Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (15 page)

Do not preheat oven yet—dough must chill before baking.

H
annah stepped back to assess her reflection. Her new dress was exquisite. She’d pulled her frizzy red hair back in the ebony clasp her younger sister Michelle had sent from an art and jewelry fair they’d held on the Macalester campus, and it actually looked good. And Lisa had been right. Her new shoes couldn’t have been more perfect. Hannah looked sophisticated for the first time in her life, and it was a bit of a shock. She also looked sexy, which was even more of a shock, and she hoped that Norman wouldn’t think she’d worn this dress just for him.

Moishe yowled from his spot on the bed and Hannah turned to give him a thumbs-up. “You’re right. I know I’ve never looked this good before. It’s a real change, isn’t it?”

Moishe yowled again and Hannah assumed that it was a change he didn’t appreciate. He also knew that she was going out again and he didn’t appreciate that, either. She dabbed on a bit of perfume from the bottle of Chanel No. Five that her old college roommate had given her years before, and headed off to the kitchen to appease the beast that lived under her roof.

Several kitty treats later and Moishe was happy again. Hannah paced across the floor, waiting for Norman. She didn’t dare sit down. Her new dress was black and every chair in her apartment was inundated with orange cat hair. She was just crossing the living room for the sixteenth time when her doorbell chimed.

“Stay!” Hannah used the command voice the dog trainers on television used and Moishe looked startled. It probably didn’t work on cats, but there was really no danger of Moishe escaping when she opened the door. He had a full food bowl and he knew when he had a good thing going.

“Hi, Hannah.” Norman looked a little nervous as he thrust out a florist’s box. “Uh…these are for you.”

Hannah smiled and ushered him in. To her surprise, Norman looked much better in his formal clothing than she’d thought he would. “Thanks, Norman. Just let me get my coat and I’ll be ready to go.”

“You’d better put those in water first.” Norman gestured toward the box. “My mother wanted me to get you a corsage, but I told her that this wasn’t a prom date.”

Hannah laughed and led the way to the kitchen to get out a vase. She filled it with water, opened the box, and smiled as she took out a large bunch of pink, white, and yellow daisies. “Thank you, Norman. They’re beautiful and I like them much better than a corsage.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a cat.” Norman stared at Moishe, who had lifted his head from the depths of his food dish to examine the stranger who had invaded his kitchen.

Hannah quickly thrust the flowers in the vase and turned to Norman in alarm. “Sorry. I didn’t think to tell you. You’re not allergic, are you?”

“Not at all. Cats are some of my favorite people. What’s his name?”

“Moishe.”

“After Moshe Dayan?”

“That’s right. He’s blind in one eye.”

“Perfect name.” Norman bent down and extended his hand. “Come here and meet me, big guy.”

Hannah watched in amazement as Moishe padded over to Norman and rubbed up against his hand. Her cat had never been this sociable before. Norman scratched him under the chin and she could hear Moishe’s purr all the way across the kitchen. “He
likes
you.”

“I guess he does.”

Hannah watched as Norman scooped Moishe up and tickled his belly, something Moishe usually hated. But her cat just lolled in Norman’s arms and looked as blissful as a cat could look.

“Okay, Moishe. We have to go.” Norman carried him out to the living room and set him down on the couch. “Do you leave the television on for him?”

Hannah nodded, hoping Norman wouldn’t think she was crazy. “It’s company for him when I’m gone.”

“That makes sense. I’ll do it while you get your coat. Which channel does he like?”

“Anything except Animal Planet. They run vet programs and he hates vets.” Hannah went to the closet and grabbed the coat she’d chosen, a previously owned cashmere that she’d found at Helping Hands. When she came back into the room, Norman was frowning. “Is there something wrong, Norman?”

“I was just kicking myself for forgetting to tell you how gorgeous you look. I should have said that right away. Mother would have a fit if she knew.”

Hannah laughed. “So would my mother. Delores made me promise to tell you how nice
you
looked and I forgot. If we run into them at the party, we won’t mention it. How’s that?”

“Good.” Norman opened the door and waited for Hannah to step through. “Uh…Hannah?”

“Yes, Norman?” Hannah double-locked the door with her key and they walked down the stairs to the ground floor.

“We’re going to run into them at the party. As a matter of fact, we’ll see them before that.”

Hannah winced. “Don’t tell me we’re picking them up!”

“Not exactly. I did that already, before I came to get you. They’re both waiting for us in the backseat of my car.”

Hannah felt as if she were stuck in a time warp as they drove to the Woodleys’ mansion. It was a lot like being a kid again, dragged off to a party by her mother. To make matters worse, Norman’s mother had brought a camera and she’d blithely announced that she planned to take pictures of them. Hannah had feared that this evening might turn out to be an ordeal, but it was going to be even worse than she’d anticipated.

The Woodley mansion was ablaze with lights and when they pulled up, a red-jacketed valet came forward to take Norman’s car. Another parking attendant opened the doors, and Hannah and their mothers were assisted out of the car and up to the front entrance.

Hannah gazed around her as she entered the foyer on Norman’s arm. It had been decorated for the occasion with banks upon banks of tropical blooms. Of course they were imported. Birds of Paradise, Royal Poinciana, and Chinese Hibiscus didn’t grow in Minnesota, even in the summer. They had been transported from warmer climates, and Hannah knew they had to have been outrageously expensive.

There was a harpist, seated in an alcove, playing classical music. Hannah thought that was a nice touch. Leave it to Judith Woodley to provide a touch of class from the moment they entered the door.

“Your coat, ma’am?” A pretty maid, dressed in a dark green uniform and a frilly white apron, helped Hannah out of her coat. “Would you care to freshen up in the ladies’ powder room?”

“Yes, thank you,” Hannah replied, and then she turned to Norman. “I’m just going to run a currycomb through my hair.”

Norman chuckled at her reference to the tool that was used to groom horses. “I
like
your hair, Hannah.”

“Ma’am?” The maid touched Hannah’s arm. “If you’ll just follow me, please.”

Hannah made arrangements to meet Norman at the bar and went off with the maid. She was an attractive brunette that Hannah didn’t recognize, though she thought she’d seen her at last year’s party. The Woodleys always hired outside help for their parties. Judith complained that the local girls simply weren’t capable of being trained for such a special event. Hannah turned to the maid and asked, “You’re not from Lake Eden, are you?”

“Minneapolis, ma’am. I work for Parties Plus, the service that Mrs. Woodley uses.”

“That’s a long way to drive for one party,” Hannah commented, giving her a friendly smile.

“Oh, that’s no problem. Mrs. Woodley arranges for our transportation, and this is one party I wouldn’t want to miss. I’ve been here for three years in a row.”

“I thought I recognized you from last year. What makes this party better than other parties?”

“It’s a five-day assignment and we have the use of the indoor pool and spa. Mrs. Woodley even caters our meals while we’re here. It’s almost like a party for us.”

Hannah was fishing, but she never knew when information like this might come in handy. “I guess your regular assignments aren’t this nice?”

“No way. Usually we’re in and out in less than six hours and we work like dogs while we’re there. Mrs. Woodley always allows plenty of time for us to set up.”

Hannah was curious. “How long have you been here?”

“Since Tuesday morning. We spent two days cleaning, and yesterday we set up the tables and made sure that all the glassware and dishes were ready. Today we just helped the caterer.”

“When do you go back?”

“Right after we do the cleanup tomorrow morning. We’re usually on the road by noon. I’ll be back home by two at the latest, but Mrs. Woodley pays us for the whole day.”

They had arrived at the ladies’ powder room and Hannah went in to take stock of the damage. Her hair looked all right and she just patted down a few loose curls. Then she refreshed the lipstick that Luanne Hanks had decided was just perfect for her and went back out to find Norman.

Norman was standing by the bar, almost lost in a sea of taller faces. As Hannah moved toward him, she was glad her heels were only three inches high. “Hi, Norman. I’m back.”

“And just in time.” Norman took her arm and moved her away from the crowd. “Our mothers are headed this way. Let’s go over and pay our respects to the Woodleys.”

The reception line wasn’t long, and Hannah and Norman took their places at the end. As they approached their host and hostess, Hannah admired Judith Woodley’s dress. It was made of lilac silk and the bodice was beaded with tiny pearls. Her light brown hair was caught up in an elaborate twist on the top of her head and she looked lovely, as always. She was smiling and chattering with her guests and she appeared quite animated. Del, on the other hand, looked surprisingly glum, and Hannah noticed that there were dark circles under his eyes.

“Hannah.” Judith extended her hand. “How lovely to see you.”

Hannah had the insane urge to reply that it was lovely to be seen, but she thought better of it. She searched her mind for something appropriate to say and pulled out a standard compliment. “You look lovely tonight, Judith. I had no idea that Claire had such wonderful dresses in her shop.”

“Claire?” Judith’s green eyes widened, and Hannah knew she’d just stuck her foot in the mud. “This isn’t from Beau Monde, Hannah. Billy designed it especially for me.”

“Billy?”

“Billy Blass. He’s a close personal friend of mine. And I see that you have a date this year. How nice.”

Hannah cringed and introduced Norman to the Woodleys, making sure to mention that Norman had arrived to take over his father’s dental practice. They chatted with the Woodleys for another brief moment and then they moved on.

“Billy Blass.” Norman chuckled as he took Hannah’s arm. “I wonder if he calls her Judy.”

Hannah laughed appreciatively. This party might be fun if Norman kept making jokes. She accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and they wandered through the crowd for a few minutes, hailing the people that they knew. Then they walked over to view the appetizer table.

“Caviar.” Norman pointed to the black tapioca-looking substance in a large cut-glass bowl that was nestled in a larger bowl of shaved ice.

“It’s beluga,” Hannah informed him. “I asked last year and the waiter told me that the Woodleys wouldn’t serve anything else.”

Norman was obviously impressed because he accepted a caviar-laden toast point from the waiter and smiled in anticipation as he raised it to his mouth. Then he looked over at Hannah and froze. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I should have asked. Would you care for some caviar?”

“No, thanks. I know that beluga’s the best that money can buy, but I grew up right next to a lake. It’s still all just fish eggs to me.”

While Norman busied himself with the caviar, Hannah walked over to survey the rest of the buffet. She’d heard that Judith had hired the best caterer in Minneapolis. Hannah could believe that as she walked past evenly fanned slices of beef fillet, platters of Smithfield ham, a whole poached salmon on a bed of dill, and several massive plates of carved chicken and turkey breast. There was a silver platter of tender baby asparagus, each tip pointing outward to form a giant wheel with a silver pitcher of hollandaise in the center, and a large crystal bowl that was filled to the brim with glazed carrots. Hannah spared only a passing glance for the tiny red potatoes that had been steamed in their colorful jackets and the deviled quail eggs. Her area of interest was the dessert table.

The desserts were gorgeous. There were small bites of cake that were frosted and decorated with tiny edible flowers, an array of truffles on a platter strewn with rose petals, chocolate-dipped strawberries with their stems intact, and a large silver basket filled with sugar cookies. Her professional interest aroused, Hannah selected a cookie and tasted it.

The cookie crunched in her mouth, just the way it should, but it was definitely on the dry side. The anticipated burst of butter that should have exploded on her taste buds was lacking. There was no vanilla taste, either, and Hannah began to frown. These cookies looked nice, but they really had no taste at all.

“Excuse me?” The female caterer, dressed in an expensive suit, walked over to give Hannah a nervous smile. “I couldn’t help noticing your reaction to the cookies. Don’t you like them?”

Hannah thought about tact. Then she thought about new business. New business won out and she decided that she wouldn’t be doing the caterer any favors if she didn’t tell her the truth. She stepped closer and lowered her voice so that none of the other guests would hear. “The cookies are disappointing. I hope you didn’t make them.”

“You don’t pull any punches, do you?” The caterer looked amused.

“Not really. Did you make them?”

“No. I bought them from a supplier.”

Hannah was relieved. At least she didn’t have to tell the caterer that her own recipe was at fault. “Don’t buy from them anymore. They use cheap shortening instead of butter and they’re much too light on the vanilla. They overbake them, too. They probably set their ovens low to keep them from browning and leave them in for too long.”

“How do you know they use shortening?”

“There’s no butter taste,” Hannah explained. “A sugar cookie without butter is like a car without gas. It looks good, but it doesn’t work.”

The caterer laughed. “You’ve got a point. How could you tell that they’re overbaked?”