Peach Cobbler Murder (2 page)

“How do you do it?” Hannah asked, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear Andrea’s answer.

“I joined the new gym out at the mall and the minute Grandma McCann gets up to take care of Bethany, I drive out there and go to an early morning exercise class. It’s fun!”

Hannah made a face. The only early morning activity she’d dislike more would be flogging. And come to think about it, the two had a lot in common.

“I knew I had to give myself an incentive so I’d go every morning. You know how it is.”

Hannah nodded, although she’d never even considered driving to the gym every morning before she went to work.

“I figured that if I looked really good while I was exercising, I’d go. So I bought myself a cute little exercise leotard. It’s bright pink spandex trimmed with black. You should see it. It’s just darling.”

“I’ll bet it is,” Hannah said and she meant it. Why was it that only people who didn’t need to exercise looked good in exercise clothing?

“Anyway, now that I’m down to my regular weight, I decided to go back to work on a part-time basis. With Tracey in school and Grandma McCann taking care of Bethany and doing all the cooking and everything, there’s nothing for me to do at home. And besides, I want to pull my own weight financially.” Andrea turned to Lisa. “I sold your neighbor’s house this morning.”

Lisa waited until Andrea had taken a seat at the back table and then she sat down beside her. “Which neighbor?”

“Dora Lambrecht.”

“That’s great news! It’s been vacant ever since she moved out to Colorado to live with Mary Jean, and we miss having a neighbor on that side.”

Andrea took a sip of her coffee. Then she noticed the bare tabletop and her pleased expression changed to one of concern. “There aren’t any cookies?”

“There are,” Hannah reassured her, “but we thought you might like something different for a change. How about critiquing some pastry?”

“That sounds like fun! Now that I don’t have to diet, I can splurge a little, especially if its for a good cause. Bring it out.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go and get it.” Hannah delivered the news with a perfectly deadpan expressing. “Lisa and I have to stay here.”

“I can do that. Is it in the kitchen?”

“No, it’s across the street at the Magnolia Blossom Bakery. We need one of everything on their menu, including a half pan of their Southern Peach Cobbler.”

Andrea looked completely baffled for a moment, but then she started to grin. “You want me to go get takeout from your competition? And not let Shawna Lee or Vanessa know I’m bringing it back here?”

”That’s right. Are you willing to be our spy for the day?”

“I’ll do it!?”

“I’ll give you some money from the register.” Hannah pushed back her chair.

“No need. I made a nice commission on the Lambrecht sale and I can afford to treat you. I’ll just go out the back door and take my car. That way they won’t know I’ve been in here. And then I’ll bring everything right back to you. Just call me Gypsy Rose Lee.’

Gypsy Rose Lee? Hannah was stymied for a moment. Her sister had obviously made some sort of connection between the famous stripper and her own role as a spy, but Hannah had no idea what it could be.”

“Hold on a second.” Hannah caught up with Andrea as she was about to push open the swinging door to the kitchen. “What’s all this about Gypsy Rose . . . ?” The light dawned and Hannah finished her question with a laugh. There was a connection, and erroneous one. “You said Gypsy Rose Lee. Do you mean Tokyo Rose?”

“That’s it! I always get those two names mixed up. Keep my chair warm. I’ll be back in a flash with the goodies!”

Hannah had just poured herself another cup of coffee when she saw a familiar face and at the front door. It was Norman, and he was carrying a package wrapped in bright red paper printed with gold hearts and tied up with a pretty gold bow.

“Hi, Norman,” Hannah greeted him when he stepped in. “I thought you had back-to-back appointments at the clinic this morning.”

“I did, but Mrs. Barthel called to reschedule. Her husband’s gone and her car won’t start. She said by the time she called around and found someone who could come and get her and bring her to town, her appointment would be over anyway.”

Hannah understood. Helen and Ed Barthel lived at least seven miles from town and most of it was on narrow country roads that were plowed barely wide enough for two cars to pass.

“Coffee, Norman?” Lisa called out.

“Yes, thanks. And a couple of your best cookies.”

“Why don’t you wait and taste the pastry from across the street? Lisa suggested. “We sent Andrea over to bring back one of everything.”

“Okay, but I bet it won’t be as good as your cookies.”

“You mean you haven’t been over there yet?” Lisa sounded absolutely astounded.

“Not me. I don’t see any reason to go there when I’d rather come here.” Norman hung up his coat and walked to the back table with his package. “This is for you, Hannah.”

“Thank you! But isn’t it a little early for Valentine’s Day?”

“It’s not a Valentine. That’s just the only paper I could find at the Red Owl.”

“Well . . . thank you,” Hannah said again, hoping she didn’t look as flustered as she felt. Why was Norman giving her a gift? It wasn’t her birthday.

“Open it now. It was to be kept refrigerated.”

Hannah gave him a smile and ripped open the package. Life was too short to save paper and ribbon. She stared at the object inside for a moment and then she turned to Norman with a puzzled expression. “Breakfast sausage?”

“Right. After all, today’s a special day.”

“It is? The only thing special about today is that it’s . . . “ Hannah stopped in mid-sentence, gave a hoot of laughter, and leaned over to give Norman a big kiss right on the lips. “Breakfast sausage. Groundhog day,” she said and then, because it had been so much fun the first time around, she kissed him again.

“At least the lid is suitable for framing,” Hannah commented, eyeing the box that Andrea had just brought back from the Magnolia Blossom Bakery. The two southern sisters had gone all out to make sure anyone who aw their bakery box would remember it. It was gold foil cardboard with a cluster of pink and white magnolia blossoms stamped on the lid.

Lisa stared at the box for a moment. “I thought magnolia blossoms were yellow.”

“They can be yellow, pink, or white . . . or any combination of the three. Vanessa told me. They chose the pink and white for their primary colors and carried out the theme inside.”

“Pink walls?” Hannah guessed, envisioning a room the color of a piece of bubble gum.

“Creamy white. They used pink on the curtains. There’s mural of a magnolia tree in full bloom on the back wall and they picked up the dark, glossy green from the leaves and used it for an accent color on the counter and the tops of the tables.”

“Sounds nice,” Hannah said, even though she hated to admit it.

“It’s gorgeous. But then again, it should be. Shawna Lee told me they hired a decorator from Minneapolis and she commissioned an artist to paint the mural and the border of magnolia blossoms around the top of the walls.”

“Sounds expensive,” Norman commented.

“And beautiful.” Lisa looked impressed. “I wonder how much it cost.”

“Too much for us,” Hannah told her, hoping that Lisa wasn’t getting any ideas about redecorating The Cookie Jar right in the middle of their current financial slump.

“I can tell you exactly what they paid.” Andrea preened a bit, something she always did when she was about to impart inside information. “The decorator’s fee was five thousand dollars and that doesn’t include any of the furnishings.”

”Furnishings?”

“Things like mirrors, tables, chairs, and light fixtures. When I asked about the mural and the borders on the walls, Vanessa told me that the artist charged twelve hundred to paint it. And they paid him another five hundred to design the lid of their bakery box.”

“That’s a lot of money!” Lisa looked shocked. “It adds up to six thousand, seven hundred dollars.”

“Without the tables and chairs, and the other furnishings,” Hannah reminded her.

“You’re right. I forgot about that.” Lisa looked around The Cookie Jar. “At first I was a little envious, but I like our place just the way it is.”

Andrea slid one perfectly manicured nail under the tape on the bakery box. “All this reporting is making me hungry. Let’s taste their pastry. I can tell you everything else I found out while we’re eating.”

Hannah wasn’t sure quite what she expected, but it wasn’t what Andrea uncovered when she raised the lid on the bakery box. There were tartlets nestled in little paper cups, cake doughnuts with various toppings, frosted cupcakes, slices of pie encased in triangular plastic containers, a fudge brownie, several kinds of cookies, and a half pan of Southern Peach Cobbler.

“What’s the matter, Hannah?” Norman asked her. “You look disappointed.”

Hannah shrugged, examining the array of standard bakery treats. “It’s not what I thought it would be, that’s all. I guess I was hoping for really different baked goods.”

“Like what?”

“Things I’ve never tasted before, like Shoofly Pie and Apple Pandowdy.”

“From the song,” Andrea commented, pausing in her effort to remove the baked goods from the box without getting fruit, frosting, or filling on her fingers. “what is Shoofly Pie and Apple Pandowdy, anyway?”

“What are,” Hannah corrected her. “They’re two separate desserts. Shoofly Pie is an open pie filled with molasses and a sweet crumb mixture. Flies are attracted to molasses and that’s how it got its name.”

“How about Apple Pandowdy?” Lisa asked, clearly fascinated.

“That’s similar to an apple pie or a cobbler, except it’s made with molasses. It was originally associated with New England, but they make it in the southern states, too.”

Andrea looked as if she didn’t quite trust her elder sibling. “How do you know all that?”

“I looked up Shoofly Pie and Apple Pandowdy in the dictionary. It was when I was in second grade, right after Miss Gladke taught us the song. I wanted to know what kind of desserts would make my eyes light up and my stomach say howdy.”

“The only thing that looks ‘southern’ in here is the Peach Cobbler,” Norman said, eyeing the plastic container that Andrea had set on the table. “And that’s only because it’s got a little sticker saying it’s made with real Georgia peaches.”

“Norman’s right,” Lisa said with a smile. “The cupcakes are just cupcakes like everyone else makes. And the pies are just pies. That makes me feel better already!”

Hannah gave her a warning look. “Don’t crow too soon. We haven’t tasted anything yet.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to jinx us.” Lisa got up to get a knife and cut each portion into four pieces. Then they began to taste each item and Andrea made good on her promise to tell them everything she’d learned about the Magnolia Blossom Bakery.

“They don’t know their profit margin.” Andrea swallowed a bit of pie and took a sip of her coffee. “They’re not bothering to keep track because Vanessa is willing to underwrite the bakery for the first year.”

“Must be nice to have an angel,” Hannah said, using the term theater people used to describe their backers.

“That’s what Bill said when he walked me out to the car.”

“Bill was there?”

“Sitting at the counter with Mike. I rode him up one side and down the other for not coming here, but he said they only went there to check out your competition.”

Hannah’s brows knit together in a frown. According to Herb, Mike had been with Shawna Lee at midnight and perhaps he’d even spent the night. Wasn’t that more than time enough to check out her competition?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t mention this, but it was standing room only and the line at the cash register reached all the way to the back of the room. That’s why it took me so long. I had to wait in line.”

Thanks for telling me they had a lot of customers, Hannah thought. It makes me feel much better. Of course she didn’t say what she was thinking. She’d asked Andrea to report on the competition and that was exactly what her sister was doing. “What else did you find out?”

“Shawna Lee didn’t make her bed last night and she’s got a see-through peignoir set.” Andrea glanced at Norman and looked a bit embarrassed. “Sorry, Norman. I forgot you’re a bachelor. A peignoir set is . . . “

“I know what it is,” Norman said quickly.

“You do? But how do you . . . ?”

“Tell us more,” Hannah interrupted, before her sister could stick her foot any further down her throat.

“Okay. Well . . . she wears tinted contacts. I knew nobody ever had eyes that green! And she takes diet pills prescribed by a doctor in Minneapolis. Do you want to hear what I found out about Vanessa?”

“Sure,” Hannah said, indulging their personal spy.

“She’s go three raw silk dressing gowns and every single one is printed with magnolia blossoms. She must really have a thing for magnolia blossoms.”

“That’s interesting, I guess,” Lisa commented.

“But it’s not really important. The important thing is, Vanessa had at least a dozen pairs of Manolos and they were scattered all over her bedroom floor.”

“What are Manolos?” Lisa asked.

“Manolo Blahniks. Designer shoes. Very expensive. I think there might have been a couple of pairs of Louboutins mixed in, and maybe a Choo or two, but I didn’t get a chance to really look.

Hannah was amazed. “How do you know all that?”

“I snooped. Shawna Lee and Vanessa were both busy at the counter and I had Mother hold my place in line.”

“Mother was there?” Hannah gulped out the words. Not only had her not-so-loyal customers deserted her, her own mother was patronizing their rival!

“Relax, Hannah. Mother was doing the same thing I was. Luanne and Carrie were waiting for her back at Granny’s Attic and she was in line for takeout. They talked about it this morning and they decided to check out your competition.”

“Who else was in there checking out my competition?” Hannah asked the critical question.

“Cyril Murphy. He was ordering a box for his mechanics at the garage. He’s going to let me know what everyone thinks of their baking.”