Christmas Cake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “Let me,” he said, taking the two ledgers out of the drawer and quickly stuffing them into the box, quickly taping it shut. “Go out the window and use the fire escape. Climb down to the second-floor landing. I opened that window a crack on my way up here. Push up the window and climb back inside, but don’t use the elevator. Just walk down the stairs to the ground floor, go out the side door, and don’t stop until you get to the post office. You have to mail that package.”

  “I will. But . . . what are you going to do?” she asked, her voice shaking with fear.

  “I’ll be fine as long as you’re safe. They don’t suspect me. Just take this and go, honey. You’ve got to protect our baby!”

  “Yes, I know,” she agreed. And as she watched, he unzipped the duffel bag and tucked a pouch inside. “Go!” he ordered. “Go now, and don’t look back! I’ll join you later, just the way we planned.”

  He helped her climb out onto the fire escape, gave her a quick kiss, and shut the window again, clicking the latch. Then he sat down in her desk chair and she knew she had no choice but to follow the plan they’d made together.

  Her heart pounding in her throat, she hurried down the metal steps of the fire escape, holding the duffel bag and counting the floors as she went. When she reached the second floor, she pushed up on the window that he’d unlocked for her. One quick glance and she stepped in, a bit unwieldly as the baby kicked again, objecting to her sudden, panicked movement. She shut and locked the window behind her and told herself that it was going to be all right, that he’d be joining her in no time at all.

  Cautiously, she peeked around the corner. No one was in the hallway. Heart beating rapidly in her chest, she hurried toward the stairs. Her legs were shaking slightly as she climbed down to the first floor, walked through the deserted hallway to the side door of the building, and opened it. One quick glance told her that there was no one on the street, no one at all. Had Tony panicked needlessly? But he wouldn’t have done that. He was too well trained. This was a real emergency and she had to trust him for their baby’s sake.

  A moment later, she was out on the sidewalk, heading for the corner. She rounded it and walked as rapidly as she could without attracting notice until she reached the post office. She was just entering the building, when she heard several cars screech around the corner she had left only moments before.

  Hands shaking slightly, she handed her package to the window clerk, verified that the postage she’d prepaid was correct, and stepped aside to watch her package disappear down the conveyer belt to the sorting facility.

  A city bus was just pulling up as she exited the post office. She boarded it, sat in an inside seat as far away from the windows as she could get, and breathed a sigh of relief when the bus pulled out into traffic. It was only after she’d ridden for over twenty minutes that she realized the bus was headed for Brooklyn, a place she’d never been before.

  * * *

  “I’m on the edge of my chair!” Delores said breathlessly when Hannah stopped reading.

  “Me too!” Michelle echoed her mother’s sentiment. When Delores had told them about the notebooks and mentioned that Hannah was going to read them to her. Of course Michelle and Lisa had begged to listen, and Delores and Hannah had agreed.

  “It’s scary and exciting at the same time,” Lisa offered her opinion. “Essie’s really a good writer.”

  “How many notebooks are there, Hannah?” Delores asked.

  “Nine, but I only got about a third of the way through this one. I can’t read too much at a sitting because my eyes begin to hurt. The ink is fading badly on some pages, and to add to that problem, Essie used paper that absorbed the ink. Since she wrote on both sides of the pages, it’s bleeding through in spots.”

  “It’s too bad Essie didn’t use a ball point pen when she wrote it,” Lisa said. “The ink never fades with ballpoint pens.”

  “How do you know that?” Michelle asked her.

  “I got some ink from my ballpoint pen on my yellow blouse. I tried everything I could think of to get it out.”

  “Did you find anything that worked?” Delores asked her.

  “No, I had to hide the ink by wearing the blouse with a sweater. And when the blouse wore out, there was still an ink stain on the pocket.”

  “Would you like some coffee, Hannah?” Delores asked her. “It’s only seven-thirty and I think coffee would perk me up.”

  “Coffee would be good. I’ll go make some. And is there any dessert left? That Apple Crisp that Michelle made was really good.”

  “There’s almost half a pan left, Hannah,” Michelle told her. “I stuck it in the refrigerator. You make the coffee and I’ll warm the Apple Crisp a little.”

  “And I’ll bring Hannah a cold cloth to put on her eyes,” Lisa announced. “And then, just as soon as the Apple Crisp is warm, I’ll top everybody’s slice with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.”

  “How about you, dear?” Delores asked Hannah. “Would you like Apple Crisp with ice cream? Or do your eyes hurt too much for a second helping of dessert?”

  Hannah gave a little laugh. “You should know me better than that, Mother. Nothing could ever affect my appetite for dessert, especially if it’s as good as the Apple Crisp.”

  “The dessert buffet!” Delores exclaimed, startling all three of them.

  “What dessert buffet?” Hannah asked her.

  “The one Essie told us about today. She said that they had champagne and a wonderful dessert buffet at the first Christmas Ball, and she just wished that she could remember all the desserts that were there.”

  “I wonder if there’s a photo,” Hannah said, looking thoughtful. “How long ago do you think they held the Christmas Ball?”

  “I’m not sure,” answered. You’ll have to ask one of the older people in town.”

  Somehow, Hannah managed to keep the smile off her face. She doubted that Delores was more than ten years younger than Essie, and perhaps not even that much.

  “Why did you want to know the year, Hannah?” Delores asked.

  “I was wondering if there might be photographs of the ball in the archives at the newspaper office. Rod has copies dating back a long time ago, when his father was the editor.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea, dear!” Delores said, looking pleased. “I’m afraid I don’t remember the ball at all because I was in grade school at the time. There could be photos, or a detailed article. It was a huge event in Lake Eden. And that does give me a marvelous idea, dear.”

  Delores stopped speaking and Hannah knew that she was waiting for a dose of breathless prompting to share her idea. “”Please tell us your idea, Mother.”

  “Based on how much help Michelle and Lisa were to you when you prepared dinner . . .” Delores turned to them, “Would you girls like to go with me to visit Essie at the hospital?”

  “I’ll go,” Lisa agreed quickly. “Mother’s in the hospice ward and sometimes I visit her after school. One of my teachers has a friend in the hospital and she gives me a ride there.”

  “I’ll go, too,” Michelle offered. “I’ve gone with Lisa to visit her mother a couple of times and there was always someone there who offered us a ride back to town. There’s no reason why we can’t go out to visit Lisa’s mother and then meet you at Essie’s room.”

  “Good! I’d like you girls to take notes when Essie describes the Christmas Ball. Grandma Knudson and Annie will meet us there, too. And if you girls aren’t too busy, I’m hoping that you’ll help Hannah bake for the Christmas Buffet.”

  “When will that be?” Lisa asked.

  “Two weeks before Christmas, before everyone gets caught up in their own round of holiday baking and parties and entertaining.”

  “I’ll help Hannah,” Michelle agreed quickly. “The junior play isn’t until the middle of January and they always suspend rehearsals during the holidays.”

  “I’ll help, too, if Hannah wants us,” Lisa agreed. “I love to bake and it’ll be fun.”

&
nbsp; Hannah, who had been surprised at the news that Delores expected her to bake enough cookies, pies, cakes, and other sweet treats to fill an entire dessert buffet, felt a wave of relief wash over her. “I’d love it if you two would help me,” she said quickly. “The baking will go a lot faster that way.” She turned to Delores. “Please tell me what you remember about the buffet.”

  “Of course I didn’t see it myself, but I do know that Essie was very impressed with the buffet and all the decorations. She told Grandma Knudson, Annie, and I that the grand celebration at the end was simply amazing.”

  “Tell us about it,” Michelle urged, and Hannah gave her an approving look. Michelle had anticipated the question that she would have asked.

  “As I told you before, I wasn’t actually there, but everyone in Lake Eden was talking about it the next day. Everyone there was very impressed with the Christmas Cake Parade.”

  “What’s a Christmas cake parade?” Lisa asked her.

  “They turned off the lights in the ballroom and the waiters walked in with cakes that the Albion kitchen staff had baked for the occasion. Essie said one was shaped like a large Christmas tree, others were in various Christmas shapes and colors, and one had circles of glazed fruit on the top in red and green.”

  Lisa looked puzzled. “Cherries are red, but which fruit is green?”

  “I really don’t know, dear. I wasn’t there, remember?”

  “It could have been slices of melon,” Hannah suggested. “Honeydew melon is green. Or perhaps it was kiwi if people used it back then.”

  “Whatever.” Delores dismissed the speculation and turned to Hannah. “I was hoping that you girls could do a Christmas Cake Parade for Essie. She would love it so!”

  “There’s no way we can bake all those cakes on the day of the Christmas Ball,” Hannah told her, “unless . . .”

  “Unless what?” Delores, Lisa, and Michelle asked, almost simultaneously.

  “Unless Mother will buy a big chest freezer and hook it up in the garage. Then we can start baking the cakes, wrap them and freeze them, and frost them on the day of the ball.”

  “I’ll be glad to buy a large chest freezer,” Delores said quickly. “It’s a double garage and there are several electrical outlets. Since I’m using only one space for my car, we could put the chest freezer on the other side of the garage.”

  “Then I think we have a plan that’ll work,” Hannah said with a smile. “Let’s all go out to look at the garage right now. We can figure out where we should put the freezer.”

  “Could we delay that for a few minutes?” Delores asked.

  “Of course,” Hannah agreed quickly. “Why don’t you want to do it right away?”

  “Because I keep thinking about that Apple Crisp and how good it was. I ate so much at dinner, I didn’t think I could eat any more today, but I was wrong and I’m actually hungry for a second helping.”

  HONEY APPLE CRISP

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

  Graham crackers to line the baking pan

  8 to 9 cups thinly sliced apples (I used a combination of Granny Smith and Gala, peeled, cored, and sliced as thin as a quarter.)

  1 Tablespoon lemon juice

  ½ cup white (granulated) sugar

  ½ teaspoon cinnamon

  ¼ teaspoon nutmeg

  ¼ teaspoon cardamom

  1 cup honey (I used orange honey, but clover is also good—spray inside of measuring cup with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray to keep the honey from sticking to the inside of the cup.)

  ½ cup brown sugar (Pack it down when you measure it.)

  1 cup all-purpose flour (Pack it down when you measure it.)

  ½ teaspoon salt

  ½ cup (1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound) salted butter

  Prepare a 9-inch by 13-inch baking pan by spraying the inside with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray, or buttering it. Line the bottom with graham crackers.

  Spread the apple slices over the bottom of a baking dish.

  Sprinkle the apples with the lemon juice.

  Mix the white sugar with the cinnamon, nutmeg, and cardamom.

  Sprinkle on the white granulated sugar mixture.

  Drizzle the honey over the top of the apples as evenly as possible.

  In a separate bowl, mix the brown sugar with the flour and the salt.

  Melt the butter in a microwave-safe bowl or measuring cup for 30 seconds on HIGH. Leave it in the microwave for an additional minute and then check it to see if it’s melted. If it’s not, heat it on HIGH for increments of 20 seconds, followed by 20-second standing times until it is.

  Michelle’s Note: You can also melt the butter over LOW heat on the stovetop if you prefer, but stir it constantly and be careful not to brown it.

  Let the butter cool on a cold burner or a towel on the counter for 5 minutes and then pour it over the brown sugar, flour, and salt mixture in your bowl.

  Use your impeccably clean hands to mix everything together until the mixture resembles coarse gravel.

  Sprinkle the mixture over the top of your pan as evenly as possible.

  Bake your Honey Apple Crisp at 350 degrees F. for 50 minutes, or until the apples are tender. You can test for tenderness by sticking a fork into the center of the baking pan. If you encounter resistance from the apple slices, bake it for another 10 minutes and then test again. When your fork goes all the way to the bottom of the pan and the crust on top is a deep golden brown, your Honey Apple Crisp is done.

  Honey Apple Crisp is wonderful served either warm or cold. Serve in dessert dishes.

  If you’d like to dress up your Honey Apple Crisp a bit, top each dessert bowl with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or a generous dollop of sweetened whipped cream.

  Yield: Serves at least 12 unless everyone at the table wants more.

  Chapter Five

  Hannah opened the door to the small building that housed their local paper and was immediately grateful that the printing press wasn’t running. At least she’d be able to talk to Rod today. When she’d mentioned how loud the old printing press was, he’d pointed to the ancient linotype machine against the back wall of the main room. He told her that the press was fairly quiet compared to the clatter of the linotype machine, and he knew because he’d worked here as a teenager. He’d said that it had been a true cacophony when both machines had been running at the same time.

  She had asked Rod how the linotype machine worked and he’d told her that one of his earliest memories was watching his mother, sitting on the stool in front of the mammoth machine, her fingers flying over the keyboard to make the molten metal type. Each piece that came out of the machine was stamped with an uppercase or lowercase letter that dropped down to cool in the metal type case that would be locked in a frame that printed the newspaper. Rod had bragged that his mother could proofread the lines of type in the frame even though they were upside down and backward.

  “Hi, Hannah,” Rod said, coming into the main room. “What can I do for you today?”

  “I’m helping Mother with some things and I have a couple of questions for you.”

  “All right,” Rod said, pointing to the chair in front of his desk.

  Hannah sat down and drew a deep breath. “First of all, did you know that Essie was in the hospice ward at the hospital?”

  “Yes, Doc Knight told me. He said that Essie didn’t have electricity or plumbing in those two rooms of hers at the hotel, and she’d fallen down the stairs trying to get to the café to use the bathroom there.”

  “Did he tell you that Essie wasn’t terminal?”

  “He did. Doc said he’s keeping her on hospice because she broke her hip and there’s no way she can manage on her own again until it heals.”

  “That’s what Grandma Knudson and Annie Winters told us yesterday. They stopped by the house after they visited Essie in the hospital and Essie described the first Christmas Ball that was held at the Albion Hotel. She said that was truly wonderful, an
d it was the night she’d met her husband.”

  “It’s all true,” Rod said. “The Albion was beautiful when it was new, and the second floor ballroom was magnificent. I wish you could have seen it. It’s really too bad the highway department decided to change their plans for the Interstate. It would have made all the difference in the world to Alton and Essie.”

  “What do you mean?” Hannah asked him.

  “The Interstate was supposed to run right past Lake Eden where the old highway is now. That’s the reason why Alton built the Albion Hotel here. Everyone back then thought that Lake Eden would grow by leaps and bounds, that new businesses and industries would be built here. They thought we would become a big city instead of a small town. And that meant we’d need a nice hotel.”

  Hannah had never heard this story before and she was intrigued. “But that didn’t happen?”

  “No. I remember my father saying that there must have been some crooked dealing going on to move the highway project to another town, but no one was ever able to prove it.”

  “Poor Alton!” Hannah said. “And poor Essie, too.”

  Rod nodded. “It was a bad stroke of luck for them. They managed to keep the hotel going for a while, but the odds were against them even though people in Lake Eden loved that hotel. They operated it at a reduced capacity for a decade or two, but it was a losing battle. Lake Eden simply didn’t get enough visitors to stay there and keep it open.”

  “I don’t remember Alton at all,” Hannah told him.

  “You wouldn’t. He died when you were quite young. The hotel was still partially open then, and Essie and Alton did a lot of the work themselves. The Red Velvet Lounge was still making a profit on their lunches and the bar was a popular spot at night. Essie supervised the hotel staff, and Alton set up a dance floor in the lobby with live music. That and the appetizers Essie served at the bar pulled in some revenue. And even though they were working long days, Essie still held her Saturday story-time for the kids.”