Banana Cream Pie Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  When your Salted Caramel Bar Cookies are completely cool, cut them into brownie-size pieces, place them on a pretty plate, and serve them to your guests.

  Yield: A cake pan full of brownie-sized Salted Caramel Bar Cookie delights!

  If you’ve invited Mother, you’d better have a large plate of these bar cookies. I’ve seen her eat six at a sitting!

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Oh, good! You’re here!” Michelle came bursting through the back kitchen door, a huge smile on her face.

  “Hi, Michelle. How did rehearsal go?”

  “Just great! The woman playing Tricia’s mother is fantastic. And the rest of the cast isn’t bad, either. There’s some work to do, but I don’t see a problem in mounting a good show by Thanksgiving.”

  “So everything is going to work out fine without Tori?”

  Michelle frowned slightly. “Well . . . I didn’t say that. The reason I’m a little late getting back from rehearsal is I stayed at the school and took some time in Tori’s office to go over the books.”

  Hannah heard the worried note in Michelle’s voice. “And . . . ?” she asked.

  “Tori spent an awful lot of money on costumes and makeup. And the play they did on the Fourth of July didn’t make much money. She left a note reminding herself to write a check for a thousand dollars to the Lake Eden Players bank account, and I stopped to check with Doug Grierson to make sure the money was there. Doug wasn’t in so I asked to see Lydia Gradin, instead. She knew I’d taken over for Tori as director because her niece is in the play. And she checked the balance on the account for me.”

  “And Tori never got around to writing that check?” Hannah guessed.

  “That’s right.”

  “So the Lake Eden Players are broke?”

  “Pretty close to it. There’s only eighteen dollars in their account and Tori hadn’t sent in the money they owe for the performance rights to the Thanksgiving play they’re doing. It’s only fifty dollars, but there’s not that much money in the account. We need to have a fundraiser.”

  “It sounds like that’s the answer. What kind of a fundraiser did you have in mind?”

  “I’m not sure. A car wash works well here, but it’s cold! Nobody’s going to want to stand out in the cold and wait for us to wash their car. I guess we could have a rummage sale in the school auditorium, but the marching band just had one two weeks ago to fund their new uniforms.”

  Hannah thought about it for a moment. “You could always have a bake sale,” she suggested. “The people in Lake Eden always turn out for that.”

  “A bake sale might work,” Michelle agreed, beginning to look a bit excited about the idea. “And maybe we could team it with something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we could sell tickets to some kind of show, or hold a raffle, or something that would make the bake sale even more fun. We’re the Lake Eden Players, after all. It should be bigger than a bake sale, more entertaining and more fun. What can you do with a bake sale that’s fun, Hannah?”

  “Buy something good and eat it,” Hannah answered immediately. “But that’s not exactly what you mean. Maybe you could . . .” she stopped speaking and began to smile.

  “What?” Michelle asked her.

  “A pie eating contest! They have them at the state fair every year. It’s a huge attraction and they sell tickets to get in to watch. There’s no reason why you couldn’t have a pie eating contest right here in Lake Eden and sell tickets to watch it happen.”

  “You’re right! And if people knew the contestants ahead of time, they’d come to see who was going to win.”

  “You’ll need publicity,” Hannah pointed out.

  “That should be easy. Rod is always looking for a good story and he’d take pictures of the contestants for the paper. I know he would.”

  “He would if you managed to get some well-known Lake Edenites to agree to be contestants.”

  “Like who?”

  Hannah thought for a moment. “I’ll bet Mayor Bascomb would do it. He loves to get his picture in the paper.”

  “You’re right, Hannah. Mayor Bascomb would draw a crowd. Do you think Ross could talk the people at KCOW into taping the contest and airing a segment on the evening news?”

  “There’s only one way to find out. Call Ross and ask him.” Hannah gestured toward the phone on the wall. “Be persuasive. He’s in charge of their extra programming. Convince him that this would be good for the community and also good for KCOW’s ratings.”

  “Okay, I will. Can I tell Ross that you’ll be making the pies for the pie eating contest?”

  Hannah chuckled. Her youngest sister didn’t miss a trick. “Yes, you can tell him that.”

  “And can I say that you’ve agreed to be on the stage, helping me with the contest?”

  This time Hannah laughed out loud. “Yes, Michelle. You can tell him that.”

  “What’s Ross’s favorite pie?”

  “He loves Banana Cream Pie. He mentioned it when we were on our honeymoon.”

  “And will you make Banana Cream Pies for the pie eating contest?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great! I’ll tell Ross that, too. Everybody in the KCOW area knows you and your pies and it’ll add a little human interest.” Michelle headed for the kitchen phone, but she stopped and turned when she got there. “Can I tell Ross that the whole thing about the pie eating contest was your idea?”

  “Yes, Michelle,” Hannah said, the amusement clear on her face.

  Michelle obviously thought that Ross would do anything to please his new wife and she was counting on that. Hannah wasn’t so sure that was the case, but for her sister’s sake, and hers too, she hoped that Michelle’s assumption was correct.

  * * *

  “What’s next?” Michelle asked Hannah, who was sitting across from her at the stainless steel worktable, holding yet another cup of coffee. “We’re almost out of cookies again.”

  “Bar cookies. They’re faster and easier to make. And everyone loves bar cookies. Which ones shall we make?”

  “I don’t know. They’re all good, but I’m in the mood for trying something new and different. Maybe we can find some way to tweak one of your recipes with a new ingredient. Why don’t you look through the recipe book and pull out all the bar cookies. I’ll duck into the pantry and see what you have on hand. If I can find some interesting ingredient, that’ll give us some ideas.” Michelle brought the recipe book to the worktable and left to take stock of the pantry.

  Hannah cupped her hands around her mug of coffee and sighed. She knew exactly which bar cookies were in her recipe book and she really didn’t need to page through them. It had been a busy day and she was tired. She sat there longing for the lazy days she’d spent on the ship and the wonderful feeling that she had no responsibilities. It was different now that she was back at home and her personal Shangri-La had vanished. Now she had a whole truckload of duties and responsibilities. It seemed as if everyone in Lake Eden was depending on her for one thing or another, and she hadn’t even thought about what she could make for her husband’s dinner. Her to-do list was so long, it was mentally tripping her, and all she could do was sit there and feel guilty about all the things she hadn’t accomplished today.

  Feeling guilty is a waste of time, her mind said, and even worse, it’s counterproductive. You won’t accomplish anything at all if you continue to sit there and feel sorry for yourself.

  “You’re right,” Hannah said aloud. Then, when she realized that she was talking to herself, she clamped her lips shut.

  Call Stan Kramer’s office, her mind instructed. Even though you don’t think he’d divulge any information about a client, you can at least exhaust that possibility.

  It was good advice and Hannah got up from the workstation to walk to the phone on the wall. She dialed Stan’s office, but instead of getting Stan or his secretary, she got a recording. We are not in the office this week, the message informed
her. We will be back the following Monday at nine in the morning. If this is an emergency, please call . . .

  Hannah didn’t bother writing down the number given on the recording. An accountant in another town wouldn’t know anything about Stan’s current business. She hung up and was about to walk back to the work station when she remembered that she hadn’t yet spoken to Delores about Lisa’s idea.

  Hannah picked up the phone again, punched in her mother’s number and took a deep breath for courage. She was about to ask Delores to do something that she might not want to do.

  “Hello, Mother,” Hannah said when Delores answered. “Are you home?”

  “Of course I am. I answered the phone, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, of course you did. Sorry, Mother.”

  “That’s all right, dear. What’s wrong?”

  “I really don’t want to mention it over the phone, but would you mind if Michelle and I dropped over in an hour or so?”

  “That would be lovely, dear. Is there anything you can tell me now about why you girls want to see me?”

  Hannah’s mind went into high gear and landed on something that was true and would also please her mother “Actually. . . yes, Mother. There’s one reason that I can’t discuss right now, but Michelle and I really need your advice on another matter that concerns the Lake Eden Players. Michelle wants to hold a fundraiser and we need your expert advice about that.”

  “Of course, dear!” Delores sounded very pleased. “And I’m always happy to see both of you. And if you don’t mind my asking, does that other matter you can’t discuss right now concern Tori’s murder?”

  “Yes, it does. We’ll see you in an hour or so, Mother. And thank you so much.”

  There was a silence and then Delores spoke again. “You’re thanking me for what, dear?”

  “For being there. And . . . for being my mother. We’ll see you soon, Mother.”

  “What was all that about?” Michelle asked, coming out of the pantry in time to hear the last of Hannah’s conversation.

  “I have to talk to Mother about something sensitive,” Hannah told her.

  “Is it too sensitive for me to know?”

  “Of course not,” Hannah replied with a little laugh. “It’s just that Mother and I learned about a meeting Tori had with Stan Kramer, who’d discovered that Tori’s business manager was cheating her out of money.”

  “Whoa!” Michelle’s eyes widened. “I’ve heard of that happening before. My drama professor, the one who used to be a stage actor, said he had several friends who were taken to the cleaners by their business managers.”

  “Well, it seems that Tori was in the same boat. And she promised Stan that she wouldn’t call the guy and alert him in any way, but from everything Mother’s said about Tori, she was a bit of a hothead and she might just have done it.”

  “And her business manager killed Tori to keep her from turning him in or telling anyone else about it?”

  “Something like that. At least it’s a possibility and I have to check it out.”

  “So you’re going to ask Mother if she knows the name of Tori’s business manager.”

  “No, I already did that at lunch today and she doesn’t. I’m thinking of asking her if she’ll ask Mayor Bascomb.”

  Michelle began to frown. “Isn’t that a little insensitive? I mean, his sister was just murdered.”

  “I know. I just thought maybe Mother could think of some roundabout way to work it into a social conversation. Something like, ‘Tori once told me she had a wonderful investment manager. You don’t happen to know his name, do you?’”

  Michelle’s frown deepened. “Mother’s very good in social situations, but I think that one is doomed to failure. How about asking her to invite Stephanie Bascomb over for tea? Mother might be able to find out from her.”

  Hannah considered that for a moment. “Good idea! By tea, you do mean champagne, don’t you?”

  “Of course. Mother told me about the last time Stephanie came up to the penthouse for tea. Mother served her favorite champagne and Stephanie spilled the beans about all sorts of things.”

  “You’re right, Michelle. And asking Mother to find out from Stephanie wouldn’t break any social rules. It’s not like Stephanie and Tori were friends. They got along because of the mayor, but they certainly weren’t close. I doubt that Stephanie is too upset that her husband inherited all that money.”

  “It sounds like a plan to me. Let’s bake and then we’ll run up to Mother’s and ask her if she’ll try to get the information we need from Stephanie. I already told her that we wanted to come up to talk to her. And you can ask her advice about the bake sale and pie eating contest. She could probably suggest some people you could try to get for contestants and judges.”

  “Perfect. We’d better take something for Mother to serve to Stephanie. Stephanie’s got a real sweet tooth and she loves everything you bake. What’s her favorite flavor, Hannah?”

  Hannah took a moment to think about that. “I’m not sure, but she seems to love things with fruit. And that reminds me, did you find any interesting ingredients in the pantry, Michelle?”

  “I did.” Michelle gestured toward the workstation where a huge can sat in the center of the stainless steel surface.

  Hannah walked over to look. “Orange marmalade? I didn’t even know I had that! I wonder what possessed me to buy a can that large! I don’t think I was planning on making anything with orange marma . . .” Hannah paused and an amused expression crossed her face. “I remember now! I won it. Florence got it from a friend of hers who brought it all the way back from London. It’s very popular over there. Florence told me she likes it, but she said she’d never use up a can that big, even if she lived to be a hundred. She took it to Grandma Knudson at the parsonage for their white elephant Christmas drawing and I won it.”

  “Does Stephanie like oranges?” Michelle asked.

  “I think she does. I know she was wild about my Citrus Sugar Cookies. Lisa told me she had six, all by herself.”

  “That’s good enough for me. And it’s good enough for Stephanie, too. Let’s make Orange Marmalade Bar Cookies.”

  “With a shortbread crust?”

  “Yes, but let’s modify the crust by adding shredded coconut.”

  “That sounds good to me. Coconut and orange are great together. Shall we use the crust from my Lovely Lemon Bars?”

  “Yes. I think it would be even better with coconut in it. You’ll have to cut the coconut up really small though. A lot of people don’t like to get coconut stuck between their teeth.”

  “You’re right. And I will. I’ll put shredded coconut in the food processor and use the steel blade the way I do when I make Rose’s Coconut Cake.”

  * * *

  A little over an hour later, Hannah and Michelle stepped into the elevator in the Albion Hotel. Hannah was carrying an almost cool pan of Orange Marmalade Cookie Bars. “Can you get out your key card?” she asked Michelle.

  “I’ve got it.” Michelle pushed the card into the slot and pressed the proper button for the penthouse.

  “What time is it?” Hannah asked her.

  “A quarter after three. I just hope it’s not too late for Mother to invite Stephanie over for tea.”

  “It’s not too late. The mayor has a council meeting scheduled for six tonight. I read it in the Lake Eden Journal. They’re hearing concerned citizens speak about the new parking garage the mayor wants to build to handle city vehicles.”

  “Where does he want to build that?”

  “On the way out to the cemetery, but August Rahn is objecting because it’s right next to one of his pastures and he says the traffic will upset his cows and reduce the volume of his milk. From what I heard in the coffee shop this morning, August has several of his neighbors to back up his claim about milk production and it could be a long meeting.”

  “Stephanie doesn’t go to the meetings, does she?”

  “Of course not. It’s beneath her.”
The elevator doors opened and Hannah got off to find Delores waiting for them.

  “Oh, good! You’re here. Come in, girls.” She turned back to look at Hannah. “What are you carrying, dear?”

  “Orange Marmalade Bar Cookies. I’m hoping you’ll serve them when Stephanie comes over for tea at five this afternoon.”

  Delores stopped short to look at Hannah in confusion. “Stephanie Bascomb? But I haven’t invited Stephanie to tea!”

  “Not yet,” Michelle took over. “But Hannah and I are hoping you will. You’re wonderful at getting information out of people, Mother. And Hannah really needs some information from Stephanie.”

  Delores laughed. “Flattery will get you everywhere, dears. I think I know exactly what you need, Hannah. You want me to ask Stephanie if she knows the name of Tori’s business manager.”

  “Precisely, Mother. If anyone can get that name, it’s you. And there’s no one else who knows it except Stan Kramer and he’s out of town until Monday.”

  “I see.” Delores led the way to the climate controlled garden and gestured toward a table and chairs. “Sit down, girls. I have a nice bottle of white wine for you . . . unless, of course, you’d rather have coffee.”

  “Hannah will have a glass of wine with you, Mother,” Michelle spoke for her older sister. “She needs to relax a little. I’ll have coffee it it’s made. Or water. Either will do just fine. I’m going to drive us back to Hannah’s condo when The Cookie Jar closes and I’d rather not drink.”

  “I raised very smart girls,” Delores said, preening a bit. “You’ll like this wine, Hannah. Dick Laughlin recommended it highly. Doc and I had it the last time we went out to the Lake Eden Inn and it was superb. And there’s bottled water in the cooler, Michelle . . . unless you’d rather have coffee.”

  “Water’s better when you’re thirsty. And I am,” Michelle said, opening the cooler and taking out a bottle.

  “Would you like a glass for your water, dear?”

  “No, thank you, Mother. The bottle’s plastic and it’s perfect for out here.”