Wedding Cake Murder (11 page)

He sounded serious and Hannah looked up to try to read his expression. “What about?”

“The Food Channel competition. Why didn’t you call to tell me that they changed the date?”

Hannah felt a sudden stab of guilt. “I’m sorry, Ross. I should have called you right away. Andrea told me that and she was right. It was just I . . . well . . . it never occurred to me to call you at work.”

“But didn’t you think I’d want to know?”

Hannah sighed and admitted defeat. “I didn’t think. That’s the problem. I’m over thirty, Ross, and I’ve never been married. I’ve always been alone, and I guess I’m just used to handling things on my own. It’s a big change, but I really am sorry, and . . .” she stopped as she realized that tears were gathering in her eyes. “I . . . I’ll do better. I promise I will.”

“Oh, honey!” Ross hugged her tightly. “It’s okay. I know you’ve never been part of a couple and it takes some time to get used to it. Don’t worry. We’re not joined at the hip, or anything like that. The only thing it took was a little arranging.”

“Arranging?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to tell you until it was firm, but KCOW is sending me with you to New York. I’m going to film a special about your experience as a contestant in a national baking competition.”

Hannah was so surprised, she stopped feeling guilty. Instead, she was flabbergasted. “You mean you’re going with Michelle and me?”

“Not just me. P.K.’s going along, too. He’s their best cameraman, and they want him to get the experience. He told me he met you?”

“Yes, he did.” Hannah smiled. “He was the night engineer at KCOW then.”

“He told me. He said he met you during the Hartland Flour Competition and he helped set up some outtakes for you to watch.”

“Does he still wear a ponytail and an earring?”

“Not anymore.”

“I really liked him, Ross. We got to talking and he told me that someday he wanted to direct.”

“He still does. He also wants to make independent films, and I’m training him. That’s why I’m taking him along with us to New York. He’ll be my second cameraman, but he’ll also be learning about producing independent segments.”

“That’s just wonderful! I’m so glad you’ll be with me in New York, Ross. I didn’t like the thought of leaving you right before the wedding.”

Ross gave her a quick kiss. “Were you worried that I’d get cold feet?”

“No, it’s not that. I just knew I’d be lonely without you.”

Hannah’s answer generated another, much longer kiss. Hannah was just wishing that they were already married and Ross could stay when she heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

“Oh! Sorry!” Michelle said, walking into the room and noticing Ross on the couch. “I didn’t know you were here, Ross. I was coming out to make sure I turned off the oven after I warmed the dessert. I’ll just check and go right back to bed.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Ross said, smiling at her. “I have to leave in a couple of minutes anyway, and I’ll see you both for breakfast.” He paused and began to smile. “Say, Michelle . . . you don’t happen to have any of that dessert left, do you?”

Michelle laughed. “As a matter of fact I do. I was thinking about having a piece myself. How about you, Hannah?”

Hannah smiled. “Have you ever heard me turn down dessert?”

“No!”

Both Michelle and Ross answered at once, and then all three of them laughed.

“If you cut it, I’ll warm it in the microwave,” Hannah offered. “It’ll be a perfect midnight snack.”

“But it’s only eleven,” Ross pointed out.

“That’s okay,” Hannah said. “At midnight I’ll probably be dreaming about how good it was.”

Chapter Eight

T
he recipe testing at The Cookie Jar had been a huge success. When Lisa had announced that the whole town of Lake Eden would be helping Hannah and that they could watch the New York segment on television, everyone came in to offer suggestions and critique a small sample of the dessert of the day. That sampling seemed to whet their appetites for more sweet treats, and Hannah and Lisa sold more cookies than they’d expected.

It was the morning of the day they were leaving for New York, and Hannah was sitting in the living room of her condo with Ross and Michelle, her suitcase at her feet. Norman had already picked up Moishe, who’d been so obviously excited at the prospect of going to play with Cuddles that he’d tugged on the leash attached to his harness while Norman had said good-bye and wished them success.

“Isn’t it almost time to leave?” Hannah asked Ross, who glanced at his watch.

“Yes. The driver should be here any minute.”

Immediately following his answer, there was a knock on Hannah’s door.

“I’ll get it,” Ross said, jumping up and carrying Hannah’s suitcase to the door. “Our car must be here.”

Just as Ross had predicted, a uniformed driver stood there waiting. Hannah recognized him as one of the drivers that Cyril Murphy used for his Shamrock Limousine Service.

Ross handed the driver two suitcases, which the driver took down the outside staircase. When he reappeared, Ross handed him the rest of their luggage and then he shut the door again and turned back to Hannah.

“Let’s go, Cookie. The driver said he’s pulling the limo around to the sidewalk so we don’t have to walk down to the garage.”

“Oh, good! But it’s not a limo, is it? The Food Channel told me they were sending a van.”

“They were, but now that I’m going along, I upgraded to a limo.”

“KCOW sprang for a limo?” Hannah asked him, amazed that the radio and television station that had a reputation for being on a tight budget would go to those lengths to make them comfortable.

“KCOW allowed a certain amount for P.K. and me, and I picked up the rest.” Ross walked to the couch and took her arm to help her up. “I wanted my bride-to-be and her sister to ride to the airport in comfort.”

Hannah waited until they were in the limo and the driver had pulled out of her condo complex. Hannah leaned close to Ross. “Can you afford something like this on KCOW’s salary?” she asked in a low voice.

“Don’t worry about it, Hannah. It’s tax deductible because I still have my status as an independent producer. Didn’t I tell you that I transferred my bank account here to Lake Eden First Mercantile Bank? Doug Greerson handled it for me.”

“But . . . isn’t a limo a lot more expensive than a van?”

Ross laughed. “No, not if you compare the price to L.A. I can afford it. I didn’t spend much money when I was living in California and I’ve made a lot of money since I moved here. We can afford a limo for such an important trip.”

Hannah felt a warm glow. Ross had said
we
, instead of
I
. That meant he was already thinking of them as a couple. She still didn’t understand how someone could save money when they were wining and dining the Hollywood luminaries Ross had told her about, and he certainly couldn’t be making a fortune working at KCOW-TV, but she wasn’t about to question him further.

It took a moment, but then Hannah remembered the independent film Ross had made right here in Lake Eden and the Minneapolis television station that had offered to pay a fee if they could air it on their
Minnesota Movies
show. Ross had told her they wanted to feature it in the premiere of their new programming, and the deal with them must have gone through.

Hannah gave Ross a big smile. “This is wonderful, Ross. I feel like a rich woman, riding in such luxury. Thank you so much for thinking of it!”

“Only the best for the woman I love.” Ross pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “We’re going to have a really good life, Hannah. I know we will.”

“Yes,” Hannah said, but something was niggling at the back of her mind. How much money was there? And would it run out if Ross continued to spend it on limos like this? But he had said it wasn’t expensive compared to Los Angeles prices. And this
was
a once in a lifetime experience. She highly doubted that she’d ever be invited to be part of a national competition again. She really should relax, enjoy herself, and trust the man who would soon be her new husband.

The time passed quickly when you were riding in a limo and didn’t have to worry about driving, or directions, or traffic. Cyril’s driver was a thorough professional and he got them to the airport early. He idled at the curbside check-in, got a skycap to check them in, get their boarding passes, and load their luggage. After a brief moment with Ross, the driver drove away. Then they all walked into the airport.

“Let’s get through security and then we’ll go up to the Sky Lounge,” Ross said, picking up Hannah’s carry-on and his. P.K. did the same for Michelle and they headed off to security.

The lines were short and they were through in less than ten minutes. Ross led them down the hallway, through a door marked M
EMBERS
O
NLY
that required a key card, and checked them in with a man at a huge desk in front of an elevator. Then he took them around a corner to another, smaller elevator.

“We go up in this one,” he told them, slipping his key card into the slot again. Before Hannah could even think to ask where this elevator went, the doors opened and Ross motioned them inside. He inserted his card in a slot near the front, the doors closed, and the elevator began to rise.

“There aren’t any buttons on this elevator,” Michelle said, staring at the blank panel where the buttons for the floors would have been in most elevators.

“That’s because this is an express elevator that only goes to one place,” Ross told her.

Almost before the words were out of his mouth, the elevator slowed to a stop and the door opened to reveal another desk with a man in a suit sitting behind it.

“Good morning, sir,” the man greeted Ross, taking the card Ross handed to him. He scanned it in some sort of card reader and gave Ross a welcoming smile.

“Everything is ready for you, Mr. Barton. Please follow me.”

Ross motioned them forward and they followed him to a lounge on the top floor of the airport where they took swivel chairs around a black onyx table. A smiling waitress arrived almost immediately to take their drink and breakfast orders from the menus on the table. Once she’d left, Hannah turned to Ross.

“There’s no one else here,” she commented.

“That’s because it’s early. It’ll fill up in a couple of hours.”

“We must have gotten here right after they opened,” Michelle said.

“No.” Ross shook his head. “They’re open twenty-four hours a day for members.”

“Does it cost a lot to belong to a club like this?” Hannah asked, hoping she didn’t sound worried.

“It’s worth it if you fly as much as I do . . . or as much as I used to do. Everything’s free, including the drinks, and there are cubicles where you can stretch out and rest if your flight is delayed.”

“What if you fall asleep?” P.K. asked.

“They wake you in time to catch your flight and they have their own private cart waiting to take you to the gate. You get full VIP service, and you don’t have to wait in those uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area by the gate.”

Their breakfast arrived and Hannah was momentarily distracted. She’d ordered smoked salmon with capers, cream cheese, and toast points. It was so artfully arranged and presented on a bone china plate. It was so attractive that it could have been used on a gourmet magazine cover.

“Gorgeous!” Michelle breathed, and Hannah glanced at her sister’s plate. Michelle had ordered Eggs Benedict and again, the breakfast entrée was so beautifully arranged, it could have starred in a magazine photo. The food looked lovely in the Sky Lounge and the service left nothing to be desired. But how did their breakfast entrées taste?

There was only one way to find out and Hannah could hardly wait! She spread cream cheese on a toast point and sprinkled on some capers. She’d learned that from Delores. Capers tended to roll off if you put them on top of the salmon, but if you pressed them down into the layer of cream cheese, they stayed in place until you could eat them.

Breakfast was wonderful. It was clear that everyone loved it because there was total silence while they ate and every one of them finished every bite. Four cups of excellent coffee later, a pleasant-looking young woman wearing an airline uniform approached their table.

“Your flight is ready, Mr. Barton,” she said, smiling at Ross.

“Thank you,” Ross said, rising from his chair. Hannah and everyone else followed suit. It was obviously time to go.

“Please follow me,” the young woman said, leading them to the elevator. And when they’d reached the ground floor, she escorted them past the front desk and led them to a motorized cart driven by a uniformed driver.

“Please be seated,” she told them. “Your flight is waiting for you. We wish you a safe and pleasurable journey to New York.”

Hannah was impressed and she glanced at Ross. He seemed to be taking the special treatment they’d received in stride. Of course, Ross had flown many more times than she had. Hannah’s only flight thus far, had been on the private jet that had carried her sisters, Doc, and Delores to Las Vegas.

Prepared to experience a letdown when she boarded a commercial flight, Hannah followed Ross as he led them to the Jetway. The long, carpeted section was completely deserted and she turned to him with a frown. “We’re flying a commercial jet, aren’t we?” She asked.

“Yes, we are. It’s my favorite airline.”

“Good, but where are all the other people?”

Ross turned to her with a smile. “They’re on the plane already. The people in the Sky Lounge wait until boarding is complete. They board last so that they don’t have to stand in line.”

Hannah was a bit nervous as she walked up the ramp. She’d heard horror stories about commercial flights. Rose McDermott had flown home to see her parents at Christmas, and she’d told Hannah about being sandwiched in between a terribly overweight man and a lady who kept falling asleep and putting her head on Rose’s shoulder. Rose had told her that when you flew coach, you had to be in the first group that boarded to get the good seats.