“Of course not, but . . .”
“Good!” Doc opened Hannah’s door and helped her out. “Come along, Hannah. You need to leave right now, doctor’s orders.”
“Oh, Hannah!” Delores gave a little cry of distress as Doc led Hannah and Lisa into the kitchen.
Here it comes, Hannah thought, taking a deep breath in preparation. Her mother was going to chew her out royally for not only finding another dead body, but actually causing his death. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she said.
“Sorry for what?”
“I promised you I wouldn’t find another dead body.”
“Don’t be silly, dear. I was talking about murder victims. I’m just so glad you’re both all right!”
“So am I, but I feel terrible about hitting that man. I was trying to avoid a branch in the road and I didn’t see him.”
Delores rushed over to give Hannah a hug in spite of her daughter’s drenched clothes and wet hair. “Just remember that it was an accident. You certainly didn’t mean to hit that man. When Doc called me he said it was raining so hard and visibility was so bad, he almost hit your truck.”
“I should have pulled over and stopped,” Hannah said, stating the obvious.
“But you couldn’t,” Lisa reminded her. “You were trying to get around the bend and under the trees so that we wouldn’t be struck by lightning.”
“This is not the time to lay blame,” Delores said, and Hannah recognized the no-nonsense, mother-knows-best tone of voice. “Hannah?” She pointed to the tiny bathroom off the kitchen. “You get straight into that shower and get warm. Then put on dry clothes and come out here.”
“But Lisa should . . .”
“I turned on the oven for Lisa. You know how much heat that puts out. All she has to do is stand in front of it while you shower and dress and then she can do the same.”
Doc walked over to give Delores a hug. “No wedding talk today, Lori. The girls are too upset.”
“I know that. We won’t even mention it.”
“Good. I’ll need you at the hospital later if you’re free. A couple of board members are coming in from Minneapolis and I always behave better if you’re there.”
Hannah was on her way to the tiny bathroom off the kitchen, but she turned in time to see her mother smile. It was a beautiful smile, an appreciative smile that came from the heart. Just seeing the expression on her mother’s face assured her that they’d have a loving marriage.
It didn’t take long for Hannah to shower and dress. She turned the bathroom over to Lisa, who didn’t take more than ten minutes, either, and then they sat down at the workstation with Delores to have a bracing cup of coffee.
“Michelle and I baked something for you while you were gone,” Delores told them.
“You baked?” Hannah felt her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Delores hadn’t baked when they were growing up and, as far as she knew, her mother hadn’t baked since.
“Well . . . I didn’t actually do the baking, but I measured the ingredients.”
“And I’ll bet you did a wonderful job,” Lisa said diplomatically.
“That’s what Michelle said. Of course she had to explain that a stick and a half of butter equaled three-quarters of a cup, but there’s no way I could have known that without softening it up and measuring it.”
“Absolutely right,” Hannah told her, feeling absurdly pleased that her mother had measured ingredients to help Michelle bake for them. “What did you bake?”
“Tio Tito’s Sublime Lime Bars.”
“Who’s Tio Tito?” Lisa asked her.
“He’s the man who makes the vodka that we put in the cookie bars. Tito is his nickname and tio means uncle in Spanish.”
“How did you come up with the name?” Lisa asked her.
“Michelle named them. She took a summer school class in Spanish and she thought it sounded cute.”
“We can’t sell those to minors, Mother,” Hannah reminded her, “not with alcohol in them.”
“Oh, they’re not for sale. They’re for you and Lisa. When Doc called, he told me to run across to the Municipal Liquor Store and buy a bottle of brandy to put in your coffee. But Hank had so many different kinds of brandy, I couldn’t decide. Then I noticed that one bottle had a copper top and it was different from all the rest so I bought that. I didn’t realize that it was vodka and not brandy until I got back here.”
“What made you decide to bake with it instead of pouring it in our coffee?” Lisa asked her.
“It was Michelle’s idea. She remembered the Double Whammy Lemon Cake you made for my last party and she decided to try it in lime cookie bars.”
Hannah smiled at her mother to show she was about to tease her. “They sound wonderful. Are we going to talk about them, or do we actually get to taste them?”
“You get to taste them.” Delores laughed as she reached for the foil-covered plate at the end of the workstation. “Wait just a second. I’m going to get Michelle. She wanted to be here when you tasted them.”
The moment the swinging restaurant-style door between the kitchen and the coffee shop had shut, Hannah reached for the foil-covered plate and pulled off the foil. “They’re pretty.”
“You’re not going to taste one until Michelle gets here, are you?” Lisa sounded worried.
“Nope. It was sweet of them to bake for us and I can wait if you can.”
“I don’t know if I can, or not. They smell really good.”
“Yes, they do! Maybe we could just take a little bit off the bottom and . . . ” Hannah halted in mid-reach as the door swung open and Michelle and Delores came in.
“You didn’t taste them yet, did you?” Delores asked.
Hannah shook her head. “No, but it was close. It’s a good thing you came in when you did.”
A moment later, all four of them were munching on Michelle’s creation. Hannah popped the rest of her bar cookie in her mouth and gave a happy sigh. “Incredibly delicious,” she pronounced.
“Just wonderful!” Lisa added. “Do you think we could make them without the vodka so we could sell them in the coffee shop?”
Michelle looked thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t see why not. There’s one-third cup of vodka in the whole pan of bars. And we used one-third cup of lime juice. I don’t see why you couldn’t use one-third cup of whole milk for the vodka and leave the lime juice as it is.”
“How about increasing the lime juice to two-thirds of a cup?” Delores asked her. “I really like lime.”
“So do I, but that might make it too limey . . . if limey is a word, that is.”
“It is,” Hannah told her. “It’s a term that was used for English sailors back in the early days. They were at sea for months, sometimes years, and they used to carry barrels of limes on a ship for sailors to eat to keep from getting scurvy. I like limes as much as you do, Mother, but I agree with Michelle. It could be a little too limey.”
“That’s why I’m just the measurer and not the baker,” Delores said. “These are just perfect, Michelle. It’s really a delightful recipe and I know Doc would absolutely love to taste them.”
Hannah caught her mother’s not so subtle hint. “I get it, Mother. Let’s all have one more and save a couple for Lisa to take home to Herb. And then, if you like, you can take the rest out to the hospital for Doc.”
“Not just Doc,” Delores explained. “I was thinking about that lunch with the board members. Doc needs their approval on a couple of things, and I don’t think a little vodka ever hurts when you’re dealing with board members.”
TIO TITO’S SUBLIME LIME BAR COOKIES
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
½ cup finely-chopped coconut (measure after chopping—pack it down when you measure it)
1 cup cold salted butter (2 sticks, 8 ounces, ½ pound)
½ cup powdered (confectioners) sugar (no need to sift unless it’s got big lumps)
2 cups all-purpose flour (pack it down when
you measure it)
4 beaten eggs (just whip them up with a fork)
2 cups white (granulated) sugar
cup lime juice (freshly squeezed is best)
cup vodka (I used Tito’s Handmade Vodka)
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ cup all-purpose flour (pack it down when you measure it)
Powdered (confectioners) sugar to sprinkle on top
Coconut Crust:
To get your half-cup of finely-chopped coconut, you will need to put approximately ¾ cup of shredded coconut in the bowl of a food processor. (The coconut will pack down more when it’s finely-chopped so you’ll need more of the stuff out of the package to get the half-cup you need for this recipe.) Chop the shredded coconut up finely with the steel blade. Pour it out into a bowl and measure out ½ cup, packing it down when you measure it. Return the half-cup of finely chopped coconut to the food processor. (You can also do this by spreading out the shredded coconut on a cutting board and chopping it finely by hand.)
Cut each stick of butter into eight pieces and arrange them in the bowl of the food processor on top of the chopped coconut. Sprinkle the powdered sugar and the flour on top of that. Zoop it all up with an on-and-off motion of the steel blade until it resembles coarse cornmeal.
Prepare a 9-inch by 13-inch rectangular cake pan by spraying it with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray. Alternatively, for even easier removal, line the cake pan with heavy-duty foil and spray that with Pam. (Then all you have to do is lift the bar cookies out when they’re cool, peel off the foil, and cut them up into pieces.)
Sprinkle the crust mixture into the prepared cake pan and spread it out with your fingers. Pat it down with a large spatula or with the palms of your impeccably clean hands.
Hannah’s 1st Note: If your butter is a bit too soft, you may end up with a mass that balls up and clings to the food processor bowl. That’s okay. Just scoop it up and spread it out in the bottom of your prepared pan. (You can also do this in a bowl with a fork or a pie crust blender if you prefer.)
Hannah’s 2nd Note: Don’t wash your food processor quite yet. You’ll need it to make the lime layer. (The same applies to your bowl and fork if you make the crust by hand.)
Bake your coconut crust at 350 degrees F. for 15 minutes. While your crust is baking, prepare the lime layer.
Lime Layer:
Combine the eggs with the white sugar. (You can use your food processor and the steel blade to do this, or you can do it by hand in a bowl.) Add the lime juice, vodka, salt, and baking powder. Mix thoroughly. Add the flour and mix until everything is incorporated. (This mixture will be runny—it’s supposed to be.)
When your crust has baked for 15 minutes, remove the pan from the oven and set it on a cold stovetop burner or a wire rack. Don’t shut off the oven! Just leave it on at 350 degrees F.
Pour the lime layer mixture on top of the crust you just baked. Use potholders to pick up the pan and return it to the oven. Bake your Sublime Lime Bar Cookies for an additional 30 minutes.
Remove the pan from the oven and cool your lime bars in the pan on a cold stovetop burner or a wire rack. When the pan has cooled to room temperature, cover it with foil and refrigerate it until you’re ready to serve.
Cut the bars into brownie-sized pieces, place them on a pretty platter, and sprinkle them lightly with powdered sugar. Yum!
Hannah’s 3rd Note: If you would prefer not to use alcohol in these bar cookies, simply substitute whole milk for the vodka. This recipe works both ways and I can honestly tell you that I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t like my Sublime Lime Bar Cookies!
Chapter Four
There was a knock at the back door, and Hannah glanced at the clock. It was eleven in the morning and her mother had left twenty minutes ago, Tio Tito’s Sublime Lime Bar Cookies tucked under her arm for the board member luncheon. It would have taken her at least ten minutes to drive to the hospital, and if her mother’s best friend, Carrie Rhodes, was working with the Rainbow Ladies at the hospital this morning, the news of her accident would be all over town.
“Bad news travels fast,” Hannah repeated one of her great-grandmother’s favorite homilies as she headed across the kitchen floor to open the door. “Might as well get it over with.” She added the phrase she’d been repeating to herself ever since she’d realized that the stranger she’d struck was dead, and then she winced a bit at her grammar. It was probably Bertie Straub from the Cut n’ Curl at the end of the block. Bertie was on the third tier of the Lake Eden Gossip Hotline, the phone tree Delores and Carrie had established to disseminate breaking news in Lake Eden, and Bertie would have heard about the accident by now. She was undoubtedly arriving to get the full details from Hannah so that she could repeat them to her morning clients.
“Hi, Ber . . . Norman!” Hannah changed names in mid-speech as she saw the other man she dated, Norman Rhodes, standing there. “Come in, Norman.”
Norman closed his umbrella and stepped inside, placing it on the rug Hannah always kept by the back door when it was raining. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to talk to anybody.”
“You’re not just anybody,” Hannah told him, stepping into his arms for a most welcome hug. His arms tightened around her and she realized that this was the first time she’d felt completely safe and thoroughly comforted since Doc had confirmed that the man she’d struck on the road was dead. Norman was her haven, her safe harbor from the calamities of life. Was she a fool for not marrying him and staying secure with him for the rest of her life? Some said yes, and some said no, and Hannah knew that both sides were right. She was a fool. She had everything she needed right here in Norman’s arms. And she wasn’t a fool because no woman should marry when she still had strong feelings she couldn’t ignore for a different man. She pulled away slightly as if in reaction to her last thought.
And as if Norman somehow sensed her mood, he released her so that she could step back.
“So tell me about it,” Norman said, and then he paused for a moment. “But only if you want to, of course.”
“I want to. Just let me get you a cup of coffee first.” Hannah gestured toward the stainless steel workstation. “Have a seat. I’ll get you a couple of cookies, too.”
“Great! I didn’t have time for breakfast. Cuddles learned how to chase a ball this morning and we played longer than we should have.”
Hannah felt the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile on her way to the kitchen coffeepot. Norman was a great kitty-daddy. “I thought Cuddles knew how to chase a ball.”
“Oh, she did. But she finally figured out that I’d throw it again if she brought it back and dropped it in front of me.”
As she plucked a Chocolate Chip Crunch Cookie, a Lovely Lemon Bar Cookie, and a Molasses Crackle from the bakers rack, Hannah thought about how her cat, Moishe, brought his toy mouse back to her every time she threw it. “Do you think she learned it from Moishe?”
“She must have. I didn’t try to teach her to do it. I’m almost sure she learned it last night when I brought her over to your place to play.”
It had been a wonderful night and for a brief moment, Hannah wished she could go back in time to the exact instant that Norman had arrived at her condo, and live it all over again. Perhaps things would be different the second time around and Cyril would have Lisa’s car ready. Of course, then Lisa might have hit the stranger on her way back to The Cookie Jar and she wouldn’t wish the guilt of taking someone’s life on anyone else, especially not her good friend and partner.
“What is it?” Norman asked her when she set their cups of coffee and the plate of cookies down. “You look very serious.”
“It was nothing really. I was just thinking that you can’t mess with fate.”
“What were you doing? Wishing that you could go back in time so that you wouldn’t have the accident?”
“Exactly. I keep wishing that things were different and wondering what would have happened if I’d left fi
ve minutes later, or if I’d decided to take the highway to town instead of going the back way. I wonder if anyone else does that.”
“I do. I scraped my side mirror backing out of the garage right after I moved into our house, and I kept wishing I could go back a couple of seconds in time so that I’d back up straighter and I wouldn’t scrape it.”
“It’s good to know I’m not alone,” Hannah said, but her mind was fixed on two words that Norman had used. Our house. Norman had called it their house and that made her feel sad. In a way, it was their house. They’d designed it together for a contest in the Minneapolis paper and they’d won first prize. But she’d never, in her wildest imagination, dreamed that Norman would build it and ask her to marry him!
Norman reached out to cover her hand with his. “You’re never alone when I’m around.”
There was silence between them for a long moment, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. At last Hannah sat up a little straighter and sighed. “I killed him, you know,” she said.
“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have seen him in the pouring rain.”
“Then I should have pulled over.”
“Perhaps. Why didn’t you?”
“I was trying to get under the trees so we’d have some shelter from the lightning.”
“That makes sense to me.”
“And then I came around the bend and there was a fallen tree branch in the middle of the road. I swerved to avoid it, but the truck skidded and headed for the side of the road and . . . and before I could straighten it out, I hit him.”
Blackberry Pie Murder (A Hannah Swensen Mystery) Page 3