Wicked (19 page)

Authors: Joanne Fluke

BOOK: Wicked

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The stainless-steel coffee urn gleamed brightly and Hannah smiled as she filled it with water and measured out the coffee. Lisa had scoured it yesterday, restoring it to its former splendor. Lisa was a pure godsend when it came to running the bakery and the coffee shop. She saw what needed to be done, did it without being asked, and had even come up with a few cookie recipes of her own to add to Hannah's files. It was a real pity that Lisa hadn't used her academic scholarship to go on to college, but her father, Jack Herman, was suffering from Alzheimer's and Lisa had decided to stay home to take care of him.

Hannah removed three eggs from the refrigerator behind the counter and dropped them, shells and all, into the bowl with the coffee grounds. Then she broke them open with a heavy spoon and added a dash of salt. Once she'd mixed up the eggs and shells with the coffee grounds, Hannah scraped the contents of the bowl into the basket and flipped on the switch to start the coffee.

A few minutes later, the coffee began to perk and Hannah sniffed the air appreciatively. Nothing smelled better than freshly brewed coffee, and everyone in Lake Eden said that her coffee was the best. Hannah tied on the pretty chintz apron she wore for serving her customers and ducked back through the swinging door to give Lisa her instructions.

“Bake the Chocolate Chip Crunches first, Lisa.” Hannah gave Lisa a welcoming smile.

“They're already in the ovens, Hannah.” Lisa looked up from the stainless-steel work surface, where she was scooping out dough with a melon-baller and placing the perfectly round spheres into a small bowl filled with sugar. She was only nineteen, ten years younger than Hannah was, and her petite form was completely swaddled in the huge white baker's apron she wore. “I'm working on the Molasses Crackles for the Boy Scout Awards Banquet now.”

Hannah had originally hired Lisa as a waitress, but it hadn't taken her long to see that Lisa was capable of much more than pouring coffee and serving cookies. At the end of the first week, Hannah had increased Lisa's hours from part-time to full-time and taught her to bake. Now they handled the business together, as a team.

“How's your father today?” Hannah's voice held a sympathetic note.

“Today's a good day.” Lisa placed the unbaked tray of Molasses Crackles on the baker's rack. “Mr. Drevlow is taking him to the Seniors' Group at Holy Redeemer Lutheran.”

“But I thought your family was Catholic.”

“We are, but Dad doesn't remember that. Besides, I don't see how having lunch with the Lutherans could possibly hurt.”

“Neither do I. And it's good for him to get out and socialize with his friends.”

“That's exactly what I told Father Coultas. If God gave Dad Alzheimer's, He's got to understand when Dad forgets what church he belongs to.” Lisa walked to the oven, switched off the timer, and pulled out a tray of Chocolate Chip Crunches. “I'll bring these in as soon as they're cool.”

“Thanks.” Hannah went back through the swinging door again and unlocked the street door to the coffee shop. She flipped the “Closed” sign in the window to “Open,” and checked the cash register to make sure there was plenty of change. She'd just finished setting out small baskets of sugar packets and artificial sweeteners when a late-model dark green Volvo pulled up in the spot by the front door.

Hannah frowned as the driver's door opened and her middle sister, Andrea, slid out of the driver's seat. Andrea looked perfectly gorgeous in a green tweed jacket with politically correct fake fur around the collar. Her blond hair was swept up in a shining knot on the top of her head and she could have stepped from the pages of a glamour magazine. Even though Hannah's friends insisted that she was pretty enough, just being in the same town with Andrea always made Hannah feel hopelessly frumpy and unsophisticated.

Andrea had married Bill Todd, a Winnetka County deputy sheriff, right after she'd graduated from high school. They had one daughter, Tracey, who had turned four last month. Bill was a good father on his hours away from the sheriff 's station, but Andrea had never been cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. When Tracey was only six months old, Andrea had decided that they'd needed two incomes and she'd gone to work as an agent at Lake Eden Realty.

The bell on the door tinkled and Andrea blew in with a chill blast of autumn wind, hauling Tracey behind her by the hand. “Thank God you're here, Hannah! I've got a property to show and I'm late for my appointment at the Cut 'n Curl.”

“It's only eight, Andrea.” Hannah boosted Tracey up onto a stool at the counter and went to the refrigerator to get her a glass of milk. “Bertie doesn't open until nine.”

“I know, but she said she'd come in early for me. I'm showing the old Peterson farm this morning. If I sell it, I can order new carpeting for the master bedroom.”

“The Peterson farm?” Hannah turned to stare at her sister in shock. “Who'd want to buy that old wreck?”

“It's not a wreck, Hannah. It's a fixer-upper. And my buyer, Mr. Harris, has the funds to make it into a real showplace.”

“But why?” Hannah was honestly puzzled. The Peterson place had been vacant for twenty years. She'd ridden her bicycle out there as a child and it was just an old two-story farmhouse on several acres of overgrown farmland that adjoined the Cozy Cow Dairy. “Your buyer must be crazy if he wants it. The land's practically worthless. Old man Peterson tried to farm it for years and the only things he could grow were rocks.”

Andrea straightened the collar of her jacket. “The client knows that, Hannah, and he doesn't care. He's only interested in the farmhouse. It's still structurally sound and it has a nice view of the lake.”

“It's sitting smack-dab in the middle of a hollow, Andrea. You can only see the lake from the top of the roof. What does your buyer plan to do, climb up on a ladder every time he wants to enjoy the view?”

“Not exactly, but it amounts to the same thing. He told me that he's going to put on a third story and convert the property to a hobby farm.”

“A hobby farm?”

“That's a second home in the country for city people who want to be farmers without doing any of the work. He'll hire a local farmer to take care of his animals and keep up the land.”

“I see,” Hannah said, holding back a grin. By her own definition, Andrea was a hobby wife and a hobby mother. Her sister hired a local woman to come in to clean and cook the meals, and she paid baby-sitters and day-care workers to take care of Tracey.

“You'll watch Tracey for me, won't you, Hannah?” Andrea looked anxious. “I know she's a bother, but it's only for an hour. Kiddie Korner opens at nine.”

Hannah thought about giving her sister a piece of her mind. She was running a business and her shop wasn't a day-care center. But one glance at Tracey's hopeful face changed her mind. “Go ahead, Andrea. Tracey can work for me until it's time for her to go to preschool.”

“Thanks, Hannah.” Andrea turned and started toward the door. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Can I really work, Aunt Hannah?” Tracey asked in her soft little voice, and Hannah gave her a reassuring smile.

“Yes, you can. I need someone to be my official taster. Lisa just baked a batch of Chocolate Chip Crunches and I need to know if they're good enough to serve to my customers.”

“Did you say
chocolate
?” Andrea turned back at the door to frown at Hannah. “Tracey can't have chocolate. It makes her hyperactive.”

Hannah nodded, but she gave Tracey a conspiratorial wink. “I'll remember that, Andrea.”

“I'll see you later, Tracey,” Andrea said and blew her daughter a kiss. “Don't be any trouble for your aunt Hannah, okay?”

Tracey waited until the door had closed behind her mother and then she turned to Hannah. “What's hyperactive, Aunt Hannah?”

“It's another word for what kids do when they're having fun.” Hannah came out from behind the counter and lifted Tracey off the stool. “Come on, honey. Let's go in the back and see if those Chocolate Chip Crunches are cool enough for you to sample.”

Lisa was just slipping another tray of cookies into the oven when Hannah and Tracey came in. She gave Tracey a hug, handed her a cookie from the tray that was cooling on the rack, and turned to Hannah with a frown. “Ron hasn't come in yet. Do you suppose he's out sick?”

“Not unless it came on suddenly.” Hannah glanced at the clock on the wall. It was eight-fifteen and Ron was almost forty-five minutes late. “I saw him two hours ago when I drove past the dairy, and he looked just fine to me.”

“I saw him, too, Aunt Hannah.” Tracey tugged on Hannah's arm.

“You did? When was that, Tracey?”

“The cow truck went by when I was waiting outside the realty office. Mr. LaSalle waved at me and he gave me a funny smile. And then Andrea came out with her papers and we came to see you.”

“Andrea?” Hannah looked down at her niece in surprise.

“She doesn't like me to call her Mommy anymore because it's a label and she hates labels,” Tracey did her best to explain. “I'm supposed to call her Andrea, just like everyone else.”

Hannah sighed. Perhaps it was time to have a talk with her sister about the responsibilities of motherhood. “Are you sure you saw the Cozy Cow truck, Tracey?”

“Yes, Aunt Hannah.” Tracey's blond head bobbed up and down confidently. “It turned at your corner and went into the alley. And then I heard it make a loud bang, just like Daddy's car. I knew it came from the cow truck because there weren't any other cars.”

Hannah knew exactly what Tracey meant. Bill's old Ford was on its last legs and it backfired every time he eased up on the gas. “Ron's probably out there tinkering with his truck. I'll go and see.”

“Can I come with Aunt Hannah?”

“Stay with me, Tracey,” Lisa spoke up before Hannah could answer. “You can help me listen for the bell and wait on any customers that come into the coffee shop.”

Tracey looked pleased. “Can I bring them their cookies, Lisa? Just like a real waitress?”

“Absolutely, but it's got to be our secret. We wouldn't want your dad to bust us for violating the child-labor laws.”

“What does âbust' mean, Lisa? And why would my daddy do it?”

Hannah grinned as she slipped into her jacket and listened to Lisa's explanation. Tracey questioned everything and it drove Andrea to distraction. Hannah had attempted to tell her sister that an inquiring mind was a sign of intelligence, but Andrea just didn't have the necessary patience to deal with her bright four-year-old.

As Hannah pulled open the door and stepped out, she was greeted by a strong gust of wind that nearly threw her off balance. She pushed the door shut behind her, shielded her eyes from the blowing wind, and walked forward to peer down the alley. Ron's delivery truck was parked sideways near the mouth of the alley, blocking the access in both directions. The driver's door was partially open and Ron's legs were dangling out.

Hannah moved forward, assuming that Ron was stretched out on the seat to work on the wiring that ran under the dash. She didn't want to startle him and cause him to bump his head, so she stopped several feet from the truck and called out. “Hi, Ron. Do you want me to phone for a tow truck?”

Ron didn't answer. The wind was whistling down the alley, rattling the lids on the metal Dumpsters, and perhaps he hadn't heard her. Hannah walked closer, called out again, and moved around the door to glance inside the truck.

The sight that greeted Hannah made her jump back and swallow hard. Ron LaSalle, Lake Eden's local football hero, was lying faceup on the seat of his delivery truck. His white hat was on the floorboards, the orders on his clipboard were rattling in the wind, and one of Hannah's cookie bags was open on the seat. Chocolate Chip Crunches were scattered everywhere and Hannah's eyes widened as she realized that he was still holding one of her cookies in his hand.

Then Hannah's eyes moved up and she saw it: the ugly hole ringed with powder burns in the very center of Ron's Cozy Cow delivery shirt. Ron LaSalle had been shot dead.

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Everyone in Lake Eden, Minnesota, may have had their doubts, but at long last, Hannah Swensen is getting married!

Hannah is thrilled to be marrying Ross Barton, her college crush. And her excitement only grows when she learns he'll be able to join her on her trip to New York City for the Food Channel's dessert chef contest. They get a taste of the Big Apple before Hannah wins the Hometown Challenge and the producers bring all the contestants to Lake Eden to tape the remainder of the show. It's nerve-wracking enough being judged by Alain Duquesne, a celebrity chef with a nasty reputation. But it's even more chilling to find him stabbed to death in the Lake Eden Inn's walk-in coolerâbefore he's even had a chance to taste Hannah's Butterscotch Sugar Cookies! Now Hannah has not only lost her advantage, she'll have to solve a mystery with more layers than a five-tiered wedding cakeâ¦

Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of...

WEDDING CAKE MURDER

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wherever print and e-books are sold!

Click here to get your copy.

CHAPTER ONE

“No, it's not the wedding I dreamed of, but it
is
the wedding I want!” Hannah Swensen's hands shook slightly as she replaced her cup of coffee in the bone china saucer. She'd been so startled by Grandma Knudson's question that a few drops had sloshed out of her cup and landed in its matching saucer. The matriarch of Holy Redeemer Lutheran Church was known for being outspoken, but Hannah hadn't expected to be grilled about her upcoming nuptials when Grandma Knudson had called her at The Cookie Jar, Hannah's coffee shop and bakery, and invited her to the parsonage for coffee.

“Everyone's talking, you know,” Grandma Knudson confided, leaning forward in her chair. “No one can understand why they haven't been invited to the wedding. I told them you preferred a small, intimate family affair, but they feel left out. And almost everyone from my Bible study group asked me if there was something wrong.”

“Wrong?” Hannah repeated, not certain what Grandma Knudson meant.

“Yes. People always think that there's something wrong when a wedding takes place behind closed doors. Weddings aren't supposed to be private. They're supposed to be joyous celebrations.”

“I
am
joyous! I mean,
joyful.
And so is Ross. I just thought it might be easier for everyone if we didn't have a big public display.”

“Because of Norman and Mike?”

“Well . . . yes. That's part of the reason. This is rather sudden, and they haven't had time to get used to the idea that Ross and I are getting married. I thought it would be . . .” Hannah paused, trying to think of another word, but only one came to mind. “I thought it would be
easier
for them this way,” she finished.

Grandma Knudson was silent as she stared at Hannah, and that made Hannah want to explain. “You know . . .” she continued. “If I'd invited everyone to a huge wedding and reception, it would be almost like . . . like . . .”

The older woman let her struggle for a moment, and then she gave a nod. “Like rubbing their noses in it?”

“Yes! I mean, not exactly. But some people might think that that's what I was doing.”

“Perhaps,” Grandma Knudson conceded. “Tell me about Ross. Did he think that a small, private wedding was a good idea?”

“I . . . actually . . .” Hannah paused and took a deep breath. “Ross and I didn't really talk about that. He just told me that anything I wanted to do about the wedding would be fine with him.”

“I see. Did you at least meet with Mike and Norman and talk to them about what you'd decided?”

“No. I wanted to spare their feelings. I thought it might be too painful for them to discuss it.”

“You mean you thought it might be too painful for
you
to discuss it, don't you?” Grandma Knudson corrected her bluntly.

Hannah sighed heavily. She had to be truthful. “Perhaps you're right,” she admitted, and made a move to pick up her cup and saucer rather than meet the older woman's eyes. “I guess I really wasn't thinking clearly, and I certainly didn't think that a small wedding would cause all this fuss. I just wanted to get married before I had to leave for the Food Channel
Dessert Chef Competition.
I thought that Ross could go with me and it would be our honeymoon.”

“I see. And the competition is in three weeks?”

“That's right.” Hannah managed to take a sip of her coffee and then she put it back down on the table again. Why was Grandma Knudson asking all these questions? There must be a reason. As Hannah sat there, trying to think of why Grandma Knudson was giving her the third degree, the light dawned. “Mother!” Hannah said with a sigh.

“What did you say?”

“I said
Mother.
She put you up to this, didn't she? She wanted me to have a big wedding and I refused. So Mother came running to you to see if you could convince me to change my mind! Isn't Mother the reason you invited me here for coffee?”

“She's part of the reason. But the other part is that I wanted you to taste my lemon pie. It's the easiest pie I've ever made. All you need is a lemon, sugar, butter, and eggs. You put everything in a blender, pour it into one of those fancy frozen piecrusts Florence carries down at the Red Owl, and bake it. But you haven't even sampled it yet.”

Hannah looked down at the dessert plate resting next to her cup and saucer. Grandma Knudson's pie did look delicious. “Is that crÃ¨me fraiche on the top?”

“Yes. It's your crÃ¨me fraiche, the one you use on your strawberry shortcake. And if you don't want to go to the bother of making that, you can use vanilla ice cream or sweetened whipped cream. Taste it, Hannah. I want your opinion.”

Hannah picked up her fork and took a bite. And then she took another bite. “It's delicious,” she said. “It has exactly the right amount of tartness to balance the sweetness.”

“I'm glad you like it, but let's get back to Mike and Norman. You're not getting off the hot seat so easily. Your mother's very upset, you know. People have been stopping her on the street and asking when your wedding invitations will arrive.”

“Did she tell them that it was a small, private wedding?”

Grandma Knudson shook her head. “No. She was too embarrassed. You know as well as I do what people think when you get married so fast in a small, private ceremony.”

“They think I'm . . . ?” There was no way Hannah could finish her question. She was too shocked.

“Of course they think that. It's usually the case, especially with a first marriage like yours. There's even a betting pool that Hal McDermott set up down at the cafÃ© for the date the baby will be born.”

Hannah's mouth dropped open and she shut it quickly. And then she gave a rueful laugh. “What happens to the betting pool if there's no baby? Because there isn't!”

“Good question. My guess is that Hal gets to keep the proceeds, and that's not right. I think I'll have Bob and Claire go down there and convince him to give all that money to the local charities. That would serve people right for betting on something like that!”

“Do you think Hal will agree to give the money to charity?”

“He'll have to. Betting pools are illegal in Winnetka County, and Hal knows it. So is playing poker for money behind that curtain of his in the back room of the cafÃ©. He'll knuckle under. You don't have to worry about that. And if he doesn't, Bob will give a rousing sermon about gambling the next time Rose drags Hal to church.”

Hannah couldn't help it. She laughed. Grandma Knudson always got what she wanted, and this would be no exception.

“That's better,” Grandma Knudson commented. “It's good to hear you laugh. Now what are you going to do about Mike and Norman?”

“What do
you
think I should do? Invite them to be Ross's groomsmen at a huge church wedding?”

“I think that's
exactly
what you should do! Give Mike and Norman a chance to step up to the plate. As it stands right now, everyone's buzzing about the fact that their hearts are broken. If both of them are in the wedding party, it'll put all those wagging tongues to rest. Believe you me, they'll jump at the chance to do that!”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm positive.” Grandma Knudson locked eyes with Hannah. “Neither one of those men enjoys being the butt of gossip, and both of them like Ross. Of course they're disappointed that you didn't choose one of them, but they'll do the right thing if you ask them.”

Hannah thought about that for a moment. Norman and Mike
did
like Ross. The three men were friends. And she knew that Ross liked Mike and Norman. If she'd said she wanted a big wedding and asked Ross to choose two men to be groomsmen, he would probably have chosen Mike and Norman.

“Well?”

Grandma Knudson was waiting for an answer, and Hannah hedged a little. “You may be right, but I'll have to ask Ross what he thinks of the idea.”

“I did that this morning. I called Ross at work and he said it was fine with him if that was what you wanted. And Mike and Norman are definitely on board. I double-checked with them right afterwards. And both of them told me that they'll accept if you ask them.”

“You called Mike and Norman, too?”

“Of course I did. I wanted to make sure this would work.”

Hannah gave a little groan. Railroaded. She'd been railroaded, but Grandma Knudson had a point she couldn't ignore. If everyone in town was gossiping about her and Hal had even set up a betting pool, she had to do something to turn things around. And then she remembered what Grandma Knudson had said. “You said you double-checked with Mike and Norman this morning?”

“Yes.”

“If you
double
-checked, that means you or someone else had checked with them
before
this morning. Was that someone you?”

Grandma Knudson looked slightly flustered. “Actually . . . no.”

With a burst of lightning clarity, Hannah saw the whole picture. Her eyes narrowed and she faced the matriarch of the church squarely. “
Mother
checked with them before you did. Is that right?”

Grandma Knudson sighed. “Yes, but she didn't want you to know that it was her idea.”

“That figures,” Hannah said with a sigh.

“Your mother is an expert when it comes to gossip,” Grandma Knudson attempted to explain, “but she was afraid you'd reject her plan out of hand if she was the one to suggest it. That's why she asked me to talk to you about it. And I did. Your mother, Andrea, and Michelle are already working out the details of your wedding.”

“They're planning my wedding without me?”

“Yes, but you know how long wedding plans take. Delores and the girls have everything organized, but nothing's been firmed up yet. All they need is for you to give them the go-ahead.”

Hannah was silent. She wasn't quite ready to cave in yet.

“Your mother said to tell you that she knows you're busy at The Cookie Jar and you have to be in New York for the dessert competition very soon. She's absolutely certain that everything will be ready so that you can get married, have a reception at the Lake Eden Inn, and leave for New York the next morning.”

“Mother can pull off a big wedding in less than three weeks?”

“Yes. And you don't have to do any wedding planning. Your sisters and Delores are completely prepared to arrange everything.”

Again, Hannah was silent. She didn't like the idea of turning everything over to her mother and sisters, but it seemed like the only reasonable option since she'd made such a mess of it on her own.

“Delores said to tell you that there are only two things you have to do,” Grandma Knudson spoke again. “The first thing is to choose your wedding dress. Your mother has already consulted with Claire at Beau Monde, and Claire has ordered more than a half-dozen gowns for your approval. When they come in, Claire will let you know so that you can run next door to try them on. All you have to do is choose the one you want to wear and Claire will do any alterations you might need.”

Hannah gave a slight smile. At least they were letting her choose her own wedding gown! And it was true that she didn't have time to organize a big wedding. The nightmare of trying to arrange Delores's wedding was still fresh in her mind. There was no way she wanted to get involved in a morass like that again, but she was the bride and it was a bit disconcerting not to be involved in any of the planning. “What's the second thing they want me to do?” she asked.

“Show up at the church on time.”

Hannah's sarcastic nature kicked in, and the question popped out of her mouth before she could exercise restraint. “Do they want me to show up with or without Ross?”

Grandma Knudson burst into laughter. “With Ross. Not even your mother could accomplish a wedding without a groom.” The older woman reached out to take Hannah's hand. “Are you all right with this plan, Hannah? If you're not, we can try to come up with something else that'll work.”

Grandma Knudson was waiting for an answer and Hannah took a deep breath. “Yes, I'm all right with it as long as Ross and I can get married before the Food Channel competition. Do you think that's possible?”

“Your mother assured me that it was.”

Hannah gave a reluctant nod. “All right then. I'll do it, if you'll do something for me.”

“What's that?”

“I'd like a second piece of your lemon pie, and I'd also like to have the recipe. It's the best non-meringue lemon pie I've ever tasted!”

EASY LEMON PIE

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

Note from Grandma Knudson:
I got this recipe from my friend, Lois Brown, who lives in Phoenix, AZ. She has a lemon tree in her backyard so she always has lemons to make this pie.

Hannah's 1
^stNote: You can make this recipe in a food processor or a blender. We use a food processor down at The Cookie Jar.

1 frozen 9-inch piecrust
(or one you've made yourself)

1 whole medium-size lemon

Â½ cup butter
(1 stick, 4 ounces, Â¼ pound)

1 cup white
(granulated)
sugar

4 large eggs