Cream Puff Murder (4 page)

“Right,” Hannah said.

“It’s just like a rocking chair, except that you have to work at it.”

“Right,” Hannah said again, watching her sister push and pull to glide back and forth. It reminded her a bit of an animal in a zoo, mindlessly repeating the same behavior over and over again, hoping for some reward. Wasn’t there some way to tone up and lose twenty pounds without sacrificing her dignity in the process?

Andrea hopped off the machine and Hannah noticed that her sister wasn’t even breathing hard. “You try it now. It’s a great way to tone up, and it really stretches your muscles.”

Hannah had all she could do not to groan as she got into the proper position. The seat was too small, and it didn’t seem to conform to human anatomy. The handlebars were up too high, and she wasn’t sure she could pull herself forward on them. The pedals were set at an awkward height, and she knew her legs would cramp if she spent more than a few minutes riding the infernal contraption.

“All set?” Andrea asked her.

Hannah struggled to duplicate her sister’s actions. It had looked easy when Andrea had done it, but her sister’s seemingly effortless glide back and forth took real muscle to accomplish. She told herself that it would get easier once she got used to it, but she didn’t hold out any real hope that would be the case.

“That’s it. You’ve got it now.”

Hannah might have replied, but she was panting too hard from her efforts. Not only that, she didn’t trust herself to speak. She’d just glanced at her reflection in the mirrored wall and remembered the time their father had taken the whole family to the circus. They’d all laughed when the baby elephant had ridden a child-size tricycle around the ring, but it didn’t seem that funny at all in retrospect!

PISTACHIO WINKS

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

1 cup butter (2 sticks, ½ pound)

3 cups white (granulated) sugar

4 eggs, beaten (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)

1/8 cup (2 Tablespoons) molasses

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

3 teaspoons vanilla

2 cups finely chopped pistachio nutmeats

4 cups flour (pack it down in the measuring cup when you measure it)

½ cup white (granulated) sugar for later

15 to 30 red or green maraschino cherries cut into quarters

Melt the butter in a microwave-safe bowl or measuring cup. It’ll take about 90 seconds on HIGH. (You can also melt it in a pan on the stove if you prefer.)

Pour the butter into a mixing bowl and add the sugar. Mix well and let the mixture cool to room temperature.

Mix in the beaten eggs. Add the molasses and mix well. (If you spray your Tablespoon measure or your 1 / 8 cup measure with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray, the molasses won’t stick to it when you measure.)

Add the salt, baking soda, and vanilla. Stir everything together and then mix in the finely-chopped pistachios.

Add the flour in one-cup increments, mixing after each addition.

Form the dough into 1-inch balls with your fingers and place them on a cookie sheet that has been sprayed with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray. Form 12 dough balls for each standard-size cookie sheet.

Spray the flat bottom of a water glass with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray. Dip the glass in a bowl of white sugar and flatten the balls on the cookie sheet. Dip the glass into the sugar after every ball you flatten.

Place a quarter cherry in the center of each cookie. Press the cherry down with the tip of your finger.

Bake the cookies at 350 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes. Let the cookies set up on the sheet for one minute, and then remove them to a wire rack to finish cooling.

Yield: 8 to 10 dozen delicious cookies, depending on cookie size.

“S o how was it?” Hannah’s partner, Lisa Herman Beeseman, asked when Hannah came in the back door of The Cookie Jar at a quarter past eight.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” Hannah hung her jacket on the rack by the back door and headed for the miniscule shower enclosure that was attached to the bathroom. “As a matter of fact, it was almost fun once the class started.”

Lisa looked shocked. “I never thought I’d hear you say that exercise was fun!”

“I didn’t say fun. I said, almost fun. I’ll take a quick shower and then I’ll set things up in the coffee shop.”

“It’s all done,” Lisa called after her.

Hannah stopped in her tracks and turned around to stare. Lisa was diminutive, only five feet tall, and Hannah was willing to bet that she didn’t weigh in at much over a hundred pounds, but her young partner was tireless when it came to getting things done. “You finished the baking and set everything up in the coffee shop?”

“Yes.”

“What time did you get here anyway?”

“Five thirty. Herb had to run out to highway patrol headquarters for an early meeting, and I didn’t feel like sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee alone.”

“What kind of meeting?”

“I’ll tell you all about it right after your shower. You’re not going to believe what Mayor Bascomb is thinking about doing now!”

Hannah made short work of her shower. Lisa’s husband, Herb Beeseman, was their small town’s only law enforcement officer, and he reported directly to the mayor. If anyone knew what Mayor Bascomb was planning to do next, it was Herb.

When Hannah emerged wearing jeans that she thought might be a wee bit looser in the waist, a mug of strong black coffee was waiting for her at the stainless steel work island. She sat down on a stool, took a huge swallow of coffee, and gave a sigh of contentment. “Okay. Tell me what our esteemed mayor has up his sleeve this time.”

“Red-light cameras.”

“On what? There aren’t any stoplights in Lake Eden.”

Lisa just smiled. “You’re right. There aren’t any…yet.”

“He’s at it again!” Hannah groaned and put her head in her hands. “Don’t tell me he’s still fixated on putting in a light at the end of Main Street?”

“No, he’s not.”

“Well, thank goodness for that!” Hannah took another sip of life-enhancing caffeine, but before she even swallowed, a dreadful thought crossed her mind. “He’s given up the idea of having one at the end of Main Street, but he wants to put one somewhere else?”

“That’s right.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but…where?”

“Third and Main. Remember that traffic survey the varsity baseball team did last summer?”

Hannah had seen several members of the baseball team, equipped with folding chairs and beach umbrellas, staking out various corners in Lake Eden to count the cars that passed through the intersections. “I remember, but I thought it was just an excuse to pay for their new uniforms from the city budget.”

“So did everybody else, but it seems Mayor Bascomb had a double agenda. He asked Herb to tally up the results last week, and the most heavily trafficked corner in town is ours.”

“But we don’t need a stoplight. As far as I know, there’s never been an accident on our corner.”

“True, but he’s not doing it as a safety measure. Herb says to look at it from his point of view. People are used to driving right through our intersection without stopping. And that means when they put in a stoplight, it’ll take a while for them to get used to it. They’ll drive on through the red light the first couple of times, and the red-light camera will catch them. Then Herb will watch the tapes, issue a ticket to any drivers who run it, and the city will have another source of revenue. That’ll provide more money for our school and all the programs at the Community Center, and Mayor Bascomb will look good.”

Hannah thought about that for a second, and then she nodded. Lisa’s husband was a smart man. “What’s next? Shaving another five miles off the speed limit in town?”

“Herb and I talked about that, but he doesn’t think it’ll happen. Mayor Bascomb would have to order new speed signs, and they’re expensive.”

“So when is the stoplight going in?” Hannah asked the important question.

“Herb doesn’t know, but he’s hoping never. He thinks it’s a dirty trick to play on everybody in Lake Eden. Of course he can’t tell Mayor Bascomb that.”

Hannah noticed the small smile that flitted across Lisa’s face. “You and Herb have a plan to quash the mayor’s spying stoplight?”

“Maybe,” Lisa said, and then she clamped her lips shut.

Hannah knew she wouldn’t get any more information from Lisa. Her partner could be stubborn. “Well, good luck to you, and let me know if there’s any way I can help.”

“I will.” The phone on the kitchen wall rang, and Lisa hurried over to answer it. She spoke for a few moments, and then she turned to Hannah. “It’s Mrs. Janowski and she wants to know if we can make some birthday cookies to serve at Calvin’s party. She reserved the banquet room at The Corner Tavern and they’re having it there. She said she planned to bake a cake, but Calvin wants cookies instead.”

“Ask her what kind of cookies Calvin likes,” Hannah instructed. She listened while Lisa asked, and she was surprised to see a frown cross her partner’s face.

Lisa covered the mouthpiece and turned to face Hannah. “She says anything that resembles a cheeseburger will be a big hit with Calvin. Cheeseburgers are his favorite food. That’s one of the reasons they’re having the party at The Corner Tavern. She’s ordering platters of cheeseburgers and fries served with chocolate milkshakes.”

“Oh, great!” Hannah said, and her meaning was clearly at odds with her choice of words. Cookies shaped like cheeseburgers? She was about to tell Lisa to suggest something else when she remembered Ellen Wagner, her college roommate from North Dakota. Ellen had gone home on semester break and come back with pictures of her niece’s birthday party, along with a sample of the cookies her sister had served. Hannah had greatly admired the cookies, sweet little bites of goodness fashioned from store-bought ingredients that closely resembled miniature cheeseburgers.

“What shall I tell Mrs. Janowski?” Lisa prompted.

“Tell her yes, we can do it.”

Lisa looked clearly astounded. “We can make cookies that look like cheeseburgers?”

“You betcha!” Hannah said, using her former roommate’s pet phrase. She’d made a copy of the photo and stuck it in the recipe file she’d brought back to Lake Eden from college. As far as she knew, the photo was still there, and even if it wasn’t, she could probably re-create the cookies if she worked at it. “When is Calvin’s party?”

Lisa repeated the question, and she didn’t look happy as she turned back to Hannah. “After school on Friday. That’s only four days away.”

Hannah groaned. “Okay. It’s really short notice, but tell her we’ll do it.”

“Hannah says it’s really short notice, but we can do it,” Lisa repeated, but then she gave Hannah a wink and went on. “It’ll take some experimenting to get them just right and we may have to work overtime. That means we’ll have to charge you double our standard decorated cookie price. Will that be all right?”

Hannah’s mouth dropped open. She hadn’t told Lisa to say that!

“Okay, we’re all set then. We’ll deliver ten dozen cheeseburger cookies to The Corner Tavern on Friday before three for your party. And thank you very much for the order.”

“You’ll have to charge her double?” Hannah asked when Lisa had hung up the phone.

“That’s right. It’s something we’ve never made before, and she ought to pay for that. Besides, she agreed so fast she practically made my eyes swim. It didn’t bother her a bit, Hannah.”

“But don’t you think that’s taking advantage of people?”

“No. It’s a special order, and we’ll have to work hard on it. People have to pay for special orders. It’s only right. We charge too little anyway. Our cookies are the best. We use only the finest ingredients, and everybody knows you have to pay for quality.”

“Yes, but things are different here. Lake Eden’s a small town and people don’t have much money, and…I’d feel really bad if they didn’t get top value for their money.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” Lisa put her hands on her hips and stared hard at Hannah. With her small stature and her chef’s apron rolled up several times in the middle and held in place with the ties wrapped twice around her waist, she might have seemed ridiculous, but her determination made her a force to respect. “The people from Lake Eden go out to the mall and pay almost five dollars for one little cup of designer coffee and a cookie that tastes like cardboard. And don’t say they don’t, because I’ve seen them do it! If they can afford to do that, they can certainly afford to pay the same price for a cup of great coffee with free refills and a cookie that tastes even better than their grandmothers used to make!”

Hannah thought about that for a moment. “I suppose you’re right, but…”

“You really ought to let me start pricing things around here,” Lisa interrupted her. “We’re a business, not a charity. I know you think it’s your duty to treat the whole world, but it’s not. And if you keep devaluing your talent by under-charging, you’re going to go broke!”

Hannah just stared at the partner who had turned into a dynamo. It seemed as if Lisa had been thinking about this for a while. But as she watched, Lisa appeared to have second thoughts, because she put her hands over her face and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Hannah,” she said, and her voice quavered slightly. “It’s just that I get so mad when I see people taking advantage of your good nature.”

Hannah thought about that for a minute. Lisa really did have a point. Several other people in her life had pointed out that she hadn’t raised her prices in three years, when every other business in town had done so several times. She’d never claimed to be a businesswoman. She simply enjoyed baking for people and seeing how happy they were when they munched on one of her cookies. Perhaps it was time to let a real businesswoman take over the nuts and bolts of the business. She could still enjoy baking and watching people taste her creations, but she wouldn’t have to agonize over pricing and making a profit.

“It’s a done deal,” Hannah said, smiling at Lisa.

“What’s a done deal?”

“You take care of the business stuff from now on. I’ll come up with new recipes and figure out what to bake every day.”