by Joanne Fluke
Freshly grated nutmeg to sprinkle on top
Place the white chocolate chips, along with the vanilla extract, in a microwave-safe bowl on the counter.
Heat the milk and the cinnamon in a saucepan on the stove at MEDIUM LOW heat, stirring constantly, until it begins to steam and bubbles form around the edges of the saucepan. DO NOT LET IT BOIL!
Sprinkle the 1 Tablespoon of instant coffee granules over the top of the heated milk and stir them in. Make sure they are dissolved.
Pour the not-quite-boiling mixture over the white chocolate chips in the bowl. Stir once, and then cover it with a clean dish towel, a lid that’ll fit it, or a piece of heavy-duty foil tucked in around the edges of the bowl.
Let the bowl sit on the counter for 5 minutes.
Take off whatever you used for a lid and whisk briskly until the chips are melted and the mixture is smooth and creamy.
Hannah’s 1st Note: If the chips haven’t entirely melted, you can stick the bowl in the microwave and heat the contents on HIGH for 1 minute. Let it sit in the microwave for one more minute and then take out the bowl and attempt to stir it smooth. If that doesn’t do it, heat it again for 30-second intervals followed by 30-second standing times, until you can stir it smooth.
Pour the White Chocolate Mocha into mugs and top with sweetened whipped cream sprinkled with freshly grated nutmeg.
Hannah’s 2nd Note: If you like, you can serve this with a cinnamon stick in each mug for stirring. If you don’t feel like making sweetened whipped cream, you can simply drop a handful of miniature marshmallows on top of each serving.
Michelle’s Note: It was hot under the lights at the Food Channel competition so I didn’t have any trouble getting the white chocolate chips to melt, but Lisa told me that if she makes White Chocolate Mocha at home, she usually puts the white chocolate chips in her food processor and uses the steel blade to chop them up before she pours on the almost-boiling milk and coffee mixture. This takes less whisking than if you leave the chips whole.
Chapter Eighteen
“Perfect,” Hannah said as they left Sally’s kitchen and locked the door behind them. “We had plenty of time to do everything, Michelle.”
“I know. It was a lot easier than making all those long ropes of cookie dough and combining them into rolls. And I think the cookies showcase better the way we’re doing it now.”
“This way, Michelle.” Hannah guided her around the corner and knocked on Sally’s office door. “I want to see if Sally’s in yet.”
The door opened immediately, almost as if Sally had been waiting for them to stop by, and there was a smile on Sally’s face as she motioned them inside.
“I knew you’d stop by,” she said, pouring each of them a cup of coffee from the pot she kept on a stand under the picture window that overlooked the kitchen. “You’re doing it again, aren’t you?”
Hannah nodded, but Michelle looked puzzled.
“Doing what?” Michelle asked Sally.
“Investigating,” Hannah answered her sister. “Sally knows that I can’t be hands-off when one of us is involved.”
“You can forget about the one of us part,” Sally told Hannah. “All you had to say is that you can’t be hands-off.”
“You’re right,” Hannah admitted. “We really need to figure out who killed him.”
“Yes, and the sooner, the better,” Sally agreed. “Every single one of my busboys is leery about going into the cooler. I watched them last night and no one wanted to be the first one in there.”
“What did you do?” Michelle asked.
“I marched in the kitchen and went into the cooler. That shamed them into it, but I have to admit that it was kind of creepy just knowing that Chef Duquesne had been murdered in there. Then I had them bring me buckets of hot water and I scrubbed the floor with bleach.”
Michelle shuddered. “You’re a brave woman, Sally. I don’t know if I could have gone in there again, especially alone.”
“I just kept repeating what my father used to say when my mother would say she’d seen a ghost. He’d tell her, The dead can’t hurt the living.”
“And that helped you?” Hannah asked.
“Not really, but it didn’t help my mother, either. I just kept telling myself that the killer wouldn’t come back to the cooler to commit another murder with all the busboys and waiters standing around in the kitchen watching me.” Sally paused and took a sip of her own coffee. “Anyway, you probably want to know my impressions of the judges and the contestants, and whether I saw anything pertaining to Chef Duquesne that I thought was unusual . . . right?”
“Exactly right!” Hannah praised her, taking her murder book from her purse and flipping to a fresh page. “Go ahead, Sally. Tell me anything that you think might help.”
“Okay. I’m sure you already know that no one liked Chef Duquesne. The contestants thought he was overly critical and nasty when he commented on their entries. He did have an eye for the pretty women, though. One of my maids told me that he tried to get her to dry his back after a shower.”
“When was that?” Michelle asked her.
“In the afternoon on the day he arrived. He called down for more towels and Rita went up to deliver them. She’s the head of my housekeeping staff, and I asked her to take care of all requests from the contestants, their assistants, and the judges.”
“And she’s experienced at dealing with guests you think might cause problems?”
“Oh, yes. Rita’s been with us from the beginning. She worked for us when we lived in the Cities and we brought her with us when we opened our inn.”
Hannah sighed as she jotted a note. “We’ve heard that Chef Duquesne was a . . . womanizer. How about you, Sally? Did you see any behavior that could have been compromising?”
“I always see things that could be compromising. Dick and I run a hotel. Sometimes those things aren’t really compromising and sometimes they are, but part of our job is to watch out for trouble and to keep our guests safe. Let’s be a little clearer on this, Hannah. What would you call compromising?”
Hannah thought about that for a moment. “Let me put it this way . . . did you see any women leaving Chef Duquesne’s room in the morning before anyone else got up?”
“No, nothing like that. The only women who went into his room left a lot earlier than that!”
“Who? And when?” Hannah asked, her pen poised over the page.
“Brooke Jackman. Rita saw her go into his room and come out less than ten minutes later. She tried to smile when she saw Rita in the hall, but Rita could tell she’d been crying.”
“Anyone else?” Michelle asked.
“Well . . . there was a woman in the bar with him after the competition was over. They sat at a table, drinking.”
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t recognize her. She wasn’t a guest in the hotel. I know that. And she wasn’t part of a contestant team, either. As a matter of fact, she had her coat with her, a nice dark green wool with a fur collar. It was draped over the back of her chair. That tells me she came in for the competition and she planned to leave to go back home.”
“What did she look like?” Michelle asked.
“She was a good-looking woman with brown hair and I’d say she was in her late forties or early fifties. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, or if she was, it was very subtly done. The only thing I really noticed about her was the lovely double strand of multicolored pearls that she had around her neck. They were gorgeous against her white sweater.”
Hannah wrote a note. “Thanks, Sally. That gives us something to go on. Did Chef Duquesne look like he was romantically interested in her?”
“He didn’t look that way at first, but after a couple of drinks, he did.”
“Was she drinking, too?”
“Nothing alcoholic. She ordered hot pink lemonade. We serve it in a mug with grated nutmeg on top. He caught me after they’d ordered their second round, slipped me a twenty, and asked me to put vodka in he
r lemonade.”
Hannah’s eyebrows shot up and Sally laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t. If the lady had wanted vodka, she was the type who would have ordered it herself.”
“Did you tell him you wouldn’t do it?” Michelle asked.
“No. We try to avoid conflict in the bar. I just smiled, thanked him very much for the tip, and put the money in the cash register. Later on, Dick deducted the twenty dollars from his bar bill.”
“Did the woman go up to Chef Duquesne’s room with him?”
“Yes, after about an hour or two in the bar. It was a repeat of what happened with Brooke. Rita said that the woman came out of his room less than twenty minutes later.”
“And she was crying, too?”
“No, but Rita said that she looked so upset, she practically ran down the hall to the elevator.”
“I think we can all guess why the lady was upset when she left,” Michelle said. “If Chef Duquesne thought she’d been drinking vodka in her lemonade, he might have assumed that she was smashed. And then, when he got her up to his room, he probably tried to hit on her.”
“And it didn’t work the way he thought it would because she was stone cold sober,” Hannah added.
“I’m sure you’re right,” Sally agreed.
“What time did the woman leave his room?” Hannah asked.
“Eleven forty-five. I know because Rita said she had fifteen minutes of her shift to go and she gets off at midnight.”
“Do you have a security camera in the bar?” Hannah asked, hoping to see an image of the woman.
“We’ve got one, but it’s a dummy. People think it’s real, but it’s not. It’s just like the one in the kitchen.”
Hannah was surprised. “The one in the kitchen is a dummy, too?”
“Yes. The only camera that’s fully operational is the one by the front door. That’s why I knew that Rita was right about the time that the woman left.”
“You’ve got her on camera?” Hannah felt her spirits rise.
“Yes, but only from the back. The camera catches them when they come in, not when they leave. And she had a scarf on her head. There’s no way anyone could recognize her from that.”
“What color was the scarf?” Michelle asked.
“I don’t know. The surveillance camera shows everything in black and white and it’s a pretty grainy picture. We’re upgrading and putting in more cameras, but that won’t happen until next month.”
“So you didn’t notice her scarf when her coat was on the chair in the bar?”
“Actually . . .” Sally looked very excited. “I did! I just forgot all about it. It was dark red and dark green in a checkerboard design. I remember thinking that I should get something like that to wear during the Christmas season.”
“That’s helpful, Sally,” Hannah told her. “Thanks for the description. Ross made a copy of the footage from the competition and panned the audience a couple of times for their reactions to the judging. That footage is in color, and Michelle and I will fast-forward through it this afternoon to see if he caught the woman on camera. Brown hair, white sweater, and multicolored pearls . . . right?”
“And a dark green coat with a fur collar and the scarf Sally described,” Michelle reminded her. “Maybe she hung up her coat when she came in, but there’s always the possibility that she didn’t.”
“All right, girls. You’ve got everything I know.” Sally got up from her chair. “Call if you need anything else, okay? And good luck in the competition tonight!”
“I think we’ll be all right in the competition tonight,” Hannah said, taking the on-ramp to the highway.
“So do I. And if those cookies we baked weren’t in the back of the truck, I’d eat one right now. My stomach was growling like crazy when we were baking them. I had all I could do not to grab one when we packed them up to take home. The only thing that stopped me was I knew that if I had one, I’d eat two or three. And that would spoil my breakfast. We’re still stopping at the Corner Tavern, aren’t we?”
“Yes, we’re stopping,” Hannah told her, not mentioning that she’d sneaked two of the Butterscotch Sugar Cookies herself when Michelle wasn’t looking.
“They look crowded,” Michelle commented as they took the exit and pulled into the parking lot of the Corner Tavern.
“Yes, but it’s a big place. They can probably find room for us.”
“Look at that!” Michelle pointed to the parking spot in the front of the lot, very close to the entrance.
“I see it.” Hannah circled and pulled into the convenient parking space. “Come on, Michelle. It was a late night last night, and tonight will be a long night, too. I need coffee.”
“And protein,” Michelle added. “If we can’t get a table right away, let’s see if we can order coffee and a side of bacon while we’re waiting.”
“Hi, Hannah!” Nona Prentiss greeted them after they’d hung their coats in the cloak room and entered the restaurant through the inner door. She was the owner’s oldest daughter and, although she didn’t work in her father’s business on a regular basis, Nona always filled in at the hostess station when they were shorthanded.
“Hi, Nona,” Hannah greeted her. “It’s good to see you. You’re really crowded this morning.”
“Yes, we are. The hostess is taking a waitress shift and Dad called me in to help. He figures that everyone will come in for breakfast so they can hear the latest gossip about the murder.”
“You’re probably right,” Hannah agreed, reaching out to pet Albert, the stuffed grizzly bear that was mounted right next to the hostess station. Albert had gotten a makeover from the taxidermist, and now he was holding up well. Everyone in Lake Eden had contributed money for the endeavor, since most of them had petted Albert when they were kids and they wanted their children to enjoy him as much as they had.
“Are you okay, Michelle?” Nona asked her. “I heard you were the one who found him in Sally’s cooler.”
“I’m okay,” Michelle told her. “Right now, Hannah and I are just concentrating on getting ready for the competition tonight.”
“You really did great at the last one! Everybody in here thinks you’ll win again tonight. You two make a great team.”
“Thank you. That’s probably because Hannah taught me how to bake and we’ve been baking together for fun for years.”
Nona picked up two menus and smiled at them. “Just follow me. I’ll show you to your table.”
Hannah was surprised. “You have room for us in there?” she asked, gesturing toward the crowded interior of the restaurant.
“Of course we do. I’ll take you in the back way so that people won’t stop you and ask questions. Dad always saves one private table in the back, just in case someone really important comes in. And you two are the most important people in Lake Eden right now. Both of you are celebrities.”
Hannah was puzzled as they followed Nona to a table. Were they celebrities because they’d done so well in the Food Channel competition? Or were they celebrities because Michelle had found another victim? Her inquiring mind wanted to know, but her cautious mind told her to leave well enough alone. It didn’t really matter at the moment. Right now she was more concerned about drinking coffee and eating a great breakfast.
Nona led them to a secluded table shielded by an island of planters filled with large green plants that Hannah didn’t recognize. “What kind of plants are those?” she asked Nona, pointing toward the lush, broad-leafed greenery.
“Plastic plants,” Nona said with a perfectly deadpan expression.
Hannah and Michelle exchanged glances and then both of them burst into laughter.
“Dad was right,” Nona said with a grin. “It gets to everyone the first time they hear it. I think they’re supposed to be some kind of tropical thing that’s really exotic and doesn’t grow in Minnesota, but they are pretty special. If they get dirty, we just pull them out of the planter and put them in the industrial dishwasher. They come out as clean as
a whistle and Dad just sticks them right back in the planter again.”
“That sounds like the sort of plant I should have,” Hannah said. “Lisa says that instead of a green thumb, I have the thumb of death when it comes to indoor plants.”
“It’s true,” Michelle spoke up. “When I come to stay with Hannah, there’s a dead philodendron on the ledge of the guest room window.”
“That’s not entirely true, Michelle,” Hannah corrected her. “A couple of times, they’ve been dead African violets.”
Nona was laughing as she walked back to her hostess station. Michelle waited until she was out of earshot and then she leaned toward Hannah. “I think I’d better call Lisa at The Cookie Jar and tell her to get ready for a big crowd. From what Nona said, everybody’s going to want to know what happened when I found the body.”
“You’ll have to tell her about it so she can make up her story.”
“Been there, done that. I called her this morning when you were getting dressed. Lisa’s ready with the story, but she may not be ready for the size of the crowd.”
After Lisa had been warned, and they’d ordered from the waitress, Hannah and Michelle took a moment to relax and look around the room. It was an oasis, peaceful and calm. But it seemed like only seconds had gone by, when their waitress came bustling back with their breakfast.
“That looks wonderful,” Hannah said as their smiling waitress set her omelet down on the table in front of her.
“Our omelets are the best,” the waitress told her, delivering Michelle’s plate. “Your side of crispy bacon is coming right up, and I’ll bring more coffee out in a bit. Is there anything else I can get for you right now?”
“No thanks. I think we’re all set,” Hannah told her.
“I guess I’m wrong,” Michelle said when the waitress had gone back to the kitchen to get their bacon.
“About what?”
“About that local celebrity thing. I don’t think she recognized you.”
“That’s a relief in a way. At least I don’t have to wear a smile when I don’t feel like smiling, I don’t have to put on gobs of makeup and have my hair done every day, and I don’t have to think about everything I say before I say it just in case someone quotes me. I don’t know how real celebrities handle being in the spotlight all the time. There’s always someone taking photos and asking them for autographs. I’m just glad no one asks me to pose for pictures or sign anything.”
