Candy Cane Murder Page 9
“They’re very popular down at The Cookie Jar. Have one and tell me if you like them.”
“I really shouldn’t. So many calories. You make them with real butter?”
“Yes.” Of course she made them with real butter. Minnesota was a dairy state and no scientist had yet found a perfect substitute for butter.
“Maybe I’ll have one tonight after dinner.” Melinda folded the bag closed and set it on the rattan table in front of her chair. “Do sit down. Would you care for coffee? Or tea?”
Hannah shook her head. “No, thank you. I’d like to use your powder room, though, if that’s all right.”
Norman shot her a startled look. He knew she’d gone off to the ladies’ room shortly before they’d caught the elevator to the Bergstrom penthouse.
“Certainly. I’ll ring for Emily. She can show you the way.”
“There’s no need to call your maid.” Hannah stood up. “Just give me directions and I’ll find it.”
“Turn left when you leave here, and then turn to the right when you get to the next hallway. There’s a guest bath three doors down on your left.”
As Hannah walked away, she heard Norman begin to praise Melinda’s design for the solarium. Norman might not know exactly what she was up to, but Hannah knew he’d keep Melinda busy talking until she got back.
Instead of following Melinda’s instructions, Hannah turned in the opposite direction. She passed a huge master suite and noticed a large piece of mahogany furniture against one wall. It was a valet stand, the sort of standing rack that held a man’s hat, suit, and shoes. This piece of furniture was a quadruple valet stand with an upholstered bench in the center. Each side was flanked by two valet stands, one raised as high as the mirror in back of the bench, and the one at normal height. The massive piece of furniture was decorated with carvings of stag, and deer, and moose. It was the most magnificent piece of furniture Hannah had ever seen.
Hannah paused, letting her eyes roam the room. This master bedroom was larger than her whole condo. There were walk-in closets on either side of the room and the doors were open. Hannah spotted men’s clothing in one closet, and absolutely nothing in the other. Had Melinda moved out of the master bedroom, unable to bear the loneliness of the suite she’d shared with her husband?
Afraid she might be caught staring for too long, Hannah moved on down the hallway. She turned the corner and passed another bedroom with an open door. This one was obviously Cory’s. There was a shirt hanging just inside the door. It was in a see-through dry cleaner’s bag and she recognized the distinctive gold and silver shirt that Cory had worn the previous evening.
Hannah walked on to the next room. The door was ajar and she made it even more so. This was a woman’s bedroom. There were fresh flowers on the ornate dresser, and another set of see-through dry cleaner bags containing party dresses and women’s suits. Hannah was about to go on to greener pastures when something she spied turned this room into a shade of emerald she couldn’t resist.
It was a photo album, sitting on a table by the window. Photos could be revealing, and Hannah wanted to take a quick peek. If a guest was staying here with Melinda and Cory, she might have information about why Wayne was murdered. There was only one way to tell who that guest was. Hannah had to get a look at the photo album before Melinda’s maid came in search of the wayward visitor who had missed the guest bathroom and was in some other part of the penthouse.
Hannah glanced up and down the hallway. No one was in the immediate vicinity. She knew she was taking a chance, but she ducked in the open door and hurried to the table with the album.
The photo album had initials on the front in fancy gold script. The letters were so stylized that they were difficult to read, but Hannah was almost positive that they were M. A. A.
In the space of no more than a heartbeat, she opened the album and looked inside. It was a family album. There was a wedding with people Hannah didn’t recognize. And then there was a baby in a baptismal gown. The father holding her looked proud and happy and the mother, who was standing at his side, looked a lot like Melinda Reynolds Bergstrom!
She was taking a chance standing here snooping, but there was no way she could squelch her curiosity. Hannah flipped through the pages, gazing at pictures of a small girl being steadied by her dad on a hobbyhorse, a preschooler riding a tricycle, and a little girl getting on a school bus, waving at whoever was holding the camera. There were pictures of family vacations with mom, dad, and daughter. One was taken at the Wisconsin Dells. Hannah recognized Storybook Gardens. There was another series of snapshots of Crystal Cave in Wisconsin. These were obviously Melinda’s parents, and as Melinda grew older, Hannah recognized her. But where was Melinda’s brother, Cory? He wasn’t in any of these early family photos.
Hannah made a lightning quick search of the album. Christmas in grade school, no Cory. A family trip to Itasca to see the origin of the Mississippi River, no Cory. The family at Melinda’s high school graduation, no Cory. There wasn’t one single picture of Melinda’s brother, and that was unusual to say the least!
Now for the room. Was it Melinda’s? Hannah thought that it must be. There were several framed magazine covers that Melinda had posed for, hanging on the walls. When had she moved here, next to Cory, instead of sharing the master suite with her husband? Hannah made a quick survey of the bedroom, gathering information. There was an archive-size stack of modeling magazines in the white wrought-iron bookcase against the far wall, and every inch of the closet was filled with clothing. There were personal items in the dresser. Hannah pulled out a few drawers to check the contents, and she noticed gardening books on another table, their pages marked by colored tabs. One gold-colored slipper peeked out from beneath the bed, and a silk dressing gown was tossed on a chair in the corner. It was an assumption, but Hannah made it without quibbling. This was Melinda’s room and she’d been using it for quite a while.
Hannah’s head snapped up as she heard footsteps. Someone was coming! She glanced around quickly, and headed straight for the bathroom. She shut the door just a heartbeat before she heard someone enter the bedroom.
“Miss Swensen?” It was a voice Hannah recognized. Emily the maid was looking for her. “Are you in here, Miss Swensen?”
“I’m in the bathroom,” Hannah answered, flushing the toilet to add credence to her words. She was busted, caught red-handed, snooping in Melinda’s bedroom. But why was Melinda sleeping in this bedroom when the master bedroom was right down the hall?
There was no time to think about that now. She was going to have to do some fast talking and hope that Emily would buy it. Hannah took a deep breath, opened the door, and gave the maid her brightest smile.
“I hope I found the right bathroom,” she said. “I forgot whether Melinda said to go left, or right.”
The maid looked suspicious for a brief moment and then she smiled. “You didn’t, but that’s all right. I’ll escort you back to the garden. Mrs. Bergstrom paged me. She was afraid you were lost.”
“I guess I was!” Hannah said. “But I’m glad you’re here, Emily. I’d like to know if this is Melinda’s bedroom.”
“Oh! Well…yes. Yes, it is. But that’s Mrs. Bergstrom’s private business. I can’t say anything more.”
“Of course you can,” Hannah interrupted her. “Your employer’s dead, murdered in cold blood, and his widow doesn’t seem to be grieving very much. Do you think she cares?”
“Not that one!” Emily said, shaking her head. “There’s no love lost there and there wasn’t on his side, either.” She moved closer and continued in a whisper. “I’m almost sure Mr. Bergstrom was going to divorce her, not that he said anything to me, of course. But it wasn’t a real marriage, if you know what I mean. And now…I’d better take you back before she comes after both of us.”
Once back inside the tropical paradise, Hannah ignored Norman’s curious glance, and sat down next to Melinda. They made polite conversation for a moment or two, and then Melinda to
ok them on a tour of the most unusual and exotic flora that she had imported. Hannah admired brightly colored blooms that looked more artificial that real to her, smelled scents so heady they came close to making her sneeze, and pretended overwhelming interest in natural fertilizers and climate control. Then, mercifully, it was time to render their polite good-byes, repeat their condolences, and leave.
“Well?” Norman asked when they had boarded the elevator and were safely on their way down to the store.
“Well, what?”
“Well, why were you gone so long? And what did you discover?”
“No Cory,” Hannah said, summing up her findings in two words.
“What?”
“I found Melinda’s family photo album. There were lots of pictures of Melinda and her parents, but not one single picture of Cory. Maybe Cory had a big fight with his parents and they took all his pictures out of the photo album. Or maybe Melinda did, and she removed them. Or…maybe there was something wrong with Cory that he didn’t get fixed until he left home.”
“Like what?”
“Like a birthmark he had removed. Or maybe Cory was really Melinda’s sister Corrine before she had the sex change.”
Hannah started to laugh, but she quickly sobered as she thought of another possibility. “Or…maybe Cory isn’t Melinda’s brother and that’s why he isn’t in the family album.”
“That’s interesting,” Norman commented. “Don’t you want to know what I found out while you were gone?”
“Absolutely.”
“I found out everything I really didn’t need to know about exotic plants, flowers, and berries.”
“Lucky you.” Hannah stepped off the elevator and spotted the decorator dried wreath department, right where Delores had said it would be. “Let’s go buy a peony wreath for your mother, and then go straight back to The Cookie Jar. I want to see if Lisa’s hit pay dirt with her invisible waitress trick.”
DEVIL’S FOOD COOKIES
Do not preheat oven—this dough needs to chill.
2 cups flour
1¾ cups white (granulated) sugar
½ cup cocoa powder ***
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ cup melted butter (1 stick, ¼ pound)
1 beaten egg (just whip it up in a glass with a fork)
½ cup extra strong coffee (I brewed French Roast double strength)
½ cup white sugar in a small bowl (for later)
When cocoa is used in any of my recipes, make sure to use plain old American cocoa (I usually use Hershey’s unsweetened cocoa.) There are many designer cocoas on the market. They’re wonderful in their own right, but they won’t work in my recipes. Make sure you don’t buy cocoa mix, which has powdered milk and a sweetener added. Stay away from Dutch process cocoa—it has alkaline added. Also beware of cocoas that are mixed with ground chocolate or other flavorings. They won’t work either. Things were simpler in my grandmother’s day (and this Devil’s Food Cookie is one of her recipes.) If you’re in doubt, check the ingredients that are listed on the container of cocoa. It should say “cocoa” and nothing else.
In a large bowl, mix the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, salt, and baking soda. Once these dry ingredients are combined, add the melted butter and mix thoroughly.
Add the beaten egg and mix thoroughly.
Add the strong coffee and mix thoroughly.
Chill the dough in the refrigerator for at least one hour. (Overnight is fine, too.)
When you’re ready to bake, preheat the oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
Roll the dough into one-inch diameter balls with your hands. This dough may be sticky, so roll only enough for the cookies you plan to bake immediately and then return the bowl to the refrigerator. Roll the dough balls in the bowl of white sugar and place them on a greased cookie sheet, 12 balls to a standard sheet. Flatten them slightly with the heel of your impeccably clean hand so they won’t roll off on their way to the oven.
Bake at 350 degrees F. for 8 to 10 minutes. Cool on the cookie sheet for a minute or two and then remove the cookies to a wire rack to finish cooling. (If you leave them on the cookie sheet for too long, they’ll stick.)
Hannah’s Note: When Lisa wants to make these fancy for a cookie catering job, she drizzles them with fine horizontal lines of white powdered sugar icing. Then she mixes up chocolate powdered sugar icing and drizzles them with fine vertical lines. Here are the frostings she uses:
White Powdered Sugar Icing:
1 cup powdered (confectioner’s) sugar
½ teaspoon vanilla
¼ teaspoon salt
2 to 4 Tablespoons light cream
Lisa’s 1stNote: There’s no need to sift the powdered sugar unless it has big lumps.
Line up your cookies, shoulder to shoulder, on a sheet of waxed paper.
Mix the powdered sugar with the vanilla and the salt. Add the light cream gradually until the frosting is the consistency you want.
Put the frosting into a plastic food storage bag. Twist the top closed and cut off one of the bottom corners to let out the frosting. Squeeze it out and drizzle it in fine lines over your cookies.
Chocolate Powdered Sugar Icing:
1 cup powdered (confectioner’s) sugar
¼ cup cocoa
½ teaspoon vanilla
¼ teaspoon salt 3 to 6 Tablespoons light cream
Turn the paper with the partially frosted cookies 90 degrees so that the thin lines of chocolate frosting will crisscross the white frosting.
Mix the powdered sugar with the cocoa. Blend it in until the resulting mixture is a uniform color. Add the vanilla and the salt. Add the light cream gradually until the chocolate frosting is the consistency you want.
Put the chocolate frosting into a plastic food storage bag. Twist the top closed and cut off one of the bottom corners to let out the frosting. Squeeze it out and drizzle it in fine lines over your cookies.
Let the frosting dry thoroughly and then pack the cookies in single layers in a box lined with wax paper.
Lisa’s 2ndNote: If you want to be really fancy, you can make powdered sugar icing with food coloring and use other extracts besides vanilla.
Chapter Nine
“It was all speculation,” Lisa answered Hannah’s query when they got back to The Cookie Jar, “but there was one interesting thing.”
“And that was?” Hannah prompted.
“Carrie thinks Jenny Bergstrom was in the family way when she left Lake Eden.”
Norman raised his eyebrows. “My mother actually said, in the family way?”
“Yes.” Lisa turned to Hannah. “And your mother said, No way, Jose. Dream on.”
Norman gave a huge sigh, but Hannah noticed that his eyes were twinkling. “I always suspected it, but now I know it’s true.”
“What’s true?” Hannah asked.
“Your mother is cooler than my mother.”
Lisa cracked up, and both Hannah and Norman turned to look at her.
“Sorry,” she said, still giggling. “It’s not cooler anymore. Now it’s rad, or phat, or something like that. It changes every month, or so. The only way you can keep up is to watch the sitcoms on television.”
Hannah turned to Norman and gave him a little pat on the arm. “It’s okay. I knew exactly what you meant.”
“Vernacular aside, do you think my mother knew what she was talking about?” Norman asked Lisa.
“She seemed pretty sure of herself.” Lisa turned to Hannah. “And she managed to convince your mother.”
“If she convinced Mother, it’s probably true.”
“Jenny left town before she started to gain weight, or anything. And she never said anything about it in her letters to her friends in Lake Eden.”
“Okay.” Hannah got up to pour more coffee for all of them. Marge and Jack were still manning the shop and they had a little time to talk. “What else did Carrie say?”
“She said she almost came r
ight out and asked Jenny, but then she heard about the divorce and she thought she must be wrong.”
“Why?” Hannah was curious.
“Because Wayne always wanted children and he would have forgotten all about marrying the bimbo,” Lisa glanced at Norman, “your mother’s word, not mine, and gone straight back to Jenny if she’d told him that she was pregnant.”
“Oh, boy!” Norman gave a little groan. “The one thing I always loved about Lake Eden was that it could never be featured on a reality show. But now…I’m not so sure.”
Hannah laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Gossip in a small town isn’t that interesting unless you live there, and Dancing with the Bovines won’t make it. Unless they decide to hold the summer Olympics on Winnie Henderson’s farm, Lake Eden doesn’t have a prayer of being on national television.”
“Hey, Hannah.”
Mike strode in shortly after Norman had left and Hannah’s heart began to beat like a trip hammer. Why did he have this effect on her? She wished she could control it, but that sudden breathlessness and leap in blood pressure seemed to be eons beyond the control of biofeedback.
“Mike,” Hannah replied, pouring two mugs of coffee from the kitchen pot while her hand was still steady. “Would you like a couple of Linda’s Shortbread Pecan Cookies?”
“Who’s Linda?”
“Lisa’s cousin. She sent us the recipe.”
“Sure, I’ll try a couple. I promise I’ll never refuse anything you offer me. You can count on that.”
Mike gave her a devilish grin and Hannah almost didn’t make it to the work island with the mugs of coffee intact. He was implying a lot more than he should, but she didn’t really dare to react. If she accused him of a suggestive comment, he’d act all innocent and tell her it was all in her head.