remembering her own stat class and how she’d barely managed to stay awake. Of course most of her sleepiness might have been due to the fact that her class had met first thing in the morning and she had been spending most of her nights with Bradford Ramsey.

  “Dr. Schmidt’s class isn’t boring. They meet right next door to Dr. Lyman’s class and we can hear them laughing right through the walls. She’s a great teacher, Hannah.”

  “Mother knows a nurse who’s taking statistics as part of her psychology degree. She has a great recipe for Easy Fruit Pie. I made it last night.”

  “What’s her name? Maybe I know her.”

  “Jenny Hester.”

  “There’s a Jenny in my retail psychology class. Does she have dark brown hair with lighter highlights?”

  Hannah shrugged. “I really don’t know. I haven’t met her.”

  “Do you want me to talk to her on break and ask her if she’s the right Jenny? I’ve got class tonight.”

  “Sure. And if she is, tell her I tried her Easy Fruit Pie last night and it was a huge success.”

  “She’ll like that. People always like to know that somebody else loves their recipes.”

  “Okay. So tell me what happened when you delivered the cupcakes to Roger’s table,” Hannah said, bringing them back to the subject at hand.

  “Nothing. They weren’t there.”

  “Neither one of them?”

  “No. They weren’t out on the dance floor either. I looked around for them. I set the platter with the cupcakes down and I’d just gotten back to the display table when I saw everybody rushing to the windows.”

  Hannah began to draw a time line in her head, but she wanted to check facts with Lisa. “Did you see me before the rush to the windows?”

  “Yes. You and Andrea were sitting at the table with your mother and Doc Knight. I waved, but you didn’t see me.”

  “How about Bill and Mike?”

  “I didn’t see Mike, but Bill was talking to Lonnie in the doorway. I saw Norman, though.”

  “Where was he?” Hannah’s heart beat faster, waiting for Lisa’s answer.

  “Norman was crossing the lobby, coming toward the door to the lounge.”

  Hannah drew a deep breath of relief. She took a moment to glory in the fact that Norman had been entirely truthful to her, and another moment to chide herself for doubting what he’d told her. When she was finished with those conflicting emotions, she asked another question. “Did you hear Barbara scream when she fell?”

  “No. The elevator was too loud. I could hear it every time someone went up to the penthouse. There’s this screech when it stops at the penthouse floor. Herb heard it too, when you and Andrea went up there. He says he thinks something needs to be oiled and he’s going to tell Roger to call Otis.”

  “Otis Elevator?”

  “Yes, they handle maintenance, too. Do you want to taste the new cookies I made? I got the recipe from my cousin and they’re called Coffee and Cream Cookies.”

  “I’d love to. I’ll get more coffee. You get the cookies.”

  Lisa got up to pluck several cookies off the baker’s rack while Hannah refilled their cups. Moments later they were both seated at the work island while Lisa waited for Hannah to take the first bite.

  “Wonderful!” Hannah said, taking a second bite. “Great coffee flavor, but there’s something else, too. Vanilla?” When Lisa nodded, Hannah went on. “The white chocolate chips are a good contrast. And the miniature marshmallow on top is just perfect.”

  “So you think we should serve them?”

  “Absolutely. Make sure you call Doug Greerson at the bank and tell him you’ve got a new coffee cookie. Ever since he got that espresso machine for his office, he’s turned into a real coffee connoisseur.”

  “Do you really think he’ll like them? He’s into Blue Mountain coffee and everything like that.”

  “He’ll like them. And he’ll love being asked to taste them. Better call Grandma Knudson, too. The only time her coffee pot isn’t full is when she’s washing it.”

  Lisa laughed. “Just wait until I tell my cousin.”

  “Which cousin is this? You have so many.”

  “I know. Dad used to say that if we had a dollar for every cousin, we’d be rich. This one is my cousin, Laurie Foster. She’s my dad’s brother’s aunt-in-law’s niece. I think she’s twice, or maybe it’s three times removed.”

  “Stop!” Hannah held up her hand. “I never can keep your family straight. The next time you talk to Cousin Laurie, tell her I think her recipe is great.”

  “I will. She’ll be thrilled we’re going to serve them.” Lisa looked down at the traditional thumbprint cookies with miniature marshmallows in the indentations. “I just hope nobody thinks they’re too much of a cheat.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Laurie told me she was going to use marshmallow cream in the thumbprint, so she could call them Coffee and Cream, but she found out that marshmallow cream is seasonal in Texas.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No. She went to five different stores and they all told her that they only carry marshmallow cream around Christmas.”

  “How about black cow sundaes? Don’t they have them in Texas?”

  “I don’t know, but I guess they don’t make them except during the holiday season.” Lisa paused and looked thoughtful. “I wonder if you can make marshmallow cream from scratch.”

  “I’m sure you can. I know you can make marshmallows from scratch. Great-Grandma Elsa used to do it.”

  “Were they good?”

  “They were fabulous!”

  “Do you have her recipe?”

  “I’m sure I do. I’ve got boxes and boxes of family recipes. Do you want me to try to find it?”

  “When y
ou have time. It’s not a huge priority because Laurie came up with a substitute that looks a little bit like cream. Do you think that’s all right?”

  “I think that’s fine. The white chocolate tastes creamy, too.”

  “Then you don’t think anybody will object to the name?”

  “I’m sure they won’t. The name’s close enough.” Hannah took another sip of her coffee. “Tell me more about the penthouse elevator. When I went up there with Andrea, we didn’t hear any screech.”

  “I don’t think anyone inside can hear it. The screech is down in the lobby and it happens only when the elevator stops at the penthouse. The only reason Herb and I noticed it is that we were sitting right against the wall.”

  “And you said the elevator screeches every time it arrives at the penthouse floor?”

  “Yes. The reason I know is that Barbara came over to get a cupcake right before she went up to the penthouse. She said, I’m taking this up there with me just in case I get stuck in that little elevator. And then she went out and got in the elevator. Herb and I heard the screech when she got up there so we knew she didn’t get stuck.”

  “And you said you heard another screech later, right before everyone went rushing to the windows.”

  “That’s right. Somebody must have called for the elevator and gone up to the penthouse right before Barbara went off the roof. Otherwise the elevator wouldn’t have screeched.”

  COFFEE AND CREAM COOKIES

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

  1 cup white (granulated) sugar

  1 cup brown sugar (pack it down when you

  measure it)

  1 cup salted butter, softened (2 sticks, 8 ounces,

  ½ pound)

  2 large eggs

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  ½ cup strong coffee (room temperature)

  2 teaspoons instant coffee (I used instant espresso)

  1 teaspoon salt

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  3 and ½ cups all-purpose flour (pack it down in the

  cup when you measure it)

  2 cups white chocolate chips (I used Nestle)