Plum Pudding Murder Bundle with Candy Cane Murder & Sugar Cookie Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  Hannah thought about it for a second or two and then she caved. That little quaver in her mother’s voice always got to her. “All right, Mother. I won’t lie if Winthrop asks me straight out, but as long as he doesn’t, I’ll play along.”

  “Thank you, dear! And now I’d better rush. Carrie’s picking me up in ten minutes and I still have to do my makeup.”

  Hannah said her goodbyes and hung up, but the moment she placed the phone back in the cradle it rang again. “Mother,” she muttered, grabbing for the phone. Delores often called back immediately if she’d forgotten to say something she felt was important.

  “What is it, Mother?” Hannah asked, not bothering with a greeting. She had to leave her condo soon or she’d be late for work.

  “I’m not your mother,” a male voice replied, chuckling slightly. “It’s Mike.”

  Hannah sat down in her chair with a thunk. Hearing Mike Kingston’s voice always made her knees turn weak and her heart beat faster, but she took a deep breath and tried to ignore it.

  “I called to find out who’s testing my pâté tonight.”

  Hannah took another deep breath and fought her urge to cave in without a whimper. Tall, rugged, and more handsome than any man had a right to be, Mike wasn’t easy to deny. “I can’t tell you. You know the rules. The recipe tester has to remain anonymous. Otherwise there could be hard feelings.”

  “But I really need to know. I might have forgotten to put something in the recipe.”

  “What?” Hannah asked. She remembered Mike’s recipe and there were only two ingredients.

  “I need to make sure I wrote down horseradish sauce and not just horseradish. If the tester uses straight horseradish, it’ll be too spicy for some people.”

  “No problem, Mike,” Hannah’s response was immediate. “You specified horseradish sauce.”

  “But how do you know, unless…you’re testing it!”

  Hannah groaned softly under her breath. Mike was the head detective at the Winnetka County Sheriff’s Department, and he’d picked up on her blunder right away. “Uh…I can’t confirm or deny that.”

  “Of course you can’t, but thanks for putting my mind at ease about that horseradish sauce. How about tonight? Do you want me to pick you up?”

  “I think it’d be better if we met at the community center. I’m going to leave work around three, head home to get dressed and pick up the food I’m bringing, and get there early to make sure Edna has all the help she needs in the kitchen.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you there.”

  Was that a sigh of relief she’d just heard in Mike’s voice? “You sound happy that you don’t have to pick me up.”

  “It’s not that. I’d pick you up if you needed me. It’s just that Shawna Lee asked me if I’d take her to the party.”

  Hannah closed her eyes and counted to ten. Shawna Lee Quinn had been Mike’s secretary in Minneapolis and he’d convinced her to follow him to Lake Eden. She’d landed a job at the Winnetka Sheriff’s Department and Mike had found her an apartment in the complex where he lived. He insisted that they were just friends, and Hannah had done her best not to be jealous, but it was difficult to stave off the green-eyed monster when the Southern beauty who’d been crowned Miss Atlanta called Mike every time her car wouldn’t start.

  “Hannah? Is something wrong?”

  Hannah took a deep breath and forced herself to be calm. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought we had a date.”

  “We do. I’m just giving Shawna Lee a lift there, that’s all. She’s meeting someone and she’s got her own way home.”

  “Oh. Well…okay,” Hannah said, hoping that the person Shawna Lee was meeting would show up and she wouldn’t turn out to be a third wheel on their date.

  “You’re really a nice person, Hannah.”

  “What brought that on?” Hannah asked and immediately wished she hadn’t. She’d broken one of her mother’s cardinal rules: If a man compliments you, don’t argue with him. Just smile and say thank you.

  “Shawna Lee told me you accepted her brownie recipe for the cookbook.”

  “That’s right. The person who tested it thought her brownies were really good.”

  “But you had the power to veto it and you didn’t.”

  Hannah hoped Mike would never find out how close she’d come to relegating Shawna Lee’s recipe to the circular file. As the “author” of the Lake Eden potluck cookbook and the head of the cookbook committee, Hannah had the power to accept or reject as she saw fit. The only thing that had stopped her in Shawna Lee’s case was the fear that someone might find out and accuse her of being petty. “Of course I didn’t use my veto. Why would I veto a perfectly good recipe?”

  Mike chuckled, and Hannah felt her toes tingle. It was an intimate chuckle, one that should be heard up close and personal, not transmitted over telephone wires. “Have you tasted those brownies yet?”

  “Not yet.” Hannah’s eyebrows began to knit, but she stopped in mid-frown. The magazine she’d paged through in the supermarket line had warned that frowns caused wrinkles in women over thirty, and she’d passed the three decade mark a couple of months ago.

  “They’re the best brownies I’ve ever tasted, and I’ve tasted a lot. I told Shawna Lee she should call them hot brownies.”

  “Hot brownies?”

  “Yeah. Hot as in ‘terrific’ not hot from the stove. You know what I mean?”

  “I get it.”

  “Anyway, they’re definitely hot, and if I work it just right, I might be able to talk her into letting you add them to your menu, especially if you call them Shawna Lee’s Brownies. What do you think about that?”

  “Impressive,” Hannah said, envisioning the anvil she’d like to impress into the top of Mike’s head. Bake Shawna Lee’s brownies for her shop? Not a chance!

  Five minutes later, Hannah was still sitting at her kitchen table, staring down into her half-filled and rapidly cooling coffee mug. Hot brownies. The best Mike had ever tasted. The slow burn she’d started to do when Mike had first uttered those words had grown into a sizable conflagration. If Mike liked hot brownies so much, she’d give him hot brownies. They wouldn’t be “hot” as in “terrific.” And they wouldn’t be “hot” from the stove. Her brownies would be “hot” as in “five-alarm-chili-hot” and she could hardly wait to hear Mike yowl when he bit into one!

  Chapter Two

  “Hi, Hannah,” Lisa Herman called out as she came in the back door at The Cookie Jar. “It’s really snowing out there. I had to brush off the whole top of the…what’s that?”

  Hannah glanced up at her young partner and started to laugh. Lisa looked absolutely horrified at the sight of the box of brownie mix Hannah had just upended into her bowl. “It’s brownie mix.”

  “I can see that. But why are you using it?”

  “Mike called me this morning and he told me all about Shawna Lee Quinn’s brownies. He said they were hot as in terrific. I thought about it after I hung up and I decided I should make him some of my hot brownies.”

  “Okay. But I still don’t understand why you’re using…” Lisa stopped speaking as Hannah picked up an open can of diced jalapeño peppers and dumped them into the bowl. She blinked a couple of times as if she couldn’t believe her eyes, and then she laughed. “I get it. Hot brownies.”

  “Very hot. And I didn’t want to waste time and effort baking something that Mike’s going to trash ten seconds after he tastes it.”

  Lisa picked up the empty can and took a sniff. Then she immediately grabbed for a paper towel to dab at the tears that were beginning to run down her cheeks. “One sniff and my eyes are watering. Those must be some really potent peppers.”

  “Florence said they were,” Hannah named the woman who owned the Lake Eden Red Owl grocery. “She told me she put one can in a pot of chili and it was so hot, nobody could eat it.”

  Lisa hung up her coat, switched from her boots to her shoes, and headed for the sink to wash her hands. “Are you go
ing to call Mike and have him come here to taste them?”

  “No way! He’s armed, you know. I’ll just run them out to the sheriff’s station and leave them for him.”

  “Anonymously?”

  “That would be my choice, but he’s a good detective. He’d figure out who sent them. I’ll just drop them off at the front desk and come straight back here.”

  “Sounds like a wise decision,” Lisa said, rolling her apron up at the waist and tying it in place by wrapping the strings around her twice. She was petite, and the chef’s aprons were designed for someone Hannah’s size. “What do you want me to do first?”

  “You can check the cake in the cooler. I need to see if the raspberry Jell-O is set.”

  “Raspberry Jell-O?”

  Hannah glanced up at Lisa. It was clear from the expression on her face that she was thoroughly mystified. “It’s Andrea’s recipe for Jell-O Cake, and it needs two different colors of Jell-O. She got it in late, but I promised I’d bake it and test it at the party tonight.”

  “So you’re going to put it in the cookbook?”

  Hannah sighed deeply. “I’ll have to include it if it turns out all right. It’s a family obligation, you know?”

  “I know all about family obligations. I barely managed to keep Dad from submitting his father’s catfish bait recipe.”

  “He should have done it. I would have put it in.”

  Lisa’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You’re kidding!”

  “No, I’m not. Tell him I want it. As far as I’m concerned, every book needs a sprinkling of humor.”

  “Even a cookbook?”

  “Especially a cookbook. All the recipes are so precise. I miss those days when it was a pinch of salt, a smidgen of pepper, and a snippet of parsley. Of course that was before Fanny Farmer standardized level cooking measurements.”

  Lisa turned to Hannah with surprise. “I didn’t know Fanny Farmer did that! And she was from Minnesota! So was Betty Crocker.”

  “Actually, Betty Crocker wasn’t from anywhere. It’s the name General Mills came up with to market their first cookbook. But General Mills is based in Minnesota so I guess you could say they both came from here.”

  “Good. I love it when important people besides Sinclair Lewis come from Minnesota.”

  Hannah blinked. What Lisa said was a jump in logic. “You’ve got something against Sinclair Lewis?”

  “Not really. I realize he’s important, but his books are depressing. I’m already living depressing. My mother’s dead, my dad’s got Alzheimer’s, and the wedding’s off.”

  “Whoa!” Hannah pushed Lisa down on a stool at the workstation and made an end run to the kitchen coffeepot. This was a crisis. “What’s this about the wedding? Did you have a fight with Herb?”

  “Of course not. I love Herb and he loves me. That’s not the problem.”

  “What is?” Hannah filled two mugs, put one down in front of Lisa, and sat down on the opposite stool.

  “It’s a matter of timing. Herb and I talked about it last night and we both agreed to call off the wedding.”

  “For good? I mean, you don’t have to tell me if it’s too personal, but…”

  “It’s not personal,” Lisa interrupted her. “And no, it’s not off for good. We just decided to wait to get married until everything’s settled with Dad.”

  “He’s okay, isn’t he?” Hannah felt a quick jolt of fear. Lisa adored her father and she’d given up her college scholarship to stay home and take care of him.

  “Dad’s fine. It’s just that Marge found a new doctor for him, a really good neurologist, and he was accepted in a new drug-testing program. It’s some kind of cocktail thing, three drugs that work together to boost a brain-signaling chemical that improves memory. Dad’s all excited about it, but the only thing is, the study starts this coming Monday and it lasts for two months. Herb and I didn’t think it was fair for us to get married in the middle of the program, especially since we’ll be switching houses and all.”

  “That makes sense,” Hannah said, breathing a sigh of relief. As far as she was concerned, Lisa and Herb made a perfect couple. And Herb’s mother, Marge Beeseman, was really stepping into the breach to help with Lisa’s dad. She was giving them her house as a wedding present and she was moving into Jack Herman’s home to become his caretaker. And even though Marge was a widow and Jack was a widower and they used to date in high school, no one in town was saying boo about the living arrangements. “So when do you think you’ll get married?”

  Lisa looked down at her engagement ring and gave a little smile. “We’re shooting for the middle of February. That’s when Dad’s test program is over. But instead of a big wedding, we’re just going to run down to the courthouse.”

  “Not fair,” Hannah said, getting up to stash her crock full of meatballs in the cooler and making a mental note to take it down to the community center at noon and let it cook until time for the party.

  “What’s not fair?”

  “Your dad told me he was looking forward to walking you down the aisle. And Tracey’s all excited about being your flower girl. Not only that, your bridesmaids already ordered their dresses.”

  “I know.” Lisa looked worried. “Herb and I talked about that and we decided we’d pay everybody back. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “It’s not?”

  Hannah shook her head. “Nobody would take your money, and that’s not the point anyway. Everybody’s looking forward to seeing you marry Herb. Why don’t you just postpone the wedding until the middle of February?”

  “I always wanted to get married on Valentine’s Day,” Lisa sounded wistful, “but it’s impossible, Hannah. I want to be with Dad while he’s going through the clinical trials, and I won’t have time to make all the arrangements.”

  “No problem. Just ask Andrea to do everything for you. She loves to plan weddings.”

  “But she’ll be busy with the new baby.”

  “No, she won’t. She told me she hired ‘Grandma’ McCann to come in during the week, just like she did when Tracey was born, and Al gave her three months maternity leave. Andrea’s going to have nothing but time on her hands, and she’ll be so bored, you’ll be doing her a favor.”

  “Do you think so?” Lisa’s smile was pure golden.

  “I think so.”

  “It would be just wonderful if all we had to do was show up for the ceremony. That’s my idea of a perfect wedding. But…are you sure Andrea would be willing to take on a big job like that?”

  “Wild horses couldn’t stop her,” Hannah said. “I’ll call her just as soon as we’re through here.”

  “Is Andrea coming to the party tonight?”

  “I hope so. She’s got an appointment with Doc Knight this morning and she’s going to try to talk him into letting her go.”

  “I’ve got my fingers crossed for her. She’s probably going stir-crazy at home with her feet up on pillows. I want to work right up until they rush me off to the delivery room.”

  Hannah turned to give Lisa a sharp look. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

  “Of course not! Herb and I aren’t even married yet.”

  “Marriage isn’t always a prerequisite for parenthood.”

  “Maybe not for some people, but it is for me,” Lisa said. “I’ll get that cake and see if the Jell-O’s set.”

  Hannah kicked herself mentally as Lisa ducked into the walk-in cooler to retrieve the cake. It was clear that she’d stepped over the line into an area Lisa didn’t want to discuss, and this was her partner’s way of changing the subject.

  “The Jell-O’s set,” Lisa announced, carrying the cake to the workstation. “Do you want me to finish making it for you?”

  “That would be great. The recipe’s on the counter.”

  Lisa set down the cake and glanced through the recipe. “This sounds really good.”

  “It is. Andrea always makes it for Tracey’s birthday. I
t’s the one time of year she uses her oven.”

  “It must be strange having a sister who doesn’t cook.”

  “Not really,” Hannah said with a shrug. She’d gotten quite accustomed to being the baker in the family. Delores didn’t “do” desserts, and Andrea avoided the oven with a passion. The only other member of the family who showed signs of inheriting Grandma Ingrid’s love of baking was Hannah’s youngest sister, Michelle. She was constantly calling Hannah for recipes to try out on her college roommates.

  Lisa stuck some water on to boil and opened the lemon Jell-O packet. “When I’m done with this, I’ll do the baking for the day. You can concentrate on the recipes you have left to test for tonight.”

  Hannah gave her a grateful smile. Lisa was only nineteen, but she was more responsible than others who were twice her age. Hannah had never regretted the day, only a little over a year ago, when she’d offered her diminutive assistant a partnership in The Cookie Jar.

  Once the baking was done and Hannah had returned from her run to the sheriff’s station with the brownies for Mike, Lisa and Hannah settled down in the back booth of the coffee shop with fresh mugs of coffee.

  “So what did Mike say when you gave him the brownies?” Lisa asked.

  “He wasn’t there. I just wrote a quick note, put them on his desk, and came straight back here.”

  “I wonder what time we should start hiding.”

  Hannah laughed. “Not before noon. I checked with Barbara and she thought he’d be out in the field all morning. If he does come back early and he charges in here, he’ll be so bowled over by your decorations, he’ll forget all about being mad.”

  “You like them?”

  “They’re even better than last year. I never would have thought to paint Christmas designs on the mirror with Glass Wax and powdered tempera.”

  “It’s just an idea I got from a magazine. When you wash it off, it cleans the mirror at the same time.”

  “Well, it makes the whole place look fantastic.” Hannah glanced up at the silver and gold streamers Lisa had hung from the ceiling and admired how nicely they fluttered as the ceiling fans whirred softly overhead. She’d even hung mistletoe from the pull chains, a little extra that Hannah hadn’t noticed when she’d first seen the decorations. “It’s a good thing Moishe isn’t here.”