Fudge Cupcake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “You’re working it alone?” Hannah was surprised. “Why didn’t you pick one of the other deputies to help you?”

  “Because I can’t trust anyone at the station except Lonnie Murphy and he won’t be back for almost two weeks.”

  Hannah was confused. “But why would you trust Lonnie and not any of the other deputies?”

  “Because Lonnie’s the newest hire and Sheriff Grant always treated the new deputies well for the first six months. After that, the honeymoon was over.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At the end of six months, he started criticizing them. Sheriff Grant could be a real bear about protocol and almost everyone on the force had plenty of reasons to hate him.”

  “Like what?”

  “Delayed promotions, denials of personal time off with pay, and ridiculously picky reprimands that kept them from getting their merit increases.” Mike ticked them off on his fingers. “You must have heard this before, Hannah. Bill knew all about it. Sheriff Grant nailed him last year.”

  “I remember,” Hannah said. “Andrea told me that Bill got a reprimand for having his tie on crooked after an all-night stakeout.”

  “That’s exactly the sort of thing I’m talking about. I’m going through the files right now to check out those reprimands and most of them are bogus.”

  “And you think someone might have killed Sheriff Grant over an unfair reprimand?”

  “Not really. I can’t believe that any deputy would be mad enough to actually kill him, but it’s my duty to check everyone out.”

  Hannah’s ears perked up. “You mean an internal investigation?”

  “That’s right. And I could really use Bill’s help. Cut me a little slack here, Hannah. Suspending Bill hurt me just as much as it hurt him.”

  Hannah didn’t dignify that statement with a response. Instead she just stared at Mike until he dropped his eyes.

  “Well…” Mike said, shifting from foot to foot. “I’d better run. I’ll see you later.”

  Not if I see you first! Hannah thought, not voicing the reply she would surely have given in junior high. She kept her lips zipped, waited until Mike had driven off, climbed into her cookie truck, and headed off to her catering job.

  Chapter

  Six

  I

  t was after one in the afternoon when Hannah climbed back into her cookie truck. The catering had gone well and the event had been a success. Marge Beeseman signed up the volunteers she needed for her book drive, the ladies of the Friends of the Lake Eden Community Library loved the Cherry Winks, and Hannah managed to dodge a bullet with her mother. It was obvious that Delores didn’t know about her son-in-law’s suspension. And since Andrea hadn’t yet broken the news, Hannah had decided that it wouldn’t be nice to tell her and usurp her sister’s position.

  Hannah took a deep breath as she pulled up in Andrea and Bill’s driveway. This would take all her tact, and tact wasn’t her long suit. Bill would be upset over his suspension and Andrea would be upset if Hannah offered one word of criticism about the lunch she’d prepared.

  Since Andrea’s Volvo was in the driveway, Hannah parked her truck behind it and got out to press the front doorbell. She could hear the chimes ringing inside and she grinned. Andrea and Bill had one of the new musical doorbells and it was playing the first four bars of the Viking’s fight song. Viking supporters were nothing if not loyal.

  When Andrea pulled open the door, she looked apologetic. “Sorry it took me so long. I was just finishing the toast.”

  “Oh,” Hannah said, stepping inside and sniffing the air. Carbon. Andrea had burned the toast. “Anything new I should know about?”

  “Nothing. Come on in, Hannah. Bill’s in the kitchen waiting for you.”

  Hannah followed her sister down the hallway and into the bright, sunny kitchen. When Andrea and Bill purchased this house, the kitchen had been a prime selling point. It was called a “gourmet kitchen” and Hannah envied the built-in double ovens, island stovetop with a barbecue grill in the center and padded benches around it on three sides for entertaining. It would be great fun to grill shish kabob appetizers while your guests watched. Even main courses would be more fun. There was a rotisserie attachment that allowed you to cook roasts or a whole chicken while your guests watched their entrée turn slowly over the grill.

  Andrea’s kitchen was truly ideal. To start with, it was huge, the size of most dining rooms and kitchens combined. There was an alcove for the round oak kitchen table and a rustic brick fireplace that made the huge room cheery. There was a fire in the fireplace now, and Hannah was almost positive that Bill had built it. Andrea didn’t like to bother with a fire, because she seldom spent much time in the kitchen.

  Hannah spotted Bill at the window seat in front of the bay window that overlooked the tree-lined back yard. As she walked over to greet him, she thought again of what an attractive couple her brother-in-law and sister made. Andrea was gorgeous with her long blonde hair, china blue eyes, and petite figure. She even looked good now, when she was eight months pregnant. Bill was Andrea’s exact opposite with dark brown hair, brown eyes, and a football quarterback’s physique. Last year he had started to put on a little weight around the middle, but since he had been working out with Mike every morning, his spare tire had completely disappeared. “How are you doing, Bill?”

  “Okay, considering. Andrea said you’ve got some ideas.”

  Hannah glanced over at her sister, but Andrea was busy assembling sandwiches at the counter. “Um…sure, I do. We’ll figure something out, Bill. Don’t worry.”

  “Here’s lunch!” Andrea announced, carrying a tray to the kitchen table. “We can talk about it after we eat.”

  “Thanks, honey.”

  Bill gave Andrea a smile as he walked to the table and sat down in a chair. Hannah followed suit, but her smile slipped alarmingly as she caught sight of the sandwiches piled on the platter. She knew they were toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but she wouldn’t have guessed it if Andrea hadn’t told her what she was planning to make. The toast was just this side of incinerated and the filling that leaked out between the slices of toast was tan and bright green!

  “What kind of jelly is that?” Hannah asked, staring at the plate of sandwiches.

  “Mint. I thought I had a full jar of grape in the pantry, but all I could find was the mint. Help yourself, Hannah. They’re better when the toast is still hot.”

  Hannah sighed, hoping she sounded disappointed. “Thanks, Andrea. The sandwiches look delicious, but I’m going to have to pass.”

  “But why?”

  “I did a stupid thing. I filled up on cookies while I was catering.”

  “Oh, Hannah!” Andrea’s lips tightened. “I made these just for you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hannah said, and she was. But she was pretty sure she wasn’t as sorry as she would be if she ate one of Andrea’s peanut butter and mint jelly sandwiches.

  “But you knew I was making lunch. I told you.”

  “I know you did. It’s just that Mother came over to talk to me and…”

  “Say no more,” Andrea waved away any further explanations. “I always eat when Mother’s around, too. It’s comforting. I think it’s a throwback to childhood when she was always criticizing us.”

  “Was?” Hannah’s brows shot up at her sister’s use of past tense.

  “Yes, at least as far as I’m concerned. I did what she wanted. I got married, I gave her a granddaughter, and pretty soon she’ll have a grandson to spoil. I don’t get criticized anymore. Mother saves it all up for you.”

  “It’s true,” Hannah said with a sigh. “Mother doesn’t seem to realize that what’s right for you isn’t necessarily what’s right for me.”

  “Of course it’s right for you. You just haven’t found the right man yet. And it’s certainly not the man we thought it might be! That rat! I still can’t believe that he could…”

  “Great sandwiches, honey!” Bill interrup
ted, heading Andrea off at the pass. “The mint jelly’s really different. I like it.”

  “Really?” Andrea gave Bill a radiant smile.

  “Absolutely.” Bill turned to Hannah. “Since you’re not eating, talk to me, Hannah. Do you have any great ideas for proving my innocence?”

  “Maybe. At least I got some information. I know that Sheriff Grant was killed between eight and nine-thirty last night. And I know that you had a fight with Sheriff Grant before you left the station.”

  “We did exchange words,” Bill admitted, “but that’s all we exchanged. Sheriff Grant offered me a raise if I backed off on the campaign. I told him I wouldn’t.”

  “And that’s when he shouted that you’d only win over his dead body?”

  “That’s when. Of course he didn’t mean it. He said that a lot. Ask anyone at the station.”

  “I believe you,” Hannah said, meeting Bill’s eyes. “How about calling in some markers at the station? I’m sure you have friends who could tell you what’s going on in the investigation.”

  “I do. And they would. But I can’t ask them, Hannah. A suspended detective can’t interfere in any way with an ongoing investigation. It’s in the rulebook.”

  “Forget the rulebook. If you don’t interfere, you could get charged with a murder you didn’t commit! You’re not going to just sit here twiddling your thumbs and waiting for Mike to catch the killer, are you?”

  “Of course not. I promised Mike I’d stay right here and keep a low profile, but there’s nothing in the rulebook about a suspended detective’s family interfering in the case.”

  Hannah started to grin. “You mean, like a certain sister-in-law?”

  “You got it. I can’t actively follow any leads, but I can advise you. All you have to do is come to me with any clues you find and we’ll put our heads together.”

  “Deal! Now let’s concentrate on finding you an alibi. Did you get any phone calls between eight and nine-thirty last night?”

  “Only two and they won’t do any good. They were both sales calls.”

  Hannah held up her hand. “Hold on a second. Those sales calls could do some good. I worked for a telemarketing firm for about a week while I was on summer break at college.”

  “About a week?” Andrea looked confused. “Did you get fired?”

  “No, I quit. It scared me that I was beginning to get good at it. I really didn’t want to sell carpet cleaning for the rest of my life. But I remember that all of our calls were logged in automatically. The supervisor could get a printout of what time we called a certain number and how long we talked.”

  Andrea gave Hannah a thumbs-up before she turned to Bill. “Do you remember what the telemarketers were selling, honey?”

  “I remember the first one. It was a timesharing thing. You know the type. They start out by telling you you’ve won a free weekend at a resort and then, when you get there, they try to sell you a timeshare. It was something about vacations in the tropics. I didn’t listen to the whole sales pitch. I just told the girl that we weren’t interested and hung up.”

  Hannah exchanged glances with Andrea. “What time did the call come in?”

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t look at the clock. But I don’t think it was very long after Andrea left.”

  “Okay. How about the second call?”

  “It was from a roofing company, but I don’t remember the name. They said they were working in the area. Of course they always say that.”

  “Maybe they were telling the truth this time,” Hannah pointed out. “At least it’s worth a shot. Just keep your eyes open for anyone who’s getting a new roof.”

  “I can do that,” Andrea said. “After I pick up Tracey at school, we’ll drive around a little and see if we can spot someone getting a new roof. But how do we track down the timeshare?”

  “Gus York,” Hannah said.

  “Gus York bought a timeshare?”

  “Not that I know of, but Irma came to my class last night and she mentioned that Gus was staying home to take sales calls. She said he got a real kick out of bugging the telemarketers by listening to their whole sales pitch, asking a whole bunch of questions, and then saying he guessed he wasn’t interested after all.”

  “Sounds like Gus has way too much time on his hands,” Bill commented.

  “You’re right, but he might remember the name of the vacation timeshare company.” Andrea reached for a notepad that said Groceries in big green letters at the top and jotted a note. Then she jotted a second note, and as Hannah watched, she jotted a third, a fourth, and a fifth.

  “You filled up half a page reminding yourself to call Gus York?”

  Andrea shook her head. “Don’t be silly.”

  “Then what else did you write?”

  “My grocery list. I just remembered that we needed grape jelly, peanut butter, apple juice, instant coffee, and bread.”

  Cherry Winks

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.,

  rack in the middle position

  1 cup melted butter (2 sticks)

  1 cup white sugar

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

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  3 Tablespoons maraschino cherry juice

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  ½ teaspoon baking soda

  ½ teaspoon salt

  1 ½ cups chopped pecans

  2 cups flour (not sifted)

  approximately 2 cups corn flakes, crushed (measure before crushing)

  1 small jar of maraschino cherries for garnish

  Melt the butter and add the white sugar. Then add the eggs. Stir it all up with the vanilla, cherry juice, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add the chopped pecans and the flour, and mix well.

  Crush the corn flakes and put them in a small bowl. (I put them in a plastic bag, seal it, and then crush them with my fingers.)

  Roll dough balls with your hands about the size of unshelled walnuts. (If the dough is too sticky, chill it for a half hour or so and then try it again.) Roll the dough balls in the crushed corn flakes and place them on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a standard sheet. Smush them down a bit so they won’t roll off.

  Cut the cherries into quarters and place one on the top of each cookie. Press the cherry down with the tip of your finger.

  Bake at 375 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes, or until nicely browned. Cool on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes, then transfer to wire rack to finish cooling.

  Yield: 6 to 7 dozen, depending on cookie size.

  These are very pretty cookies. They’re really popular at The Cookie Jar on Valentine’s Day. I also make them at Christmas using red cherries to decorate some and green cherries to decorate the others.

  Chapter

  Seven

  “I

  ’ m home, Moishe,” Hannah called out, opening the door to the condo and holding out her arms. True to form, her orange and white, furry medicine ball made a running jump into her arms, purring madly. Who needed a husband? Moishe’s greetings were quite enthusiastic enough.

  “Are you hungry? Or did you miss me?” Hannah asked, knowing that both answers were yes. She kicked the door shut behind her, placed Moishe on top of the back of the couch, and shed her coat on the seat of the chair by the front door.

  Moishe yowled and bounded for the kitchen. Hannah followed, knowing exactly what he wanted. She gave him fresh water and then she opened the broom closet to get his regular crunchies. As she set the bowls down on the mat, she said, “I didn’t have time to stop by Doctor Bob’s office and pick up another tip sheet. That means you get a reprieve tonight, but…”

  Hannah stopped speaking abruptly as the phone rang. She toyed with the idea of letting her answering machine get it, but she was in the mood to do battle with a salesman.

  “Oh, Hannah! I’m so glad you’re home!”

  “Andrea?” Hannah flopped down in one of the aluminum tube chairs that had come with her second-hand kitchen table. “You don’t sound good. What�
��s the matter?”

  “You’ve got to help me, Hannah!”

  “Is the baby com…”

  “No!” Andrea interrupted. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the baby.”

  Hannah did her best to remain calm. Her sister sounded on the edge of a nervous breakdown. “Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.”

  “You have to do something to clear Bill right away!” Andrea gasped, breathing hard.

  “I’m trying, Andrea. What’s got you so upset? You were fine when I was there.”

  “Deer stew.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Deer stew! While I was driving around with Tracey, looking for roofers, Bill’s father came in from the farm. He brought some packages of meat from their freezer and a whole bunch of vegetables. Bill thawed some meat and he’s making deer stew!”

  “That’s nice.”

  “No, it’s not! Don’t you understand, Hannah?”

  Hannah took a deep breath and shrugged, even though she knew her sister couldn’t see it. “No, I don’t. What’s wrong with deer…uh…venison stew?”

  “It’s a matter of principle. That’s important, Hannah. There’s just no way I’m going to eat Bambi!”

  “You won’t be eating Bambi. Bambi survived, right along with Thumper and Flower. It was Bambi’s mother that got turned into stew.”