Blackberry Pie Murder (26 page)

“I think the Graham Cracker Cake finished me off.”

“I’ve had that!”

“You have?”

“Winnie gave us lunch when Doc Hagaman and I went out to take care of Tina’s tooth.”

“Tina?” Hannah was confused. As far as she knew, Winnie didn’t have any grandchildren named Tina. And even if she did, why would he go out to the ranch with Norman?

“Tina is Winnie’s prize milk cow. Dr. Bob tranquilized her and I pulled her tooth. It was an interesting experience. I’d never worked on a cow before.”

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Hannah laughed. “That’s Lake Eden for you. So far you’ve treated Mr. Whiskers, the guinea pig at Kiddie Korner, and Tina, Winnie’s milk cow. What’s next? False teeth for sharks?”

“I wonder if that’s possible,” Norman said, and Hannah began to laugh. Norman joined in until they heard someone come through the swinging door from the coffee shop.

“What’s so funny?” Lisa asked, smiling at them.

“False teeth for sharks,” Hannah answered, and the per-plexed expression on Lisa’s face sent them both into another paroxysm of laughter.

“It’s not false teeth. It’s dentures, or appliances,” Norman corrected Hannah. “You have to learn to use the correct dental term.”

“Appliances?” Lisa looked thoroughly puzzled. “You mean like refrigerators? And washers?”

“No, like false teeth or bridges.” Norman could barely speak, he was laughing so hard. “That’s what dentists call them. I know that it sounds a little weird when you put it that way, but that’s what we call them.”

“Okay,” Hannah said, “It’s a different terminology. What do you call that little rubber sheet you put over the tooth in a patient’s mouth when you work on it?”

“It’s a dam.”

“It’s a
dam
nuisance,” Lisa said. “I hate those little rubber sheets.” And then all three of them cracked up again.

! % { # 9 *

TRIPLE CHOCOLATE COOKIES

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

Hannah’s 1st Note: This cookie recipe is from Michelle’s
friend, Julia Meister. It won grand prize at a fair and if you
bake it, you’ll know why!

1 cup all-purpose flour
(pack it down in the cup

when you measure it)

1⁄4 cup Dutch-process cocoa powder
(if your store

doesn’t carry it, use the same dark cocoa powder

you use for the following ingredient)

1⁄4 cup dark cocoa powder
(such as Hershey’s Special

Dark)

1⁄2 teaspoon baking soda

1⁄4 teaspoon salt

1⁄2 cup salted butter
(1 stick, 4 ounces, 1⁄4 pound)

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate
(I used Baker’s

Bittersweet—4 squares)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 large eggs, beaten
(just whip them up in a glass

with a fork)

1 and 1⁄4 cups white
(granulated)
sugar 1 and 1⁄2 cups bittersweet chocolate chips
(I used

Ghirardelli 60% cacao chips)

Hannah’s 2nd Note: Florence doesn’t carry Dutch process
cocoa powder or dark chocolate cocoa powder down at the
Red Owl. Not only that, she doesn’t carry any bittersweet

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216

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chocolate, either in one-ounce squares or in chips. I
wanted to make these right away so I used Hershey’s regular cocoa powder in place of the two cocoa powders, regular semi-sweet baking chocolate to melt with the butter,
and regular chocolate chips. Despite all these substitutions, the cookies were still incredibly superior chocolate
cookies. I made them again once I’d managed to find the
Dutch process cocoa powder, the Hershey’s Dark Cocoa
Powder, the bittersweet baking chocolate, and the bittersweet chocolate chips. The resulting flavor was deeper,
darker, and absolutely marvelous. My point here is that
even if you can’t find some of the ingredients at your store,
this is still a superb chocolate cookie recipe.

Hannah’s 3rd Note: Bittersweet chocolate is any chocolate with 60 percent cacao.

Line your cookie sheets with parchment paper or baking paper.
(I also took the precaution of spraying my

parchment paper with Pam. With all the substitutions I

made in the original recipe, I was afraid the cookies might

stick.)

Mix the flour, cocoa powders, baking soda, and salt together in a small bowl with a whisk. Whisk until they are evenly combined.

Place the stick of salted butter in a microwave-safe bowl. Roughly chop the bittersweet chocolate and add it

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to the bowl with the butter. Melt in the microwave for 1

minute at full power.

Let the butter and chocolate mixture sit in the microwave for another minute and then attempt to stir it smooth. If it’s not yet melted enough to do this, heat it in the microwave in additional 20-second increments until you can stir it smooth.
(You can also do this on the stove-

top over low heat, but make sure to stir it constantly.)

Stir the vanilla into the melted butter and chocolate mixture. Let it cool on the counter.

Use an electric mixer to beat the eggs and sugar together at MEDIUM speed until the mixture is light yellow in color and fluffy.
(This takes 3 to 4 minutes.)
You can also do this by hand, but it takes some muscle.

Turn the mixer down to LOW speed and slowly pour the chocolate and butter mixture into the mixer bowl. Mix this until it’s well combined.

Leave the mixer on LOW speed, and sprinkle in the flour mixture. Mix until it is combined, but DO NOT

over-mix.
(This is like brownie batter. Mix it too much

and it will lose its fluffiness.)

Take the bowl out of the mixer and fold in the chocolate chips by hand.

Scoop out rounded tablespoons of dough and drop them on the cookie sheets.
(Lisa and I use a 2-Tablespoon

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cookie scoop to do this down at The Cookie Jar.)
The cookies should be at least 2 inches apart, no more than 12 cookies to a regular size cookie sheet.

Bake the cookies at 325 degrees F., for 12 to 13 minutes, or until the outside of the cookies are “set”, but the insides are still soft and slightly under-baked.
( Just like brownies.)

Remove the cookies from the oven and transfer the cookie sheets to a wire rack. Cool the cookies on the cookie sheets for 4 minutes. Then pull out the cookie sheet, leaving the cookies and parchment paper on the wire rack to completely cool.

Store these cookies in an airtight container at room temperature. Julia says they are best enjoyed within a week, but I’m almost certain they won’t last even half that long!

Yield: 2 and 1⁄2 to 3 dozen incredible chocolate cookies, depending on cookie size.

! % { # 9 *

219

Chapter

!
Nineteen
#

It was just past five-thirty in the afternoon when Hannah and Michelle pulled into Hannah’s parking spot at the condo. Hannah led the way up the outside staircase to Hannah’s second-floor unit while Michelle carried a large bakery box with three dozen Triple Chocolate Cookies for them to test after dinner tonight.

They were cooking dinner together. Michelle had planned it all out. She would start the Smothered Chicken and Hannah would assemble one of her favorite side dishes, Oodles of Noodles. Once the chicken was in the pan and the heat had been turned down to low, Michelle would do her evening workout on Hannah’s new exercise machine while Hannah put a green salad together and got the coffee ready to go.

Then Michelle would take her shower and Hannah would relax on the couch with a glass of something cold and wet.

“I’ll catch him this time,” Hannah said, setting her grocery bags on the landing and inserting her key in the lock.

“You’ve got your hands full with those . . .”

“What is it?” Michelle asked when Hannah stopped speaking abruptly and stepped back without turning the key or opening the door.

“I don’t know,” Hannah said in a low voice. “I thought I heard something inside.”

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“Moishe?”

“No. It sounded like a . . . a humming.”

“Humming as in music?”

“No. Humming as in noise. It sounded like something was running . . . a mixer, or a blender, or something like that.”

“Did you leave the television on for Moishe?”

“Yes. I always do.”

“Then maybe it’s a cooking show and it actually is a blender or a mixer. Let’s go in and check it out.”

Hannah hesitated for a moment. There were no signs of forced entry. The door was still locked, the living room window was open a bit, but she’d left it that way this morning. It was still broad daylight and would be until at least eight o’clock tonight, and she lived in a secure condo complex with a guard at the gate. It was extremely unlikely that a bur-glar had broken into her home and was blending drinks or mixing up a cake in her kitchen. “Okay,” she said, turning her key in the lock and opening the door.

The cat who hurtled out to meet her almost knocked her off her feet. Somehow Hannah managed to catch him and carry him back inside. Whatever she’d heard was no longer audible. Perhaps the humming noise hadn’t been coming from her unit at all. Since it was summer, most of her neighbors kept their windows open during the day and it was possible that Sue Plotnik, her downstairs neighbor, had been using her mixer or her blender.

“I don’t hear anything,” Michelle said, stepping in behind Hannah.

“Neither do I . . . now. Maybe it was coming from somewhere else. Sometimes the acoustics are strange in this building. Sound bounces off these walls because the units are so close together.”

“Let’s check out the other rooms just to make sure,”

Michelle said, grabbing the baseball bat that Hannah kept leaning in a corner next to the door.

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Joanne Fluke

They checked the rooms one by one, even peering under the beds and inside the closets. Everything was just as they’d left it this morning.

“There’s nothing here,” Hannah said, heading down the hall toward the kitchen. “We’d better get started on dinner. I told everyone to come at seven.”

Hands washed and aprons on, the two sisters started their preparations. Hannah reached into the grocery bags and took what she needed for the noodle casserole. “Here’s the chicken,” she said, handing the white, butcher-paper package to Michelle.

“Why so many chicken breasts?” Michelle asked after she’d opened the package.

“Because extra people are bound to show up. It always happens when we make dinner.”

“But what if we’re only five tonight?”

“Then we’ll have leftovers of Smothered Chicken for dinner tomorrow night.”

“On leftover noodles from tonight?”

“If there
are
any leftover noodles. And if there aren’t, we can have the chicken and sauce over biscuits or rice.”

“True,” Michelle agreed, opening the drawer under the lower oven and getting out Hannah’s biggest frying pan. She put in a combination of butter and olive oil, and prepared to brown the chicken.

While the chicken was browning, Hannah assembled the noodle casserole and slipped it into the top oven. “I’m all ready,” she said to Michelle.

“So am I.” Michelle sprinkled the rest of the herb and flour mixture on top of her chicken and put the lid on the frying pan. She turned the heat down to simmer and went to wash her hands again. “Do you want me to set the table? Or should I do my workout now?”

“I’ll set the table while you work out,” Hannah said. “Go ahead, Michelle.”

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“Okay.” Michelle turned to look at Moishe, whose head was buried in the food bowl Hannah had just filled. “Are you going to come and watch me work out, Moishe?”

Moishe lifted his head to look up at Michelle and then he followed her out of the kitchen. Hannah was amazed. Food had always been Moishe’s number one priority, but it seemed that watching Michelle on the exercise machine was even more interesting than eating.

After she’d set the table and checked the progress of the chicken, Hannah settled down on the couch with a tall glass of iced tea. She was just about to turn on the television to watch the evening news when she heard Michelle calling her from the bedroom.

“I’m here,” she called back. “What is it?”

“Come here, Hannah. You’ve got to see this to believe it.”

Hannah got up and walked down the hallway. Michelle must have discovered something new that the fancy exercise machine could do. She took one step inside her bedroom and stopped to stare in utter disbelief.

Michelle was walking on the treadmill, but she wasn’t the only one. Moishe was walking right in front of her, keeping pace with the speed of the machine.

“See what I mean?” Michelle asked, grinning at Hannah.

“He just watched me this morning, but the minute I turned on the treadmill part of the machine and started to walk, he hopped right up here in front of me and he’s been here ever since.”

“This is just . . . amazing!” Hannah knew the word she’d used to describe this feline feat was too tame, but she was at a loss for words. She had a cat who liked to pace on the treadmill. She’d never seen anything like it before. “Do any other cats do this?” she asked Michelle.