Peach Cobbler Murder (24 page)

“I need to think clearer,” Vanessa said, ignoring the little grammar lesson Hannah had done her best to impart. “I just never thought I’d be without my big sister!”

Hannah reached out to move the rum balls closer. Andrea had gotten the husband’s first name and now they needed his last name. “It must be hard, especially since you just lost Mr. . . . I’m sorry. I don’t know your husband’s last name.”

“Roper. Neil Roper. He was a lot older than me, but I just loved him to pieces, you know?”

Hannah gave a polite nod to indicate that she understood, but it made her wonder exactly how Vanessa’s octogenarian husband had died. If Neil Roper had been hacked up into body parts by an intruder, Vanessa might very well have had a part in it.

“Neil was so wonderful to me! I had everything I ever wanted and you should see the showplace he left me. it’s a real southern mansion, with Magnolia trees and everything.”

It was Andrea’s turn to nod and smile. “I’ve always wanted to live on a southern plantation, ever since the first time I saw Gone With The Wind. Where is your mansion, Vanessa?”

“Just outside of Macon. That’s where Neil’s headquarters are.” Vanessa turned to Hannah and abruptly changed the subject. “I think you’re very nice, Hannah . . . not at all like Shawna Lee said you were.”

“Mmm,” Hannah said, and prompted by a kick from Andrea, she managed to keep the smile on her face. Her grandmother used to say that you could catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and the whole purpose of this coffee klatch was to trap metaphorical flies. “Well, you’re every bit as nice as Mike said you were.”

“Isn’t Mike just a doll?” Vanessa smiled so widely Hannah imagined she could see her tonsils. For one brief moment she wondered how much those perfectly straight teeth had cost, but that was a question only Vanessa, or a dental professional like Norman could answer.

“Mike told me you made the Orange Julius for our little party,” Vanessa went on. “It was so good, just like the kind I used to drink out at the mall with Shawna Lee.”

“You and Mike had a party last night?” Andrea asked, looking slightly shocked.

“It wasn’t a real party, not like you have when you’re happy. It was a . . . what do you call it?”

“A wake.” Hannah supplied the word for the woman who most probably had romantic designs on Mike.

“That’s it. It was Shawna Lee’s wake. We talked about her a lot. And then Mike told me he was dating you, and that’s why he couldn’t spend the night with me.”

“Really?” Hannah made a lightning decision to put words in Mike’s mouth. It was one way she might be able to get at the truth. “That’s really strange. When I ran into Mike this morning, he told me he spent the night with you.”

Vanessa looked about as surprised as a woman with a hangover could look. “Well . . . I guess that’s true in a way. Mike was here, but he didn’t . . . you know.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Anyway, nothing happened. If he said it did, he’s just bragging. You know how men are. They want everyone to think they’re so . . . what’s that Mexican word?”

“Macho. It’s Spanish.”

“That’s it. I remember it from Man of La Macho.”

“Mancha,” Hannah corrected.

“Whatever. Neil got front row tickets for me and my girlfriend. But really, Hannah, you don’t need to worry. Mike and I didn’t do a thing that I wouldn’t’ have done in the front window of the bakery. I mean, really.”

Andrea stood up, signaling the end of the visit. That was a good thing, since Hannah was ready to as more probing questions that had nothing to do with the information they had set out to learn.

“It was nice to see you again,” Andrea said, mouthing the polite phrases that Hannah found so difficult to utter. “I’m sorry it had to be under sad circumstances.”

“Likewise,” Hannah said, using a word she’d vowed never to use because it was so utterly insipid.

“Thanks for the rum balls, Hannah. They’re really good.” Vanessa popped another in her mouth and stood up a trifle unsteadily. “I’ll see you to the back door.”

Hannah grabbed Vanessa’s arm and guided her back down to the couch. “That’s okay. We can see ourselves out. We’ll just make sure the door locks behind us, okay?”

“Okay.” Vanessa gave Hannah another of her wide smiles. “It’s okay if you lock the door. Mike’s got a key so he can le himself in later.”

Andrea grabbed Hannah’s hand and pulled her away from the woman who was clearly her rival. “We’ve got to go, Hannah. Now.”

“Right,” Hannah said, uncocking her fist and regretting that she hadn’t been a trifle faster. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Vanessa gave a little wave of her fingers, and then she took another rum ball. “You don’t have a thing to worry about, Hannah. Mike’s just a friend, that’s all.”

Hannah was about to reply to that with a choice phrase one didn’t usually associate with polite social occasions when Andrea’s nails dug into her arm and she gave a little yelp of pain. Then her younger sister propelled her out of the room with a strength Hannah hadn’t known she possessed, strong-armed her down the stairs, and out onto the snowy back steps.

“Why didn’t you . . . I could have . . . I wish you’d . . . “ Hannah sputtered, pulling away from her sister with a jerk.

“No way. You almost blew it up there. She was playing games with you, trying to make you jealous, and you almost fell for it.”

“Really?” Hannah asked, desperately wanting to be convinced.

“I think so.”

But something in Andrea’s voice belied her words and Hannah could hear it. “No, you don’t think so. You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“Well . . . maybe,” Andrea admitted, trudging around the side of the Magnolia Blossom Bakery toward Main Street. “But Vanessa did say she hadn’t spent the night with Mike.”

“I know. Several times. Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“That’s Shakespeare,” Andrea announced, stopping at the curb to wait for a car that was driving by.

“I know. It’s from MacBeth.”

“Do you really think Vanessa reads Shakespeare?” Andrea asked, missing the point entirely.

“Not without moving her lips,” Hannah said.

AUNT KITTY’S JAMAICAN RUM BALLS

DO NOT preheat oven — these don’t require baking!

4 cups finely crushed vanilla wafers (a 12-ounce box is about 2 ½ cups crushed — measure after crushing) 1 cup chopped nuts (measure after chopping — I use pecans, but that’s because I really like them — I’ve also used macadamia nuts, walnuts, and cashews) ½ cup Karo syrup (the clear white kind) ½ cup excellent rum (or excellent whiskey, or excellent whatever) 2 Tablespoons Nestle’s sweet dry cocoa (I’m going to use Ghirardelli’s sweet cocoa with ground chocolate the next time I make them) 1 Tablespoon strong coffee (brewed — liquid)

COATING: Dry cocoa Powdered (confectioner’s) sugar Chocolate sprinkles

Crush the vanilla wafers in a food processor, or put them in a plastic bag and crush them with a rolling pin. Measure them and pour them into a mixing bowl.

Chop the nuts finely with a food processor, or with your knife. Measure them and add those.

Mix in the Karo syrup, rum (or substitute), sweet dry cocoa, and strong coffee. Stir until thoroughly blended.

Rub your hands with powdered sugar. Make small balls, large enough to fit into a paper bonbon cup. Dip the balls in cocoa, or powdered sugar, or chocolate sprinkles to coat them. Do some of each and arrange them on a plate — very pretty.

Refrigerate these until you serve them. They should last for at least a month in the refrigerator. (I’ve never been able to put this to the test, because every time I make them, they’re gone within a week.)

Yield: At least 5 dozen, depending on how large you roll the balls.

Aunt Kitty’s Jamaican Rum Balls make great gifts when they’re packaged like fine candy. Most cake decorating stores stock a variety of frilly bonbon cups and decorative candy boxes for you to use.

To make these nonalcoholic, use fruit juice in place of the rum. This should work just fine, but make sure you refrigerate them and eat them within a week. You’ll have to change the name to “No Rum Balls,” but that’s okay. Choose a fruit juice that’ll go well with the chocolate, like peach, orange, or pineapple.

Note: I’ve always wanted to try these dipped in melted chocolate. I bet they’d be fantastic!

It was the predictable noon break, the time of day when most people in Lake Eden thought it was too late for a midmorning cookie and too early for an after-lunch cookie. There was only one thing that made this noon break different from any other. It was that it wasn’t much of a break. Contrary to custom, The Cookie Jar was still filled with sippers, dunkers, crunchers, and gulpers . . . and almost all of them wanted to know what Hannah had found out about Shawna Lee Quinn’s murder.

Hannah had retired to the kitchen shortly after eleven, leaving Lisa with the message, Hannah really can’t say, for anyone who wanted inside information. She’d baked another two batches of cookies and was finishing up on the third when Norman knocked on the back door.

“Smells good,” Norman said, taking his usual place on a stool at the workstation.

“They are good. I’ll get you one.” Hannah poured a mug of coffee for Norman and set it down at the workstation. Then she took a cooled cookie from the baker’s rack and handed it to him before she sat down beside him. “I’m calling this recipe Chocolate Almond Toast. Dunk it in your coffee. It’s really good that way.”

Norman dunked the end of the cookie into his coffee and tasted it. “Delicious,” he passed judgment, giving her a nod. “It tastes a little like the chocolate biscotti I used to get in Seattle. It looks like it, too. Could you pout some chocolate on the top?”

“I don’t know why not. The next time I bake them, I’ll dip the tops in melted chocolate chips.”

“They’ll be really good that way. And they’re great plain, too.”

“What’s great plain?” Lisa came in from the coffee shop, carrying two empty glass display jars.

“Chocolate Almond Toast.” Hannah motioned toward the baker’s rack. “Fill up one of those jars and see how people like it.”

“If it’s chocolate, they’ll like it,” Lisa predicted, slipping cookies into the display jar.

Norman reached down for his briefcase and snapped it open on the stainless steel surface. He took out a thick sheaf of three-hole paper held together with a brass brad, and handed it to Hannah. “This is what I got when I ran that computer search.”

“All this?” Hannah asked, thumbing through the three dozen or so pages.

“All that. Most of it’s about Vanessa’s husband. He was an important civic leader in Macon.”

“Macon?” Lisa stopped in the act of filling the jar and turned to look at Norman.

“That’s what it says. His company headquarters was in Macon, Georgia.”

“I wonder is his building was anywhere near Pretty Girl Cosmetics. They have their corporate offices in Macon, too. They built a landmark building, and Gloria was telling us about it at dinner last night. It looks just like a lipstick with windows, and the CEO’s office suite is all the way up at the tip of the lipstick.”

“Hold on a second,” Norman said, reaching out for the sheaf of papers. “I could be wrong, but when I was printing out the data for Neil Roper’s financials, I’m almost sure I saw . . . here it is.”

“Here what is?”

“Pretty Girl Cosmetics. Vanessa’s husband was a senior member of the board.”

“Hold the phone!” Hannah said, jumping up to do exactly what she’d just said. Within seconds she’d punched in her mother’s work number and she paced impatiently until the phone was answered. “Hi, Carrie. Is Luanne working today?”

“Yes, dear. Shall I call her?”

“No. I need to talk to her, but not on the phone. if you’re not too busy, could you ask her to run over here? I just baked a new cookie, Chocolate Almond Toast, and I’ll send some back with her.”

Carrie laughed. “Bribery will get you everywhere. I’ll send her right over. Is it about Shawna Lee’s murder?”

“Not directly. I just need some information about Pretty Girl Cosmetics that Luanne might know.”

Hannah had just finished filling a takeout bag with Chocolate Almond Toast when Luanne knocked on the back door. Norman volunteered to relieve Lisa at the cookie shop so they could compare notes about Pretty Girl Cosmetics, and the three women were about to sit down with mugs of coffee when Andrea came rushing in.

“Norman sent me back here. He said you were having a meeting.”

“We are.” Hannah poured a mug of coffee for her sister and motioned her to a stool. Then she turned to Luanne. “I need to know some things about Pretty Girl Cosmetics. Did you ever go to their corporate headquarters in Macon, Georgia?”

“Yes. I qualified for a two-day seminar when I was selling Pretty Girl door-to-door and working at the café. Pretty Girl picked up all the expenses and Mom offered to take care of Suzie, so I went. It was great, almost like a mini-vacation.”

“Did you get to meet any of the people on the board of directors?”

Luanne shook her head. “No, just the CEO when he welcomed us on the first day. I met all the other top salespeople from my region. They won trips to the seminar, too. And of course I met Gloria Travis. She arranged the whole thing.”

“Do you know about the Pretty Girl Retreat out at the Lake Eden Inn?” Lisa asked.

“Sure. Gloria called me the first day she got to town and we’re getting together tonight. I’m driving out to have dinner with Gloria and her husband.”

“Her husband?” Lisa asked, looking surprised. “But . . . Gloria told us she wasn’t married.”

“She isn’t? Oh, I’m really glad you told me! I probably would have stuck my foot in my mouth and asked some dumb question about why her husband wasn’t there. I guess something must have gone wrong with her engagement and the wedding she was planning never happened.”

“Hold on!” Hannah said, giving them the universal time-out signal. When everyone was silent, she turned to Luanne. “When did Gloria tell you she was engaged?”

“A year and half ago, when I went to Georgia for the Pretty Girl Seminar. We got to talking and she said she was engaged to one of the board members.”