Wedding Cake Murder (21 page)

Michelle cleared her throat. “Look, Hannah . . . maybe I’m a little paranoid, but I don’t think you should let anyone know which cookie you’re baking until the actual night of the cookie challenge. That’s why I don’t want you to leave the dough in Sally’s cooler. All the other contestants will have access to that cooler.”

Hannah thought about that for a moment. “You’re not paranoid,” she said. “You’re smart! This
is
a competition.”

“That’s right. And remember what happened to Brooke.”

Hannah increased the speed of her windshield wipers to combat the blowing snow. “I should also be careful not to leave any copies of my recipes behind when we leave the kitchen.”

“Right. Maybe we’re going a little overboard, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I think all of our recipes should be a secret until we bake them for the judges.”

“Agreed.” Hannah turned up the speed on her windshield wipers again. “It’s snowing pretty hard, Michelle. I’m glad that Ross didn’t have to go out on location today. He’s spending the day at the studio, teaching P.K. how to edit the footage they shot last night.”

“Are they coming over for dinner tonight?”

“Yes, but they’re bringing takeout. Bertanelli’s is close to the studio, and Ross said he’d pick up a couple of pizzas.”

“So there’s only the five of us?”

Hannah glanced over at Michelle. “Five? It’s four, Michelle. You, me, Ross, and P.K.”

“Not if Mike gets wind of it,” Michelle said with a smile.

“You’ve got a point.” Hannah braked cautiously as she came to the turnoff that led around the lake. “I’m glad we’re almost there. The road’s getting slippery. Maybe I should have taken The Food Channel’s offer to let us stay at Sally’s.”

Michelle shook her head. “I think you did the right thing. You have the advantage of sleeping at home in your own bed, and you can practice in your home kitchen or in the kitchen at The Cookie Jar. Everybody else has to wait for their turn in Sally’s kitchen.”

“But there’s five baking stations.”

“That’s true, but the producers don’t want us all at the baking stations at once until the actual competition. Remember what happened to Brooke in New York?”

“Of course I do. But Brooke said she wasn’t going to say anything about it to the judges.”

“She probably didn’t, but someone may have figured it out. And this does eliminate the possibility of cheating that way again.” Michelle peered out at the snow stacking up on the roadway. “Do you think the weather will interfere with the competition tomorrow night?”

“I don’t think so. The road will be plowed by then, and Dick plows the parking lot and the turnaround in front of the inn. Besides, Minnesota drivers know how to deal with winter weather. This isn’t exactly a blizzard, you know.”

Michelle leaned back in her seat. “You’re right. I’m just borrowing trouble. I probably need sleep. I kept waking up last night and I couldn’t help thinking that something bad was going to happen.”

“You had a premonition?” Hannah frowned slightly.

“No, it probably had something to do with the dill pickles I ate last night, right before I went to bed.”

They traveled in silence for several moments, each thinking their own thoughts. Then the truck swerved sharply.

“Whoa!” Hannah squelched her urge to stomp on the brakes and steered out of the skid. The road around the lake was icy, and it felt colder than it had when they’d left her condo complex. Her headlights cut a bright yellow swath through the fog that had gathered around Eden Lake. “Are you all right?” she asked Michelle.

“I’m fine. You’re a good driver, Hannah.”

“Not
that
good. I should have realized that the road around the lake might be icy. It was only twenty degrees when we left the condo. That’s pretty cold for this time of year, even in Minnesota.”

Michelle shivered slightly in her light jacket. Then she leaned forward to peer down the tunnel that Hannah’s headlights cut through the inky blackness. “It’s really dark out here. I guess it’s because there aren’t any streetlights.”

“And the fact that almost all of the lake cabins are dark and buttoned up for the winter.”

“You’re right. I forgot about that. I guess I’m used to Minneapolis. The sky never gets really dark like this. There’s always a kind of perpetual glow.”

“That’s because of the ambient city lights. Just think about how many streetlights and neon signs are in a city that large. They reflect off the cloud cover.” Hannah glanced over at her youngest sister and smiled. “Thanks for coming with me, Michelle. This would be a lonely drive all by myself.”

“When we get into Sally’s kitchen, are we going to practice everything from scratch so that we can check out the time?”

“Yes. Tomorrow’s competition could get a little frantic since we only have an hour to mix up and bake our entry.”

“I think I’m prepared for my part of it, but it couldn’t hurt to set the timer and do a final run-through. Do you have the key Sally gave you?”

“I’ve got it.” Hannah glanced down at her key ring. The key was there, right next to the one for her condo door. Sally had given every contestant a key to her kitchen. “I’d hate to let the audience down tomorrow night, especially in the cookie challenge.”

“And I know you’d hate to let Ross down. I heard you ask him if he’d be disappointed if you didn’t win.”

Hannah couldn’t keep from smiling, just remembering what Ross had said when she’d asked him. He’d called her
his
grand prize. She could hardly wait to marry Ross.

“Do you know that you smile every time anyone says Ross’s name?”

Hannah thought about that for a moment. “No, but I guess it makes sense.”

“I think it’s sweet. I wonder if Ross smiles every time he hears your name.”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe we should put it to the test.”

“No. Please don’t,” Hannah said quickly.

“Because you’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t smile?”

Hannah sighed. Michelle had a remarkable and sometimes distressing talent for doing what their father had called
hitting the nail on the head
. Instead of answering, Hannah changed the subject. “You’re not nervous about tomorrow night, are you?”

“Not at all. Of course, I’ll have stage fright at the beginning. I always do. But that only makes me try harder to do everything perfectly. How about you?”

“I may be just a little nervous,” Hannah admitted, making light of the fact that the horde of butterflies in her stomach always began to do a jig the moment the judges took their places and cameras began to roll. “I just hope that Aunt Nancy’s right and the butterscotch in our cookies reminds Judge Duquesne of his childhood dessert.”

There was a parking spot in front of the Lake Eden Inn and Hannah pulled in. “Ready?” she asked, turning to Michelle.

“I’m ready. Let’s bake.”

The lobby of the inn was deserted. The college student who usually worked from midnight until eight at the front desk was probably on break. Hannah gave a little wave at the security camera as they went by and mouthed the words,
Hi, Dick
. Dick would see her wave when he reviewed the footage.

There was a fire in the massive stone fireplace and Hannah stopped in front of it to warm her hands. Michelle did the same and they stood there for a moment, turning this way and that to warm up.

“I’ll get my parka out tonight,” Hannah said, leaving the fireplace reluctantly and leading the way down the hall.

“I didn’t bring my parka with me on this trip,” Michelle said. “I never dreamed it would get this cold.”

“Don’t tell Mother you don’t have it. She’ll call to remind you to bring it every time you say you’re coming home.”

It was a bit strange to walk down the empty hallways which were usually bustling with people during the day. Hannah cut through the dining room with its tables already draped with fresh white tablecloths and set for Sally’s breakfast buffet. When Hannah arrived at the kitchen door, she pulled out her key and slid it into the lock. Then she turned the doorknob and opened the door. She flicked on the huge banks of fluorescent lights and the two sisters stepped inside the huge kitchen.

“It looks a lot bigger without anyone in here,” Michelle said, looking around the huge empty space.

“I’ll bet Sally feels this way every morning when she unlocks the door. I’ll start the timer. You turn on the oven at our workstation. After that, we’ll gather the ingredients.”

With both of them working, it didn’t take long for Hannah to carry the eggs, butter, sugars, baking soda, and salt to their workstation. Michelle was right behind her with the flour, and the chips. When all the ingredients were arranged in order, Hannah turned to her sister. “We’ll do it exactly the way we did at The Cookie Jar. You run the mixer and I’ll dump.”

Michelle stationed herself at the industrial mixer and waited for Hannah to dump in the butter and the sugars. Once she’d mixed those until they were light and fluffy, she nodded to Hannah, who then added the eggs. Michelle turned the mixer up a notch and let it run while Hannah added more ingredients. Michelle scraped down the sides of the bowl, shut off the mixer, and looked back at Hannah. “Ready for dividing.”

Michelle stepped back and Hannah scooped half of the dough out of the bowl and put it in a second bowl that fit their mixer. “Ready for the vanilla,” she said.

As Michelle resumed her position and turned the mixer on low speed, Hannah dumped in the melted vanilla chips. Once that was thoroughly combined with the other ingredients, Michelle shut off the mixer, removed the bowl, and replaced it with the bowl that contained the second half of the cookie dough. “Ready for the butterscotch,” she said.

Hannah poured in the melted butterscotch chips. Michelle mixed and Hannah stood back, watching. When both of them were satisfied with the outcome, Michelle removed the bowl from the mixer while Hannah prepared a lightly floured board.

“Ready to roll,” Hannah said, dividing the half-batch of vanilla cookie dough into fourths and putting one of them on the board. Michelle quickly divided the contents of the second bowl, the one with butterscotch. Then she tore off a length of wax paper and set it on the counter next to the board. It would hold the four ropes of vanilla dough that Hannah was rolling.

Once the vanilla dough ropes were completed, Hannah began to roll the four butterscotch ropes. When that was done, there were four rolls of each flavor. Michelle tore off another length of wax paper and spread it out on the counter.

“I’m ready,” Michelle said.

Together, the two sisters transferred four dough ropes, two of each flavor to the wax paper, with a vanilla and a butterscotch on the bottom and a butterscotch and a vanilla on the top, alternating the colors and flavors. Then Hannah rolled the four ropes together to form one thicker multi-flavored roll. Michelle wrapped the finished roll in the wax paper, twisted the ends to seal them, and they began the same process all over again with the last four dough ropes.

“Done,” Hannah said after Michelle had wrapped the second large roll and placed both rolls on a cookie sheet. “Do you want to put them in the walk-in cooler, or shall I do it?”

“I’ll do it. They might want to film a little interview with you at this point in the competition. I’ll be right back.”

Michelle headed off to the walk-in cooler with the two rolls of finished dough and Hannah glanced at the clock. She knew that chilling the two ropes of dough would take fifteen minutes in the coldest part of the walk-in cooler. She’d tested that in her own walk-in cooler at The Cookie Jar. The blast chiller would be quicker, but she preferred using the method she always used for cookie dough.

Hannah watched the timer tick off the minutes. What was taking Michelle so long? She should be back here so that she could start preparing the cookie sheets.

Two minutes ticked by and stretched into four. Hannah turned to look at the walk-in cooler door. It was open and she could see Michelle standing there, just staring at something.

“Michelle?” she called out, but her sister didn’t react. Michelle just stood there like a statue, motionless and seemingly frozen in place. What in the world was wrong with . . . ?

“Oh, no!” Hannah breathed. The back of her neck was prickling and there was a cold, hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was experiencing the reaction that Mike called Hannah’s
slaydar
. He’d given an interview to the
Lake Eden Journal
, their local newspaper, and he’d explained that he used radar to locate speeders, but Hannah used her
slaydar
to find murder victims.

Hannah tried to convince herself that this time, it wasn’t the case, but there was no denying that something was dreadfully wrong. She wished that she didn’t have to walk over to the cooler and find out what was the matter, but she knew she had to do it.

“Michelle?” she called out again, hoping that it was something like a gallon of cream that had broken open and spilled all over the floor, or something that wasn’t or hadn’t ever been human. But even as she wished it, the back of her neck continued to prickle and the cold hollow feeling in her stomach intensified.

On legs that shook slightly, Hannah walked across the floor to the cooler door. She took a deep breath, stepped inside, and peered over her sister’s shoulder to see what had rendered Michelle incapable of speech or movement.

Alain Duquesne was on the floor of the cooler, splayed out on his back like a Cornish game hen ready for the roasting pan. A big piece of Hannah’s Double Rainbow Swirl Wedding Cake was partially smashed next to his body, and the knife he’d used to cut her cake was buried up to the hilt in his chest.

Hannah put her arms around Michelle. “I’m here,” she said. “It’s okay, Michelle.”

The sound of Hannah’s voice seemed to release Michelle from her frozen state and she drew a deep shuddering breath. “He . . . is . . . is he . . . dead?” she asked in a quavering voice that didn’t sound at all like the confident young woman that she was.

“Oh, yes. At least I’m ninety-nine percent sure he is. Let me take you out to the workstation, Michelle. You should sit down. Then I’ll call Mike.”