Strawberry Shortcake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  Just after the party had started, Mr. Hart had announced that he planned to make Lake Eden the permanent site of the Hartland Flour Dessert Bake-Off. Now he was sitting with Mayor Bascomb and Rod Metcalf at the far end of the bar, and Hannah suspected that they were talking about how to make the most out of the publicity.

  Claire Rodgers was at a table with Reverend Knudson and his grandmother. Hannah had pulled her aside, before the party had started and given her an envelope with Lucy’s incriminating photos and negatives. Neither the reverend nor Priscilla was known for scintillating conversation. Perhaps Claire was doing penance for past misdeeds. But she looked happier than she’d looked in months, and Hannah suspected that she’d broken it off with the mayor.

  Mr. and Mrs. Avery were sitting with a crowd of other bake-off contestants. Hannah had returned the money, along with Lucy’s prints and negatives, to them. Mrs. Avery had told her that they were donating the cash to charity, and Mr. Avery hadn’t objected. As Hannah watched, Mrs. Avery reached out to pat her husband’s hand. Apparently, all had been forgiven, but Hannah was willing to bet that Mr. Avery wouldn’t make a mistake like that again.

  Danielle was still in the hospital. Hannah had dropped by to see her on the way to the party and together, they’d torn Lucy’s evidence into pieces and flushed them away. No one would ever know about Boyd’s problem unless Danielle chose to talk. Hannah didn’t think that she would. Boyd’s students still idolized him, and it was a shameful thing that was better kept secret.

  Hannah was sitting alone at a four-person table. Mike and Norman had gone back for seconds from the huge buffet that Sally had put out for the guests. She picked up one of the bar cookies she’d baked in Sally’s kitchen to celebrate the fact that Mason Kimball was behind bars, and tasted it. It was a recipe she’d just perfected, and she’d named her creation Chocolate Highlander Cookie Bars. The bars had a shortbread crust with a creamy, dark chocolate topping, and they were so delicious, Hannah decided to add them to her menu at The Cookie Jar.

  Norman and Mike were laughing as they helped themselves to Sally’s Lasagna Verde, and Hannah smiled as she watched them. They were a study in contrasts. Mike was so handsome, he could have played the lead in any romantic movie. Norman wasn’t. His appeal didn’t come from the outside, but Hannah found his solid stockiness and his receding hairline endearing. While Mike was so sexy her stomach went thump, Norman was safe and comforting, like a favorite teddy bear. If she were a magician and she knew how to combine the two of them into one perfect man, she’d take her mother’s advice and get married tonight.

  “Hi, Hannah.” Lisa walked past Hannah’s table, carrying an empty dessert plate. “Dad and Mrs. Beeseman asked me to get some more of your bars, but they’re all gone.”

  “There’s a second pan in the kitchen. Just go help yourself.”

  Lisa headed for the kitchen, and Hannah took another sip of her wine. Mike had ordered it especially for her as a way of saying thank you for helping them solve the murder case. Hannah knew it was a good vintage and very expensive, but she still preferred her green gallon jug.

  Herb came over to her table, looking distracted. “Where’s Lisa? Her dad just asked my mother to dance, and she won’t want to miss it.”

  “She’ll be back any minute. She just ducked into the kitchen to get more bars.” Hannah grabbed his arm so he couldn’t leave. “Sit down for a second, Herb. I need to ask you a favor.” Hannah waited until he’d taken the chair next to her, then leaned close, so she wouldn’t be overheard. “Do you still go to those cowboy weekends, Herb? The ones where they have shooting competitions?”

  “Every chance I get. Why?”

  “I need to learn about handguns. Do you think you could teach me?”

  “No problem. My shooting club has a range. I’ll take you out there some Sunday. Are you planning to buy a handgun for home protection?”

  “Not exactly.” Hannah glanced around, but no one was listening. “Did Lisa tell you about how I pinned Mason down with his gun?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s like this, Herb. I know how to shoot a shotgun. My dad taught me. But this wasn’t a shotgun and I…uh…”

  “You didn’t know how to use it?” Herb interrupted her with a guess.

  “That’s right. Of course I knew where the trigger was. Any fool would know that. But I wasn’t sure if I had to do anything first, before it would fire.”

  “I’ll bring out my collection of handguns and teach you how to use them. Once you know the basics, you’ll be fine. I taught Lisa, and she took second place in our last cowboy shoot.”

  “Good for her.” Hannah started to smile. It seemed Lisa had talents that she didn’t even know about.

  After Herb had left, Norman came back to the table. They were sitting there talking about the computer program he’d just installed so that they could design their house for the contest, when Mike came back.

  “Hi, Mike.” Hannah gave him a smile, then she turned back to Norman, to answer his question. “I don’t think we can get along with less than three bathrooms. We’ll need one that’s a part of the master suite, one between the kids’ rooms upstairs, and one downstairs for the guests.”

  “How about one in the basement, next to the recreation room? We could put it in under the stairs.”

  “Good idea,” Hannah agreed, and then she happened to glance at Mike. He was staring at her in shock. “What is it, Mike?”

  “You and Norman are buying a house together?”

  “No, we’re designing a house together,” Norman corrected him. And then he clamped his lips shut and didn’t say another word.

  Hannah stared from one to the other, reading the expressions on their faces. There was a gleam of triumph in Norman’s eyes. He was enjoying the fact that Mike was sweating. And Mike looked a little like the rancher who’d come out to his stable in the middle of the night to find a horse thief leading off his best mare.

  Hannah knew she should explain before the situation could worsen, but she’d had an exhausting day. She’d almost been killed, and the fact that Norman’s and Mike’s collective noses had been pushed out of joint seemed rather unimportant in the giant scheme of things.

  “Is there something you want to tell me, Norman?” Mike asked in a belligerent tone.

  “No. Is there something you’d like to tell me, Mike?”

  Hannah didn’t stick around for the answer. Andrea would know exactly what to do in a situation like this, but Hannah decided she’d had it with jealous men. She pushed back her chair, rose to her full height, and faced them both. “I have to leave. I’ve got someone at home, warming up my bed for me.”

  Mike stared at her in astonishment, and Norman looked equally shocked. For a moment, neither of them spoke, and Hannah had an almost-uncontrollable urge to laugh.

  “Who?” Norman asked, breaking the silence. He looked extremely upset.

  “Yeah, who?” Mike echoed his question, and Hannah noticed that he didn’t exactly look happy either.

  Hannah thought about the old childhood taunt, That’s for me to know and you to find out, but she didn’t repeat it. Just because she’d reduced them to junior-high level didn’t mean that she had to reply in kind. She merely smiled sweetly and turned to walk away, but her conscience prodded her before she could take more than a step. She turned back and grinned. “Moishe. Who did you think I meant?”

  And then she walked across the floor toward the door, making an exit that was almost worthy of her screen idol, Katharine Hepburn.

  Chocolate Highlander Cookie Bars

  Preheat oven to 350° F.,

  rack in middle position.

  1 cup softened butter (2 sticks, ½ pound)

  ½ cup powdered sugar (make sure there’s no big lumps)

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  2 cups flour (no need to sift)

  4 beaten eggs (just whip them up with a fork)

  1 cup melted butter, cooled to room temp. (2 sticks, ½ pound)


  1 cup white sugar

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  ½ cup flour (don’t bother to sift)

  2 ½ cups chocolate chips (measure BEFORE they’re melted)

  1/3 cup powdered (confectioner’s) sugar to sprinkle on top of the pan

  FIRST STEP: Cream butter with ½ cup powdered sugar and salt. Add flour and mix well. Pat it out in a greased 9-inch by-13-inch pan with your fingers. (That’s a standard cake pan.)

  Bake at 350 degrees F. for 15 minutes. That makes the shortbread crust. Remove from oven. (Don’t turn off oven!)

  SECOND STEP: Mix eggs with melted butter and white sugar. Add baking powder, salt, and flour, and mix thoroughly. (A hand mixer will do the job if you’re tired of stirring.)

  Melt the chocolate chips in a small double boiler, a pan over hot water on the stove, or nuke them for 3 minutes in the microwave on high. (Be sure to stir—chips may maintain their shape even after they’re melted.)

  Add the melted chocolate chips to your bowl and mix thoroughly.

  Pour this mixture on top of the pan you just baked and tip the pan so it covers all of the shortbread crust. Stick it back into the oven and bake it for another 25 minutes. Then remove it from the oven and sprinkle on additional powdered sugar.

  Let it cool thoroughly and cut into brownie-sized bars. You can refrigerate these, but cut them before you do. (They’re pretty solid when they’re cold.)

  Andrea said these were so rich, no one could eat more than one. (I watched her eat three at the wrap party.)

  Index of Recipes

  Strawberry Shortcake Swensen

  Apricot Bread Pudding

  Oatmeal Raisin Crisps

  Cocoa Snaps

  Hawaiian Flan

  Molasses Crackles

  Chocolate Highlander Cookie Bars

  Please turn the page for

  an exciting sneak peek at Joanne Fluke’s

  newest Hannah Swensen mystery:

  BLUEBERRY MUFFIN MURDER

  Now on sale wherever hardcover mysteries are sold!

  Hannah’s headlights cut two converging tunnels through the darkness to illuminate the stop sign at the corner of Main Street and First Avenue. She was early, an hour ahead of her normal schedule, but she felt good about giving Lisa the morning off.

  Nothing was moving as Hannah drove through the silent business district of Lake Eden. Norman’s dental clinic was locked up tight, Hal & Rose’s Café was dark, and there was only a dim security light shining through the front plate glass window of the Lake Eden Neighborhood Pharmacy. The town was still slumbering, but Hannah was alert and ready to go to work. This was the opening day of the Winter Carnival, and the cookies they’d baked yesterday wouldn’t last through the day. She had to bake more and deliver them to the warm-up tents.

  Instead of driving down the front of her block, Hannah turned into the alley and passed the back of Claire Rodger’s dress shop, her neighbor to the north. Claire had mentioned that she planned to open Beau Monde Fashions early this morning, but early for Claire was a whole lot later than early for Hannah. No one would want to buy designer dresses or Winter Carnival wear at five-thirty in the morning.

  Hannah frowned as she turned into The Cookie Jar parking lot, and her headlights flashed across the rear of the building. The back door of her shop was slightly ajar.

  The fact that her door was unlocked didn’t set off warning bells in Hannah’s mind. Everyone in Lake Eden knew that she emptied the cash register before she went home, and there wasn’t much else to steal. If some homeless person had jimmied the back door to secure a warm place to sleep, Hannah couldn’t really blame him. It had been a bitterly cold night. She’d just give the unfortunate soul a hot cup of coffee and a bag of cookies and send him on his way.

  Hannah parked in her usual spot, plugged her extension cord into the strip of outlets on the white stucco wall, and walked closer to examine her door from the outside. The lock was intact and the door showed no sign of pry marks. Janie had simply forgotten to lock it when she left with Connie Mac. Thanking her lucky stars that the gusty winds hadn’t torn her door off its hinges and caused a massive jump in her heating bill, Hannah pushed it open and flicked on the lights.

  At first glance, her startled mind refused to believe what was right in front of her eyes. Then her mouth opened in a soundless gasp of shock. A bag of cake flour was on the floor, its contents scattered over the tiles like super-fine snow. Stainless steel mixing bowls filled with dried cake batter covered every inch of the work island, and sticky spoons and spatulas stood up inside them like miniature flagpoles. Several cartons of eggshells and dirty utensils were piled on the counter near the sink, and next to them was Hannah’s industrial mixer with cake batter glued to its beaters.

  Hannah fumed as she surveyed her usually immaculate kitchen. Janie never would have left this incredible mess. She must have gone back to the inn early, and Connie Mac just hadn’t bothered to clean up before she left.

  Uttering a string of expletives that would have made her mother run for the soap, Hannah stepped inside. It would take her at least an hour to clean her kitchen, and she didn’t have any time to waste. She had just started to wipe off the counters when she realized that there was a sickeningly sweet, charcoal-laden smell in the air. Something was burning!

  Hannah raced to her oven, opened the door, and jumped back as a cloud of black smoke rolled out. Through the smoke, she could see several charred, smoldering lumps that had once been layers for the official Winter Carnival cake.

  With lightning speed Hannah turned off the gas and hurried to her second oven. Smoke was beginning to leak out the door, and she didn’t have to look to know that there were similar lumps inside. She turned it off, ran to the windows to yank them open, and flicked the exhaust fan on high. Coughing slightly from the smoke and the exertion, she ran out the back door and propped it wide open behind her.

  Hannah was livid as she paced back and forth in the parking lot, kicking up snow with the toes of her boots and waiting for the smoke to clear. Connie Mac had waltzed out of The Cookie Jar with cakes in the ovens, and if Hannah hadn’t come to work early, The Cookie Jar might have burned to the ground!

  After ten minutes of pacing and fuming, Hannah approached the doorway and took a tentative sniff. There was still a trace of smoke in the air, but it no longer made her eyes water. She stomped into her kitchen with a scowl on her face and headed straight for the sink. There was no time to waste. She had to clean up the mess and begin mixing her cookie dough for the day.

  Hannah swept the egg cartons and shells into the nearly overflowing trash can and turned on the hot water to fill the sink with soapy water. Once she’d set the dirty dishes to soak, she carried out the trash and lined the can with a new plastic bag. She was gathering up her cake-batter-encrusted mixing bowls from the work island, preparing to move them to the counter by the sink, when she noticed something that made her stop cold.

  Connie Mac’s leather handbag was sitting on top of a stool. She must have forgotten it, unless…Hannah swiveled around with a frown on her face. Connie Mac’s sable coat was still hanging on a hook by the back door. It had dropped down below zero last night. Connie Mac must have been in a real rush to leave if she hadn’t taken the time to grab her coat.

  Suddenly, the pieces clicked into place, and Hannah glanced around her uneasily. Janie had left early. That much was obvious. Her car was gone, and so was her coat and purse. Connie Mac had been here alone, and someone or something had frightened her away.

  A glimmer of light caught Hannah’s eye. The pantry door was open a few inches and someone had turned on the light. Hannah grabbed the first weapon she could find, the heavy pot she used to make boiled frostings. If the person who’d frightened Connie Mac away was hiding in her pantry, she’d get in a few good licks before she turned him over to the sheriff!

  Once she had moved silently into position, Hannah inched the door open with her foot. She gl
anced inside, and what she saw caused the pot to slip from her nerveless fingers. Her earlier assumption was wrong. Connie Mac hadn’t left last night.

  The Cooking Sweetheart was facedown on the pantry floor, her arms and legs sprawled out like a kid who’d hit the surface of Eden Lake in an ungainly belly dive. She had been struck down by a massive blow to the head in the act of sampling one of Hannah’s Blue Blueberry Muffins.

  Shock rendered Hannah immobile for a moment, but then she knelt down to feel for a pulse. The biggest celebrity ever to set foot in Lake Eden would never star in another episode of her television show or pose for pictures in her magazine. Connie Mac was dead.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Like Hannah Swensen, Joanne Fluke was born and raised in a small town in rural Minnesota but now lives in sunny Southern California. BLUEBERRY MUFFIN MURDER is her third Hannah Swensen mystery. She is currently working on the fourth, which will be published in 2003. Readers are welcome to contact Joanne at the following E-mail address: Gr8Clues@aol.com.

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  850 Third Avenue

  New York, NY 10022

  Copyright © 2001 by Joanne Fluke

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.