Raspberry Danish Murder Read online

  Books by Joanne Fluke

  Hannah Swensen Mysteries

  CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE MURDER

  STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE MURDER

  BLUEBERRY MUFFIN MURDER

  LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER

  FUDGE CUPCAKE MURDER

  SUGAR COOKIE MURDER

  PEACH COBBLER MURDER

  CHERRY CHEESECAKE MURDER

  KEY LIME PIE MURDER

  CANDY CANE MURDER

  CARROT CAKE MURDER

  CREAM PUFF MURDER

  PLUM PUDDING MURDER

  APPLE TURNOVER MURDER

  DEVIL’S FOOD CAKE MURDER

  GINGERBREAD COOKIE MURDER

  CINNAMON ROLL MURDER

  RED VELVET CUPCAKE MURDER

  BLACKBERRY PIE MURDER

  DOUBLE FUDGE BROWNIE MURDER

  WEDDING CAKE MURDER

  CHRISTMAS CARAMEL MURDER

  BANANA CREAM PIE MURDER

  RASPBERRY DANISH MURDER

  JOANNE FLUKE’S LAKE EDEN COOKBOOK

  Suspense Novels

  VIDEO KILL

  WINTER CHILL

  DEAD GIVEAWAY

  THE OTHER CHILD

  COLD JUDGMENT

  FATAL IDENTITY

  FINAL APPEAL

  VENGEANCE IS MINE

  EYES

  WICKED

  DEADLY MEMORIES

  THE STEPCHILD

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  RASPBERRY DANISH MURDER

  JOANNE FLUKE

  KENSINGTON BOOKS

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Books by Joanne Fluke

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Raspberry Danish Murder Recipe Index

  Baking Conversion Chart

  Teaser chapter

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2018 by H.L. Swensen, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  Library of Congress Card Catalogue Number: 2017951261

  ISBN: 978-1-6177-3224-9

  First Kensington Hardcover Edition: March 2018

  eISBN-13: 978-1-61773-225-6

  eISBN-10: 1-61773-225-7

  First Kensington Electronic Edition: March 2018

  This Hannah book is for John.

  I couldn’t have written it without him.

  Acknowledgments:

  Heartfelt thanks to Doctor Richard Niemeyer, our

  “Doc Hockey.”

  John and I will miss you so much.

  (And so will Doc Knight.)

  Hugs and kisses to my family for their patience

  when I’m on deadline.

  An extra cookie for all of you!

  Hugs to Trudi Nash for going on all those book

  tours with me and doing countless things to help. Thanks

  for being able to identify ingredients simply by tasting something

  we like and helping me create a recipe to make it.

  And more important than anything, thanks for being

  my friend.

  Thank you to my friends and neighbors: Mel & Kurt,

  Lyn & Bill, Gina, Dee Appleton, Jay, Richard Jordan,

  Laura Levine, the real Nancy and Heiti, Dr. Bob & Sue,

  Dan, Mark & Mandy at Faux Library, Daryl and her

  staff at Groves Accountancy, Gene and Ron at SDSA,

  and everyone at Homestreet Bank.

  Hugs to Richard Jordan for going on tour with me

  for Banana Cream Pie Murder. You were great company

  and a big help.

  Thanks to Brad, Eric, Amanda, Lorenzo, and Meg

  for Just Desserts.

  Hello to my Minnesota friends: Lois & Neal, Bev & Jim,

  Lois & Jack, Val, Ruthann, Lowell, Dorothy & Sister Sue,

  and Mary & Jim.

  A big thank you to my brilliant editor,

  John Scognamiglio.

  Thanks to all the wonderful folks at Kensington

  Publishing who keep Hannah sleuthing and baking

  yummy goodies.

  And a special thank you to Robin, who makes

  everything perfect.

  Thanks to Meg Ruley and the staff at the Jane Rotrosen

  Agency for their constant support and their sage advice.

  Thanks to Hiro Kimura, my talented cover artist,

  for his delicious cover art.

  (No, you can’t eat that Raspberry Danish!)

  Thank you to Lou Malcangi at Kensington for designing

  Hannah’s gorgeous book covers. They’re always just perfect.

  Thanks to John at Placed4Success.com for Hannah’s

  movie and TV placements, his presence on Hannah’s social

  media platform, the countless hours he spends helping me,

  and for always being there for me.

  Thanks to Rudy for managing my website at

  www.JoanneFluke.com and for giving support to

  Hannah’s social media. And thanks to Annie for help with

  social media and everything else.

  Big thanks to Kathy Allen for the final testing of the

  recipes. And thanks to Kathy’s friends and family for

  taste testing.

  A big hug to JQ for helping Hannah and me for

  so many years.

  Hugs to Beth for her gorgeous embroidery and for telling

  me about the “Moishe flop.”

  Thank you to food stylist, friend, and media guide Lois

  Brown for her invaluable assistance with the launch parties

  at Poisoned Pen and the TV baking segments in Phoenix.

  Hugs to the Double D’s and everyone on Team Swensen

  and the Hannah Maniacs who help to keep Hannah’s

  Facebook presence alive and well.

  Thank you to Dr. Rahhal, Dr. and Cathy Line,

  Dr. Wallen, Dr. Koslowski, and Drs. Ashley and Lee for

  answering my book-related medical and dental questions.

  Grateful thanks to all of the Hannah fans who share

  their family recipes, post on my Facebook page, Joanne

  Fluke Author, and read Hannah mysteries.

  This one’s for you!

  Chapter One

  Hannah Swens
en Barton glanced at the clock in the bedroom that she now slept in alone. There were tears in her eyes as she put on her warmest sweater. Her new husband, Ross Barton, had been gone for two weeks now and even though her youngest sister, Michelle, was staying with her at the condo, Hannah still felt terribly alone. It was easier during the day. When the sun had risen and it was no longer time to cuddle with Ross on their new couches or sleep beside him in their new king-size bed, she managed to convince herself that everything was going to be all right, that Ross was planning to come back to her. Then, with the sun shining brightly, it was possible to believe that the reason he’d taken their condo key and left all his other keys behind was proof that he planned to come home. But now, at five in the morning after spending a restless night, it was doubly difficult to convince herself that all would be well if she just waited patiently.

  “Keep a positive attitude,” she said aloud to her image in the mirror. “Ross will be home very soon and he’ll explain everything.” The words she spoke formed the mantra that she repeated every morning, even though she was fast losing hope. There had been no phone calls from Ross at The Cookie Jar, her bakery and coffee shop in Lake Eden, Minnesota, and no calls at night at their condo. She had no clue to his whereabouts or the reason he had left in the first place. It was as if her new husband had disappeared off the face of the earth and vanished into thin air without a trace.

  A tear rolled down Hannah’s cheek and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. It was a good thing she didn’t wear makeup because the tears she’d shed during the long days and nights would have surely ruined it. As she picked up her hairbrush and attempted to tame her unruly red curls, she wondered if her appearance was at fault for Ross’s defection. If she’d worn perfect makeup like her mother, Delores, and her fashionable sister, Andrea, would Ross still be with her? And if she’d been born with beautiful hair that looked cute in any style like her youngest sister, Michelle, would he be watching her admiringly as she got ready for work? Perhaps she should have tried harder to lose weight so that she could attain a perfect figure like the rest of the women in her family.

  “If he’d just told me what was wrong, I could have fixed it,” she told Moishe, turning to face her twenty-three pound, orange and white cat, who was nestled on Ross’s pillow.

  “Rowwww!” Moishe responded, and to Hannah’s eyes, he looked outraged at the critical direction her mind was taking.

  “Sorry, Moishe,” she said, walking over to the bed to give him several comforting scratches and pats. “It’s just that I keep trying to find answers and there aren’t any.”

  “Rrrrrow,” Moishe yowled again, and Hannah interpreted his response as an expression of sympathy. She was sure that Moishe missed Ross, too.

  “I have to leave for work now,” she told him. “But don’t worry. Michelle and I will be back home in time to feed you your dinner.”

  Hannah shrugged into her parka and left the bedroom. She was just passing the guest room door as Michelle came out. Her youngest sister was holding a key ring in her hand. “Are these keys yours, Hannah?” she asked, handing them to Hannah.

  Hannah examined the keys and shook her head. “They’re not mine, but they look like the keys to Ross’s car. I knew they must be here somewhere since it’s still in his parking space. Where did you find them?”

  “They were in the top drawer of the dresser in the guest room. They were sitting right on top of my warmest winter scarf. I never would have found them if I hadn’t decided to use that scarf this morning.”

  “Well, I’m glad. I never thought to look there.”

  “That’s understandable. I was really surprised when I found them. Why did Ross put them there?”

  Hannah began to smile as her mind latched on to the obvious conclusion. “It’s simple, Michelle. Ross wanted you to drive his car while he was gone. There’s no other explanation.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “The more I think about it, the more positive I am. He took the time to go into your room and put his car keys in your dresser drawer. There’s no other reason he would have done that.”

  Michelle still looked doubtful. “But how do you feel about it? Do you want me to use Ross’s car?”

  “Why not? It should be driven. If it just sits there, it’s not going to start when Ross comes home. He obviously wanted you to keep his car running for him.”

  “Well . . . if you’re sure . . .”

  “I’m sure.”

  Michelle began to smile. “I was going to ask Mother if I could borrow her car, but now I won’t have to do that. It’s a big relief!”

  “Because Mother would say yes, but then she’d figure out some way to make you pay a couple of pounds of favors for the privilege?”

  “Exactly!” Michelle headed toward the rug by the door where they kept their winter boots. She pulled on hers and then she slipped her shoes in the tote bag she was carrying.

  “Take your time, Hannah,” she said as she opened the outside door. “I’ll help Lisa bake the dough we mixed up last night and get things ready in the coffee shop. Have another cup of coffee before you leave, and enjoy being a lady of leisure for a change.”

  “Thanks,” Hannah said as Michelle went out and closed the door behind her. Then she shrugged out of her parka, draped it over the back of the couch, and went into the kitchen to pour herself another cup of coffee. The coffee was still hot enough to drink without reheating.

  “A lady of leisure,” she repeated Michelle’s phrase to Moishe, who had followed her into the kitchen and seemed to be staring at her curiously as she took a seat at the kitchen table. “I’m not exactly sure what that is.”

  Moishe made no comment. Instead, he headed for his food bowl. As her feline roommate crunched kibble, Hannah stared out the window at the snow blowing past the pane. It had been less than three minutes since Michelle had walked out the door, and Hannah was already feeling guilty for not putting on her boots and following her sister to work.

  “Either I’m not a lady, or I don’t know the meaning of leisure,” she told Moishe. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to gulp down this coffee and drive to work.”

  * * *

  A biting wind hurtled icy snow against Hannah’s cheeks as she left the condo and hurried down the covered staircase to ground level. As she passed her downstairs neighbor’s window, she noticed that the kitchen light was on. That meant Sue Plotnik was up fixing breakfast for her three-year-old boy, Kevin. His father, Phil Plotnik, would be home soon from his night supervisor shift at DelRay Manufacturing. Phil would eat breakfast with them and then Sue and Kevin would leave for her teaching job at Kiddie Korner, Lake Eden’s preschool. Once they’d left, Phil would go to bed and sleep until Sue and Kevin got back home. It was a demanding schedule, but Sue and Phil had worked it all out. They’d spend the rest of the day together with Kevin until Phil went back to work again at eleven that night.

  When Hannah started her Suburban, she noticed that the engine sounded a bit sluggish. It was time to start using her engine block heater and plugging her cookie truck in every night. The garage had a strip of outlets on the wall in front of the parking spaces for that purpose. There was also a strip of outlets in the parking lot at The Cookie Jar.

  As Hannah drove to work, she thought about the busy days ahead. It was Monday, and Thanksgiving would arrive soon. That meant they had to prepare for the Thanksgiving baking. The orders for pumpkin pies, pumpkin scones, pumpkin cookies, and sugar cookies decorated with turkeys and pumpkins were already pouring in. The pumpkin pies could be made no more than a day in advance and the same was true for the scones and cookies. They could, however, mix some of the ingredients together ahead of time and have everything ready for the marathon of baking that was necessary on the two days before the November holiday.

  For the most part, things had gone smoothly the previous year, but there were more orders this year. Hannah was thankful that she had help. Her partner, Lisa, was a dynamo in the kitchen. Th
ey also had Jack and Marge Herman, Lisa’s father and stepmother, to handle the business in the coffee shop while they baked in the kitchen. This year, they had two additional bakers, Lisa’s aunt Nancy, who was a genius at coming up with new recipes, and Michelle, who would pitch in when she wasn’t busy with rehearsals. Part of Michelle’s college curriculum was work study, and she was in town to direct the Thanksgiving and Christmas plays that their local community theater group was performing, and also to direct the high school junior class play, which would be performed between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

  There was no traffic at this time of the morning, and Hannah pulled into her parking spot in back of The Cookie Jar much sooner than she’d expected. She got out of her cookie truck, locked the doors, plugged in her block heater, and hurried to the back kitchen door. When she came in, both Lisa and Michelle looked surprised.

  “I thought you were going to take time for coffee,” Michelle said by way of a greeting.

  “I did, but coffee by myself was boring. I thought I’d have another cup with you two here.”

  “I’ll pour some for you,” Lisa offered. “And since we already have bar cookies in the oven, Michelle and I can take a break.”

  “How about a piece of Raspberry Danish?” Michelle asked Hannah. “Lisa was here early and she baked some company-size ones.” She turned to Lisa. “It’s cool enough to cut, isn’t it?”

  “It should be.” Lisa turned to Hannah. “Aunt Nancy baked it for us when Herb and I went to her house for brunch last weekend. She gave me the recipe and I wanted to try it here.”