Carrot Cake Murder (17 page)

Bake at 350 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes or until the marshmallows are golden on top. Cool in the pan on a wire rack.

When the Rocky Road Bar Cookies are cool, cut them into brownie-sized bars and serve.

If there are any leftovers (which there won’t be unless you have less than three people) store them in the refrigerator in a covered container. They can also be wrapped, sealed in a freezer bag, and frozen for up to two months.

Yield: 2 ½ to 3 dozen yummy treats that will please adults and kids alike.

“This is a wonderful cookie, Hannah!”

“That’s what Lisa said. But do you think it’s anything like the cookies Iris told you about?”

Delores gave a dainty little shrug. “I’m not sure, dear. It certainly tastes like the cookie she described to me. But there’s no way to tell unless she tastes it. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s right. Lisa took a few out to the reunion. I’m waiting for her to call and tell me what Iris thinks.”

Hannah got up to refill her mother’s coffee mug. They were sitting in the kitchen at The Cookie Jar, and Delores looked as fresh as the first daffodil of spring in a bright yellow linen suit with a lacy white shell. If Hannah were wearing the same suit, in a larger size of course, she’d look as wilted as an old banana skin.

“What is it, dear? You’re staring at me.”

“Sorry. You look wonderful this morning, Mother.”

“Thank you, Hannah.”

“I was just wondering if your suit is real linen.”

“Of course it is. You know I don’t like to wear synthetics.”

“I know that, but…” Hannah stopped and sighed.

“But what?”

“I can’t figure out how you can wear a linen suit when it’s this hot and humid outside and still not get it wrinkled.”

“I’m careful, dear. And I take off the jacket and hang it up on the hook in the back of the car when I drive.”

“But your skirt isn’t wrinkled, either.”

“Well, I don’t take it off and hang it up in the car, if that’s what you’re thinking!”

Delores gave a little laugh and Hannah joined in. Her mother was quick-witted this morning. “I’m careful about how I sit,” Delores explained. “Your grandmother used to say, Ladies don’t wrinkle unless they assume unladylike positions.”

Hannah nodded. Her maternal grandmother had been a stickler for proper etiquette, impeccable grammar, and a ladylike demeanor.

“You said you wanted to ask me some questions about Gus,” her mother opened the discussion.

“I do. Did you manage to find a picture of him about the time the two of you were dating?”

Delores reached for one of four Jordan High yearbooks she’d stacked on the stainless steel surface of the workstation and flipped it open to a page that was marked with a pink strip of paper. “This is his formal senior picture.”

Hannah stared down at the yearbook photo. Gus looked every bit as handsome as Marge and Patsy had claimed he was. She could understand why the high school girls had been wild about him.

“What happened to him after high school? I was going to ask Marge, but I forgot. Did he go on to college?”

Delores shook her head. “Good heavens, no. His grades weren’t good enough. He got drafted.”

“Into the Army?”

“No, into the minors. Didn’t anybody tell you that Gus played baseball?”

“Marge and Patsy mentioned it, but I thought it was just in high school.”

“No, Gus was really very good, and he was a first round draft pick. He still holds the Minnesota state record for the highest batting average.”

“Did he ever make it to the majors?” Hannah asked.

“I don’t think so. I’m sure Marge would have mentioned it to me.” Delores stopped and looked thoughtful. “Or maybe not. I was already engaged to your father by then, and she might have thought it wasn’t appropriate to bring it up.”

“Was Gus still playing baseball when he came back to Lake Eden to stay with Marge and his parents?”

“No. I know that for a fact. Gus came into the hardware store one day and he told your father he’d quit the farm team.”

“Did he give a reason?”

“He said that life on the road with a baseball team just wasn’t for him, that he wanted to get a good job and settle down. But I never believed that!”

“Why not?”

“Because it was his chance for a great career if he’d worked at it. I don’t think he did. It just wasn’t in his nature. For one thing, there were the women. I’m sure he had plenty when he was with the team, and he probably didn’t treat them well. He certainly didn’t in high school! And then there was the gambling. The Gus I knew when we were in high school made his spending money by cheating at cards and making rigged bets.”

“Didn’t he ever lose?” Hannah was curious.

“Only when he ran into someone who was a bigger cheater than he was. And when that happened, he just borrowed money from his sisters, or his current girlfriend, and kept right on gambling. He drank a lot, too. It was easy for him to buy liquor, because he looked older than most of the other boys.”

“Did you ever lend him money when you were dating him?”

Delores gave a little sigh. “More often than I should have. And he didn’t always pay me back. As a matter of fact, I think he still owed me twenty dollars when he left Lake Eden. Gus was a louse, pure and simple.”

“Maybe he changed,” Hannah suggested, playing devil’s advocate.

“A leopard doesn’t change its spots.” Delores gave a little snort for emphasis. “I’m willing to bet that he was kicked off the team for drinking, or gambling, or romancing the wrong woman, or something like that.”

Hannah bit her tongue and didn’t say anything about sour grapes or a woman scorned. This was her mother, after all. Instead, she pulled the Jordan High yearbooks closer and smiled at her mother. “Show me the pictures?” she asked.

For long moments, Hannah looked and Delores pointed, giving a brief explanation for each photo she’d marked. The collection of Gus Klein pictures was extensive. There were at least a dozen photos in each book. It appeared that Gus had been awarded almost every high school athletic trophy, although Hannah didn’t notice any academic honors.

“That’s it, dear,” Delores said, closing the last yearbook. “Is there anything else you need to know?”

“Just a few more things. Do you know anything about why Gus Klein left Lake Eden in the middle of the night?”

“I’m not sure why he left. I don’t think he told anyone. And I don’t know the details, but I heard there was a big fight between Gus and Jack Herman.”

“Who told you that?”

“Your father. He was driving home from the store with Uncle Ed, and they stopped to break up the fight.”

“What was the fight about?”

“I asked, but your father wouldn’t tell me. Uncle Ed wouldn’t say, either.”

“So nobody knows?”

“Nobody knew except your father and Uncle Ed. And they’re both gone now.” Delores stopped and blinked hard, several times. “Of course Jack Herman knows, but…”

“But he might not be able to remember,” Hannah finished her mother’s thought.

“That’s right. Poor Jack. Your father said he got the worst of it, and they dropped him off at Doc Knight’s clinic to get stitched up. That was before the hospital was built. They didn’t want to take Jack home that way and scare Emmy half to death. Iris was just a toddler, and Emmy was expecting Tim any day.”

Hannah made a mental note to talk to Doc Knight about the night he’d treated Gus. Perhaps Lisa’s father had said something about the fight.

“Is there anything else, dear?” Delores asked, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I need to pick up Carrie and go out to the mall. We want to find a little something for Jack’s birthday party.”

“There’s just one more thing. Do you think there’s anyone in town who had a grudge against Gus? Maybe somebody who might have wanted to see him dead?”

Delores’s eyes widened. If she’d been depicted as a cartoon character, the little balloon over her head would have contained a drawing of a lightbulb. “Yes, I do! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it right away! Remember when I told you about Mary Sue Erickson?” She waited for Hannah to nod, and then she went on. “Well, that didn’t last long. Gus only went out with her twice. But right after that, he dated Bert Kuehn’s older sister.”

Hannah was puzzled. “I’ve never heard of Bert Kuehn’s older sister. Does she live in town?”

“She doesn’t live anywhere, dear. Bert’s sister is dead. She died the night of the senior prom in a terrible car accident.”

“You told me Gus was a drinker. Was he driving drunk?”

“Not according to the accident report. It said that Bert’s sister was at the wheel and her blood alcohol level was normal.”

Hannah picked up on her mother’s phrasing. “But there was some question about whether Bert’s sister was actually driving?”

“Yes, there was. No one could prove otherwise, but the first person on the scene was the Jordan High baseball coach. He pulled both of them from the car before Doc Knight got there. Everyone in town wondered whether Gus had been driving and the coach had covered it up for him.”

“Why would he do something like that?”

“To save Gus’s career and his reputation as a coach. It was a feather in his cap to have one of his ballplayers drafted. As a matter of fact, he left Jordan High the next year and got a job in college baseball as an assistant coach. I seem to remember it was somewhere in Michigan, but I’m not sure exactly which college.”

Hannah flipped open her stenographer’s notebook, the one she’d designated as her murder book, to jot down the names. Bert Kuehn certainly had a reason to hate Uncle Gus, and both Bert and Ellie had been at the dance the night Gus was killed. They’d even brought six of their house specials from Bertanelli’s Pizza for the potluck dinner. “What was the baseball coach’s name, Mother?” she asked.

“Toby Hutchins. But I really don’t know where he went when he left Lake Eden. All I can remember is that his new team was the wolves, or something like that.”

“Wolverines?”

“That’s it, dear. Do they play in Michigan?”

“Ann Arbor. The Wolverines is the team name for the University of Michigan athletic program.”

“Really!” Delores looked impressed. “How do you know that?”

“It just stuck in my mind,” Hannah said, settling for a half-truth. She wasn’t about to tell her mother that she’d worked to memorize the team names from all the big colleges to impress a boy she’d hoped to date in high school.

“I really don’t think you could track him down at this late date,” Delores told her. “That was years ago, and I doubt he’s still coaching baseball.”

“If he’s still alive, I’ll find him,” Hannah said, more confidently than she felt. “Is there anyone else who might have wanted Gus dead?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps one of the girls he stopped dating in high school carried a grudge.”

“Who would that be?” Hannah asked, mentally adding her mother’s name to the list. Of course the way Delores told it, she’d dumped Gus when she’d caught him kissing another girl. That made her the dumper and Gus the dumpee, not the other way around.

“Oh, dear. I can’t really remember all the girls that Gus dated. He was the love-them-and-leave-them type.”

“Could you get together with Marge and Patsy when you get out to the reunion, and see if they remember any names?”

“Of course. You know I want to help, dear. I’ll just take these yearbooks with me and see if they remember anybody. And I’ll see whether I can find any of his old classmates to talk to. Lottie Borge is here. She married a Herman cousin. And she was only a year behind Gus in high school.”

Just then Luanne Hanks stuck her head in the door. “Lisa just called and she said to tell you that Iris tasted a cookie. She said she thinks they’re perfect.”

“Great!” Hannah exchanged a high five with her mother.

“And Mike Kingston’s here and he says he wants to talk to you. Should I send him back?”

When Hannah nodded, Delores picked up her stack of yearbooks and headed for the door. “What does he want?” she asked as she pulled it open.

“He wants to pick my brain.” Hannah gave a little laugh and waved goodbye to her mother. “And since I want to pick his, it amounts to a draw.”

“Hi, Mike,” Hannah said when he came through the swinging, restaurant-style door that separated the coffee shop from the kitchen. “I’m a little short on time. Do you mind if I mix up a batch of cookies while we talk?”

“I don’t mind, especially if you feed me.” Mike flashed her his famous grin.

Hannah glanced over at the trays of cookies ready to be packed up and taken out to the birthday party. “I’ve got Raisin Drops, Molasses Crackles, Red Velvet Cookies, and Party Cookies.”

“What are Party Cookies?”

“These.” Hannah held up one of the pretty four-color pastel cookies she’d made earlier this morning. “They’re for Jack Herman’s birthday party tonight, but I’ve got plenty.”

“I’ll take one of those and one of the Red Velvet Cookies. I’ve never had either one of them before.”

“You got it!” Hannah said, grabbing the cookies and delivering them, along with a mug of black coffee.

“Thanks, Hannah. I expect you’ve been asking questions.”

“Some.”

“Did you find out anything?”

“Not much.” Hannah started to melt chocolate for the Red Velvet Cookies to give her a few seconds to think. She didn’t want to tell Mike too much, but she had to tell him something. “Marge and Patsy talked to me right before dinner last night,” she said.

“And?”

“They had some doubt that the victim, the man who claimed to be Gus Klein, really was their brother.”

“Really?

Mike’s eyes widened slightly, and Hannah knew she’d handed him a nugget he hadn’t panned. “I guess Marge and Patsy didn’t tell you that.”

“No. But it figures they’d tell you.”

Hannah stopped in her tracks and turned, six squares of unsweetened chocolate in her hand. “I thought this was supposed to be an exchange of information, not a contest about who’s going to get all the clues and catch the killer first.”

“It is an exchange of information! At least that’s what I want it to be.” Mike looked very sincere. “Do you think I could be letting my ego get in the way?”