Wedding Cake Murder (Hannah Swenson, #19)

Hannah was almost afraid to ask, but she did. “But weren’t we supposed to be in coach?”


“Yes.” Ross gave her a little hug. “I called the airline and upgraded all of us. I may not be flying much in the job I have now, and I figured I’d better use my frequent flyer points for something.”

“Well . . . thank you!” Hannah said, stretching out in the wide, comfortable seat. At least Ross hadn’t paid extra for this. “This is just wonderful, Ross.”

Ross gestured at the stewardess who was coming down the aisle. “What would you like to drink? Whatever it is, you’ll have to drink it fast. We’re almost ready to take off.”

“Coffee would be good, if you think I’ll have time to drink it.”

“You will. They just finished their head count and they still have to report to the gate.”

“Something before we depart, Mr. Barton?” The stewardess asked him.

“Coffee please. Two cups would be good. One with cream and one black.”

“Right away, sir.” The stewardess smiled, and hurried to the galley to get their coffee. A moment later, she delivered it and helped Hannah pull out the little tray on the console between them. “Would you like a cookie to go with that, Miss Swensen?”

“No, thank you,” Hannah said. “We just had breakfast.”

Hannah tasted her coffee. Rose McDermott had told her that the coffee on planes was undrinkable, but this coffee was very good. She’d just finished drinking it when the stewardess came back to collect their cups.

“Are you nervous, Hannah?” Ross asked her.

“No. Should I be?”

“Not at all. I’ve flown on aircraft like this hundreds of times and they have a very good safety rating.”

Hannah swallowed hard. She wished that Ross hadn’t said that. It was almost like tempting fate. But she smiled as he took her hand. At that moment she knew that she’d go anywhere with him, even into a dangerous situation, as long as he never left her side.





Chapter Nine




“Wake up, Hannah. We’re on approach.”

Hannah opened her eyes and somehow managed to orient herself. Instead of working on a cooking stage at the Food Channel competition, she was sitting next to Ross on an airplane and he was smiling at her. She blinked several times in an attempt to shake herself out of the dream. She’d been dreaming that she was mixing up her Double Rainbow Swirl Cake and she’d spilled grape Jell-O powder all over Alain Duquesne.

Her mind still felt sluggish and heavy, like wet woolen snow pants after an afternoon of playing in the snow. “On approach?” she repeated Ross’s words groggily. “What are we approaching?”

“The airport.” Ross gestured toward the cup of coffee on the little pull-out tray between them. “I had the stewardess bring you a fresh cup. That should clear out the remnants of that dream you were having.”

“How do you know about my dream?” Hannah asked, reaching for the cup of coffee.

“You said, Don’t be mad. I’ll wash your shirt.”

Hannah took a sip of coffee. “That fits. I was dreaming that I was baking our wedding cake and I spilled grape Jell-O powder all over the head judge.” She took another sip of coffee and leaned back with a sigh. “I guess I’m more nervous about the competition than I thought I was.”

“You’ll be just fine, honey,” Ross reassured her. “You have a big advantage over the other contestants.”

“I do?” Hannah was surprised. “What’s that?”

“They have big fancy restaurants and they’re not used to baking anything alone. All of them have at least three other people to help them in their kitchens. You’re used to working alone, or with just one other person. You’re also more comfortable with a time limit. You’re required to bake a certain number of cookies in a certain amount of time so they’re ready when your coffee shop opens for business in the morning. Their restaurants don’t open in the morning. The earliest any of them open is noon for the lunch crowd. And I’m willing to bet that most of their lunch desserts are things like ice cream, sherbet, cakes, and pies that are left over from the previous night.”

Hannah was surprised at Ross’s insights. “How do you know all that?”

“I looked at their menus online. Their lunch menus only had two or three desserts and most of them consisted of things their staff could assemble in the kitchen like fresh seasonal fruit over ice cream with a sauce or a liqueur.”

“How about the dinner menus?”

“The desserts were more elaborate on those, but don’t forget that they have all day to make them and more than one assistant. And they don’t have to bake take-out orders, or delivery orders, or answer the phone, or serve coffee when the restaurant gets busy. They also close between lunch and dinner. They have only one job, and that’s to make the desserts. They’re prima donnas. You’re a jack of all trades plus a fantastic baker.”

Hannah began to smile. “Thank you, Ross. I think you’re right and I do have an advantage. I feel much better about the competition now.”