Читать книгу Christmas Cupcake Murder - Joanne Fluke - Страница 10

Chapter Two

“Oh, dear!” Delores gave a little cry of distress as she unlocked the door to her antique shed. “I should have come out here to check this after the first snow.”

Hannah gave a nod as she surveyed the blanket of snow on top of the blue plastic drop cloths that covered her mother’s antiques. She agreed wholeheartedly with her mother’s comment, but it was wiser to maintain her silence.

“Maybe it’s not that bad,” Carrie said. “The plastic drop cloths kept the snow off and we haven’t had any warm days this winter.”

“Carrie’s right,” Hannah agreed. “The snow didn’t melt, so there hasn’t been any water damage. Let’s pull off the drop cloths and shake them off outside. Then we can put them back on again when we find the decorations you bought.”

Delores, who had been looking very upset, brightened considerably. “You’re both right. There shouldn’t be any water damage until we hit a warm spell. And I have to get someone to repair the roof before then.”

“There’s a board loose on the side of the shed that faces the house,” Carrie pointed out. “You’d better get someone to fix that, too.”

Working together, the three women managed to pull off the drop cloths and move them outside. Once they’d shaken them clean of snow, they folded them and brought them back into the shed.

“Is that the dining room table you told me about?” Hannah asked her mother, pointing to the table stacked next to the davenport.

“Yes. I was going to refinish it this winter, but it was just too cold out here.”

“You can’t work out here,” Carrie told her, stomping her feet to keep them warm.

“I know, but the table’s too big to bring inside the garage and I don’t have room to work on it in the house.”

Hannah, who had been glancing around at the antique furniture stacked into every square inch of the shed, gave a little sigh. “This shed is a wreck, Mother. I don’t think anyone can repair it. And even if someone agrees to tackle the job, you’ll have to move all the antiques somewhere while they’re working.”

“Hannah’s right,” Carrie said. “You have some beautiful things here, Delores. That grandfather clock”, she pointed to the far wall, “is worth a bundle. Were you planning on moving it into your living room?”

Delores shook her head. “No. That was my original plan, but then Lars mentioned that he didn’t want to listen to it ticking and chiming. And it needs refinishing, while I have the works repaired.”

“This is beautiful,” Carrie commented, running her gloved hand over the top of a walnut vanity. “I used to have a maple one like this.”

“All it needs is a new mirror,” Delores told her. “Would you like it, Carrie?”

Carrie shook her head. “That’s sweet of you, Delores, and thank you for offering, but my bedroom’s too crowded as it is. I’d like to help you refinish it, though. I love to breathe new life into old wood.”

Delores smiled. “So do I! Maybe I should find someone to move it into the garage and we could work on it.”

“No,” Hannah said quickly. “The garage isn’t heated, Mother. And you get only so much ambient heat from the house. You need a place to store your antiques that’s heated and has plenty of light.”

“You mean,” Delores frowned slightly, “a storage locker?”

Hannah shook her head. “No. I was thinking about a deserted storefront with lights and heat. When you’re through at the hospital today, why don’t you two run into Lake Eden Realty to see Al Percy? He might know of the perfect place to rent.”

“That’s a good idea,” Carrie said immediately. “Delores has some lovely things and it would be a real shame if they got damaged out here because of the weather. The way they’re stacked up on top of each other isn’t good, either.”

“I know,” Delores admitted. “I just haven’t gotten around to doing anything about it. And the last time I was out here was in the summer. The roof seemed all right then.”

Which summer? Hannah’s suspicious mind prompted her to ask, but she quickly dismissed that suggestion. “It’s okay, Mother,” she said, reaching out to pat her mother’s shoulder. “It looks as though everything is still okay.”

“Yes, it does,” Carrie agreed, walking over to run her hand over a mahogany nightstand. “Between your antiques and my antiques, I think we have enough to open our own antique store.”

Delores laughed. “You’re probably right. Lars kept after me to do exactly that. But opening a store is a lot of work and I never really pursued it seriously.”

“But you kept on buying antiques,” Hannah pointed out.

Delores gave a heartfelt sigh. “I know. I just love well-made, beautiful, old furniture. Why, I have an antique chair that’s held together by wooden peg construction. I checked it out before I bought it, and there’s not a speck of glue in it.”

“They just don’t make things like that anymore,” Carrie commented. “Everything now is mass produced. I think that’s why it’s just a treat to bring old furniture back to life.”

Hannah nodded. “I can understand that. I feel the same way about trying old recipes. Sometimes they’re more work than using modern shortcuts, but they can be worth it.”

“Unless it comes to angel food cake,” Delores said. “I remember the day you and Grandma Ingrid and Great-Grandma Elsa tried baking angel food and chiffon cakes by hand.”

Hannah laughed at the memory. “You’re right, Mother. My arm was sore for a solid week from whipping those egg whites. Sometimes using modern conveniences like a stand mixer is a lot easier and quicker than making them the old way.”

Carrie turned to Delores. “Where do you think you stored those decorations?”

“Behind there,” Delores said, pointing to the antique davenport at the side of the shed. “I’m almost positive they’re stacked in big boxes behind it.”

Carrie walked over and gave the arm of the davenport a little tug. “I don’t know, Delores. The three of us might not be able to move it. Do you think I should call Norman and ask him if he can come over to help us? He doesn’t have any dental appointments this morning. He’s just down there doing billing.”

“Maybe. I know it’s really heavy. The estate auctioneer recruited four farmers to get it into the truck I rented. And Lars had Cliff and two of his friends help to get it out of the truck and move it in here.”

“Let’s try it and see if we need help,” Hannah suggested. “It would be a shame to get Norman over here if it turns out that we don’t need him.” She walked over to the davenport, grasped the wooden arm, and gave a trial tug.

“It moved!” Delores said, beginning to smile. “Do you think we can move it far enough so we can look for those boxes?”

“Yes, if we work together. But if you’re wrong and the decorations aren’t there, we’d better call for more manpower. ”

“Like Mike and a couple of the deputies?” Carrie asked her.

“Yes, but let’s hold off until we’re sure we need help.”

What ensued, as Hannah later described it to Lisa, was a scene worthy of a Three Stooges comedy. Hannah resorted to counting so they could coordinate their efforts, and finally, by the time they were all nearly exhausted, they got the heavy davenport to slide out far enough so that Delores, the thinnest member of their trio, could slip into the space behind it and look for the boxes.

“Are they there, Mother?” Hannah asked, hoping desperately that they were.

“They’re here, but the boxes are too big for me to lift by myself.”

“Let me help you,” Hannah offered, clambering over the arm of the sofa and stepping in next to her mother. “I think we can do it if we lift together. Let’s try to get them over the back of the couch and slide them down to the cushions. Then I can put them in the back of my cookie truck and drive them out to the hospital.”

“You’re going to help us decorate?” Carrie asked, looking pleased.

“Yes. All I have to do is take a quick shower and change into something . . .”

“Suitable for decorating,” Delores interrupted, finishing the sentence for Hannah.

“Yes, Mother,” Hannah said.

* * *

“I’m home, Moishe!” Hannah called out to the twenty-three pound orange and white cat who shared her apartment. “Where are you?”

There was no answering yowl from her pet and Hannah shrugged out of her parka and went to look for him. There was no sign of him in the laundry room or the kitchen. One glance told her he wasn’t on the sofa in the living room, so Hannah headed down the hallway to check the bedrooms.

The guest room was cat-less, even though she checked under the bed, so she headed for her bedroom. Moishe wasn’t sleeping in the closet and the bathroom didn’t have a feline visitor. This led Hannah to wonder if Moishe could have gotten out somehow, but the door had been locked and all the windows were shut. There was nowhere for him to go except . . .

That was the instant that she spotted the suspicious lump under the quilt on her bed. She slipped back the quilt and began to smile as she saw Moishe curled up into a comfortable-looking ball on the flannel sheets she used on her mattress in the winter.

Moishe looked highly startled for a moment and then, when he recognized her, he started to purr. Hannah reached out to pet him and he moved closer so she could pick him up.

Lifting Moishe from the bed was no easy task, but Hannah managed. She straightened up and retraced her steps, heading back to the kitchen.

“It’s not dinner time yet,” she warned him, setting him down next to his food bowl. “I just came home to take a quick shower and then I have to drive out to the hospital to help Mother and Carrie decorate for Christmas.”

“Rrrow!” Moishe complained, pawing at his empty food bowl. Then he looked up at her expectantly.

“Oh, all right,” Hannah told him, giving in to what she interpreted as a feline plea for food. “I won’t fill your bowl right now, but I’ll give you a little something to tide you over.”

With her feline roommate watching, Hannah opened the cupboard door and took down a can of tuna. As she opened it, she heard Moishe start to purr loudly. He knew what was coming and it was one of his favorite treats.

After a quick trip to the broom closet, where she kept Moishe’s large bag of dry cat food, Hannah scooped some in Moishe’s bowl and baited the top with the canned tuna. Once the remainder of the can was refrigerated for later, she left Moishe with his head buried in his food bowl and hurried off to take her shower.

Fifteen minutes later, she was back in her cookie truck, dressed in what her mother would be certain to describe as suitable decorating clothing, and she was on her way to the hospital.

As Hannah drove past fields of unbroken snow, she slipped on her sunglasses. Winter visitors to Minnesota were usually puzzled when they saw drivers wearing sunglasses, until they experienced, first-hand, the sun glaring off a snowy field. Even if they’d heard the term snow-blind before, they’d never truly understood it until they experienced the glare coming off white snow.

Hannah breathed a sigh of relief as she turned off the main road and took the county road that led to Doc Knight’s hospital. Here the huge pines that lined both sides of the road shielded the snow from the sun. She knew that if she stopped her truck for any reason, she would experience at least a ten-degree drop in temperature now that she was in the shade.

The visitors’ section of the hospital parking lot was nearly empty this time of the morning and Hannah found a spot next to her mother’s car. She hooked her sunglasses over the rearview mirror, zipped up her parka, slipped on her gloves, grabbed her purse, the one that her mother claimed was as large as a saddlebag, and got out of the truck. Since she planned to be here for several hours, she unwound the extension cord that was wrapped around her front bumper. She plugged it into the outlet and headed for the door leading to the hospital lobby.

The temperature difference was noticeable once she stepped inside the outer door. Most buildings in Minnesota had both outer and inner doors. This insulated the interior from the freezing cold in the winter and kept in the heat. The same system also worked in the summer to keep out the heat and make sure that the air-conditioning kept the inside of the hospital and all of the patients’ rooms at a comfortable temperature.

Once Hannah was inside the inner door, she headed straight for the cloakroom, a term that always amused her since practically no one wore cloaks any longer. She took off her boots, changed to the shoes she’d brought with her, and hung up her parka. Only then did she head for the receptionist desk.

“Hello, Hannah,” Becky Summers, the volunteer who was manning the front desk, greeted her. “Your mother and Carrie are in the lobby. You must be here to help them decorate.”

“You’re right,” Hannah admitted, handing over the box of cookies she’d brought with her.

“For me?” Becky looked surprised.

“Yes,” Hannah said, playing fast and loose with the truth. She’d brought the cookies for whoever was manning the desk by the door, but it wouldn’t hurt to let Becky think they’d been intended just for her. “These are Pink Peppermint Cookies.”

“I love peppermint!” Becky said reverently. “You must have remembered that it’s my favorite! Thank you, Hannah.”

“You’re welcome. Sorry that I don’t have time to stay and talk, but I’m late and Mother and Carrie are depending on me to help them decorate the Christmas tree.”

“Of course,” Becky said with a smile. “Stop by when you’re through decorating and tell me all the news from town. I’m so busy out here, I just don’t have the time to chat with anyone these days.”

Right, Hannah thought as she hurried toward the lobby where her mother and Carrie were waiting. She’d managed to escape a conversation with Becky, and that was lucky. Everyone in town knew that Becky loved to gossip and whatever Hannah said would be broadcast by phone to all Becky’s friends the moment that Becky got home from her shift at the hospital. Becky was one of the founders of the phone tree that Hannah called the Lake Eden Gossip Hotline. If there were any scandals, near-scandals, or even mildly interesting gossip, it would be reported immediately by phone to five people who would each call five more people. Then those five people would each call another five people so that within thirty minutes, everyone in Lake Eden, and in the surrounding environs, would know exactly what had happened.

There were times when Hannah wished that her mother was not an active member of the Lake Eden Gossip Hotline. It had been established years ago as a community service to spread the word about council meetings, new city parking regulations, concerts and plays at Jordan High School, and emergency events like tornadoes and blizzards. Now that almost everyone had access to cell phones, television, and radio, it was mostly gossip. Hannah had grown up knowing that it was wise to avoid any private conversations with the hotline founders. She knew that if she spoke to certain people and told them personal things, she could end up being the subject of a discussion on the Lake Eden Gossip Hotline.

PINK PEPPERMINT COOKIES

DO NOT preheat the oven. This dough needs to chill before baking.

2 cups melted butter (4 sticks, 16 ounces, 1 pound)

2 cups powdered (confectioners) sugar

1 cup white (granulated) sugar

½ cup heavy (whipping) cream

2 beaten eggs (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon cream of tartar

1 teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon peppermint extract

4 and ¼ cups flour (don’t sift - pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

3 or 4 drops red food coloring (enough to make the dough bright pink)

2 cups (11- or 12-ounce package) white chocolate or vanilla baking chips (I used Nestlé)

½ cup white (granulated) sugar in a small bowl for coating cookie dough balls

Hershey’s Candy Cane Kisses (or any soft, pink peppermint candy) to decorate

Hannah’s 1^st Note: If you want to make these cookies extra crunchy, use either white or red decorators sugar when you roll the cookie balls.

Melt the butter in a large microwave-safe bowl. Add the sugars and the cream, and stir thoroughly. Let the mixture cool to room temperature.

Add the beaten eggs, baking soda, cream of tartar, salt, and peppermint extract, stirring after each addition.

Add the flour in one-cup increments, mixing thoroughly after each increment. Add the 3 or 4 drops of red food coloring and stir well.

Add the chips and stir them in.

Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate the dough at least 2 hours (overnight’s even better).

When you’re ready to bake, preheat your oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

Roll the chilled dough into walnut-sized balls with your impeccably clean hands. Put ½ cup white sugar in a small bowl and roll the balls in it to coat them. Place them on a greased cookie sheet (or a cookie sheet you’ve sprayed with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray), 12 dough balls to a standard-sized sheet. Press the dough balls down just a little so they won’t roll off on the floor when you put them in the oven. Place a peppermint candy in the center of each dough ball and place the cookie sheet in the oven.

Bake for 10 to 12 minutes at 350 degrees F. The dough balls will flatten out, all by themselves. Let the cookies cool for 2 minutes on the cookie sheet and then move them to a wire rack to finish cooling.

Yield—approximately 7 to 8 dozen cookies, depending on cookie size.