Add the second cup of flour. Mix that in at LOW speed.
Add the softened butter, the vanilla extract, and the ¾ cup whole milk. Beat at LOW speed until the flour is well moistened. Then turn the mixer up to MEDIUM HIGH speed.
Beat for 2 minutes. Then shut off the mixer and scrape down the sides of the bowl.
Turn the mixer on LOW and add the eggs, one at a time, beating all the while. Then beat in the ¼ cup whole milk. Once the eggs and the milk are incorporated, turn the mixer up to MEDIUM HIGH.
Beat for 2 minutes. Then shut off the mixer and scrape down the sides of the bowl again.
Remove the bowl from the mixer. You’re going to finish the Tangerine Dream Cake by hand.
Gradually add the ground tangerine, raisin, and pecan mixture to the mixing bowl, folding it in gently as you go. The object is to keep as much air in the cake batter as you can.
Pour the cake batter into the pan you prepared earlier. Smooth out the top with a rubber spatula.
Bake your Tangerine Dream Cake at 350 degrees F. for 40 to 50 minutes, or until a thin wooden skewer or a cake tester that you poke into the center of the cake comes out clean. (I started testing my cake at 40 minutes, but there was still sticky batter clinging to the tester. The last time I baked this cake, it took the full 50 minutes.)
When your cake is done, take it out of the oven and place it on a wire rack or a cold burner on the stovetop.
Tangerine Dream Cake Topping:
cup tangerine juice (from the tangerines you juiced earlier)
½ cup white (granulated) sugar
¼ cup finely chopped pecans
Hannah’s 2nd Note: You must make the topping and put it on your cake while the cake is still piping hot from the oven.
Drizzle the cup of tangerine juice over the top of your hot cake.
Sprinkle the sugar over the top of the tangerine juice on your cake.
Finely chop more pecans. Measure out ¼ cup and sprinkle them on top of the sugar on your cake.
Let your cake cool to room temperature. Then cover it and refrigerate it. This will keep it nice and moist.
You can serve your Tangerine Dream Cake at room temperature or chilled. It freezes well if you wrap it in foil and put it in a freezer bag.
If you’d like to dress it up a bit, cut pieces, put them on pretty dessert plates, and decorate each piece with a dollop of sweetened whipped cream.
Chapter Twenty
“I feel stupid in this outfit,” Hannah said, glancing down at her oldest, tightest pair of jeans and the shocking pink tank top that was at least two sizes too small for her. Michelle had bought it in Las Vegas and it was the epitome of glitz, with sparkling gold lettering proclaiming that the wearer was a SHOWGIRL IN TRAINING.
“You look perfect for the Eight Ball. You’ll see I’m right just as soon as we go in.”
“You looked that up online, too?”
“No, I’ve been there before.”
“With Lonnie?”
“No! Lonnie wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like the Eight Ball. The first time I went there, it was a girls’ night out in high school and we thought it was far enough away from Lake Eden so that no one would recognize us.”
“And it wasn’t?”
Michelle shook her head. “I got busted.”
“Did Mother read you the riot act?”
“I would have preferred that, but she gave me the silent treatment when I came in the door. There she was in her robe and slippers. She held out her hand for the car keys and after I handed them over, she motioned for me to go into my room.”
“And you worried about it for the rest of the night because you didn’t know what else she was going to do?”
“That’s right.” Michelle gave Hannah an assessing look. “How do you know about that?”
“I had one memorable experience with Mother’s silent treatment and that was enough to keep me home for a solid month!”
“What did you do?”
Hannah shrugged. “Not much, but I did lie to her about where I was going. I had a friend named Marilyn. She was a bookworm, just like me, and every once in a while, we’d study together for a big test. Mother approved of Marilyn, but there was a group of three girls that she wanted me to avoid. As it turned out, she was right. All three got into big trouble in their senior year. But this was in our junior year and one of the girls begged me to come over and help them with their term papers in history. It was the night before they were due and I’d handed mine in that morning, so I said I’d help them.”
“That was nice of you.”
“Too nice, as it turned out. What they wanted wasn’t a critical review, or help in wording a section. They wanted me to actually write the term papers for them.”
“So you refused?”
“Yes. I told them I’d help them, but I couldn’t write their papers for them, that our teacher would recognize my style and we’d all get into trouble. They didn’t like that and they left me sitting there at the library.”
“So you went home?”
“Not right away. I’d told Mother that I was going to study with Marilyn so I had to stay there for a couple of hours. Then I went home.”
“How did Mother find out that you weren’t studying with Marilyn?”
“Marilyn called to talk to me an hour after I’d left home.”
“Busted!”
“Oh, yes. Mother didn’t say a word. She just handed me one of those little pink notes she always used to log in phone calls.”
“The ones with the blank line at the top and words under it that said, Called while you were out, and another blank for the time of the call and the telephone number?”
“Yes. She’d written Marilyn on the top line, and that was all. I tried to explain, but she just pointed to my room, so I went. And just like you, I worried all night about how she was going to punish me.”
“What did she do?”
“Absolutely nothing. In the morning, things were the same as they’d been on any other morning. And that was worse than any punishment she could have given me. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never did.”
“She’s a smart mother,” Michelle said. “That’s exactly what she did to me.”
“Perhaps diabolical would be a better description than smart,” Hannah said, and both of them laughed as she pulled into the parking lot for the Eight Ball Bar.
“Park over there, under that tree,” Michelle pointed out a spot in the back of the lot. “We don’t want anyone to see your cookie truck and identify us if things go bad.”
“Bad? How could things go bad?” Hannah asked as she parked in the spot that Michelle had indicated.
“Maybe Seth won’t want to be interviewed and he’ll sic one of the bouncers on us. Then we won’t want him to know who we are or where we came from, but your cookie truck will give us away.”
“This place has more than one bouncer?” Hannah asked, picking up on the fact that Michelle had mentioned bouncers.
“Four or five, at least. Things get a little rowdy on music nights.”
“And tonight is their music night?”
“Their music nights are Monday through Saturday. They’re closed on Sundays. Come on, Hannah. Let’s go.”
What have you gotten yourself into this time? Hannah’s mind chided her as she got out of the truck, locked it securely, and followed Michelle across the parking lot. You don’t belong in a place like this!
“Neither does Michelle!” Hannah said aloud.
Michelle turned back to her. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. Just talking to myself. Is there a cover charge?”
Michelle laughed. “In a place like this . . . hardly! There’s a two-drink minimum, that’s it. Get something in a can or bottle. It’s safer. The last time I was here, they had a C minus rating from the health board tacked to the door. That’s one violation short of closing them down.”
“Thanks for telling me,” Hannah said as they n
eared the door and she saw the health board sign for herself. “I was thinking of ordering a hamburger.”
“Not here. I’m hungry, too. When we finish here, we can stop in at the Corner Tavern. They’ve got great hamburgers and it’s on our way home.” Michelle arrived at the door and pulled it open.
Hannah followed her into the dim and crowded interior of the building. “Do you come here often?” she asked Michelle.
“Only when Crystal’s working.”
“Who’s Crystal?”
“One of the girls who lives in our house. She bartends here some weekends and a couple of us make the commute with her.”
“That’s an hour’s commute!”
“I know, but the tips are really good. That’s how I know the Corner Tavern is open late. We always call ahead for burgers and eat them on the way back to the house.”
Hannah remembered what Michelle had said about Lonnie. “So Lonnie doesn’t mind when you come here without him?”
“I’m not sure if he minds, or not. It’s no big secret, but I’m not sure if he even knows we drive down with Crystal and come out here.” Michelle stopped speaking and frowned slightly. “Lonnie and I aren’t married and we aren’t engaged to be married. I love Lonnie and I think he loves me, but we don’t have a firm commitment. I don’t know everything he does when he’s not with me, and he doesn’t know everything I do when I’m not with him. Our situation is a little like the situation you had with Norman and with Mike.”
Hannah noticed Michelle’s use of the past tense when she referred to Hannah’s situations with Norman and with Mike. Michelle was sure that her big sister was ready to make a commitment to Ross. But are you sure? Hannah’s mind asked her. I’ll know soon, Hannah answered the question, and this time she was very careful not to voice her answer aloud.
“Hi, there,” a cocktail waitress came bustling up to them.
“Hi, Laney.”
The waitress gave Michelle a closer look. “You’re a friend of Crystal’s . . . right?”
“That’s right. I’m Michelle.”
“Crystal’s not working tonight.”
“I know. She’s at home cramming for a test, but she’ll be in this weekend.”
“Good. She makes a great Appletini. All the girls love them. A table for two?”
“Could you make it a table for three? And just as close to the stage as we can get?” Michelle asked, handing Laney a folded bill. “Somebody may be joining us later.”
“Sure thing. Just follow me.”
With the agility of a mountain goat, Laney wove a narrow path between the too many tables in the too small a space, until she stopped at a tiny cocktail table with three chairs that was placed directly in front of center stage. “This okay with you?”
“Perfect,” Michelle told her. “Bring us two Bartles and Jaymes, any flavor, and two small bottles of water. And Laney? Can you do us a favor and open them right here at the table?”
“Sure thing. I would have done that anyway for any friend of Crystal’s, especially the way Jimmy is eyeing your friend.”
Hannah turned to look at the older man behind the bar and discovered that he was staring at her. At first she thought his left eye was twitching, but then she realized that he was winking at her and she turned away quickly. “What would he do?” she asked Laney.
“Put a couple shots of vodka in the bottles,” Laney answered her. “And then, when he saw you were having trouble walking straight, he would follow you out to the parking lot.”
Hannah gave a relieved sigh. “I’m glad we didn’t sit at the bar!”
“You should be,” Laney gave a little laugh. “Jimmy’s been on a tear ever since his wife up and left him. Even the waitresses have to watch it around him.”
When Laney left to get their drinks, Hannah glanced at the Eight Ball Bar patrons. The age range was wide, from the mid-twenties to the early sixties. The older women seemed cut from the same mold, dressing in clothing designed for younger, more toned bodies and sporting hair colors that probably weren’t real. They wore too much makeup, drank too many alcoholic fruit drinks, and laughed too loudly at each other’s jokes. There were a few couples, but not many.
And there was a definite segregation of the sexes. There were tables of women and tables of men, but very few mixed tables. The women were quite obviously vying for the attention of the men, but the men appeared oblivious to their attempts at flirtation.
Hannah turned to Michelle. “What’s going on here? Those women over there, the one in the red top for instance, is flirting with the man in the black shirt at the next table. She’s really loud and I’m sure he notices her, but he just keeps on talking to his buddies and doesn’t acknowledge her at all.”
“Of course not. It’s not last call.”
“What?”
“He’s waiting until it’s closer to closing time. If he notices her now, he’ll have to buy her drinks all night. If he waits, he can get away with one or two rounds.”
“He’s that cheap?”
“Yes, but so are most of the guys who come here. Crystal told us about it and I’ve seen it for myself. When they flick the lights for the last round, the men scurry around like rats, trying to pick someone up.”
“And the women let them?”
“Some do, some don’t. If we stayed, you’d see it for yourself, but I hope we won’t have to stay that long. The band’s due to start any minute now, and if we play our cards right, we can talk to Seth and get out of here in an hour tops.”
“I hope so,” Hannah said, trying not to sound as upset as she felt. She was sorry she’d asked about the dating ritual. It was sad to see these desperate women try to attract such callous men. Didn’t they realize that there was more to life than spending their nights like this?
It was a welcome distraction when the band arrived. There were four men, all dressed in show clothes. Their pants were skin-tight and black in color, and they wore gold satin cowboy shirts decorated with rhinestones. They had similar haircuts that emphasized their bleached-blond spiky hair, and they all wore pasted-on smiles. Hannah tried to decide which one was Seth Dortweiler, but since she’d never seen a photo of him, and since all of the band members looked alike, this was no more than guesswork.
“I’ll find out which one is Seth,” Michelle said, and Hannah wondered if her baby sister had been taking mind-reading classes at Macalister.
“Good idea,” Hannah replied. “I’ll pay for the drinks when they come.”
“Don’t tip Jimmy if he brings them,” Michelle warned, getting up from her chair. “He may think you’re paying him in advance for something a little more than delivering our drinks.”
Hannah sent up a silent prayer that Laney would be the one to deliver their drinks. And her prayers were answered almost immediately when Laney arrived at their table with a tray holding four bottles.
“I just saw Michelle up there,” she pointed to the raised stage, “talking to the boys in the band. I didn’t know she was a fan.”
“Neither did I,” Hannah said quite truthfully.
“There she goes through the kitchen door,” Laney announced, standing on tiptoe to follow Michelle’s progress through the overcrowded room. “She’s probably going out to the trailer to see Seth.”
“You’re probably right.”
“She’s a theater major, isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“I figured that. So is Crystal and she said everybody in their house is some kind of drama person. If Michelle gets in to see Seth, she’s in for the surprise of her life!”
“She is?” Hannah felt a seed of worry begin to grow rapidly. It rivaled time-lapse photography with the speed it took for the worry to bloom into full-blown fear. “What’s the surprise, Laney?” she asked.
“Seth looks like a Dee-Dee,” Laney told her, “but he’s not like that at all.”
“What’s a Dee-Dee?”
“A Degenerate Doper. That’s what he looks like onstage. But he is
n’t. It’s part of his act.”
Hannah was slightly relieved, but not entirely. “You seem to know Seth pretty well.”
“I should. His mother used to live on our block before she inherited that mansion of hers.”
The seed of worry had bloomed and died, and Hannah was grateful to Laney for the information. “So the degenerate doper persona is all an act?”
“You bet it’s an act!” Laney accepted the tip Hannah handed her and smiled her thanks. “Seth graduates from law school this year. The guys in the band go to law school, too.”
“With that hair?” Hannah glanced at the men, who were almost through setting up their equipment.
“They wear hairpieces. You ought to see them when they come out in their regular clothes. They could walk right in here and sit at a table, and no one would know who they were. By the way . . .” Laney leaned closer and lowered her voice, “I hope you brought earplugs. They’re pretty awful, but they put on a good show and the women love them. They’re especially crazy about Seth. He sings, if you can call it that.”
Hannah wasn’t sure she completely understood. “Do they do this for the thrill of it?”
“No, they do it for money. It’s helping to put all five of them through law school.”
“Did Seth’s father know he was going to law school?” Hannah asked.
“I don’t know for sure. All I know is that Seth’s mother doesn’t know. He told me he wants to shock her by inviting her to his graduation.”
“That’s a little odd, isn’t it?”
“Maybe, but he’s probably got his reasons. I never asked. I just promised never to tell her. Actually . . . I shouldn’t have mentioned it to you.” Laney looked very uncomfortable. “I guess that’s because you’re easy to talk to. You won’t tell his mother, will you?”
Double Fudge Brownie Murder (Hannah Swensen series Book 18) Page 20