Cream Puff Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “The oven!” Hannah exclaimed, getting up so swiftly she dislodged Moishe. She must have fallen asleep, and her oven timer was beeping. She rushed to the kitchen, opened the oven door, and gave a sigh of relief as she pulled her pan of Candy Bar Bar Cookies out of the oven. They weren’t too brown on top. Everything was just fine.

  She’d just replaced her oven mitts on the hook next to the stove when the doorbell rang. A glance at the apple-shaped clock on the wall over the kitchen table showed six forty-five. It was a good thing she’d set the table earlier. Company was here, and she’d gotten up from her nap just in time!

  CANDY BAR BAR COOKIES

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

  1 cup softened butter (2 sticks, 1/2 pound)

  3/4 cup white (granulated) sugar

  1 beaten egg (just whip it up in a glass with a fork)

  2 teaspoons vanilla extract

  1/2 teaspoon salt

  21/2 cups flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

  5 three-ounce chocolate candy bars (I used Nestle Milk Chocolate)***

  1/4 cup white (granulated) sugar

  Prepare a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan by lining it with a piece of foil large enough to flap over the sides. Spray the foil-lined pan with Pam or other nonstick cooking spray.

  Mix the butter and the sugar together in a bowl. Continue to stir until the mixture is light and creamy.

  Add the egg, and stir it in thoroughly. Mix in the vanilla extract and the salt.

  Add the flour in half-cup increments, mixing after each addition. The dough will “ball up” like piecrust, and that’s fine.

  Pat half of the dough into the bottom of your prepared pan. Smooth it out with your impeccably clean fingers.

  Unwrap the candy bars and place them on top of the dough. (Make 2 rows with 2 candy bars in each row. Break the fifth candy bar in half lengthwise, and use it to fill in the ends of the rows.)

  Pat the remaining dough on top of the candy bars, distributing it as evenly as you can.

  Use the back of a table fork to make cross-hatches on the top of the dough, the way you’d do with a peanut butter cookie. The little grooves the fork makes will hold the sugar.

  Sprinkle the quarter-cup sugar over the top of your pan as evenly as possible.

  Bake at 350 degrees F. for 25 minutes. The bars should be slightly brown around the edges and still quite white on top.

  Cool the Candy Bar Bar Cookies in the pan on a metal rack. Feel the bottom of the pan. When you can comfortably place your hand against the bottom and it’s not too hot to hold, grasp the foil and lift the bars out of the pan. Cut them into brownie-sized pieces while they’re still warm.

  Place the squares on a plate and serve. Everyone will love these a bit warm from the oven, but they’ll also love them cold. 161

  Chapter Fifteen

  She made the attempt, but after ten minutes of hoping that it might get better, Hannah put down her chopsticks. Chinese chicken salad with low-cal ranch dressing just wasn’t very good. She should have made her own with raspberry vinegar, a little olive oil, and a good sugar substitute. To disguise the fact that she wasn’t eating, she alternated between moving bean sprouts around on her plate and taking notes in the brand-new shorthand notebook she’d started for Ronni’s murder.

  “What’s wrong with Moishe?” Andrea asked as Moishe gave a howl from the kitchen.

  “I don’t know. I filled his Kitty Valet when I got home, so I know he’s got plenty of food and water.”

  “Rowwwww!” Another yowl hit their ears, louder and more prolonged than the first.

  “Something’s bothering him,” Norman said, getting up from his seat on the couch. “He sounded really upset. I’ll go see what’s wrong.”

  Michelle leaned close to Hannah. “Norman loves him,” she said.

  “Norman loves Hannah,” Andrea said, correcting their younger sister.

  “Where’s the yardstick, Hannah?” Norman called out, poking his head around the corner of the kitchen doorway.

  “It’s either next to the stove, or leaning up against the side of the counter by the window,” Hannah told him. “Did Moishe lose his duck’s foot again?”

  “Yes. It’s in that little space between the broom closet and the refrigerator.”

  “Good luck fishing it out. Sometimes it goes under the refrigerator and I lose it.”

  “I’ll get it. Never fear. Moishe’s directing the whole operation for me.”

  All three sisters laughed. And all three were tempted to get up and go into the kitchen to watch. But they didn’t. They just sat there relaxing while Norman took care of the duck’s foot.

  “If it slips under the refrigerator, do you have to move it to get out the duck’s foot?” Michelle asked.

  “Yes, and I don’t. There’s a really short tube running to the icemaker and if it breaks, it’s a big plumbing bill. I just leave the duck’s foot there and hope for the best.”

  “But doesn’t it smell?” Andrea wrinkled up her nose.

  “No. I think maybe it’s because there’s not much meat on a duck’s foot.”

  “Has Moishe lost more than one under there?” Michelle asked.

  “Oh, yes. He gets one every time I have takeout Chinese food and that’s a couple of times a month. There must be at least a dozen under there, maybe more.”

  “Success,” Norman reported, coming back into the living room holding a slightly grungier duck’s foot. “You’ve got a loose board back there, Hannah.”

  “Okay. I’ll have someone take care of it.”

  “I can help you with it one of these days,” Norman offered, handing her the duck’s foot. “I rinsed off the foot and dried it on a paper towel.”

  “Thanks,” Hannah told him, accepting the webbed prize. “Here you go, Moishe.” She turned to her cat and wiggled the duck’s foot for him to see. “Follow the flying foot!”

  The moment the avian appendage left Hannah’s hand, Moishe was off and running down the hall to chase it. There was a thump as he pounced and then a smothered yowl of triumph as he chomped down on it.

  “Back to business,” Hannah said, waiting until Norman had resumed his seat. “So what’s Lonnie’s problem, Michelle? I’m assuming he doesn’t have an alibi.”

  “That’s right. He told me he went out to Heavenly Bodies after his shift to cancel their movie date. Her birthday party had already started, and she was drinking.”

  “Drinking?” Norman asked, picking up on the part of the story that Hannah was about to query.

  “Yes, from a martini glass. Lonnie said it was a Green-teani. They carry diet green tea in the Snack Shack. You mix it with vodka and serve it over ice in a martini glass.”

  “But there’s no alcohol allowed on the premises,” Andrea said. “It’s in the rules. Is Lonnie sure she had vodka?”

  “That’s what he said. And he also said he was pretty sure it wasn’t her first Green-teani of the night.”

  “She shouldn’t have brought in vodka.” Andrea still sounded shocked. “I’m sure that’s grounds for dismissal and…”

  “Never mind that now,” Hannah told her. “The important thing is that she was drinking and Lonnie was there.” She turned to Michelle. “What did he say happened next?”

  “They moved the party to the gazebo, and Lonnie went along. That’s where he told her he needed to cancel their date for Friday night. And she said, ‘Oh, do you have to work a late shift?’ Lonnie didn’t want to lie to her, so he told her that he just didn’t feel right going out with another woman when he was in love with me.”

  “What did she say to that?” Norman asked.

  “Plenty, but Lonnie didn’t go into details. He just said that she insulted me and he said something back, and then she said something back, and before he knew it they were shouting at each other. He knew he had to leave, but he was so mad, he knocked over a couple of stools on his way out of there.”

  Hannah thought back
to the crime scene. The stools had been made from anodized aluminum, and they had a smooth mirrored surface. “So the crime scene techs might find his fingerprints on the stools?” she guessed.

  “That’s right. That’s why he needs you to catch the killer. Since the camera wasn’t working and nobody actually saw him leave, it’s the only way to prove he didn’t hide out somewhere and kill Ronni when everyone else left. He’s in big trouble, Hannah. He told me what he wants me to do, and I promised him I’d help.”

  Hannah nodded. She could understand that. But then a terrible suspicion dawned. “Wait. Don’t tell me Lonnie wants to tell me how to run the investigation.”

  “Well…not exactly. He just wants to make suggestions. He says that Bill is taking a hands-off position.” Michelle turned to Andrea. “Is that right?”

  “That’s right. As Ronni’s employer, Bill feels he’s a little too close to the situation to be entirely impartial.”

  Hannah turned to stare at Andrea in awe. It seemed that her sister doubled as a spin doctor. Andrea had spun Bill’s departure from the case in the best possible light.

  “Anyway,” Michelle went on, turning to face Hannah. “With Mike and Rick off the case, Lonnie says there’s nobody left who’s ever run a murder investigation before. That’s why Lonnie wants to give me suggestions for you. Since he can’t take an active part in the investigation, he can’t talk to you directly. He wants me to be his courier and tell you what he says.”

  “Wonderful!” Hannah’s tone was sarcastic. “That makes three people who want me to be their puppet investigator. Doesn’t anyone think I’m capable of catching the killer on my own?”

  Norman moved closer and slipped his arm around Hannah’s shoulder to give her a little hug. “I do. And look on the bright side. Only three people from the sheriff’s department want to give you advice.”

  “You’re right.” Hannah gave a little smile. “I suppose it could have been four.”

  “Uh…actually…” Michelle stopped speaking and sighed. She couldn’t quite meet her sister’s eyes when she continued. “Actually, it’s four. Lonnie’s brother Rick is in on it, too.”

  When the phone rang at the witching hour, Hannah wanted to ignore it. She did her best to pretend that absolutely nothing was amiss. She rolled over, pulled the blankets up to her chin, and attempted to go back to sleep. But of course she couldn’t. She wasn’t the type of person who could ignore a ringing phone at midnight.

  She picked up the phone, held it to her ear, and answered it in a voice groggy with sleep. “’Lo.”

  “Hannah. Wake up, Hannah. I’ve got to see you, and this is the only safe time. Meet me in your garage by the Dumpster in fifteen minutes.”

  “What?”

  “It’s Mike. Wake up! Meet me by your garage Dumpster in fifteen minutes. It’s important.”

  The curtains of sleep began to part and Hannah sat up in bed. “Mike?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got to get off the line now. They could be tracing your calls.”

  Hannah clicked on the lamp on her bed table. Tracing her calls? Surely not! The isolation from his colleagues must be taking its toll in the guise of paranoia.

  There was no way she was going to get dressed to go out at midnight, spend five minutes telling Mike that he was crazy, and then come back upstairs to undress and go back to bed again. She slipped on her robe, the warmest one she owned, and thrust her bare feet into her fleece-lined moccasins.

  Her parka was next. Hannah zipped it up to her chin and pulled a wool ski cap over her ears. At least she’d be warm enough. She was just debating the wisdom of brewing a pot of coffee in the eleven minutes she had left when she heard a soft voice at her elbow.

  “What is it, Hannah?”

  For a moment, Hannah was startled. Then she remembered that Michelle was staying with her. She flicked on the lights and apologized. “I’m sorry if the phone woke you. Everything’s okay. You can go back to bed.”

  “But what is it?”

  “Mike. He wants me to meet him in the garage.”

  Michelle stared at Hannah for a moment. Then she giggled.

  “What?”

  “I guess the bloom’s off the rose if you’re going out to meet Mike like that.”

  Hannah glanced at her reflection in the big mirror that hung on her living room wall. The apparition that stared back at her wasn’t pretty. “I’m not getting dressed for him. He doesn’t deserve it. For all I know he killed Ronni.”

  “You know better than that.”

  Hannah thought about that for a moment. “You’re right. I do. If Mike decided to kill Ronni, he would have figured out a way to do it so it looked like an accident.”

  “Exactly right. Do you want me to package up some bar cookies for him? There’s about a dozen left.”

  “Sure. I’ll put on the coffee and take him a cup. He doesn’t deserve it, but I’ll do it anyway.”

  Once the coffee was ready and the bar cookies were packaged, Hannah zipped up her parka and started down the stairs. Fourteen minutes had elapsed since Mike’s call, and she was right on time. She shivered a bit as a gust of wind threatened to whip the knit cap from her head, and she was glad to reach the underground garage where the absence of wind chill caused the air to feel considerably warmer.

  “Psssst!”

  A shrill hiss greeted her as she approached the Dumpster. Hannah had all she could do not to laugh as Mike stepped out. He was clothed entirely in black and he had a black ski cap on his head, rolled down low to almost cover his eyes.

  “Thanks for coming, Hannah,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I’m just sorry my cloak and dagger were at the cleaners.”

  “Very funny. It’s just that I promised I wouldn’t see you, and I could lose my job over this.”

  Hannah nodded to show she understood and moved a few steps away from the Dumpster. Someone had dined on fish…several days ago. “I brought you some bar cookies and some coffee.”

  “Thanks, Hannah.” Mike accepted the package of bar cookies and the coffee. “That was really nice of you.”

  “You said it was important?”

  “Yes. I just wanted you to know that there was nothing between Ronni and me. I know it looks bad, but there wasn’t.”

  Why did it look bad? Was there something she’d missed? These and several other questions occurred to Hannah. She wanted to ask them, but she didn’t. It was an old interrogation trick she’d learned from him. If you remained silent, a guilty person kept right on talking and trying to explain. The increasingly frantic explanations resulted in inconsistencies. Once the inconsistency is addressed, lies tumble out pell-mell and eventually lead to the truth.

  “She was really upset after she broke up with Wade, you know,” Mike went on. “She needed a friend, a shoulder to cry on. I guess I knew she was using me, but I didn’t mind being helpful.”

  I’ll bet! Hannah said, but not out loud. And she continued to play the waiting game.

  “Maybe I let her depend on me a little too much. I mean, maybe I gave her the wrong idea. She was always calling me to come over for something and I went because…well…we had a lot in common since we both worked for the sheriff’s department and all.”

  Right. Sure. Hannah clamped her lips shut. No way was she going to comment.

  “When I said that about looking bad? I know it’s going to come out that I slept at her place a few nights. We’d be watching a movie or something, and I’d fall asleep on her couch. She never woke me. She’d just go to bed and let me wake up on my own the next morning. That’s all it was. Really.”

  Ah-ha! Now we’re at the crux of it! Hannah’s mind crowed with victory, but her stomach felt a little sick. Hearing the truth could be very unpleasant, especially when it was something you didn’t want to know.

  “I just wanted to get everything straight with you, Hannah. You know how important you are to me.”

  Important enough to tell me that you spent se
veral nights at Ronni’s place? I could stand to be a little less important than that, thank you very much!

  “Hannah? You believe me, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” Hannah said, being entirely truthful. She did believe he’d spent several nights at Ronni’s place. Perhaps that wasn’t precisely what he was asking, but it would have to do for now. “Tell me about Stella Parks,” she said.

  “Stella? Why are you asking about her?”

  The way Mike asked the question made Hannah pause. It was pretty obvious he hadn’t heard about his replacement. “Bill asked the Minneapolis Police Department if he could borrow her to head up Ronni’s murder case.”

  “I didn’t know that. She’s a tough cop, and she happens to be a good detective. Stella took over for me when I left the M.P.D. to come here.”

  “So you think she’ll catch Ronni’s killer?”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t know the people, she doesn’t know the area, and she didn’t know Ronni. She’ll run a tight investigation, but she won’t have the hometown advantage. And she’ll drive my team hard. She’ll want to prove she’s better than I am.”

  “Hannah?” a voice called out from the dim interior of the garage.

  Hannah came close to groaning. It was Clara Hollenbeck, one of her neighbors. Clara’s church groups must have run very late. Hannah turned back to Mike to tell him to vamoose, but he had vanished in the space behind the Dumpster, leaving her to deal with her neighbor. There had to be some way of dealing with Clara…but what on earth could it be?

  “Were you talking to somebody?” Clara asked, walking up to Hannah’s side.

  “Myself. I was talking to myself. I do that when I’m…um…working on a new recipe.”

  “Are you sleepwalking, Hannah? It’s cold out here in the garage, and you’re here in your robe and slippers.”