Fudge Cupcake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  Moishe mewed again and pushed his head up against her hand, soliciting more gentle pets from his mistress. Hannah obliged and felt for injury. Nothing seemed to be broken, and there were no wounds that she could see or feel.

  After several long minutes of scratching and soothing, Moishe was calm again. Hannah made sure that he was bribed into complacency by a handful of his favorite salmon-flavored kitty treats, and then she headed off to see if she could spot what had disturbed him.

  The windows were secure and the door had been locked when she came in. Finding nothing amiss in any of the other rooms, Hannah headed into the bathroom. And that was when she found the telltale piece of evidence that told her exactly what had happened. The liquid vitamin supplement she’d left on the kitchen counter was now in the bottom of her toilet bowl.

  “Uh-oh,” Hannah groaned. No wonder Moishe had been trembling when he’d come out from under the bed! He knew he’d done wrong.

  Should she punish him? Hannah considered it for a split second and quickly discarded that notion. Moishe had been kicked around and abused during his former life on the streets. This was a safe haven for him and there was no way Hannah was going to jeopardize the trust they’d built up in one another. Everyone said that unless you caught your pets in the act, punishment after the fact would only confuse them. And the way that Moishe had trembled, mewed pitifully, and crawled to her on his belly when she’d come home certainly indicated contrition.

  Hannah fished out the bottle of vitamin supplement and put it in the cabinet under the sink. She couldn’t bear to throw away something that had been that expensive, but she didn’t intend to use it again. It was simply too traumatic for both of them. There had to be something else she could do that wouldn’t upset either one of them. Tonight she’d feed Moishe his regular kitty crunchies. They’d both been through enough for one day. And tomorrow morning she’d stop by the vet’s office and ask Doctor Bob’s advice.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  “I

  s that a new cookie recipe?” Lisa asked the next morning, bringing Hannah a fresh cup of coffee from the urn. They’d finished the baking and now they were relaxing at their favorite table in the back until it was time to open.

  “It’s a new recipe, but it’s not for cookies. I stopped by the vet’s office this morning and Sue gave me a recipe for making Moishe’s senior cat food from scratch.”

  “Uh-oh,” Lisa said with a frown. “My brilliant plan to give Moishe his vitamins wasn’t so brilliant after all?”

  “It could have been brilliant, I just don’t know. I never got the chance to test it out. When I got home last night, Moishe was hiding under the bed and his vitamin bottle was at the bottom of the toilet bowl.”

  “I guess that tells you what he thinks of food supplements.”

  “It certainly does,” Hannah said with a grin. “Anyway, I decided to try something that both of us could live with. Cooking his food doesn’t seem to be that difficult.”

  “Let me see.” Lisa peered over Hannah’s shoulder at the typewritten recipe. “You’re going to boil liver for him every morning and every evening?”

  “It’s worth it as long as I don’t have to give him those vitamins.”

  “How about the rest of this stuff? You have to cook that, too.” Lisa read the list of additional ingredients and shuddered. “This sounds really horrible, especially for breakfast.”

  “It’s not that bad, Lisa. It’s almost like an omelet, if you think about it.”

  “I don’t want to think about it, especially first thing in the morning. What is this last ingredient, calcium carbonate?”

  “It’s what’s in eggshells. Sue said I could just crush the shells really fine and add the powder to Moishe’s food. The whole thing’ll be like a crunchy liver omelet with a side of rice.”

  “Yuck. Just thinking about it is making me sick. I don’t know what’s worse, the liver or the eggshells. Do you think he’ll eat it?”

  “I think so, especially when I finish seasoning it. I can’t bear the thought of making an omelet without salt and pepper and maybe a little dash of garlic powder.”

  “But animals aren’t supposed to have seasoning.”

  “Says who? I bet that comes from people who never had to taste pet food. If I were a cat or a dog, I’d want my dinner spiced up with a little seasoning. I might even douse it with ketchup if I could figure out how to get the cap off the bottle.”

  When Lisa came back from lunch, she handed Hannah a bag from the Red Owl. “Here, Hannah. I picked up a sack of candy corn. Where do you want it?”

  “In the kitchen, on the counter by the sink.”

  Hannah made the rounds with the coffee carafe while Lisa took the bag to the kitchen and washed her hands. When she came back out, she was wearing her hair net and one of the pretty serving aprons that a local seamstress had made for them.

  “You should see the community center,” Lisa said. “The seniors are helping to decorate it for Halloween and it looks really good.”

  “How’s the Haunted Basement coming along?”

  “It’s almost done. They were just moving in the furniture while I was there. Edna was in the kitchen, filling the bags of treats for the kids, and she had an idea for Alma’s cupcakes.”

  “What’s that?” Hannah asked. Edna had been baking for almost half a century and she knew what she was doing.

  “She said she thought it had to be some kind of thickened liquid.”

  “I agree,” Hannah said. “Did she have any suggestions?”

  “Only one, but she said it couldn’t be right.”

  “What was it?” Hannah wanted to know. Even if Edna’s suggestion wouldn’t work for the secret ingredient, it might give them some ideas.

  “Sweetened condensed milk.”

  “But that could be it! The recipe could use more sugar and it’s just about the right consistency. Why didn’t Edna think it would work?”

  “Because Alma was known for pinching her pennies.”

  “You mean sweetened condensed milk would be too expensive for her to use in a recipe?”

  “Not exactly. Edna said Alma would use it, but she sure wouldn’t throw any away.”

  “I get it,” Hannah began to smile. “The recipe calls for half a cup and there’s more than that in the can. But maybe Alma doubled the recipe.”

  Lisa shook her head. “Edna thought of that. Even if she doubled the recipe, she’d still have a quarter cup left in the can. Edna said Alma never would have stood still for that.”

  “Edna’s probably right,” Hannah said, refilling her coffee cup. “When you get a second, Mayor Bascomb needs another Molasses Crackle and Mrs. Jessup wants a dozen Peanut Butter Melts to take home with her. Call me if it gets really busy. I’m going to mix up a batch of Corn Cookies for us to test.”

  Hannah had just finished decorating her first pans of Corn Cookies when there was a knock at the back door. She slid the pans on shelves in the bakers’ rack and hurried to the door.

  “Sorry to bother you, Hannah.” Barbara Donnelly stood there, shivering in the bitter wind that blew down the alley, “but I just thought of something you should know.”

  Hannah glanced up at the iron-gray sky. The KCOW weatherman hadn’t predicted snow, but he could be wrong…again. “Come in and warm up, Barbara.”

  “Do you think it’s going to snow?” Barbara asked, stepping into the warm kitchen and sniffing appreciatively.

  “Maybe. Sit down at the workstation and I’ll get you a cup of coffee. You can be my taste tester for the test batch of Corn Cookies I just baked.”

  “That’s a job I can sink my teeth into,” Barbara quipped, accepting the cookies that Hannah brought her. “These must be for Halloween. They’re cute, Hannah. I like the candy corn on top.”

  Hannah waited until Barbara took a bite, then asked the important question. “Are they good?”

  “Very good. They’ll be perfect for the party.” Barbara took ano
ther bite. “I think he had it with him, Hannah.”

  “Who had what where?” Hannah asked, missing only the when and the why. According to her college journalism professor, the five w’s were the basis of all good reporting.

  “Sheriff Grant. I’ve been thinking about that missing report and I’m almost positive that he took it. There were only two keys to the file cabinet. I had one and Sheriff Grant had the other.”

  “But wouldn’t you have noticed it was missing?” Hannah asked, fetching her steno pad and flipping it open to take notes.

  “Not unless I’d had a reason to look for it. I didn’t go through the files every day.”

  “So you have no idea when Sheriff Grant took it?”

  “None at all,” Barbara shook her head, “but I might know where it is.”

  Hannah’s head snapped back from her notes as if a puppeteer standing above her had pulled a string. “Where do you think it is?”

  “In his briefcase. He always put the important papers in there.”

  “But…wouldn’t Mike have found it?”

  Barbara shook her head again. “Not unless he knew how to open the secret compartment. And I’m almost positive that Sheriff Grant didn’t tell anyone about that.”

  “What secret compartment?”

  “The one in the James Bond briefcase I gave him for Christmas last year. I always bought him James Bond things for gifts. I ordered it from a catalogue.”

  “And it had a secret compartment.” Hannah jotted down a note. “What did it look like, Barbara?”

  “The secret compartment?”

  “No, the briefcase.”

  “It was just an ordinary brown leather briefcase. That’s what was so great about it. You could never tell it had a secret compartment just by looking at it.”

  “So Mike could have found it, searched it, and not realized that something was hidden inside?”

  “That’s certainly possible. The secret compartment is tricky to open and you’d never see the catches if you didn’t know they were there. You have to release them in a certain order.”

  “Do you know how to do it?”

  “Of course I do. I had to help Sheriff Grant figure it out. You just…”

  “I don’t have to know, Barbara,” Hannah said, interrupting her description of the procedure. “If I come across the briefcase, I’ll bring it to you to open. Any ideas on where I might find it?”

  Barbara thought about that for a moment. “If it’s not in his squad car, it has to be in his home office.”

  “Couldn’t it be in his office at the sheriff’s station?”

  “No. I already called there to check.” Barbara held up a hand to cut off Hannah’s question. “Don’t worry. Shawna Lee doesn’t know why I wanted to know. I just told her that she might find some extra keys in Sheriff Grant’s briefcase and she ought to take them out and give them to Mike.”

  Hannah thought about what Barbara had told her. “If the briefcase was in the squad car, Mike must have it. But if it’s in Sheriff Grant’s home office, he probably doesn’t. I’d better go over to Nettie’s and check.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Sheriff Grant’s home office is still taped off. Nettie told me that before she left town.”

  “Nettie’s gone?”

  “She left yesterday morning for Wisconsin. Jim’s youngest sister took it really hard and Nettie went to help her with the kids. She told me she’d be gone at least a week, maybe two.”

  After Barbara left, Hannah baked the rest of the cookies. And while she baked, she thought about how she could get into Nettie’s house to search Sheriff Grant’s home office. By the time she was finished with the baking, she hadn’t come up with a single possibility, and she sighed as she picked up the platter of cookies to carry them out for Lisa and their customers to taste.

  The phone rang just as Hannah was heading for the swinging door and she put the platter down on the counter again to answer it. “The Cookie Jar. This is Hannah speaking.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad I caught you, dear!”

  Hannah came close to groaning. It was Delores and she wasn’t really in the mood to talk to her mother. Still, Delores was her mother and that entitled her to preferential treatment. “Hi, Mother. What can I do for you?”

  “That’s a presumptuous question, Hannah. You’re assuming that I want something from you. What if I don’t want anything at all?”

  “Then I apologize,” Hannah said quickly.

  “That’s better,” Delores said, and her voice sounded much friendlier. “But as it turns out, you were right. I did call to ask you a favor.”

  “Then what can I do for you, Mother?”

  Hannah burst out laughing and so did Delores. It was a rare moment when mother and daughter were on the same wavelength, appreciating each other’s sense of humor.

  “I was wondering if you’d have time to pick up Tracey from Kiddie Korner at five and take her out to The Pumpkin Patch to pick up her costume. I promised Andrea I’d do it, but something came up.”

  “I can do it,” Hannah said, jotting a note so she wouldn’t forget. “Which costume is she getting?”

  “The pirate. Andrea called and put it on reserve for her. And while you’re there, you might want to pick up a costume for yourself, since you’re taking Tracey around on Halloween.”

  “I might just do that,” Hannah said, knowing that saying this would please her mother. She had no intention of renting a costume, not when she had a perfectly good sheet with holes cut out for ghostly eyes.

  “Thank you, Hannah. I really appreciate you doing this for me. It would have been a terrible time crunch if I’d tried to get out there and back before six. And I never would have had time to dress!”

  “Dress for what?” Hannah was curious. As far as she knew, her mother didn’t have any club meetings on Wednesday nights.

  “Ballroom dancing with Winthrop.”

  “Winthrop?” Hannah’s voice was not entirely steady as she echoed the name. “Who’s Winthrop?”

  “Oh, the most marvelous, sophisticated man! He reminds me of Kenneth Branagh. And he’s such a talented dancer.”

  “Winthrop?”

  “Yes, dear. I’ve never danced with Kenneth Branagh.”

  “But you’ve danced with Winthop?”

  “Of course. We waltzed last Wednesday night.”

  “Where?” Hannah asked.

  “At the Red Owl.”

  That stopped Hannah in her tracks for a moment, then she drew a deep breath. “Let me get this straight, Mother. You went dancing at the Red Owl?”

  “That’s right, dear. Winthrop is simply a master at the waltz. I don’t know when I’ve had so much fun!”

  “Okay…” Hannah paused, trying to think of a reasonable response. When one didn’t occur to her, she decided to wing it and tell her mother exactly what she was thinking. “I know they play music for shoppers over the loudspeakers, but I really can’t believe you actually waltzed up and down the aisles with another customer. I’m surprised you didn’t knock down that pyramid of soup cans they put up as a display in the middle of the store!”

  There was silence for a moment. Then Delores started to laugh. She laughed so hard she didn’t seem to notice that Hannah wasn’t joining in.

  “I didn’t dance in the grocery store, Hannah,” Delores said, when she had calmed down a bit. “I danced above the grocery store in Danielle’s studio. That’s just so funny, dear. I can hardly wait to tell Winthrop.”

  Hannah felt like a first-class fool. She’d completely forgotten that Danielle had named her studio the Red Owl Dance Studio. No doubt Delores would have a laugh fest with Winthrop about Hannah’s misconception, but her embarrassment wasn’t the issue here. “You still haven’t told me who Winthrop is, Mother.”

  “He’s another student, dear. Carrie and I signed up for Danielle’s ballroom dancing class and our first lesson was last Wednesday. Poor Carrie got stuck wi
th Earl Flensburg, but I got Winthrop for a partner. Isn’t that just wonderfully lucky for me?”

  “Lucky,” Hannah repeated, suspecting that luck hadn’t had anything to do with it; some kind of dirty dealing had to have gone on. If Winthrop really was as handsome and fleet of foot as her mother had described, Delores would have pulled out all the stops to have him as her partner. Hannah wanted to ask how she finagled that feat, but Delores wouldn’t tell her anyway, so she sighed and settled for saying, “Okay, Mother. You go have fun dancing the waltz with Winthrop tonight.”

  “Oh, it’s the tango tonight, dear. That’s why I need time to get dressed. I bought a darling outfit with slits on both sides of the skirt. I’m going to be the envy of every woman there.”

  “Mmm,” Hannah murmured, settling for the most impartial comment she could make. But after she said goodbye and hung up the phone, she realized that she had the answer to Andrea’s question. Their mother was involved with a man, at least in dancing class. As Hannah pushed open the door to the coffee shop and headed in to rejoin Lisa, she couldn’t quite shake the vision of her mother dancing a sultry tango with a rose held between her teeth.

  CORN COOKIES

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.,

  rack in the middle position

  2 cups white sugar

  1 cup butter (2 sticks, ½ pound)

  1 egg

  1 15-ounce (by weight) can mashed pumpkin (I used Libby’s)

  1 cup chopped walnuts

  1 cup golden raisins

  1 teaspoon cinnamon

  ½ teaspoon cardamom

  1 teaspoon salt

  2 teaspoons vanilla

  2 teaspoons baking soda

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  4 cups flour (no need to sift)

  package of candy corn