Carrot Cake Murder (4 page)

DILL SAUCE

Hannah’s Note: This sauce is best if you make it at least 4 hours in advance and refrigerate it in an airtight container. (Overnight is even better.)

2 Tablespoons heavy cream

½ cup mayonnaise

1 teaspoon crushed fresh baby dill (if you can’t find baby dill, you can make it with ½ teaspoon dried dill weed, but it won’t be as good)

Mix the cream with the mayonnaise until it’s smooth and then mix in the dill. Put the sauce in a small bowl, cover it with plastic wrap, and refrigerate it for at least 4 hours.

EDNA’S EASY CELERY SAUCE

Hannah’s 1stNote: If you make your Salmon Cakes at the drop of a hat, the way I occasionally do, you won’t have time to make the Dill Sauce. All Edna’s Easy Celery Sauce requires is a can of cream of celery soup and some milk or cream.

Hannah’s 2ndNote: The can of cream of celery soup should be in your pantry as a staple, along with a can of cream of mushroom soup, and a can of tomato soup, and a can of cream of chicken soup. They’re a good base for any sauce you want to make on the fly.

One can of cream of celery soup, undiluted (10 to 11 ounces depending on brand name—used Campbell’s).

Milk or cream to thin

Open the can. Dump it in a small microwave-safe bowl. Heat it in the microwave until it’s piping hot. (Try 30 seconds and see if it’s hot enough. If not, heat at 15-second increments until it is. Thin it with the milk or cream to sauce consistency.)

Drizzle the sauce over the Salmon Cakes, sprinkle on a little parsley or fresh dill if you happen to have it, and serve immediately.

Hannah’s 3rdNote: Edna tells me that you can also use undiluted cream of chicken soup (if you’re using the chicken variation,) cream of mushroom soup, or cream of garlic soup. She also said something about cream of asparagus soup for Shrimp Cakes, but I haven’t tried it.

Hannah knew that if she had to hear one more chorus of the Beer Barrel Polka, she’d scream. It reminded her of the dance she’d shared with Marvin Dubinski only minutes before, and that wasn’t a pleasant memory. Once dinner had been served and the dessert buffet had been set out on the bar, the dancing had begun. Hannah had danced nonstop for at least thirty minutes, going from partner to partner. Her first partner was Mike, and then Norman, followed by Bill, Lonnie, Mayor Bascomb, and Jon Walker. Her last partner, Marvin Dubinski, had finished Hannah off for the night. They’d danced to a polka, and Marvin had stepped on her feet a total of six times. Now she was hiding out in a booth with Marge Beeseman and her family, hoping that Marvin wouldn’t spot her and ask her to dance any more polkas.

Mercifully, Frankie and the Frankfurters, the local band Lisa and Herb had hired for the dance, segued into a waltz. At least Hannah thought it was a waltz. It had a one-two-three, one-two-three rhythm, but the band played it so rapidly, most of the couples on the floor gave up trying to move to the music and came to a halt. The few that did attempt to dance whirled around as fast as the blades in the window fans, bumping into the stationary couples and making them scramble to get out of the way.

At least Frankie, if that really was his name, realized his mistake. He led his group into a slower number, one with a cuddle-up-and-barely-move rhythm that restored order to the dance floor. Hannah tuned back into the conversation at hand, just in time to hear Marge Beeseman’s question. Since Hannah was sandwiched in the big round booth between Marge and her brother, Gus, she had no choice but to be a party to their conversation.

“Did you find what you wanted to take from your old room?” Marge asked.

“Part of it. I couldn’t find my favorite bedspread. I wanted to hang it on the wall in the guest bedroom. That has a western theme.”

“Are you talking about the chenille one with Roy Rogers on it?”

“Yeah. The trunks were all labeled, and Lisa showed me the one from my bedroom. I thought it would be there, but it wasn’t. I guess I’ll have to go to some antique stores to find another one.”

“That might be really expensive,” Marge cautioned him. “Some of those old memorabilia items go for an arm and a leg.”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t mind paying for what I want. It’s one of the advantages to having money.”

Hannah was still watching the dance floor. The havoc was over, and the mirrored ball that hung from the ceiling rotated like the planets in the science project her father had helped her make in ninth grade. As the ball revolved, it sent beams of colored light down to illuminate the dancers who were now moving sedately. Since everything was calm, and there was no bump or tumble imminent, she turned her attention from the dance floor to Marge’s brother, Gus. Hannah assumed that he was just trying to impress people, but he certainly mentioned money a lot!

Gus Klein was a handsome, well-dressed man in his fifties. Just an inch or so short of the six-foot mark, he had carefully styled dark blond hair with an elegant streak of silver over his left temple. The silver streak made him look distinguished, and Hannah suspected a beautician had placed it there. She knew she shouldn’t make snap judgments, but he seemed to be a man who was all about appearances. Some people believed that if the package was appealing enough, it didn’t really matter what was inside. Hannah was not one of them. Naturally, she preferred an attractive package, but it was what was inside that really counted.

What was inside Gus Klein? Hannah hadn’t known him long enough to know, but he seemed a bit shallow to her, and she didn’t like his continual bragging about his life in Atlantic City. He’d told them all that he had a standing appointment for a manicure at his office, he called in a masseuse when he felt tense, and when he entertained, he ordered food from the most exclusive restaurant in town and had it delivered to his penthouse condo.

She did know that Gus expected everyone else to wait on him. When Marge had asked him to join her at the buffet line, he’d told her he was too busy talking to some Brainerd cousins and practically ordered her to bring him a plate. The same thing had happened with the dessert buffet. It was as if his time was too valuable to stand in line like the rest of the relatives. He’d sent Lisa off to bring a sampler plate of dessert and coffee for the table, and then he’d passed out what he’d said were real Cuban cigars that he’d imported at great expense.

Hannah looked around for Andrea and spotted her on the dance floor with Bill. Andrea was the fashion expert, and Hannah hoped she’d assessed Gus’s clothing. While Hannah didn’t know a whole lot about men’s attire, or women’s either for that matter, she knew that the clothes Gus wore weren’t mail order. They weren’t mall clothing, either.

So what was the bottom line on Gus? Hannah thought about it for a minute. Most would say that he was handsome, charming, and sophisticated. And for those who didn’t dig deeper, all of the above would be correct. But Hannah had the feeling that Gus was none of the above. She couldn’t help but feel that he was playing a part, trying to appear urbane and elegant when he was really a beer-and-brat guy. Something wasn’t quite right about Gus Klein’s public persona, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

Hannah glanced at Marge. Lisa’s mother-in-law was dressed to the nines tonight in an outfit that Hannah termed aging hippie, a phrase she’d never utter out loud for fear she’d hurt Marge’s feelings. Some ladies liked to look sleek. Delores was a case in point. Her outfits were always tailored to embrace her perfect figure. Other ladies liked flounces, full skirts that swung out like cowgirls at a Saturday night square dance. Marge liked flutter. Butterfly wings and swooping fringes had nothing on her tonight. She was wearing a purple chiffon pantsuit that fluttered around her legs when she walked, and almost cleared off the table when she made a sweeping gesture.

Jack Herman, Lisa’s dad, sat next to Marge. He looked handsome in dark slacks and a lavender shirt, but he didn’t look happy. His lips were curved in a smile, but his eyes were angry and Hannah could tell that his smiling countenance was nothing but a polite gesture. Several times during the evening, she’d caught him glaring at Gus. Lisa had mentioned that there was bad blood between them, but when Lisa had asked her father what was wrong, he’d refused to discuss it.

Marge’s twin, Patsy, looked so much like Marge that Hannah could believe the stories they’d told about how they used to play jokes on their dates by switching places halfway through the evening. There were ways to tell the twins apart, but only if they were standing side by side. Patsy’s hair was slightly darker and she was a bit heavier than Marge. Marge’s nose was a smidgen longer. Patsy’s eyebrows were darker. It wasn’t much of a yardstick to tell them apart, and Hannah was glad they didn’t dress alike.

Mac, Patsy’s husband, sat next to her. He was handsome and athletic, and Hannah had caught several of the unattached women at the dance eyeing him appreciatively. Patsy had noticed too, but she didn’t seem concerned. Either she trusted her husband completely, or she just didn’t care. Hannah was betting on the latter since they were sitting right next to each other without touching. If her psychology professor at college was correct when he lectured on body language, the space between them spoke volumes about the health of their marriage.

“I don’t think Mother bought your bedspread at a store,” Marge said to Gus.

“She didn’t,” Patsy confirmed it. “I remember we saved box tops for her and she sent away for it.”

“That’s right! You know the type of thing we’re talking about, don’t you, Hannah?”

Hannah was jolted out of her musing and back to the scene by Marge’s question. It was a good thing she’d been half listening to the conversation. While she’d much rather be ignored and left to her own thoughts, Marge obviously wanted to include her.

“I think I do,” Hannah answered. “Andrea and I saved the little proof of purchase circles from something or other so that Michelle could have a fairy princess wand. All we had to pay was the postage and handling.”

“Did she like it?” Patsy asked.

“She loved it. Unfortunately, the little bulb burned out the first week, and Dad couldn’t find a replacement.”

“That’s probably what happened to your bedspread,” Marge said to Gus.

“It burned out?” Gus gave her a little grin to show he was kidding.

“Close. It must have fallen apart when Mother washed it to store it in the trunk. But you said you found some things you wanted.”

“I got some of my baseball stuff.”

“The special bat Dad bought you when you made the team at Jordan High?” Patsy asked.

Gus nodded. “It was right on top, my Louisville Slugger, the one I used in high school. I hit my first home run with that bat. I couldn’t find my glove, though.” Gus gave a little chuckle. “Maybe that fell apart right along with my bedspread.”

“You could be right,” Patsy told him. “Leather does that if it’s not treated.”

“And I know Mother didn’t treat it,” Marge picked up on her sister’s comment. “She kept your old room just as it was for a couple of years, and then she packed everything up and put it in the trunk. Dad dragged it up to the attic, and I’m pretty sure they never looked at it again. It was just too painful, you know?”

Gus shifted a bit and Hannah could tell he was uncomfortable. “Well, I’m glad they kept my things for me.” He turned to Hannah. “Did you keep anything from your childhood?”

“Let me think about that for a second.” Hannah recognized his attempt to steer the conversation in another direction. It was clear he didn’t want to answer difficult personal questions. Hannah thought about thwarting his attempt, but Gus was looking at her the way a drowning man might look at a rescue vessel, and she simply had to help him out. “I still have the pink satin toe shoes I bought when I was a kid.”

“Ballet?” Marge sounded incredulous. “I didn’t know you took ballet lessons.”

“That’s just the problem. I didn’t. When I was about eleven, I got the notion that if only I had the proper shoes, I could dance the lead in Swan Lake.”

“So you got the shoes and discovered that you couldn’t do it?” Marge asked.

“That’s right,” Hannah replied, dismissing it with a smile and a shrug, not mentioning the disappointment she’d suffered when she couldn’t achieve en pointe without grasping the back of a sturdy chair and hauling herself up on it. She’d been so sure she was a natural in a field that had no naturals, only dedication, constant practice, and years and years of ballet training. But this wasn’t the time or the place to bare her soul. It was best to make light of it “Another childhood dream fractured. You know how it is. But I did keep all the Degas prints my mother bought for me.”

“So here we all are, reliving old memories,” Jack said, staring directly across the table at Gus. “Remember Mary Jo Kuehn?”

The silence that followed Jack’s question was so heavy Hannah imagined she could cut with a knife. She wasn’t sure what it meant since she’d never heard of Mary Jo Kuehn, but everyone except Jack looked uncomfortable.

“I remember,” Gus said, “and I’ll never stop missing her. She was such a pretty girl. But I met another pretty girl today, Jack.”

“Who was that?” Marge asked, seizing the opportunity to change the subject.

“Jack’s oldest daughter, Iris.” Gus turned back to Jack. “She doesn’t look at all like you, so I guess she must take after her mother. And speaking of Emmy, you’re here with Marge. Did you and Emmy get a divorce?”

Jack gave him a look that would freeze lilacs in July. “Emily is dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Gus sounded sincere to Hannah’s ears. “How about your sister, Heather?”

“She’s dead, too,” Jack repeated, still glowering.

“Do you remember Mr. Burnside?” Marge trilled, and Hannah’s eyebrows shot up. She’d never heard Marge sound so intensely cheerful before.

“Of course.” Patsy sounded deliberately cheerful, too. “I thought I was going flunk algebra, but he took pity on me.”

“You did all right,” Marge reached over to pat her hand. “Did you enjoy the dessert buffet?”