Chocolate Cream Pie Murder Page 3

  “Thank you, Mayor Bascomb,” Hannah said instead. “I appreciate your efforts on my behalf.”

  The mayor looked pleased as he walked away, and Andrea nudged Hannah. “I heard that,” she said in a barely audible voice. “I’m proud of you, Hannah. You handled him perfectly. And just for your information, Bill planned a little surprise for Ross, too.”

  Good heavens! Does everyone in town think I need protection? Hannah thought, but instead of asking that question, she substituted another. “What surprise did Bill plan?”

  “He went out to the courthouse and got a warrant for Ross’s arrest for bigamy.”

  “Good heavens!” Hannah exclaimed, thoroughly shocked.

  “That’s right. Bill and Mike talked to Howie Levine and he drew up the paperwork for them.”

  “But . . . I wasn’t legally married to Ross.”

  “I know, but all they need is intent. Bill got a copy of the marriage certificate that you and Ross signed from the county records office. It’s true that you’re not legally married, but the intent to defraud was there. And that’s why the judge signed off on the warrant.”

  “Did you know about this?” Hannah asked Michelle, who was sitting on the other side of her.

  “No. I figured they’d do something like that, but I didn’t know it had actually happened. Ross did do something illegal, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “And you were hurt by it!” Andrea pointed out. “It can’t have been easy to give that speech in front of the congregation. And you wouldn’t have had to do that if Ross hadn’t been such a louse.”

  Hannah couldn’t argue with that. Ross had been a louse. He’d put her through the charade of a wedding when he was married to someone else.

  Grandma Knudson came up to the table and put her arms around Hannah. “We love you, Hannah. Everyone here loves you and we want the best for you. You believe that, don’t you?”

  It took Hannah a moment to find her voice past the lump in her throat. “Yes, I do believe that.”

  Grandma Knudson gave her another little hug. “You’ve been through a lot, Hannah, and we all want to help you through this.”

  “Please tell everyone that I appreciate that,” Hannah managed to say. And then her eyes filled with tears and she knew she had to leave. “I have to go, Grandma Knudson.”

  “I understand. I’ll tell everyone that you’re grateful for their support.” Grandma Knudson waited for Hannah to push back her chair and get to her feet. “I’ll walk you to the stairs, Hannah.”

  Hannah gave everyone the best smile she could muster, and walked to the door with Grandma Knudson. When Grandma Knudson pulled open the door to the stairs, Hannah gave her a tremulous smile and headed up the steps to the cloakroom. Once there, blinking back tears, she put on her parka and boots. Then she opened the outside door to the church and hurried across the parking lot to her cookie truck.

  The snow was beginning to fall as she drove back to her condo, but Hannah barely noticed. And once she got home, she scooped up Moishe, no easy task with her twenty-three-pound feline, and carried him to the bedroom. She placed Moishe on a pillow, waited until he had made a nest for himself, and then she changed into sweatpants and a warm turtleneck sweater.

  “It’s naptime, Moishe,” she said, stretching out on the bed to pet him.

  Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away. It was nice to know that everyone in Lake Eden wanted the best for her and wished her well, but that didn’t help one iota when it came to fixing her shattered dreams or mending her broken heart.

  Moishe seemed to know that something was wrong and he reached out with his paw, claws retracted, and patted her cheek. Then he snuggled closer and Hannah, comforted at last, fell asleep.

  * * *

  Snow came down in big, icy flakes that fell faster and faster to cover the drifts that already existed in an irregular, lumpy blanket of white. Children who were out playing in Lake Eden backyards, released for good behavior in Sunday school and church, began to form snowballs to throw at their friends.

  The weathermen on local radio and television had not predicted this sudden winter storm. It had blown in seemingly out of nowhere. In the space of a few short minutes, the wind had reached gale force and mothers, glancing out kitchen windows as they made preparations to start the family supper, realized that some of their young offspring were holding on to the arms of their older siblings and trying to trudge through the snow to the back door.

  Parents rushed outside to herd their children into warm houses and to dry wet, snow-covered clothing. Soup was heated, and soon the children, dressed in warm bathrobes and slippers, were sipping hot soup from mugs at kitchen tables.

  Even though it was only mid-afternoon, the sky began to darken as the snowfall intensified. The readings on outdoor thermometers dropped lower, and levers on thermostats all over town were raised to higher temperatures. Windows rattled like a cadence played on snare drums, and television sets and radios were tuned to weather reports.

  The hillocks in backyards turned into snowbanks that shot up faster than a preteen with a growth spurt while local weathermen compared this winter storm to the blizzard of ought-nine. Hearing that news, farm wives donned parkas and went out to make sure the ropes from the house to the barn were intact while their husbands and hired hands rounded up livestock and led them into the barn. And while all this was happening, Hannah was sleeping, exhausted and depressed from her morning ordeal.

  * * *

  Once Hannah woke up, after a two-hour nap, she barely recognized the landscape outside her bedroom window. Everything, as far as she could see, was covered with an unending sheet of snow. The familiar scene she saw every day was completely transformed into a pillow of white. She could no longer see where the planter between the buildings began and ended. And to her surprise, she could barely see the building only a bit over several dozen feet away from hers. Her view was obscured by blowing snow, and the icy flakes were still falling, swirling in dizzying patterns outside the double-paned glass.

  “It’s snowing, Moishe,” Hannah said to the cat who was sleeping next to her. “It’s a winter storm and it looks like a bad one.”

  Moishe yawned widely and gave a little quiver as he roused himself. Then he got to his feet, reluctantly she thought, and yawned again.

  Hannah glanced at the clock on her bed table, blinked several times, and then read the time again. She had to wake up and get ready to meet her whole family for dinner at the Lake Eden Inn. When Delores and Doc had married, they’d decided to make Sunday family night. Thankfully, as far as everyone was concerned, Delores was no longer cooking their family dinners. Hannah’s mother only knew how to make three entrées and, for years, Hannah and her sisters had suffered through Hawaiian Pot Roast, EZ Lasagna, or reheated baked chicken purchased from the Lake Eden Red Owl Grocery store.

  “Come on, Moishe.” Hannah sat up on the edge of the bed and grabbed her warm, fleece-lined slippers. “We’d better check the weather report.”

  Hannah got to her feet and walked down the carpeted hallway to the living room with Moishe following behind her. The interior of the condo was chilly, and she turned up the thermostat a couple of degrees and switched on the gas log fireplace before she sat down in her favorite spot on one of the reclining couches that her family had given her for a wedding present. The television control was on the coffee table in front of her, and Hannah grabbed it to switch on the giant flat-screen television.

  Even though it was time for the Sunday afternoon movie, Rayne Phillips, the KCOW Television weatherman, was on the screen. The words SEVERE STORM WARNING flashed across the bottom of the screen, and the map of Minnesota displayed on the screen was covered with bands of yellow, orange, and red. The bright red color was centered over the Lake Eden area, and Hannah turned up the volume so that she could hear what Rayne had to say.

  “. . . inches before morning.” Hannah caught the tail end of Rayne’s sentence. “You’d better hope
your pantries are full, folks, because there’s no relief in sight until mid-afternoon on Wednesday. At that point, we may have as much as three feet of snow on the ground.”

  Hannah shivered even though the living room was warming up nicely. Three feet of snow was a lot, especially if the winds continued to blow and even larger snowdrifts were formed. If Rayne’s prediction was accurate and the storm continued until Wednesday, she could forget about going in to work in the morning. It would be futile to bake when she’d have no customers to eat her cookies.

  “And now we have Chuck Wilson and Dee Dee Hughes standing by in the newsroom with winter weather tips, some travel advisories from the Minnesota Highway Patrol, and a list of school closures for Monday morning.”

  Hannah watched as Chuck Wilson, the chisel-faced anchor, began to talk about the storm. One glance at the weather map behind him and Hannah could see that the storm was already rolling in with the speed of a freight train.

  “Currently, the winds are from the north with a velocity of thirty miles an hour and occasional gusts up to sixty miles an hour. Wind speeds are expected to increase to gale force over the course of the night, and the Minnesota Highway Patrol is advising drivers to seek shelter immediately.” Chuck stepped a bit closer to the camera and flashed his perfect smile. “I can tell you folks out there that everyone here at KCOW Television plans on hunkering down right here for the night so that we can bring you the latest news.”

  Dee Dee Hughes, the anorexic blond anchor, walked onscreen to take her place behind the news desk next to Chuck. Both of them had a sheaf of papers that Hannah knew, for a fact, they’d never read and wouldn’t use during the newscast. Betty Jackson, who had moved from a temporary position to a permanent job at the television station, had told Hannah that the newsroom gave them the same sheaf of papers every day. There was nothing written on the papers and they were simply a prop. Betty also said that both Dee Dee and Chuck used the TelePrompTer during their newscast, and that neither of them had ever noticed that the papers were blank.

  As Dee Dee began to read the news alert on the TelePrompTer, Hannah reached for the remote control. She turned up the volume on the television to override the noise outside her living room windows and closed her eyes again. She began to doze off, but caught the words “worst storm of the century,” followed a few seconds later by a long list of school closures. Jordan High in Lake Eden was among them, and that meant Michelle wouldn’t have to teach English and drama at their local high school in the morning.

  Hannah didn’t bother to turn up the volume again, even though the drum roll of icy snow pelting against her windows was increasing in both speed and volume. A list of winter storm precautions appeared in a scrawl at the bottom of the screen, and the words MOTORISTS ARE ADVISED TO RETURN TO A PLACE OF SAFETY appeared in bold black type. DRIVE ONLY IN CASE OF EMERGENCY scrolled across the screen, followed by several other common cautions for driving on local roads and highways in hazardous conditions.

  The camera switched to Chuck and he quickly put down the glass he was holding. Idly, Hannah wondered if it really was the ginger ale that it appeared to be. Then she reached for the phone, picked it up, and punched in her mother’s number.

  Delores answered on the first ring. “Hannah! Where are you?”

  “I’m here at home,” Hannah answered, wondering why her mother sounded panic-stricken. “Are you and Doc all right, Mother?”

  “We’re fine, dear. We were worried about you. I tried to reach you three times on your cell phone and it kept saying that your phone was out of service.”

  Hannah gave a little groan. “Sorry, Mother. That’s my fault. I forgot to recharge it when I got home from church.”

  “Well, go plug it in right now while you still have electricity. I’ll wait.”

  Hannah grabbed her cell phone, which was on the table by her house phone, and plugged it into the charger cable. “Okay, Mother. It’s charging right now.”

  “Good. They’re saying this storm is going to turn into a blizzard, Hannah.”

  “I know. I was watching KCOW and that’s why I called you. Have you heard from Michelle and Lonnie?”

  “Yes, dear. They’re here right now. I told them to stay here until the storm’s over and not try to drive out to your condo. Doc just got home from the hospital and he says the roads are close to impassable already.”

  “That’s the reason I called. Did Michelle and Lonnie agree to stay with you and not try to drive out here?”

  “Of course they agreed, dear. Both Doc and I were very firm with them. We’re all going down to the Red Velvet Lounge for dinner, and then we’ll come back up here and enjoy the garden.” There was a pause and Hannah heard her mother sigh. “I wish you could join us, but I don’t want you to drive in weather like this, Hannah.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Mother. I’m fine here.”

  “But aren’t you lonely?”

  Hannah glanced down at the cat who’d just nestled down in her lap. “I’m not lonely with Moishe here. He’s sitting in my lap and purring right now.”

  “Oh, good. I’ll let you go then, dear. Will you promise to call me if there’s any problem?”

  Hannah couldn’t imagine any problem that would necessitate a call to her mother, but she knew better than to argue. “Of course I will, Mother.”

  “And call if you’re lonely. It doesn’t matter what time it is. I’ll be here for you, Hannah.”

  To Hannah’s surprise, tears came to her eyes. Her mother was being uncharacteristically empathetic. “Thank you, Mother.”

  Once they’d said their goodbyes and Hannah had replaced her phone in the cradle, she reached for a tissue and wiped her eyes. But the moment after she’d dried her eyes, she felt them well up with tears again. She hadn’t felt at all lonely until her mother had mentioned it. And now, even holding her sleeping cat, she began to wish that she was with her mother and Doc and Michelle and Lonnie, enjoying good conversation and good food at the Red Velvet Lounge in their condo building.

  Hannah imagined the evening they’d have together. After dinner, they’d go back up to Delores and Doc’s penthouse and sit in the climate-controlled garden under the dome that would protect them from the elements. Hannah’s mother would open a bottle of Perrier Jouet, her favorite champagne, and they’d watch the snow swirl outside. Now that Hannah thought about it, she missed her family dreadfully.

  “Nonsense!” Hannah said aloud, startling the cat in her lap. She gave him a scratch under his chin and a rub behind his ears, and soon Moishe was asleep again. The attention had soothed Moishe, comforted him and assured him that everything was okay. And knowing that made Hannah wish she had someone beside her to comfort her.

  There was only one cure for feeling lonely and abandoned, and Hannah knew exactly what it was. She would bake. She always felt better when she baked. She’d try out the new cake recipe that Lisa’s Aunt Nancy had given her. If it worked well for her, it would be a great addition to their Valentine catering menu.

  The recipe was in the bottom of her purse, neatly folded with Hannah’s inscription “TO TRY.” She read through the ingredients and began to smile. She had everything she needed to bake Aunt Nancy’s Ultimate Strawberry Bundt Cake.

  Hannah headed to the kitchen with a smile on her face. The day that Aunt Nancy had given her the recipe, she’d picked up a strawberry cake mix at Florence’s Red Owl Grocery. She had sour cream in her refrigerator and she’d even stopped at Lake Eden Municipal Liquor to buy a bottle of strawberry liqueur. Instant vanilla pudding was no problem. She always had that on hand in case she wanted to make her Fake Orange Julius. And there was a jar of strawberry jam in the refrigerator.

  Quickly, Hannah assembled the ingredients and prepared her Bundt pan. Since Aunt Nancy’s recipe said to use something called Pan Coat to brush on the inside of the Bundt pan instead of greasing and flouring it, Hannah followed the second recipe Aunt Nancy had gotten from her friend Judy to mix up the Pan Coat. She brushed it al
l over the inside of the Bundt pan, set the oven to preheat at the proper temperature, pulled out her electric stand mixer, and began to mix up the cake.

  In less than fifteen minutes, Hannah’s cake was ready to bake and once she’d slipped it into her oven, she flicked off the overhead lights in the kitchen and went back to the living room to find something to watch on her flat-screen television set.

  PAN COAT

  This recipe is from Judith Baer and it works like a dream!

  ½ cup flour (just scoop it out and level it off with a knife)

  ½ cup vegetable oil

  ½ cup Crisco

  Place the three ingredients, in the order given, in a bowl.

  Judy’s 1st Note: This recipe is simple: Today, I made some more Pan Coat and put the flour in the bowl first, the oil next, and then the Crisco. I use the same half cup measure for all of them, and I do not wash it until I have all three ingredients in the bowl. If you do this in order, the Crisco will easily slide out of the measuring cup.

  Whip the ingredients together until the mixture is thick and creamy. (This is easier with an electric mixer.)

  Brush Pan Coat all over the inside of your baking pan.

  Yield: Enough Pan Coat to coat the inside of several baking pans.

  Judy’s 2nd Note: If you have Pan Coat left over, place it in a jar, cover the jar with a square of wax paper, and screw on the lid. It will keep in your pantry or cupboard without refrigeration until you are ready to use it again. The ingredients will separate, but all you have to do is mix them together again.

  Aunt Nancy’s Note: Judy got this recipe when she took a cake decorating class. She uses it when she bakes wedding cakes and gingerbread houses for Christmas.