Devil’s Food Cake Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “Well, it’s just wonderful that you stopped here to see me!” Grandma Knudson turned to Hannah. “This is Matthew Walters. He lived with Bob’s father and me almost thirty years ago.”

  “My father and mother wanted to go to Africa as missionaries, and they asked Reverend and Mrs. Knudson if I could live with them while they were gone. My uncle and aunt went with them.”

  “That’s right,” Grandma took up the story. “Matthew’s father had a younger brother, and Matthew’s mother had a younger sister. They met at the wedding, fell in love, and got married a year later. They had a son and Matthew’s cousin Paul stayed with us, too.” Grandma Knudson turned to Matthew. “How is Paul? I haven’t heard from him in years.”

  “Paul is …” Matthew stopped speaking and frowned. “I’m not sure how Paul is. We haven’t kept in touch.”

  Grandma Knudson looked surprised. “But why? You were so close when you were young.”

  “I know we were. Since my father and Paul’s father were both ministers with churches only twenty-some miles apart, our families spent a lot of time together. But remember how Paul got into trouble while he was here by breaking into school lockers?”

  “Of course I remember. But he didn’t actually take anything valuable. It was Bill Garrison’s last year as principal, and he told me that Paul was just trying to get attention from the girls by breaking into their lockers and taking little things. He thought it was because you two had spent a lot of time together when you first got here and now that you were dating, Paul felt left out.”

  “That’s what everyone thought, but looking back on it now, I’m afraid it was the start of something bigger, almost like a trial run just to see if he could get away with it.”

  “What makes you think that?” Claire asked.

  Matthew drew a deep breath, and Hannah could see that he was uncomfortable talking about his cousin. “Well…things escalated when our parents finished their mission and Paul’s family moved to Cedar Rapids.”

  “What do you mean, escalated?” Grandma Knudson asked.

  “Let’s just say that Paul didn’t grow up to be an outstanding citizen, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, dear! I was afraid of something like that. Paul didn’t seem the least bit remorseful when I talked to him about the school lockers.” Grandma Knudson gave a sigh, and then she reached out to pat Matthew’s hand. “You don’t have to sugar-coat it for me, Matthew. Did Paul commit a crime?”

  Matthew hesitated briefly, and then he dipped his head. “Yes, he did. I don’t know all the details, but we heard he was serving ten to twenty in a prison in Iowa.”

  “Ten to twenty is a stiff sentence,” Bob remarked. “Your cousin must have done something fairly serious.”

  “It was a burglary gone bad. I had a private detective look into it, and he said Paul got out in five.”

  “But that’s only half of his sentence,” Hannah pointed out.

  “I know. The detective thought it was probably due to prison overcrowding and a reduction in funding. All I really know is that Paul was released and a few days later the trail went cold.”

  “Maybe he learned his lesson and decided to become an honest person,” Claire suggested. “He could have moved to another state and started a new life.”

  “Maybe.”

  Hannah noticed that Matthew didn’t sound at all convinced. It was clear that he didn’t think his cousin was now on the straight and narrow. “What made you hire a private detective?” she asked.

  “My Aunt Sarah was diagnosed with bone cancer. She’s Paul’s mother, and I thought he ought to know, that maybe he’d come home, or write a letter to her, or something. But the detective couldn’t find Paul. There was no trace of him anywhere after he left prison.”

  “Is it possible he changed his name?” Claire asked.

  “He could have done that. The detective told me it’s not that difficult to assume someone else’s identity. For all we know, Paul’s in Mexico, or Canada, or another foreign country living incognito. Or perhaps he’s…it could even be worse.”

  Hannah gave an involuntary shiver. She knew exactly what Matthew meant when he said, it could even be worse.

  “Anyway, everything will work out in the end.” Matthew smiled, but to Hannah’s eyes it looked a bit forced. “I’m just glad to be here with you, Grandma Knudson. This room looks almost the same except…this couch is new, isn’t it?” Matthew reached out to pat the piece of furniture Grandma Knudson had described as a pink monstrosity. “I seem to remember a green couch. It was slippery.”

  “Green taffeta,” Grandma Knudson said, reaching out to touch the pink davenport. “This is it re-covered. And after that it was cream-colored silk. That didn’t last long. Then it was forest green voile. That was the best. And now there’s this…pink!”

  Hannah laughed. She couldn’t help it. Grandma Knudson spit out the word as if it were a bug that had flown in her open mouth.

  “I’m so glad I ran into Bob at the hospital,” Matthew said, smiling at Grandma Knudson. “I stopped to say hello to Doc Knight, and he introduced us. And then I met Claire and learned that they were newlyweds. We’re going to have plenty of time to catch up on old times, Grandma.”

  “What do you mean?” Grandma Knudson asked.

  “I’ll be right here for the next two weeks. I promised I’d take over Bob’s pastoral duties for two weeks so that he can take Claire on a real honeymoon.”

  A delighted smile spread over Grandma Knudson’s face. “Why, that’s just wonderful! And it’s so kind of you to offer to help out here. But can the seminary spare you for that long?”

  “They’re sparing me for longer than that. I’m on a four month sabbatical.” Matthew turned to smile at them all and then he turned back to Grandma Knudson. “Now how about some of that coffee and cake? Bob’s been telling me how good your Red Devil’s Food Cake is.”

  “That’s because it’s Bob’s favorite. It always has been, ever since he was a little boy. And I’ve got some Lemon Poppyseed Cake for you, Matthew.”

  “That sounds good, but I’d rather have the devil’s food.” Matthew gave a little chuckle. “I’d better not let anyone at the seminary hear me saying that, though!”

  Everyone except Grandma Knudson laughed. Hannah turned to look at her elderly friend and found her staring at Matthew in shock. “What’s the matter?” Hannah asked her.

  “Matthew can’t have chocolate. He’s allergic. It’ll make him break out in hives.”

  “Not anymore,” Matthew told her. “I outgrew my chocolate allergy. I’ve been eating chocolate for twenty years now, and it’s my favorite flavor. Corrine, my secretary at the seminary, says I eat so much chocolate because I’m making up for lost time.”

  Shortly after she’d helped Claire serve coffee and cake, Hannah excused herself and hurried back to her downtown cookie shop. Once she’d parked her candy apple red Suburban in her regular parking spot in back of the bakery and had plugged in the heater that kept the fluids from freezing on this cold winter day, she dashed into the kitchen and almost upended her diminutive partner, Lisa Herman Beeseman.

  “Sorry,” Hannah said, reaching out with both arms to steady Lisa, who’d been taking cool cookies from the baker’s rack.

  “That’s okay. I’m just glad I didn’t spill any cookies. We’re running low today.”

  “Then I’ll bake more.” Hannah grabbed her apron, tied it on, and went to the sink to wash her hands. “What’s the favorite today?”

  “Butterscotch Bonanza Bars. I’ll go get out the butterscotch chips.”

  “But there aren’t any butterscotch chips in Butterscotch Bonanza Bars.”

  “I know there aren’t usually, but we need to add them to this batch. I made a mistake this morning when I mixed up the bars, and I put in two cups of butterscotch chips without thinking. Bertie Straub liked them so much, she wants to buy a whole batch for her clients at the Cut ’n Curl.”

  “Okay. Whatever Bertie wants,
Bertie gets.”

  “That’s what I figured. Do you want to go up front while I bake? Or would you rather do it the other way around?”

  “The other way around. I’ll bake and you wait tables.”

  “That’s fine with me. Marge and Dad are probably ready for a break anyway. Did you get the recipe from Grandma Knudson?”

  “Yes. I’ll test it tomorrow afternoon. I had a slice up at the parsonage, and it was even better than I remembered from the last church supper.”

  “How’s Grandma Knudson doing?”

  “Really well. She’s completely recovered from the stroke, and she’s as sharp as ever. She’s especially excited about Claire and Bob’s honeymoon. They’re leaving on Sunday, right after church.”

  “But I thought they couldn’t go until the church sent someone to fill in for Bob.”

  “They’ve got someone. While Claire and Bob were making rounds at the hospital, they ran into another Lutheran minister, Matthew Walters. It turns out he lived with Grandma Knudson and her husband for a whole year while his parents were doing missionary work. When Reverend Matthew found out that Bob and Claire had just gotten married and they were waiting for the seminary to send a substitute minister so that they could go on their honeymoon, he offered to take over for Bob so that they could leave now.”

  “How nice! Where are Bob and Claire going?”

  “Hawaii. When I left the parsonage, Bob was making reservations for a fourteen-day cruise. They leave at noon, drive to the airport, fly to Los Angeles, and hop on a cruise ship that sails that night.”

  “But how about Claire’s shop? Who’s going to mind it while she’s gone?”

  “Mother.”

  Lisa, who’d picked up the cookie jar she’d filled and was heading toward the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the coffee shop, turned back with a shocked expression. “You mean…your mother?”

  “That’s right. It’s only three doors down from Granny’s Attic and Carrie and Luanne can handle that. Mother’s completely psyched about choosing the right outfits for Lake Eden women.”

  “She does have good fashion sense,” Lisa said, but she didn’t sound very confident. “Do you think that asking your mother to take over for Claire is the right choice?”

  “Heavens no! It’s the completely wrong choice. When Claire told me she’d already called and asked Mother, I just about had a cow!”

  “You don’t think your mother can do it?”

  “Mother? Are you kidding? She’s hypercritical and she has no tact. I predict that Beau Monde’s business is going to fall off drastically unless Mother wears a muzzle.”

  Lisa’s eyes widened, and then she shook her head slightly. “Come on, Hannah. You know you don’t mean that. You’re just kidding around, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not kidding around.” Hannah began to frown. Now Lisa was winking with one eye and then the other as if she were some kind of blinking traffic signal. Had her business partner suddenly developed a facial tic? “Let’s be serious, Lisa. You know Mother. Just think about what would happen if Mother was behind the counter at Beau Monde and Betty Jackson walked in to buy a dress.”

  “I’m sure your mother would do her best to find something that looked good on Betty.”

  “Maybe, but if Betty dared to say anything about how Claire didn’t carry much of a selection in her size, Mother would be all over it like a duck on a June bug.”

  “But I’m sure she wouldn’t …”

  “Yes, she would,” Hannah interrupted. “Mother would say that nobody made anything stylish in Betty’s size and Betty would look a lot better if she lost some weight.”

  “Your mother wouldn’t be that mean!”

  “Oh, she wouldn’t say it to be mean. It’s just that Mother believes in saying exactly what’s on her mind.” Hannah stopped speaking and stared hard at Lisa, who was making all sorts of strange faces at her. “What’s wrong with you, Lisa?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with Lisa,” Delores Swensen answered, coming up behind her eldest daughter and giving her a none-too-gentle tap on the shoulder.

  Hannah gasped, whirling around to face the matriarch of the Swensen clan. As usual, Delores Swensen was dressed in the height of fashion. Today she wore a cherry red wool suit with jet black buttons, and a cherry-red-and-black silk scarf draped artistically around her neck. The effect was one of sleek elegance and beauty. No one meeting her for the first time would ever guess that she was approaching her sixtieth birthday.

  “Mother!” Hannah gulped, not failing to notice that her mother’s lovely visage was hampered by the scowl between her perfectly shaped eyebrows. The two spots of bright color just below her cheekbones, obviously caused by anger at her daughter, didn’t help, either.

  “Yes, Mother,” Delores answered, glaring at Hannah. “Now I want you to explain exactly what you meant when you said I was hypercritical and I had no tact!”

  If backpedaling were an art form, Hannah would have been hailed as the next Rembrandt. Hannah had insisted that she’d never intended to hurt her mother’s feelings, and Delores had readily conceded that she wasn’t as practiced as she could be in the diplomacy department. The air was clear again.

  “So what shall I do?” Delores asked the daughter who’d only moments before been her nemesis.

  “I don’t know,” Hannah replied, not willing to risk a reply that might make her into her mother’s adversary again.

  “I hate to back out now, not when I promised Claire, but do you think I should tell her I can’t do it?”

  “No. All we have to do is think of someone who can help you.”

  “Who?” Delores looked completely mystified. “It has to be someone who’s up on fashion trends. I’m sure Carrie would agree to do it, but she really doesn’t know that much about fashion. We could spare Luanne, but she doesn’t pay that much attention to fashion, either. And it has to be someone who’s got a good eye.”

  “A good eye?”

  “For size and for what will complement the customer’s shape. For instance, you couldn’t recommend that Laura Vavra dress in something severely tailored. It’s much too harsh a look for her. She’s all gentle curves and swirls. And Rose McDermott has to be careful of large bright flowers. It makes her look like a buffet for a bumblebee.”

  Hannah burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. And after a moment, Delores joined in. When the image of Rose and the bumblebees had faded, Hannah turned serious again. “I think maybe I was wrong. You’d be really good at recommending the right dress, Mother.”

  “I know. I’d be good at it, but no one would buy it, because I’d say something to spoil the sale. Don’t forget, I have no tact.”

  “Maybe I was wrong about that, too.”

  “You weren’t wrong. I know that’s one of my failings, but when anyone asks for my honest opinion, I give it. And I don’t mince words. That isn’t a good trait to have if you’re in retail sales.”

  “True,” Hannah agreed. “So we need someone with fashion smarts, plenty of tact, and good salesmanship. That really doesn’t sound like anyone I know.”

  “I can’t think of anyone, either.”

  Mother and daughter turned as the kitchen door opened and Hannah’s sister, Andrea, stepped in.

  “Brrr! It’s got to be way below zero with the wind chill.” Andrea walked over to hang her coat on the hooks by the door. “Hi, Mother. Hi, Hannah. I came in for a quick cup of coffee.”

  Delores and Hannah exchanged glances. Hannah’s glance said, Andrea knows more about fashion than any other woman in Lake Eden. With the possible exception of you, of course.

  And Delores’s glance said, She’s got tact and she’s a super salesman. Bill always said she could sell kitty litter to a nomad.

  “What?” Andrea asked, reacting to the long glance that her sister and mother exchanged and the nods they gave to each other.

  “Coffee,” Hannah said, fetching it quickly and settling her younger sister on a stool at the
stainless steel workstation.

  “And new business,” Delores declared, taking the stool directly across from Andrea.

  “Cookies?” Andrea queried.

  “Chocolate,” Delores suggested.

  “Coming right up.” Hannah wasted no time in placing a half-dozen Brownies Plus cookie bars on a plate and serving her mother and sister.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, dear,” Delores said, reaching out to pat Andrea’s hand.

  Andrea looked wary. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “The opportunity of a lifetime. How would you like to increase your wardrobe by twelve Beau Monde dresses in the next two weeks?”

  Andrea’s wariness quickly turned into suspicion. “What do I have to do? Kill somebody?”

  “Not at all.” Delores gave her a wide smile. “Just listen carefully. I’ve got a real deal for you!”

  Chapter Three

  Hannah had no doubt that Andrea would take their mother up on her offer, and Andrea proved her right. Once Hannah’s sister had agreed to join their mother at Beau Monde and help to deal with Claire’s customers, Delores got up from her stool.

  “Sorry, dears,” she said, heading toward the door. “I really have to run now. Carrie’s expecting me to cover her lunch break, and I’m already five minutes late.” By that time, she’d arrived at the door, but she made no move to turn the knob. Instead, she turned back to address Hannah. “I probably should have saved one of those cookie bars for her. You know how much she loves your cookies. Every time I bring her something you baked, it puts her in a good mood. But you know how much I love chocolate. Those cookie bars were so marvelous, I just couldn’t seem to stop eating them.”

  Hannah knew a hint when she heard one and this one was blatant. “I’ll box some up for you and Carrie,” she said obediently, getting up to do just that. “Will a half-dozen do?”

  “Oh my, yes. Carrie will be thrilled that you thought of her.”

  “Right,” Hannah said, flipping one of her bakery boxes open and lining it with a sheet of wax paper. She arranged six Brownies Plus cookie bars in the bottom, covered them with another piece of wax paper, and secured the lid.