Wedding Cake Murder (40 page)

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Authors: Joanne Fluke

BOOK: Wedding Cake Murder
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The sky was just beginning to darken when Michelle, Andrea, and Hannah climbed into the hot tub. A partially empty bottle of white wine sat in a cooler on the lip of the Jacuzzi, and all three Swensen sisters were holding one of their mother’s new non-breakable wineglasses.

“These are nice,” Hannah said, sinking down in the bubbles and smiling.

“Yes, they are,” Andrea agreed. “Mother told me she got a whole assortment of non-breakable glasses for the pool and Jacuzzi. She said she knocked one down from the lip of the pool and it didn’t even scratch.”

“Speaking of things that got knocked down,” Hannah said to Andrea, “did you manage to find out anything about Mayor Bascomb?”

Andrea laughed. “Yes, I did. Stephanie got him good this time. I saw that new ring he bought her, and it must have cost a fortune! I really didn’t find out much more about the mayor, although I did uncover some things about Gloria.”

“What things?” Hannah moved a little closer.

“Gloria was back in her room at Sally and Dick’s at eleven-thirty that night. I went out there for lunch yesterday and I talked to one of the waitresses in the bar. She said that Gloria called down to order a bottle of champagne and the waitress logged in the time.”

“Do you think Gloria had Mayor Bascomb with her in her room?” Michelle asked.

“No. I questioned the waitress about that, and she said she took the bottle of champagne up there herself and no one was there except Gloria.”

“Was she sure of that?” Hannah asked. “I wouldn’t put it past Mayor Bascomb to hide in the bathroom or the closet until the waitress left.”

“I asked her that. She said she noticed the bathroom door was wide open and so was the closet. There was no one else in the room. Not only that, the waitress brought up two glasses, and Gloria told her to take one back to the bar.”

“Either our esteemed mayor struck out, or he’s a fast worker.” Michelle commented.

“I heard that, Michelle!” Delores walked over to the Jacuzzi. “That wasn’t very polite, dear. But the information you received is correct, Andrea. Ricky-Ticky came home at twelve-thirty and he was reeking of perfume. That would lead me to believe that it was a rather rapid assignation.”

“That’s exactly what I said!”

“No, dear. That’s what you
should
have said. I phrased it much more delicately.”

“Hold on.” Hannah knew she had to divert what might evolve into a mother-daughter skirmish. She turned to her mother. “How do you know what time Mayor Bascomb got home?”

“I invited Stephanie for tea in the garden this afternoon and she told me. We had a nice bottle of white wine, just like the one I opened for you girls, and your caviar pie.”


You
made my caviar pie?” Hannah was thoroughly shocked. As far as Hannah knew, Delores had never used any of her recipes before.

“Yes, dear. I decided to try it because there’s no cooking or baking involved. And I must say that it turned out to be a smashing success.”

“You mean that
Stephanie
got smashed,” Michelle interpreted her mother’s polite phrase.

“Yes, although I wouldn’t have worded it quite that way, Michelle. Stephanie also mentioned that the mayor had lipstick on his shirt. She confronted him, of course. She’s had enough of these encounters with her husband to recognize the signs. And he admitted everything and begged for her forgiveness.”

“So she got a new wardrobe and expensive jewelry out of the mayor as an apology,” Andrea stated the obvious.

“That’s correct, dear. She did get a bit tiresome extolling the beauty of her new wardrobe and telling me about all of the new gems she had, but she finally left.”

“I hope she wasn’t driving!” Hannah said.

“No, dear. I told her that I’d take her home, that she’d been through an ordeal with her husband and it probably wasn’t wise for her to drive all the way home.”

“Good for you, Mother!” Michelle exclaimed. “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk.”

“Your sentiment is correct, dear. Stephanie was quite . . . wobbly on her feet, let us say. But of course, I couldn’t blame her for that. Most people would be a bit impaired if they consumed four glasses of wine in less than an hour.”

“You’re one of the most devious people I know,” Hannah said. “And
that’s
a compliment!”

“Thank you, Hannah. I’ll take it as such. Using a bottle of my best white wine did prove one thing. Given the time frame, Mayor Bascomb couldn’t have possibly killed Chef Duquesne.”

Hannah frowned slightly. “This is really helpful information, Mother, and I do appreciate it, but it doesn’t entirely clear Mayor Bascomb. Andrea found out that Gloria called down for room service at eleven-thirty that night. And Mayor Bascomb wasn’t in her room. The waitress who delivered the champagne will substantiate that. But Mayor Bascomb could have dropped Gloria off and then gone to the kitchen to kill Chef Duquesne.”

“But I haven’t told you everything yet!” Delores exclaimed. “Oh, dear! Perhaps I should have done that first.” She gestured toward the stack of thick towels by the side of the hot tub and then crooked her finger at her daughters. “Come with me, girls. I have something to show you.”

A bit reluctantly, Hannah climbed out of the Jacuzzi. Her skin was beginning to turn very pink and she knew she’d been under the jets of hot water long enough, but she wanted to stay there for the rest of her life, and not think of Chef Duquesne’s murder at all. Unfortunately, she simply had to figure out who’d killed him. She needed to do it for Michelle, who’d found him, for Brooke, who was a suspect, and for herself, simply because she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving a murder case unsolved.

The towels were warm, and Hannah snuggled into hers, wrapping it tightly around her body. Leave it to her mother to have the very best luxury towels that money could buy! She let Delores lead them all inside and down the hallway to the bedroom that she used for an office. And over to the window that looked out onto the city street.

One glance out the window and Hannah knew why Delores had brought them there. “City Hall!” she exclaimed. “Were you in here that night, Mother? And if you were, what did you see?”

“I saw Mayor Bascomb’s car pull up at ten-thirty. And I saw it leave at eleven o’ clock.”

Hannah gave her youngest sister a look that said,
Don’t make a comment right now. If you do, it’ll take forever for Mother to tell us what she knows.

Michelle must have caught her unspoken message, because she said nothing. Just as Hannah had hoped, Delores continued her story.

“As you can see, I have a great view of the mayor’s office from here. And although I can’t see into his office from this floor, I can see when the lights go on and off, and when the curtains are pulled.”

“You were looking out the window that night?” Andrea asked.

“Yes. I always look out that window when I’m searching my mind for a word or phrase I need for my books, or when I just want to rest my eyes. Doc was gone and I couldn’t sleep, so I worked late. There was an emergency appendectomy at the hospital, and he went because he knew the patient. His new intern had only done the procedure a dozen or so times. I decided to finish a chapter in my newest book, and I was here, working on the computer.”

“And you saw . . .” Hannah prompted.

“Ricky-Ticky’s car pull up at ten-thirty. Then someone pulled the curtains in his office. I didn’t see any more until the lights went out and Mayor Bascomb’s car left at eleven o’clock.”

“Speed racer,” Michelle said, under her breath.

“Then his car came back at midnight,” Delores continued, either not hearing Michelle’s comment or deliberately refusing to acknowledge it. “He was in his office until twelve-fifteen, and then the curtains were opened, the lights went back out, and a few minutes later, he drove away.”

“You’re right, Mother. That clears him,” Hannah said.

“I’m
really
sorry to hear that,” Michelle said, giving a heartfelt sigh. “He was number one in my book.”

“Michelle!” Delores looked shocked. “He’s our mayor!”

Michelle shrugged. “I know, Mother. That’s my problem. He’s our mayor!”

Just then, the doorbell rang and Delores gestured toward the large bedroom at the side of the penthouse that her daughters had used for a changing room. “Go change out of your bathing suits, girls. Our guests are here and I want all three of you to enjoy the evening.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

T
he evening had been enjoyable and the night’s sleep had been even more so. Hannah was energized and excited as they arrived at the Lake Eden Inn for the final night of the competition.

“Ready?” Michelle asked.

“I’m ready. I just hope we chose the right recipe.”

“What’s better than apple pie?” Michelle asked her.

“Absolutely nothing. It’s a really good pie.”

“And it’s an American tradition. Not only that, we’re pleasing everyone by making it two ways.” Michelle smiled. “It’s going to be wonderful, Hannah.”

“The toppings are really good,” Hannah said. “The judges are bound to like one of them, maybe all of them, but especially your ice cream. You make incredibly good ice cream, Michelle.”

Michelle looked proud. “It
was
good, wasn’t it?”

“I’ll say! I got hungry in the middle of the night so I got up and had a bowlful.”

Michelle laughed. “No wonder there was only half a container left! We had the rest on our pancakes this morning, you know.”

“You added it to the batter?”

“No. I added the leftover pureed bananas to the batter. The ice cream was mixed in the whipped cream on top.”

“No wonder it was so good! I just hope that the apple pie isn’t too ordinary. Everyone else will probably make fancier desserts.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t matter. You’re right going with the apple pie, Hannah. Just wait and see.”

 

It was time for the judging, and Hannah was a bundle of nerves.

“Smile,” Michelle said, giving her a nudge with her elbow.

“I can’t. My face is frozen.”

“Then thaw it quick and freeze it again in a smile. The cameras are panning the cooking stages, and you look scared to death. ”

Somehow Hannah managed to change her panicked expression to a smile. She held it, fixed in place, until the camera moved on. “Will this never end?” she asked, not expecting an answer.

“It’ll end and you’ll win.” Michelle sounded very sure of herself. “Just try to stay calm. The judges are getting ready to give the results to the announcer.”

As they watched, the announcer took center stage. “I’ll read the results from lowest to highest,” he said. “In fifth place is Chef Gloria Berkeley.”

There was applause from the audience as Gloria took the stage to receive her fifth place medal.”

“In fourth place is Chef Brooke Jackman.”

Hannah and Michelle applauded as Brooke came up to the announcer to receive her fourth place medal.”

“In third place is Chef Loren Berringer,” the announcer stated, and there was applause as Loren went forward to receive his third place medal.”

“And now . . . an unprecedented event has occurred. Never in the history of our Food Channel Chef competitions, have our judges had such a difficult decision. Although our top two contestants have tied for first place in tonight’s challenge, only one of them can be crowned as Food Channel’s Top Dessert Chef.”

The audience was silent. Everyone seemed to be holding their collective breath, and Hannah realized that she was also not breathing.

“Would Chef Rodney Paloma’s team and Miss Hannah Swensen’s team please join me during our commercial break while the judges make a final tally of the scores?”

Michelle nudged Hannah. “Breathe!”

Hannah managed to draw a shocked breath as she turned to Michelle.

“Smile, Hannah! I did the math last night. I’m sure you won the grand prize.”

“But . . .” Hannah took another breath. “Are you sure? You almost flunked algebra!”

“That was only because I was dating Doug Kreske, and I never bothered to study. Maybe I can’t deal with imaginary numbers and quadratic equations, but I can add up scores. You’re the winner, Hannah! I’ll stake my whole bank account on it!”

“Then you must be overdrawn again,” Hannah said with a laugh that served to relax her, and she wasn’t quite as nervous as she’d been before.

Michelle pushed her forward. “Get up there, Hannah! Rodney’s already hogging the spotlight.”

Hannah walked up to join Rodney. The die was cast, the tally was done, what would be would be, and many other fatalistic phrases danced through her head while she waited for the results.

The announcer turned to the contestants to give them a smile. “We’re back, folks!” And Helene Stone walked up to hand him the tally sheet for the grand prize.

“The judges have spoken,” the announcer intoned. “The grand prize winner of the Food Channel
Dessert Chef Competition
is . . . Miss Hannah Swensen!”

It took Hannah a moment to react. She simply couldn’t believe her good fortune. Her smile was still frozen in place as the audience applauded, and Rodney shook her hand.

“How does it feel to win the Food Channel
Dessert Chef Competition
?” the announcer asked her.

“I . . . I can’t believe it!” Hannah told him. “I never expected to win. I’m not even a real chef!”

“You are now!” the announcer said, presenting her with the trophy. “Are you going to put this on the mantel at The Cookie Jar?”

Hannah couldn’t help it. She laughed. And then she began to smile. “We don’t have a mantel at The Cookie Jar,” she said. “We don’t even have a fireplace. But I’m going to put this wonderful trophy behind the counter in the center of our display jars of cookies.”

“Are you going to take it with you on your honeymoon?” the announcer asked her.

“I might, but we’re not going to have a honeymoon. We’re going to take the weekend off, but both of us will be back at work on Monday morning.”

“Oh, no you won’t!” the announcer said, and there was a smile on his face. “We’ve cleared it with your groom’s employer, and your partner and your sisters are going to make sure that The Cookie Jar runs smoothly while you and Ross go on your Food Channel honeymoon.”

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