Wedding Cake Murder (Hannah Swenson, #19)

“Of course not. You can take it home with you and put it in your freezer. And then you can use it at The Cookie Jar after you find out how it does in the competition.”


“You’re probably right.” Hannah shivered and turned up the heater on her old Suburban. It was cold this morning, and it was starting to snow. It was definitely time to get out her winter parka. As she drove, huge, wet flakes of snow splattered against her windshield.

Michelle cleared her throat. “Look, Hannah . . . maybe I’m a little paranoid, but I don’t think you should let anyone know which cookie you’re baking until the actual night of the cookie challenge. That’s why I don’t want you to leave the dough in Sally’s cooler. All the other contestants will have access to that cooler.”

Hannah thought about that for a moment. “You’re not paranoid,” she said. “You’re smart! This is a competition.”

“That’s right. And remember what happened to Brooke.”

Hannah increased the speed of her windshield wipers to combat the blowing snow. “I should also be careful not to leave any copies of my recipes behind when we leave the kitchen.”

“Right. Maybe we’re going a little overboard, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. I think all of our recipes should be a secret until we bake them for the judges.”

“Agreed.” Hannah turned up the speed on her windshield wipers again. “It’s snowing pretty hard, Michelle. I’m glad that Ross didn’t have to go out on location today. He’s spending the day at the studio, teaching P.K. how to edit the footage they shot last night.”

“Are they coming over for dinner tonight?”

“Yes, but they’re bringing takeout. Bertanelli’s is close to the studio, and Ross said he’d pick up a couple of pizzas.”

“So there’s only the five of us?”

Hannah glanced over at Michelle. “Five? It’s four, Michelle. You, me, Ross, and P.K.”

“Not if Mike gets wind of it,” Michelle said with a smile.

“You’ve got a point.” Hannah braked cautiously as she came to the turnoff that led around the lake. “I’m glad we’re almost there. The road’s getting slippery. Maybe I should have taken The Food Channel’s offer to let us stay at Sally’s.”

Michelle shook her head. “I think you did the right thing. You have the advantage of sleeping at home in your own bed, and you can practice in your home kitchen or in the kitchen at The Cookie Jar. Everybody else has to wait for their turn in Sally’s kitchen.”

“But there’s five baking stations.”

“That’s true, but the producers don’t want us all at the baking stations at once until the actual competition. Remember what happened to Brooke in New York?”

“Of course I do. But Brooke said she wasn’t going to say anything about it to the judges.”

“She probably didn’t, but someone may have figured it out. And this does eliminate the possibility of cheating that way again.” Michelle peered out at the snow stacking up on the roadway. “Do you think the weather will interfere with the competition tomorrow night?”

“I don’t think so. The road will be plowed by then, and Dick plows the parking lot and the turnaround in front of the inn. Besides, Minnesota drivers know how to deal with winter weather. This isn’t exactly a blizzard, you know.”

Michelle leaned back in her seat. “You’re right. I’m just borrowing trouble. I probably need sleep. I kept waking up last night and I couldn’t help thinking that something bad was going to happen.”

“You had a premonition?” Hannah frowned slightly.

“No, it probably had something to do with the dill pickles I ate last night, right before I went to bed.”

They traveled in silence for several moments, each thinking their own thoughts. Then the truck swerved sharply.

“Whoa!” Hannah squelched her urge to stomp on the brakes and steered out of the skid. The road around the lake was icy, and it felt colder than it had when they’d left her condo complex. Her headlights cut a bright yellow swath through the fog that had gathered around Eden Lake. “Are you all right?” she asked Michelle.

“I’m fine. You’re a good driver, Hannah.”

“Not that good. I should have realized that the road around the lake might be icy. It was only twenty degrees when we left the condo. That’s pretty cold for this time of year, even in Minnesota.”

Michelle shivered slightly in her light jacket. Then she leaned forward to peer down the tunnel that Hannah’s headlights cut through the inky blackness. “It’s really dark out here. I guess it’s because there aren’t any streetlights.”

“And the fact that almost all of the lake cabins are dark and buttoned up for the winter.”

“You’re right. I forgot about that. I guess I’m used to Minneapolis. The sky never gets really dark like this. There’s always a kind of perpetual glow.”