Chapter Thirteen
The Chocolate Marshmallow Cookie Bars were cooling in the refrigerator and Hannah was just removing the last pan of Aggression Cookies from the oven when the doorbell rang. As Michelle went to answer the door, Hannah glanced at the clock on her kitchen wall. Only two hours had passed since they’d walked in the door. Mike was a lot earlier than she’d expected.
But it wasn’t Mike. Hannah was in a position to see both cats sit up and stare at the doorway. Then Moishe’s hair began to bristle, and he arched his back like the illustration of a Halloween cat. He gave a low growl, deep in his throat, and then there was a thump as Moishe, closely followed by Cuddles, jumped to the floor and made a bee-line for her bedroom.
“Hello, Mother!” Hannah called out before Delores even stepped inside the door.
“Hello, dear.” Delores followed Michelle to the kitchen. “How did you know it was me?”
“Just a lucky guess,” Hannah answered, avoiding the cruel truth. It wouldn’t be good for her mother’s ego to know that Moishe disliked her so much, he’d taken his best kitty friend with him and they’d gone to hide under her bed.
“I came to see how you were,” Delores explained, glancing pointedly at the coffee pot. “What smells so divine? Don’t tell me that despite everything you’ve gone through tonight, you girls have been baking!”
“We’ve been baking,” Hannah said.
“That’s right.” Michelle went straight to the coffee pot to pour her mother a cup. “It’s like this, Mother. Some people cry when they’re upset, and some people yell and throw things. Hannah and I bake.”
“Well, that’s certainly a lot more constructive.” Delores sat down at the kitchen table and waited for Michelle to deliver her coffee. “But you still haven’t answered my first question. What smells so divine?”
“I’m not sure. We made Chocolate Marshmallow Cookie Bars first, and then we made Aggression Cookies. And right now, we’re mixing up a cake …” Hannah went to the refrigerator to take out the pan with the cookie bars. “Would you like a cookie bar, Mother?”
“Yes, thank you, dear. And I’ll try the cookies, too. Bud and I met for dinner, but we were running late and we didn’t want to take time for dessert.”
“You went out with Bud Hauge on a dinner date?” Hannah asked, wondering if Andrea was right and their mother was showing an interest in dating again.
“I certainly wouldn’t call it a dinner date, dear. We had patty melts at the cafe, and then we went over to the school for the talent show. Bud’s niece plays with Kenny Kowalski’s All-Girl Accordion Band.”
Michelle delivered two cookies to their mother, one with chocolate chips and the other with golden raisins.
“Thank you, dear.” Delores turned back to Hannah, who was cutting the cookie bars at the counter. “I just stopped by to see how you were faring in light of your … unfortunate discovery. I knew Norman wasn’t back yet, and I was concerned. I’m very glad to see that you’re coping so well.” Delores stopped and took another sip of coffee. “You knew him, didn’t you, dear?”
It was the question she’d been expecting ever since she’d first seen her mother at the door. Although Delores didn’t know for certain, she suspected that Bradford Ramsey had been the unnamed man Hannah had told her about, the man who’d broken her heart in college. Under any other circumstances, Hannah might have admitted it, but this was a murder investigation and she didn’t want to put her mother in the position of having to lie to the authorities if she was questioned.
“We all knew him, Mother,” Hannah said, settling for a partial truth. “Not only was he Michelle’s faculty advisor, he was a guest right here in my condo for Christmas Eve dinner. But of course you were here too, so you already knew that.”
“Yes. I just meant that … you seemed to be so upset when he bumped into you at Stewart Hall last winter when we were going to my small business class.”
“Of course I was upset. He scattered the contents of my purse all over the floor.”
“But you made some comment about how he wasn’t a nice man.”
“That’s perfectly true. I thought his apology wasn’t sincere. Anyone who was truly sorry would have gotten right down there on his knees and helped me pick up the contents of my purse, even though I said I didn’t need help.”
“Oh. Well … I suppose you’re right. He did seem more interested in getting to his class on time than he was about helping to right the damage he’d caused.”
“My point exactly. You remember what I said when you asked me about it, don’t you?”
“Yes. You said you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s right. I was trying to calm down, and talking about it would have just made me angry at him again.”
“Oh.” Delores gave her a searching look. “Then I totally misinterpreted the reason you didn’t want to discuss it?”
“Yes.” Hannah found she couldn’t quite meet her mother’s eyes, so she busied herself by placing several cookie bars on a plate and carrying them to the table.
“These look lovely,” Delores complimented her. “I’m glad you baked, dear.”
“So am I. Baking is wonderful therapy.” And then, because she just couldn’t resist, Hannah added, “You really ought to try it sometime.”
“Moi? Surely not, dear! Why would I even attempt to bake when you do it so well?”
Nicely said, Mother, Hannah thought, but she didn’t say it. Instead she motioned toward the plate. “Please help yourself.”
Delores selected one of the cookie bars and took a bite. A moment later, her face was wreathed in a smile. “Delicious!” she pronounced. “These are just wonderful, dear.”
“I’m glad you like them. Will you excuse me for a couple of minutes? Michelle and I need to finish the Wacky Cake batter.”
“The what, dear?”
“Wacky Cake. It’s a one-pan cake. You mix it and bake it in the same pan. And it doesn’t have any eggs.”
“That’s unusual for a cake?” Delores guessed.
“Very unusual,” Hannah told her. “This is a cake that Suzy’s grandmother used to make during the Second World War when there was rationing and sometimes people couldn’t buy eggs.”
“I remember your grandparents talking about that.”
“There’s a note on the recipe,” Hannah told her, retrieving the folded piece of paper from the counter. It says, From the time of World War Two when eggs could be scarce unless you kept chickens, there weren’t fifteen different types of flour in the grocery store, and tap water was safe to drink.”
Delores gave a little laugh. “I guess that says it all.”
“I’ll finish the cake,” Michelle offered. “You can sit down and talk with Mother.”
Hannah’s eyes narrowed as she shot a look at her baby sister. The last thing she wanted to do right now was converse with her mother, and Michelle knew it. Delores would want to know the whole story of how she’d found Bradford dead on the stage, and she didn’t feel like talking about it.
“Thanks a lot, Michelle,” Hannah said, and Michelle winced slightly. It was clear she knew that Hannah meant just the opposite.
She was stuck and she knew it. Hannah poured herself a cup of coffee and carried it to the table. But before she could sit down across from Delores, the doorbell rang. She’d been saved by the bell, the doorbell to be specific. Mike must be here to take her statement.
“That’s probably Mike,” she said to her mother. “He said he’d drop by to interview me.”
Delores looked pleased. “That’s perfect, dear. I was planning to ask you all about it. If Mike takes your statement right here at the table, you won’t have to tell your story twice.”
Hannah said nothing, although she was fairly certain Mike would insist on taking her statement in private. Even though he was no longer a complete slave to police procedure, she doubted he’d bend the rules just to satisfy her mother’s curiosity. She walked to the door and opened it, but it wasn’t Mike who was standing there on the landing.
“Hi, Hannah,” Andrea said, stepping into the condo. “I thought you might be upset, so I came over just as soon as I put Tracey to bed. Is that Mother’s car in your extra space?”
“Yes. Come on in. We’re in the kitchen, baking.”
“Mother’s baking?”
“Not Mother. Michelle and I are baking.”
“But … isn’t that a little inappropriate under the circumstances?”
“What’s inappropriate about baking? I do it every day.”
“I know that, but you just found another dead body. Aren’t you upset?”
“Of course she’s upset,” Delores answered Andrea’s question. “It’s like this, dear … some people cry when they’re upset. Other people yell and throw things. Hannah bakes. And Michelle bakes, too.”
Andrea took a seat at the table and thought it over for a few seconds. “I guess that makes sense, in a way,” she said.
“Is there any news about Bill’s job offer, dear?” Delores asked.
“Yes. They called him again this afternoon. I told you that Tachyon wants to fly us both to Fort Lauderdale first class so that Bill can meet their top executives and take a look at their operation?”
“You told us that yesterday,” Delores said.
“Well, Bill was pretty definite about refusing them yesterday. I heard every word he said.”
“Did he know you were listening?” Michelle asked.
“Of course not. I didn’t want him to think that I was eavesdropping.”
“But you were, weren’t you?” Michelle asked.
“No, I wasn’t eavesdropping. I stopped by the sheriff’s station to ask him what time he thought he’d be home. When I approached his office door, I heard him talking on the phone. The problem was, I wasn’t sure whether it was a private conversation or not. I knew that if it was private, it would have been rude for me to go in, so I stood there politely to wait until Bill was through.”
Hannah bit back a grin. If she ever needed a good spin doctor, Andrea would be her first choice.
“Anyway, I could tell Bill was talking to the man at Tachyon in Fort Lauderdale because he said it was really nice of them to offer to fly both of us there, but he really didn’t think it was fair to leave me alone in a hotel room all day with nothing to do in a strange city while he toured their headquarters and met with their top executives.”
“That was considerate,” Delores commented.
“Yes, it was. And I only had to point it out to him once last night.” Andrea stopped and shook her head. “They must want him really bad.”
Badly, Hannah mentally corrected her sister, but she didn’t say a peep. This was not the time for a grammar lesson.
“Anyway, he just listened for a few minutes and then he told them he’d think it over. And it turned out that it was really smart of him to say that about not wanting to leave me alone at the hotel.”
“They offered him something else?” Hannah guessed.
“And how! They said they’d introduce me to one of the executives’ wives my age and she’d show me around Fort Lauderdale. They said she’d take me to lunch at a wonderful restaurant where I could meet the other wives, and then the next morning a car would pick us up and we’d all spend the day at the most exclusive spa in town. They even mentioned a shopping spree to show me Fort Lauderdale’s upscale boutiques. Can you believe it? It seems like the more Bill says no, the more they want him.”
“I’m going to keep that in mind when I’m out there looking for jobs,” Michelle said.
Andrea was silent for a moment, and then she gave a wry laugh. “I think that only works if they come to you. If I’d tried that with Al at the realty office, he would have told me to get lost. And then he would have turned right around and hired someone else.”
WACKY CAKE
Preheat oven to 350 degrees, rack in the middle position.
First set of ingredients:
1 and ? cups all-purpose flour (don’t sift—just scoop it up and level it off)
1 cup white (granulated) sugar
? teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
3 heaping Tablespoons cocoa powder (about a quarter cup)
Choose a pan. Suzy’s cousin used a round cake pan about 2 inches high, her mother used a rectangular cake pan 8 inches by 12 inches, and her aunt used a square 9-inch by 9-inch cake pan that was two inches high. (Suzy says that opinions vary, but she doesn’t think the cake cares.)
Hannah’s Note: Suzy didn’t say to spray the pan with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray, but I figured it couldn’t hurt, so I did.
Put the flour, sugar, salt, baking soda, and cocoa powder into a bowl. Suzy says to sift all the ingredients together, but Michelle and I just stirred them with a fork until everything was well blended.
Make three “pukas” (Suzy says those are holes or wells) in the mixed dry ingredients, just as if you were making a well in your scoop of mashed potatoes to hold the gravy.
Gather the second set of ingredients.
Second set of ingredients:
6 Tablespoons vegetable oil 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 Tablespoon vinegar (we used raspberry vinegar—it was good!)
1 cup cold water
Put the vegetable oil in the first puka, the vanilla extract in the second puka, and the vinegar in the third puka.
Pour the cup of cold water all over the top of the cake.
Mix everything up with a fork or a wooden spoon. Continue to beat (or fork) until the batter is smooth.
Bake at 350 degrees F. for 30 minutes.
Serve warm.
Suzy’s cousin says you shouldn’t remove the cake from the pan—just put the pan on the table and serve it that way. Suzy’s aunt says you should serve it with sweetened whipped cream or ice cream. Suzy’s mother frosts it in the pan. She sifts 2 cups of powdered sugar with a dash of salt in a bowl, and stirs in a teaspoon of vanilla extract and enough cream to bring it the right consistency.
Hannah’s Note: This is a great dessert for a novice baker to make!