Sugar Cookie Murder (7 page)

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Authors: Joanne Fluke

Tags: #Mystery, #Romance, #Thriller, #Crime, #Contemporary, #Chick-Lit, #Adult, #Humour

BOOK: Sugar Cookie Murder
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My daughter, the humorist, Hannah imagined her mother saying, as she walked away. She resisted the urge to go back and really quiz Winthrop about his intentions, and she settled for catching Andrea’s eye. Her sister was sitting with Martin and Brandi, looking about as comfortable as an overdue pregnant woman suffering from terminal boredom could look. Hannah gave a her a high sign that meant she’d relieve her in a few minutes and they’d compare notes about Winthrop. Andrea nodded, catching Hannah’s drift perfectly. They’d always been able t communicate without words, perhaps the result of living with a mother who always had to have the last word on everything.

Hannah glanced toward the kitchen doorway to see Edna gesturing for her. It was time to set out the food. She hurried into the kitchen, and moments later she was carrying out dishes according to Edna’s instructions. Once the appetizer table was ready and Norman had photographed it, Mayor Bascomb told everyone that they were welcome to dig in. the crowd converged and Hannah rejoiced in the oohs and ahhs of the admiring diners as they sampled Spinach Rollups, Busy Day Pâté, Fiesta Dip Platter, and Caviar Pie. There were dozens of appetizers on the groaning board, including Baked Brie, Bill Jessup’s Misdemeanor Mushrooms, Mrs. Knudson’s Herring Appetizer, and Seafood Bread Dip, one of the appetizer recipes Carrie Rhodes had submitted for the cookbook.

Hannah took a thin sliver of her Spinach Quiche. Since they had plenty of entrées, Edna had cut it into as many thin slices as possible and arranged them on a platter as an appetizer. Then she walked over to join her sister, who had gone up to the appetizer table with Martin and Brandi and was still sitting with them.

After the introductions had been made and Hannah had congratulated the newlyweds, she leaned forward to attempt polite conversation with Brandi. “Your dress is beautiful.”

“I know. Martin said I could have anything I wanted, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t expect it to go to four figures.”

Hannah did her best to keep the friendly smile on her face. She knew four figures meant a thousand dollars at the least. She also knew that Martin’s small business didn’t make a fortune and he had two children to support. “I guess Lake Eden must be quite a change from Las Vegas.”

“You can say that again.”

Hannah had the urge to do just that. At least it would give her something else to say. What she really wanted to know was why Brandi had married Martin in the first place, but it would be rude to ask.

“So . . . you married?” Brandi asked, glancing down at Hannah’s bare fingers.

“No, I’m not.” Hannah felt the urge to babble just to fill the silence, and she gave in to it. “I haven’t found the right man yet, I guess.”

“You won’t, not here. These small towns are death for single women, especially when they get to be your age. But don’t get me wrong . . . you’re not bad looking and some men like that natural, untouched look. I bet I could have lined you up with somebody really hot in Vegas.”

Hannah frowned. She didn’t really even want to think about the type of man Brandi might have picked out for her and she quickly changed the subject. “Have you met Martin’s sons yet?”

“No. I’m not big on kids, but at least they’re boys. I get along a lot better with boys.”

I’ll bet you do! Hannah thought, but of course she didn’t say it. Making conversation with Brandi was like trying to drive a truck out of a mud hole. Every time she managed to crawl forward a few feet, she slipped right back in the muck.

“Who’s that?” Brandi gestured toward a table at the front of the room.

“Who’s who?”

“That guy with that awful Christmas tie. He looks familiar.”

“That’s our mayor, Richard Bascomb.”

“He looks like somebody I met a while back, but the name’s not familiar.”

Hannah nodded, but her mind was racing. Mayor Bascomb had flown to Las Vegas for a convention a couple of months ago. If he’d hooked up with Brandi and wanted to maintain his anonymity, he might not have used his own name.

“Excuse me a second, will you? I have to talk to Marty.”

Hannah breathed a sigh of relief as Brandi huddled with Martin. Now she was free to talk to Andrea. “So where’s Bill? I thought he’d be here by now.”

“He just called me. the Tri-County Sheriff’s Coalition meeting is running late, and he might not be here for hours.”

Brandi turned to tap Andrea on the arm. “I never thought to ask you when Marty said your husband was the sheriff, but is there a problem with crime in this area?”

“Not at all,” Andrea assured her, and Hannah almost choke don her bite of quiche. It was clear that her sister wasn’t about to mention the murder cases they’d helped Bill and Mike solve.

“Oh, good! Then maybe I’ll put my new fur coat in the cloakroom after dinner.” Brandi reached out to stroke the coat that she wore draped over her shoulders. “Since it was so expensive, I didn’t want to leave it unattended, but Marty said it was perfectly safe. I was just hoping that he was right . . . about that, at least.”

Hannah stifled a groan at the last four words of Brandi’s sentence. It sounded to her like trouble in paradise, and they’d been married for less than a week.

“Martin’s right,” Andrea said, smiling at Brandi. “Theft has never been a problem in Lake Eden. Some people don’t even lock their doors. Did you happen to notice the silver cake knife on the platter next to the chocolate cake?’

“I saw it when we were standing in line for the appetizers. It’s really pretty. I like all those colored stones on the Christmas tree.”

“They’re gemstones. The big one on the top is a star-cut diamond and the smaller ones are sapphires, rubies, and emeralds. The knife is a solid silver antique worth thousands.”

“But . . . it’s just sitting there in plain sight and no one’s even keeping an eye on it.”

“I know,” Andrea zeroed in to prove her point, “and that just goes to prove that you don’t have to be worried about somebody stealing your fur coat in Lake Eden. People here are as honest as the day is long.”

When Brandi had returned to her conversation with Martin, Hannah tapped Andrea on the shoulder. “If Bill gets hung up, I’m sure Mike will give you and Tracey a ride home.”

“In his Hummer?” Andrea looked delighted when Hannah nodded. “That’s just great! Tracey said it was bumpy, and it might work as well as Lisa’s mother’s horseback ride!”

Chapter 7

Hannah stood up as Edna motioned to her from the kitchen door. It was time to set out the salad, soup, and bread course. “Nice to meet you, Brandi. Sorry I can’t stay, but I have to help set out the next course. Andrea?”

“Yes?”

“You wanted to check on that Jell-O salad, didn’t you?”

“Jell-O . . .” Andrea looked blank for a split second and then realization dawned. “Yes! Thanks for reminding me.” She turned to Martin and Brandi. “It was nice chatting with you, Brandi. And congratulations, Martin. I wish you two all the best.”

Hannah heard her sister give a relieved sigh as they stepped away from the table. She’d been sitting with the newlyweds for over thirty minutes, and that was above and beyond. She turned to say thank you for helping out, but that thought vanished when she noticed the shocked expression on Andrea’s face.

“What’s the matter?”

“Hot Stuff. And That’s got to be Silver Fox.”

“What?” Hannah grabbed her sister’s arm. Did pregnant women start spouting nonsense when they went into labor? She really should have read one of the pamphlets Andrea had given her about childbirth.

“Hot Stuff.” Andrea pointed toward an older couple at one of the long tables. “That’s Vera Olsen’s screen name. Don’t you remember the e-mail she was answering when we were searching her attic apartment?”

“Right.” Hannah felt a wave of relief sluice down from the top of her head to her toes. Andrea wasn’t in labor and she wasn’t crazy. She was talking about Vera’s on-line romance with a man who called himself Silver Fox.

“Vera looks fabulous. She’s lost weight and had her hair streaked. I think she might have had a lift, too.”

Hannah glanced over at Vera. Andrea was always right when it came to noticing appearance enhancements and she could spot a facelift or a new hairstyle from a block away. “You’re right. Vera looks a lot younger.

“Do you think he’s Silver Fox?”

“I think so.” Hannah tried to recall the photo she’d seen on the computer screen. If she remember correctly, the handsome older man sitting beside Vera bore a close resemblance to the picture of Silver Fox standing at the helm of his boat.

“He’s certainly dressed well. That’s a cashmere vest and an Armani suit. And his hair’s been styled by someone really good. Not only that, his manicure is perfect.”

“Silver Fox has a manicure?” Hannah squinted, but there was no way she could match her sister’s eagle eye for spotting nuances of personal grooming.

“Manicures aren’t just for women, you know. Big executives make appointments for manicurists to come to their offices. I bet that’s what he is.”

“A manicurist?” Hannah asked, knowing that wasn’t what her sister meant, but unable to resist teasing her a bit.

“Of course he’s not a manicurist! He’s got to be someone with a big, important . . . “ Andrea stopped in mid-thought and made a strangled sound.

Hannah tightened her grip on her sister’s arm. “Is there something wrong? Do you want to sit down? Is it the baby?”

“None of the above. And stop holding my arm in that death grip. I’m going to bruise.”

“Sorry.” Hannah dropped Andrea’s arm, but she kept her hand at the ready, just in case. “Why did you make that sound?”

“Just take a look at Vera’s finger and you’ll understand.”

Hannah took a look and made an identical strangled sound as she spotted the glittering diamond ring on Vera’s third finger left hand. It was easy to see, perhaps because Vera was using her left hand to wave to everyone she knew. “Does that mean Vera’s engaged?”

“I think so. I’m going to try to find out.”

The sisters parted ways at the food tables. Andrea headed for the section where Vera and the man they’d tentatively identified as Silver Fox were sitting, and Hannah headed for the kitchen. She found Edna standing at the counter, surveying the platters, bowls, and the army of Crock-Pots that stood at the ready. “Where do you want the soup bowls, Edna? At the end of the table?”

“Good idea. I’ll take them out and you can bring the soups.”

“Do we have enough ladles?”

“Thanks to your sister we do. Put Vera’s Gazpacho first, since her boyfriend flew in special for the holidays. She told me she paid a fortune for hothouse tomatoes so she could make it for him.”

“He look nice,” Hannah commented, fishing for information as she picked up the large tureen Vera had brought in and followed Edna to the serving table.

“He seems all right, but you can never tell about a man until you’ve known him for a while . . . unless you meet him in church.”

Hannah bit back a startled laugh as she thought of some notable exceptions to Edna’s caveat, and headed back to the kitchen to get the four other soups. There was Sally’s Radish Soup, the one she served at the Lake Eden Inn, with its delicate pink color and surprising depth. Hannah let Edna float a few thinly sliced radishes over the top while she went back for Bridget Murphy’s Quick Irish Chili.

“I’ve got the toppings for the chili,” Edna called out following on Hannah’s heels with a platter containing dishes of diced onions, sour cream, chipped black olives, and lightly sautéed celery slices. “You get the Corn Chowder, and I’ll bring my Cream of Cheat Mushroom Soup.”

Once the soups were set out with regular bowls and a multitude of tiny cups for those who wanted to taste all four, Hannah and Edna went back to the kitchen.

“I’ll take care of the Jell-O molds,” Edna said, gesturing toward the breads she’d already set out in baskets, on plates, and on breadboards. “You can put those breads out now, and come back for the Jell-O.”

It took Hannah several minutes to set out the breads. Most of the local ladies had their favorites, and there was Sally’s Banana Bread, Gina’s Strawberry Bread, Cranberry Muffins, and Aunt Grace’s Breakfast Muffins. Once those were in place, opposite the soups, she went back for Cheryl Coombs’s Can Bread, which Edna had pre-sliced and arranged on a platter. She’d also cut Bridget Murphy’s’ Soda Bread into pie-shaped wedges and reassembled them in a round on a breadboard. There was a basket of Cheesy, Spicy Corn Muffins, and a big round wicker bowl of oyster crackers that Edna had provided for Mayor Bascomb, who categorically refused to eat soup without them.

When Hannah returned to the kitchen again, she saw that Edna was ready with two of the four Jell-O molds.

“Put the Pretty Coleslaw first,” Edna instructed, “and then the Waldorf Salad. I’ve got to tell you, Hannah, I’m having second thoughts about this Ginger Ale Jell-O mold.”

“Didn’t it set up right?”

“That’s not it. It’s nice and firm, and it looks really good. But since it’s got fruit in it, I’m wondering if it should go on the dessert table.”

Hannah thought about that for a moment and then she shrugged. “That’s up to you, but we’ve got a lot of desserts already.”

“That settles it then. It’s a salad. You can take it out now. I’m still trying to unmold your sister’s Holiday Jell-O.”

By the time Hannah got back to the kitchen, Edna had resorted to using the dunk method to get the last mold on its platter. She’d half-filled a bowl with hot water and she was immersing the mold in the bowl to within an inch of the rim. “That should do it,” she said, lifting the mold and drying the bottom with a kitchen towel. “Hand me that platter, will you, Hannah?”

Hannah handed over the platter, and Edna centered it over the top of the mold. Then she held the assembled mold and platter with both hands and inverted it by twisting her wrists.

“Perfect,” Hannah said as the Jell-O plopped cooperatively onto its platter. “There’s one more salad, isn’t there?”

“Just a big bowl of greens tossed with Claire’s French Dressing. I’m going to put a couple of Ellie’s Dilly Onion Rings on the top and leave the rest in a bowl for those that want them.”

“How about Reverend Knudson’s Quick Pickle Salad?”

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