Peach Cobbler Murder (20 page)

DESPERATION COOKIES

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

2 cups melted butter (4 sticks, one pound) 3 cups white sugar 1 ½ cups brown sugar 4 teaspoons vanilla 4 teaspoons baking soda 2 teaspoons salt 4 beaten eggs 5 cups flour (no need to sift) 3 cups chips
4 cups chopped nuts*

*
Use any combination of regular chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, white chocolate chips, milk chocolate chips, vanilla chips, cherry chips, strawberry chips, peanut butter chips, or any other flavors you think will go together.

Use any nuts you like including walnuts, pecans, cashews, almonds, even peanuts. If you don’t have enough nuts to make 4 cups, fill in with crushed cornflakes, Rice Krispies, coconut, raisins, or any dried fruit.

Melt the butter. (Nuke if for 3 minutes on high in a microwave-safe container, or in a pan on the stove.) Mix in the white sugar and the brown sugar. Add the vanilla, baking soda, salt, and mix. Add the eggs and stir it all up. Then add half the flour, the chips, and the chopped nuts. Stir well to incorporate. Then add the rest of the flour and mix thoroughly.

Drop by teaspoons onto greased cookie sheets, 12 cookies to a standard-size sheet. If the dough is too sticky to handle, chill it slightly and try again. Bake at 350 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes or until nicely browned.

Let cool two minutes, then remove cookies from the baking sheet and transfer to a wire rack to finish cooling.

Yield: Approximately 10 dozen.

Norman really likes these cookies. He says they’re like life in Lake Eden because you’re never quite sure what to expect.

Bouchard’s Bouquets had an incredible display in the window and Hannah and Andrea stopped to admire it. It was called Delicious Daisies and it consisted of pieces of fruit cut to look like daisies and other flowers. The flowers were held in place with long wooden skewers and arranged in a pretty basket.

Hannah stared in silent admiration for long moments. It was almost impossible for her to believe that such gorgeously succulent fruit could be found in Minnesota in the winter. There were daisies cut out of fresh pineapple with raspberries at the center of each flower. Red grapes and green grapes strung on wooden skewers looked like exotic ferns on long stems, and strawberries, point out, provided riotous splashes of color. Cheese wedges cut in fancy shapes and skewered in place served as a yellow, orange, and white accompaniment to the fruit, and the card that advertised the sumptuous bouquet stated that the whole arrangement, with the exception of the skewers and the basket, was entirely edible.

“It’s got to cost a fortune,” Andrea breathed, and Hannah knew she was wishing she’d gotten one for Bill’s inaugural party when almost everyone in town had shown up to see him sworn in as Winnetka County Sheriff.

“I’m sure neither one of us could afford it,” Hannah said, hoping that Andrea wasn’t going to order one just because it was pretty and put it on a credit card. “What we ought to do is take a picture. Lisa’s so artistic, I’ll bet she’ll try to make one as soon as fruit is in season.”

“I wonder where they get their fruit,” Andrea mused.

“I don’t know, but it’s almost too beautiful to be real.” Hannah stopped and began to frown. “Do you think it is?”

”Do I think what is?”

“The fruit. Do you think it’s real?”

“I don’t know. I’ll ask.” Andrea started to lead the way into the shop with Hannah in close pursuit. But then she stopped suddenly and turned in her tracks, nearly causing Hannah to mow her over.

“What?” Hannah asked, noticing her sister’s intent expression.

“I think you should go sit on that bench over there, and eat your pretzel before it gets cold. You can’t eat it inside anyway. I’ll go talk to Kyle by myself. He already known you, and he might clam up if both of us start asking questions. This way I’m just a talkative stranger who happened to drop in to ask about the fruit. I’ll come out when I’m through pumping him for information and let you know what he said.”

“That’s fine with me,” Hannah agreed, backing off and heading toward the bench without another word. Andrea was a wizard at getting people to talk and she’d be smart to go along with whatever her sister thought would work.

Ten minutes and most of a soft pretzel slathered with mustard later, Hannah was wondering what was taking her sister so long. She was about to get off the bench and wander past the window to see if she could spot Kyle and Andrea in the interior of the shop when a familiar voice called out her name.

“Mike?” Hannah whirled around and swallowed noisily. There he was across the mall from her with his reddish blond hair and mustache, piercing blue eyes, and six-foot-three-inch frame resplendent in his Winnetka County Sheriff Deputy’s uniform. It was enough to take a girl’s breath away, and Hannah was no exception even though she was no longer a girl. And even though she was still angry at him, her heart started the old familiar Mike Kingston drumroll in her chest.

Despite her resolve to ignore him, Hannah’s hand had a mind of its own. It rose and her fingers waggled a greeting that Mike must have construed as an invitation, for he headed straight toward her across the steady stream of people filing into the movie theater.

Hannah knew she was a goner is she looked in to his eyes, so she concentrated on the area right between his eyebrows instead. “Going to the movies?” she asked, with what she thought was just the right note of casual curiosity in her voice.

“Not unless there’s something you want to see.”

Hannah wasn’t sure how to respond. Had he just invited her to the movies? Or was he merely asking if she approved of the lineup the six-plex was showing? If it was the former, she wasn’t interested. If it was the later, it was only polite to respond. The safest thing would be to treat it as a joke and Hannah settled for the first thing that popped into her head after quick glance at the marquee. “I’ve already seen Revenge of the Turtle Gods three times. I guess I don’t really need to see it again.”

“Revenge of the . . . “ Mike stopped and stared at her. Hard. Then he laughed. “You’re kidding . . . right?”

”Right.”

“So why don’t we go get something to eat? I’m not working tonight, and I’d really like to talk to you, Hannah.”

“Sorry, but I’m out here with someone, and . . . “

“Hi, Mike,” Andrea interrupted Hannah in mid-excuse. “What bring you out here? Crime in the mall?”

“Just checking out a couple of alibis. How about you?”

“Ordering pens for Al.”

“Hannah and I were just talking about going to get something to eat. Are you interested?”

“No, you two go ahead. I have to be home by nine.” Andrea ignored the dirty look her elder sister gave her. “I’ll call you later, Hannah. The fruit’s fake, and I found out more.”

Mike gave Andrea a wave as she headed off and then he turned to Hannah. “Somebody’s selling fake fruit?”

“No, it was just a window display. I said it looked too good to be real, and Andrea went in to ask.”

Mike reached out to take Hannah’s arm and tucked her hand in his. “So where are we going for dinner?”

“The Lake Eden Inn,” Hannah said promptly, naming one of her very favorite restaurants. She figured that since she’d been shanghaied by Mike with the help of her sister, she might as well make it worth her while.

“Great dinner,” Mike said, pulling up in back of The Cookie Jar. “Are you sure you don’t want me to follow you home? ”

“I’m positive,” Hannah replied, not voicing the full sentence that ran through her head. I’m positive I do want you to follow me home and I’m also positive I shouldn’t let you do it.

“So did you mean it when you said you’ve got it?’

“Got what?” Hannah asked, thoroughly confused by the question.

“The recipe for Orange Julius.”

“I’ve got it. It might not be the recipe for the bona fide Orange Julius, but it tastes close enough to the real thing to fool everyone.”

”Did I tell you why I need it?”

Hannah wondered whether the two glasses of wine Mike had consumed during dinner had somewhat altered his perceptions. But that was unlikely. She’d seen him drink much more than that and remain perfectly sober and lucid. “You said you knew a couple of people who were really disappointed when the stand at their mall closed.”

“Right. And our mall doesn’t have a stand, either. I checked the directory while I was out there. Do you think the Orange Julius company went out of business?”

Hannah shrugged, wondering why he was so interested. “I don’t know.”

“How about the recipe? Do you have it here at The Cookie Jar?”

“Yes, it’s in my master file. We use it a lot for children’s parties. I just made some for a birthday party we catered a couple of weeks ago.”

“Then you’ve got everything you need to make it?’

“Sure. It’s one of our staples. We offer lemonade, Orange Julius, milk, or punch.”

“So you could make it any time you wanted to make it?”

Hannah turned to look at Mike in the dim light that was coming from the dash of his car. He was acting very strange and she wasn’t sure why. “I guess I could make it anytime. Why?”

“I’d really appreciate it if you’d go inside and make me some.”

Hannah stared at Mike in bewilderment. “You want an Orange Julius right now?”

“Yes. I really need it, Hannah. Will you do it?”

“Sure,” Hannah said, climbing out of Mike’s car and leading the way to the back door of her shop. If she didn’t know him so well, she’d swear Mike as having a nervous breakdown. Come to think about it . . . maybe she didn’t know him all that well. In any event, he’d just bought her an incredibly good dinner and the beef Wellington she’d ordered hadn’t come cheap. The least she could do wad honor his request, throw the ingredients for Orange Julius in the blender, and zoop them up for him.

Once Mike was seated on a stool at the workstation, Hannah gathered the supplies she needed and plugged in her heavy-duty blender. “This is going make almost two quarts and you’re supposed to serve it over ice. Do you want to take it home with you?”

“Yeah. Except I’m not going home. I’m going across the street to Shawna Lee’s.”

Hannah stopped in the act of pouring the orange juice into the blender. “Vanessa’s back?”

“Not yet.” Mike glanced at the clock on the wall. “She’s landing right about now. As soon as she picks up her luggage, she’ll get her car from the airport and drive to Lake Eden. Traffic should be light, so I figure she’ll get here by midnight at the latest.”

“So . . . you know her schedule?”

“Yeah. I talked to her on the phone this morning. When she said she was driving back to town tonight, I said I’d meet her in the bakery.”

“You’ve got a key?”

“Shawna Lee gave me one so I could, uh, check out the interior when they weren’t home. You know, in case someone broke in.”

“Right,” Hannah said, instead of Who do you think you’re trying to kid here?”

“Anyway, I didn’t think she should go into the bakery alone in the dark. I mean, with her sister being killed there and all. So I said I’d meet her.”

Suspicion narrowed Hannah’s eyes. Some people might think it was sweet of Mike to think of Vanessa’s feelings, but he could have recommended that she stay at a hotel and drive to Lake Eden in the morning. Ws there another reason why Mike had agreed to meet her inside when she got home? Local gossip had it that the two southern sisters traded boyfriends. When one would tire of a certain guy and stop dating him, the other sister would take over where her sibling had left off. Had Vanessa planned to step in with Mike when Shawna Lee tired of him?

Whoa! Hannah’s mind shouted out a halt. Perhaps Vanessa really wanted Mike, wanted him so badly, she’d do anything to get him. And perhaps Shawna Lee hadn’t wanted to give him up quite yet. Would Vanessa kill her own sister to get the man she wanted for herself? Had she really flown back to Georgia on the night that Shawna Lee was killed? Or had she shot her own sister and caught a later flight? It was a possibility that Hannah couldn’t ignore.

“We’re going to spend the night talking about Shawna Lee,” Mike went on. “Vanessa wants it to be like a wake.”

Hannah hadn’t really thought about it before, but Quinn was an Irish name. “So they’re Irish?”

“No. Their great-grandfather shortened the family name to Quinn because nobody could pronounce the real one.”

“Okay. If Vanessa’s not Irish, why does she want a wake for Shawna Lee?”

“Because she saw it in a movie and she thought it was a good way to remember someone. She said she’s got lots of stories to tell me about when they were growing up. I’d invite you, but I know you didn’t really like Shawna Lee all that well.”

You got that right! Hannah thought, but of course she didn’t say it. Instead, she asked, “So why did you want a pitcher of Orange Julius?”

“It was Shawna Lee’s all-time favorite drink. Vanessa told me they used to spike cups of Orange Julius with vodka and walk around the mall sipping. Then, when they worked up the nerve, they’d go into the bridal store and try on the wedding gowns. Isn’t that sad?”

“Isn’t what sad?”

“That Shawna Lee loved to try on wedding gowns, but she never got to wear one.”

“Mmm,” Hannah said, figuring that a noncommittal response was her best. How could she be charitable toward Shawna Lee when the southern sister had been doing her utmost to wear that wedding gown with Mike?

“Anyway, I didn’t want to go over there too early. Too many memories, you know? That’s why I was so glad to see you at the mall. Going out to dinner with you was a great way to kill some time. I mean . . . we both had to eat, right?”

“Right.” Any guilt Hannah might have felt about ordering something expensive vanished into thin air. Mike had used her, pure and simple.

“And then, when you said you knew how to make Orange Julius, it was just perfect.”

“Perfect,” Hannah repeated, gritting her teeth before she said something she might, or might not, later regret.

“I’ll spike it with vodka just like they used to do, and if Vanessa wants to get smashed, I’ll stay and hold her hand. There’s only one problem with seeing her tonight. She’s going to want to know how the investigation’s coming along, and I don’t know what to tell her.”