Red Velvet Cupcake Murder (9 page)

“I’m not sure yet, unless . . .” Hannah stopped and considered the new recipe Delores had asked her to test. Norman wouldn’t mind being a recipe tester and she could kill two birds with one stone. “Mother gave me a recipe I need to try. She got it from a nurse at the hospital.”

“If it turns out well will you give me a copy?”

“Of course. I like exchanging recipes with you, Florence.”

“Just one more thing before you go.” Florence leaned over the counter so that she was closer to Hannah. “Did Norman hear from Doctor Bev?”

“Not that I know of. I didn’t have time to ask him when I saw him today at the hospital.”

“Norman’s at the
hospital
?”

“Yes, but he was there to consult with Doc Knight about Barbara’s teeth. She broke some when she fell last night.”

“I know. One of the nurses told me. Poor Barbara. She’s such a good person. I just wish she hadn’t gone that close to the edge of the roof.”

“Me, too,” Hannah said, managing to keep her face perfectly blank as she walked off to do the rest of her shopping. Florence was a charter member of the Lake Eden Gossip Hotline and if she even suspected that Barbara’s fall hadn’t been an accident, the news would be all over town before Hannah even had time to get up to the checkout stand.

T
he Chicken Tetrazzini Hotdish had been every bit as easy as Florence had promised. It was a winner recipe. Hannah slipped the casserole dish in the oven, along with the cookie sheet that would act as a drip pan, and set the timer. Norman would be here in thirty minutes and that would give them plenty of time to nibble on the cheese tray she’d prepared as an appetizer and sip coffee or the pink lemonade she’d made from the leftover frozen concentrate.

The next thing Hannah did was read through the recipe her mother had given her for Easy Fruit Pie. She’d picked up a can of peach pie filling because peaches were Norman’s favorite fruit.

Since she had a double oven, a feature Hannah gave thanks for every time she baked, she mixed up the crust for the Easy Fruit Pie, spooned on the filling, and slipped it into the lower oven. Then she glanced at the apple-shaped clock on her kitchen wall and set a secondary timer for fifty minutes. Her dessert would be ready and slightly cooled by the time they’d finished their salad and hotdish. At that time, she’d dish it up and couple it with a scoop of the vanilla bean ice cream.

As she went out into the living room to set plates, napkins, and silverware on the coffee table, she thought about what a challenge it was for young cooks to make a meal where everything was ready on time. It took some planning and there were always unexpected delays. When she’d first started to hold dinner parties, she’d always had trouble getting the vegetables to the table on time. She’d coped by serving a lot of one-dish Crock-Pot meals where the meat and vegetable were in the same pot. She’d also learned to prepare the vegetables ahead of time and serve them cold. Her guests had loved sliced tomatoes and red onions with vinegar and oil drizzled over the top, and chilled cooked asparagus with mustard hollandaise. Even today, as a veteran cook, she was careful not to have more than two time-critical items in a meal. She knew that delays invariably happened and company dinners never went like clockwork. The trick was to anticipate and keep it simple.

Hannah had no sooner changed into a comfortable lightweight lounge outfit when the doorbell rang. She opened it without remembering to check the peephole, something both Mike and Norman had warned her against, and smiled as she saw Norman standing there. He was holding a cat carrier and she reached out to take the package in his arms so that his load would be lighter.

“Hi, Norman,” she greeted him happily. Norman was the perfect dinner guest. Actually, he was the perfect
everything
. He’d asked her to marry him almost two years ago and she knew she’d never find anyone more loving and faithful. She loved him, she loved his cat. He loved her, he loved her cat. Norman would make a perfect husband. What was she waiting for?

“Rrrrrowww!” Moishe stood outside the cage impatiently when Norman set it down on the rug.

“Okay, big fella. Hold on a second and I’ll let her out.”

Norman unlatched the crate and Cuddles ran straight to Moishe and batted him with her paw. “And they’re off,” Norman said as the two cats ran down the hallway with Cuddles in the lead and Moishe chasing her. He held out his arms to give Hannah a hug. “Something smells fantastic,” he told her.

“Chicken Tetrazzini Hotdish and Easy Fruit Pie.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Norman gestured toward the bag she was holding. “Open it. It’s for you.”

Hannah opened the bag and pulled out a bottle of champagne. But it wasn’t just
any
bottle of champagne, and she gripped the bottle even tighter. “Dom Perignon,” she breathed, reading the label.

“I thought you might like it.”

“Like it?
Like
it? This is om Perignon. It’s even more expensive than the champagne Mother likes!”

“I know, but this is a split. It wasn’t as expensive as a whole bottle and it only holds two glasses.”

“Then you’re going to have some champagne with me?” The surprise was clear in Hannah’s voice. Norman didn’t drink and she knew the reason why he didn’t. Was tonight some kind of an exception?

“Not for me, thanks. I brought it for you.”

Hannah’s heart beat a little faster as something occurred to her. “Enough for two glasses, but you don’t drink. Are you trying to get me . . .” She paused, trying to come up with the right word, but settled for a euphemism that fell short of what she was intending. “Are you trying to get me
compliant
?”

“Compliant?” Norman gave a short laugh. “That would be a lost cause! There isn’t enough champagne in the world to get you
compliant
. Just remember that the more champagne you drink, the sexier I look.”

Now it was Hannah’s turn to laugh and she did. It was the first good laugh she’d had since she’d visited Barbara at the hospital and it felt good.

“It’s good to hear you laugh, Hannah.” Norman looked pleased. “But really, suit yourself. Drink it all, or don’t drink it all. That’s completely up to you. If you don’t want the second glass, that’s okay with me.”

Right. Sure
. Hannah’s mind went into sarcasm mode.
You brought me a bottle of one of the best champagnes in the world, champagne I’ve never tasted before and probably won’t ever get the chance to taste again. And you actually think I’m going to drink one glass and dump the rest down the garbage disposal?!

When Hannah looked over at Norman, she saw that he was grinning. Had he guessed she was having an internal dialogue with her mind? “You’ve got to be kidding about throwing part of this out.”

“You bet I am. Let’s enjoy the night, Hannah. I know I will. Both of us need to relax and have fun, now that we’re about to gear up for two more investigations.”

Hannah blinked in surprise. “I know you’re talking about Clayton Wallace. We have to prove his death was accidental so we can get that insurance money for his son. But you said
two
investigations.”

“Yes. We have to investigate Barbara’s fall.”

Hannah put two and two together and swallowed hard. “Then Barbara wasn’t imagining things when she said someone tried to kill her?”

“Doc and I don’t think so.”

“Then you believe she has a brother who surfaced for the party and pushed her off the roof?”

“No, I don’t believe the brother part of it. She’s clearly confused about that. But we do think someone attempted to kill her. Doc and I came up with a possible scenario, and I’ll tell you all about it after dinner. Right now I want to open this champagne for you.”

Norman took the bottle and opened the champagne while Hannah got an empty champagne glass for her and a tall glass of lemonade for him. She was about to go back into the kitchen for the appetizer tray that she’d prepared when Norman reached out to stop her. “Sit down, Hannah,” he invited, patting the couch next to him.

“Just let me get the cheese platter and then I will.”

“The cheese platter can wait. Try the champagne first. I want to see if you like it.”

“Of course I’ll like it,” Hannah said with a smile as she sat down beside him and accepted the glass. She took a sip and gave a blissful sigh. The champagne was every bit as good as its publicity. “Lovely,” she breathed. “Are you sure you . . .”

“No, thanks,” Norman interrupted her. “It’s all yours.”

Hannah took another sip and then she stood up again. “I’ll get that cheese platter now. This champagne will be perfect with the triple-cream Camembert.”

Once she’d returned with the appetizer tray and it was sitting between them on the coffee table, she turned to Norman. “Florence told me that the pears were just perfect today, and so were these flame grapes. They don’t have seeds. The dark brown crackers are pumpernickel flatbread, and the white ones are salted water crackers. And the cheeses are Danish Stilton with apricots, Wisconsin extra-sharp aged Cheddar, and triple-cream Camembert. . . .”

“Hold it, Hannah!” Norman interrupted her explanation, as he gazed in amazement at the huge appetizer tray. “Are you expecting an army?”

“No. I just got a little carried away when Florence told me about the cheeses. And the leftovers will keep. It’s just the two of us for dinner, Norman.”

The words had barely left Hannah’s lips when the phone rang. Both Hannah and Norman stared at it for a moment, and then their eyes met in total disbelief. “Do you think I should . . . ?” Hannah began.

“Answer it,” Norman said with a sigh. “If we’re lucky, it’s a telemarketer and you can hang up right away.”

Hannah reached for the phone as gingerly as if it were resting on the head of a hibernating bear. “Hello?” she asked in a tentative voice.

“Hi, Hannah! It’s Mike.”

“Hi, Mike.” Hannah put her hand over the receiver and whispered,
It’s Mike
, to Norman, quite unnecessarily.

“I just pulled into your complex. Is it okay if I come over? I want to find out what happened when you visited Barbara.”

Hannah covered the receiver again.
He wants to come over
, she whispered.

Norman didn’t say a thing. He just held out his hand for the phone. Hannah handed it over gratefully and listened as the two rivals for her affections conversed.

“It’s Norman. Go ahead and come up.” He turned to pantomime eating to Hannah and pointed to the phone. When Hannah nodded, he continued. “Hannah just fixed dinner and there’s plenty for three.”

There was a pause while Mike talked and Hannah assumed he was saying something about not wanting to intrude on their evening. Mike could be polite if he wanted to be.

“That’s okay, Mike,” Norman said, turning to give Hannah an apologetic look. “I’ve got something I need to tell you anyway.”

This time the response was quicker. Hannah figured that Mike had asked Norman what that was.

“It’s about Barbara, but I don’t want to discuss it over the phone. Come on up, eat dinner, and then we’ll talk about it, okay?”

Hannah frowned. It seemed that whatever information Norman had been planning to give her after dinner was now going to be shared with Mike. So much for exclusivity.

“Sorry,” Norman said after the phone was back in the cradle. “I would have had to tell him anyway. I promised Doc I would.”

“But you were going to tell me first?”

“That’s right. I was.”

It was a drop in the bucket, a smidgen, a crumb. But Norman was smiling warmly and for some strange reason, it was enough. Hannah smiled back and that warm-all-over feeling kept her toasty until the doorbell rang to announce Mike’s arrival.