Red Velvet Cupcake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “I know, but this must have been worse. I’m sure you wished that you could get rid of Doctor Bev once and for all. As a matter of fact, I heard you say it right before the last time she left Lake Eden. You probably wished her dead on countless occasions. And then you’re the one to find her.”

  Hannah thought about that for a moment. She didn’t feel at all guilty. Perhaps her mother was projecting. “I don’t think I ever wished that Doctor Bev was dead. I just wished that she would be gone for good.”

  “You’re a better woman than I am,” Delores said with a sigh. “Have another chocolate, dear. You still look a little pale.”

  Hannah reached for another piece of candy and realized that there were only three left. She looked up at her mother in total surprise. “Did I eat all those?”

  “No. I helped.”

  “I’ll buy you another box the next time I go out to the mall,” Hannah promised.

  “There’s no need. Doc has several right here in the bottom drawer of his desk. He says it makes me more . . .” She paused and gave a little shrug. “I think he used the word compliant.”

  “Oh.” Hannah said the most noncommittal thing she could think of. And then she thought, That’s the same word I used when Norman brought me the split of Dom Perignon. Norman said that there wasn’t enough champagne in the world to make me compliant. But are there enough boxes of Fanny Farmer to make my mother compliant?

  “Are you ready to visit Barbara now?” Delores asked. “I’ll go with you.”

  “I’m ready,” Hannah replied, clamping the cover back on the box so that she wouldn’t have to see the evidence of her transgression. And then she stood up and walked out of Doc Knight’s office with her mother, making a valiant effort not to think about champagne, chocolate, and compliancy.

  Barbara smiled when they entered the room. She was sitting up in a chair by the bed and she looked much better. She was still hooked to monitoring devices and an IV that beeped at irregular intervals, but at least she was out of bed.

  “Is that your . . . daughter?” she asked.

  “It’s me, Barbara. I’m Hannah. And you’re right.” She gestured toward Delores. “I’m Delores’s daughter.”

  “Hello, Hannah. I didn’t know you were a nurse.”

  “Hannah’s not a nurse,” Delores said. “But I can see why you thought she was. Hannah got her clothes wet and so she changed into dry clothes from the hospital before we came to see you.”

  “I see. Green is a good color for you, Hannah.”

  “Thanks,” Hannah said and then she exchanged looks with Delores. Barbara didn’t seem as confused today and that was good. Perhaps it was time to ask why she’d been summoned. “Mother said you wanted to see me, Barbara.”

  “Yes. I was trying to remember the name of your cat and I couldn’t remember. I have trouble with names.”

  “My cat’s name is Moishe.”

  “Yes. Of course it is. I don’t know why I couldn’t remember. I guess my brain is still swollen. Can your Moishe be a therapy cat?”

  “Therapy cat?” Hannah repeated it in the form of a question. She really didn’t understand what Barbara was asking. “Do they have therapy cats?”

  “If they don’t, they should,” Barbara replied. “They have therapy dogs. One was here this morning. I don’t remember his name. It was nice to see him, but seeing a cat would be better. I miss my cat. Is somebody taking care of him? I tried, but I can’t remember the last time I fed him. When I left for school on Tuesday, we were going to have a spelling test and I might have forgotten to give him his food.”

  “Don’t worry, Barbara,” Delores jumped in quickly, before Barbara could get upset. “Hannah and I will take care of it.”

  “Thank you . . . Delores,” Barbara said, and both Hannah and her mother realized that it had been an effort for her to remember Delores’s name. A moment passed, and then another before Hannah broke the silence.

  “Is there anything I can do for you, Barbara?” she asked, still wondering why Barbara had wanted to see her when Delores or Doc Knight could have told her Moishe’s name.

  “Yes. Bring him to see me.”

  “Your cat?” Delores asked her.

  “Of course not. He died years ago. My mother and I had a funeral for him and he’s buried under the rhubarb bushes by the faucet in the back yard. I cried. He was a wonderful cat.”

  “It’s always hard when a beloved pet dies,” Delores sympathized.

  Hannah gave a sigh of relief. Barbara was back on track again. She’d realized that her childhood cat had died years ago without being reminded that it had happened. Perhaps it was only when it came to her dead father and nonexistent brother that her mind played tricks on her.

  “Will you, Hannah? If Doc says it’s all right?”

  “You remembered Doc’s name!” Delores exclaimed, giving Barbara a warm smile. “That’s just wonderful!”

  Barbara looked thoroughly mystified for a moment and then she shook her head. “It’s not that wonderful, De . . . Del . . . Delores. I don’t remember Doc’s name.”

  “But you called him Doc!”

  “Yes. I did. He’s a doctor so I called him Doc.”

  “Oh.” Hannah knew Delores was disappointed, but it didn’t show on her face. “You’re right, Barbara. It’s true that many people call doctors Doc. But you remembered my name and I could tell it was an effort.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” Barbara looked pleased, and then she turned to Hannah. “I think I can remember your name now. When I see you, I remember that you make cookies with bananas and your name sounds like a banana. The only thing that sounds like a banana is Hannah so your name is Hannah. My nurse taught me how to rhyme with names.”

  “It sounds like you have a wonderful nurse,” Hannah said.

  “Oh, I do. I just wish I could remember her name. I know it sounds like money, and I called her Honey, but that’s not it. It’s some other kind of money, I think. But what could it be? Nickel?” Barbara started to laugh. “I’m almost sure her name isn’t Pickle!”

  Hannah couldn’t help it. She laughed. And the moment she did, so did Delores. And then they all had a good laugh together.

  “You’ll remember her name the next time you see her,” Hannah said, almost sure that was true. This was a good visit with Barbara. She really was improving.

  “So will you do it, Hannah?” Barbara asked.

  Hannah was about to ask what Barbara wanted her to do when the pieces flew into place. “You want me to bring Moishe to the hospital to visit you?”

  “Yes. I don’t see why I can’t have a cat visitor. People around here get dog visitors. There was a little one here last night visiting the man next door. They were training him to be a therapy dog.”

  Hannah made an instant decision. “If Doc Knight agrees, I’ll bring Moishe here tomorrow,” she promised.

  “Oh, good. He’s a nice big cat and I need a big cat.”

  “Why is that?” Delores asked her.

  “For the monster that comes in my room at night. He looks a little like a big white rat. And I think a really big cat like Moishe could chase that monster away.”

  MOM’S BRAN MUFFINS

  DO NOT preheat oven yet—this batter bakes better when it’s chilled.

  1 cup water

  1 cup raisins (I used golden raisins)

  2 cups bran flakes (you’ll use 4 cups in all)

  1 cup brown sugar (pack it down when you

  measure it)

  ½ cup (1 stick, 8 ounces, ¼ pound) salted butter,

  softened

  3 large eggs

  2 teaspoons baking soda

  ½ teaspoon salt

  1 teaspoon cinnamon

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

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

  you measure it)

  2 cups buttermilk (I’ve used whipping cream when I

  didn’t have buttermilk on hand and it worked

  just fine.)


  2 cups quick cooking oatmeal (I used Quaker Quick

  1-Minute)

  2 cups bran flakes (this completes the 4 cup total)

  Measure out the cup of water and bring it to a boil. You can do this in the microwave (1 minute on HIGH in a microwave-safe container is hot enough for this recipe), or on the stovetop in a saucepan.

  While you’re waiting for the water to boil, measure out a cup of raisins and put them in the bottom of a medium-size mixing bowl.

  Measure 2 cups of bran flakes and put them on top of the raisins.

  When the water has heated, pour it over the bran flakes and raisins in the bowl and stir it around a bit. Try to keep those raisins in the bottom where they’ll be covered by the hot water. They need to plump up a bit.

  Set the mixture aside on the counter to cool while you mix up the muffin batter.

  Hannah’s 1st Note: This is so much easier with an electric mixer.

  Measure out the cup of brown sugar, packing it down in the cup when you measure it. Place the brown sugar in the bottom of a larger mixing bowl. (This will be your work bowl.)

  Add the softened butter. (The butter should be at room temperature unless, of course, you’re working in a drafty kitchen in the middle of a cold Minnesota winter. In that case, you’ll have to soften it a bit more!)

  Mix the brown sugar and butter together thoroughly.

  Add the eggs, one by one, beating after each addition.

  Mix in the baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and vanilla extract.

  Feel the sides of the bowl you set aside with the bran flakes and raisin mixture. If it’s not so hot it’ll cook the eggs, add it to your work bowl now. Mix it in thoroughly.

  Measure out the flour, packing it down in the cup when you measure it.

  Get out the 2 cups of buttermilk (or whipping cream if you used that).

  Add about a third of the flour to your bowl and mix it in.

  Add about a third of the buttermilk to your bowl and mix that in.

  Add half of the flour you have left and mix it in.

  Now add about half of the buttermilk you have left and mix that in.

  Add the rest of the flour. Mix well.

  Add the rest of the buttermilk. Mix well.

  Hannah’s 2nd Note: You may have to mix in the final 2 ingredients by hand, especially if your bowl is getting too full for your mixer.

  Measure the 2 cups of quick-cooking oatmeal and mix that in.

  Measure the final 2 cups of bran flakes and mix them in.

  Give the bowl a final stir and cover it with plastic wrap. Refrigerate your batter for at least 2 hours before you bake Mom’s Bran Muffins. (Overnight is fine, too. It’s even preferable. Everyone likes a warm muffin for breakfast.)

  When you want to bake, preheat the oven to 375 F. degrees, rack in the middle position.

  While your oven is heating to the proper temperature, prepare your muffin pans.

  You can either spray your muffin cups with Pam (or another nonstick cooking spray) or line them with cupcake papers. Both methods work just fine.

  These muffins don’t rise very much so fill your muffin cups ¾ (three-quarters) full.

  Hannah’s 3rd Note: Lisa and I use a 2-Tablespoon scooper to fill our muffin cups down at The Cookie Jar. It’s neater than trying to spoon muffin batter into the cups.

  Bake your muffins at 375 degrees F. for 20 minutes.

  Hannah’s 4th Note: You can bake these muffins one pan at a time if you like. As long as you keep the muffin batter tightly covered in the refrigerator, it will be fine for up to 6 weeks (that’s right, SIX whole weeks!)

  Cool your muffins in the muffin pan for at least 20 minutes. Just set the whole pan on a wire rack or on a cold stove burner. At the end of that time, you can take them out of the muffin cups and let them cool completely on a wire rack. They’re delicious warm, or cold.

  Yield: 3 dozen delectable muffins.

  Hannah’s 5th Note: If you’d rather make jumbo muffins, bake those for 30 minutes at 375 degrees F.

  A Word of Caution: Everyone says that bran muffins are good for digestive health. This appears to be true because if you eat too many of these for breakfast, you’ll be spending a lot of time in the little room with the porcelain fixtures!

  Chapter Fifteen

  When Hannah reached the landing after ascending the covered staircase that led up to her condo, she was exhausted. It had been a terrible afternoon, but thankfully it was over. All she had to do now was make a sandwich for her dinner, and think of something to prepare for Mike when he came over to interview her at nine this evening.

  Hannah stood on the bridge that ran between her condo and the condo across the way and wished that she hadn’t agreed when Mike had said he’d come by at nine to take her statement. All she really wanted to do was relax and enjoy the slight breeze that blew across the manicured grounds below without commitments for the remainder of the night. The sun had dropped behind the row of tall pines that hid her condo complex from the road, the temperature had lowered a good ten degrees, and the mosquitoes hadn’t found her yet.

  As she stood there breathing deeply and feeling calmer, she watched the clouds make their majestic progress across the azure of the sky. There was something so comforting about dealing with nature instead of with people, even people she loved. You could watch nature change from one moment to the next and know that you didn’t have to attempt to influence it in any way.

  There was a high-pitched whine that buzzed past her ear and Hannah knew her nature respite was over. One mosquito had found her and that was enough. Within thirty seconds the first mosquito would ring the dinner bell and bring hundreds of friends and relatives to the buffet table.

  Hannah wasted no time thrusting her key in the lock and opening the door. She stepped back, braced herself, and caught the feline who hurtled himself into her arms. “Hi, Moishe. Did you miss me?”

  The answer was a purr so loud that she knew he’d been waiting for her at the door. She stepped in, kicked the door shut behind her, dropped her purse in the chair by the door, and carried Moishe to his favorite perch on the back of the living room couch. This wasn’t easy. The last time she’d taken him to see his vet, Moishe had tipped the scales at twenty-two pounds. Between dragging Doctor Bev out of Miller’s pond, refilling the flour and sugar bins down at The Cookie Jar this morning, and carrying Moishe across the living room, Hannah figured she’d accomplished enough weight-lifting for the week, or perhaps even for the month.

  As soon as she’d checked Moishe’s water bowl and poured herself something cold to drink, Hannah went back into the living room to see if there’d been any calls. The red light was blinking on her answering machine, and she pressed the button to play her messages.

  “Hannah. It’s Norman. They just told me.”

  There was a pause that was just long enough for Hannah to wonder why Norman sounded upset and then to realize that he was referring to Doctor Bev’s death.

  “I’ve been so worried. How are you?”

  Again, it took Hannah a moment to figure out that he was talking about how she’d discovered Doctor Bev’s body.

  “It must have been horrible for you,” his voice went on.

  “Mike told me you gave her mouth-to-mouth for twenty minutes before anyone arrived.”

  Hannah thought about that. It hadn’t been awful except in retrospect. When she’d been engaged in the act of attempting to resuscitate Doctor Bev, she hadn’t thought about anything except forcing air into her lungs to get her to breathe again.

  “You deserve a medal,” Norman’s voice continued. “I talked to Andrea a couple of minutes ago and she said Doctor Bev was really nasty to you on the Petersons’ porch. I’m sorry, Hannah. It’s my fault you had to go through all that.”

  Guilt time, her mind announced. Norman’s been worrying about you for hours and you haven’t given him a thought.

  “Anyway, please give me a call when you get home. I want to hear your voice and k
now that you’re all right. And if there’s anything I can do for you, please, please let me know. I love you, Hannah.”

  He loves you more than you love him, her mind accused her. That’s crystal clear. He called you the moment he heard about Doctor Bev. You should have called him from the hospital, but you didn’t even think about it.

  “I was a little too busy at the time,” Hannah argued out loud. “And you’re right. I didn’t think about it. I didn’t think about anything at the time. I was in shock.”

  A likely excuse!

  “It’s no excuse!” Hannah shouted. “It’s the truth!”

  “Rrrrrow!”

  Hannah looked up to see Moishe regarding her curiously. Or perhaps it was an anxious expression. It was difficult to tell with a cat.

  “I’m okay,” she told him, and he lowered his head to rest on his paws again. In no time at all his eyes had closed to slits and he was purring softly.

  It took a total of five minutes to change her clothes, toss the ones she’d worn when she jumped into Miller’s Pond into the washer, and carry her lemonade back out to the living room again. She sat down on the couch, listened to make sure the load in her washer was balanced and not thumping unevenly, and reached for the phone. Her fingertips had just touched the receiver when it rang.