Wedding Cake Murder (14 page)

“You haven’t said anything, Michelle,” Alain Duquesne commented. “Are you going to let the other Miss Swensen do all the talking?”

Michelle laughed. “Hannah is my older sister. In the interest of family harmony, I usually don’t interrupt her.”

Chef Duquesne gave a loud laugh. For one brief moment, he lost his haughty manner and seemed like a person that Hannah might like. “I know exactly what you mean, Michelle. I was the same way with my older sister. She was a real . . .” he stopped himself and chuckled before he finished the sentence. “She was a real force, and there was no way I wanted to cross her.”

Michelle smiled at him. “I do understand . . . even though Hannah’s not that way at all. Usually.”

Alain Duquesne laughed again and then he turned to the other judges. “Please enter your scores on the Swensen sisters’ dessert.” Then he addressed Hannah and Michelle again. “Thank you, ladies. You may go back to your cooking stage now.”

“I think he was hitting on you!” Hannah whispered as she began to walk back to their stage.

“Not now,” Michelle whispered back. “Smile and look pleased. The camera’s still on us.”

Both Hannah and Michelle smiled pleasantly as they walked back the way they had come. Then the giant screen above their heads went to a commercial for a new cooking show that was debuting on the Food Channel, and Hannah sighed heavily. “How do you think we did?”

“Good. They all seemed to like it. Now all we have to do is pack up our things and go back to the greenroom until the other contestants have presented their desserts.”

“And then we come back for the reading of the scores,” Hannah said, her hands shaking slightly as she placed the bowl she’d brought from The Cookie Jar in a box.

“That’s right. We’re through, and I’m glad we were first. Now we get to relax for at least twenty minutes before the finale.”

Hannah felt like laughing, but she didn’t.
Relax?
her mind queried.
How can I relax when everyone back home is counting on us to bring the rest of the competition back to Lake Eden?

“How do you think we did?”

“I think we did great! I doubt any other contestant will try to bake anything as tricky as a soufflé.”

“But mine isn’t tricky.”

“They know that now, but I think the judges were impressed. Chef Duquesne finished every bit of it, and Jeremy Zales only had one spoonful left. Come on, Hannah. Let’s get off our cooking stage and go to the greenroom, where there are no cameras. I never thought I’d say it, but I’m tired of being onstage.”

Chapter Eleven

H
annah leaned back in the comfortable chair, and motioned toward the monitor in the greenroom. “Brooke Jackman’s up now. Let’s see how she does.”

The two sisters watched as Brooke presented her strawberry mousse with marshmallow sauce, a rather odd combination to Hannah’s way of thinking. She could understand strawberry sauce, vanilla or white chocolate sauce, or even another fruit sauce that didn’t have a strong flavor, like kiwi, but she thought that a marshmallow sauce seemed a bit sweet and sticky to be served with a strawberry mousse.

One by one, the judges agreed that the mousse was excellent, but the sauce failed to complement the berry creation. Brooke left the judging table looking disappointed. But then, as soon as she realized that the camera was on her, she smiled. Hannah turned to Michelle.

“If Brooke comes in here, let’s tell her that we want to taste her mousse after the contest is over for the night. And let’s both tell her it’s just as delicious as it looks.”

“I’m in,” Michelle said. “Brooke is really nice and I like her. It’s a shame the judges weren’t more complimentary.”

“That’s true, but they
are
judges. Their job is to rate us and criticize us. All the same, let’s try to make Brooke feel better if we can.”

In a minute or two, Brooke opened the door to the greenroom and came in. From the expression on her face, it was clear she knew she hadn’t won the hometown challenge. “Hi, guys,” she said. “You looked good out there.”

“Thanks,” Hannah said. “So did you, Brooke.”

“I stunk.” Brooke gave a deep sigh as she sat down in one of the chairs. “They hated my mousse.”

“No, they didn’t,” Hannah contradicted her. “They liked the mousse. They just didn’t think the sauce complemented it enough.”

Brooke thought about it for a minute. “You’re right. I never should have asked anyone else for advice.”

“What do you mean?” Michelle asked her.

“I mean, I should have stuck to what I’d planned in the first place.”

Hannah’s eyes narrowed. She remembered seeing Brooke talking to Gloria earlier and suspected what might have happened. “Was the person who advised you Gloria Berkeley?”

“Yes. She tasted my sauces and she said I should use the marshmallow sauce instead of the strawberry.”

“That’s what I thought. What reason did she give?”

“She said the marshmallow would be better because it was different and highly innovative.” Brooke gave another sigh. “I know now that I was a fool for believing her. It was just that I was so nervous. And I really wanted someone else’s opinion.”

“Don’t ask Gloria for advice again,” Michelle warned her. “She doesn’t want you to succeed. If you want to ask someone, ask Hannah or me. We’ll give you an honest answer.”

“Thanks!” Brooke looked very grateful. “Do you think I blew the whole competition tonight?”

Hannah shook her head. “Not at all. Tonight was only the first night. You have three more chances to impress the judges. I doubt that anyone will come in first every night.”

“And don’t forget that all our scores are tallied at the end,” Michelle reminded her. “Everyone’s nervous tonight and mistakes are bound to happen. I was listening to the judging and they didn’t say anything negative about your mousse.”

Brooke looked a bit more hopeful. “You’re right. Chef Zales even said he liked it.”

“Exactly.” Hannah took up the effort to reassure Brooke. “Why don’t you come up to our hotel room when we get back? We’ll relax and have a glass of wine and some snacks on our balcony.”

“Thanks! I’d love to, but . . . it’s the end of October. Isn’t it really cold on your balcony?”

“No, it’s heated,” Michelle explained. “Hannah’s fiancé upgraded us to a really nice suite. You’ve got to see it, Brooke. It’s the fanciest place I’ve ever been.”

“Michelle is right, you’ve got to see it,” Hannah said, smiling at Brooke.

“Are you . . . sure that you want me to come over?”

Brooke sounded very tentative and Hannah gave her a quick nod. “Absolutely. We’ll be in the competition for another week. It’ll be nice to have a friend who’s in the same boat as we are. Bring your assistant too, if you like.”

“Thanks, but her husband came with her on this trip. It’ll be just me, if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine,” Hannah assured her.

Hannah, Michelle, and Brooke watched as the other contestants presented their entries. None of them fared particularly well. Chef Duquesne criticized Loren Berringer for a soggy pie shell on his cherry pie, and Rodney Paloma drew critical comments from Helene Stone for his meringue because it contained “beads” on top. Then it was Gloria Berkeley’s turn, and all three of them leaned forward to see how the contestant who’d given Brooke bad advice would do.

Gloria’s entry consisted of two little cakes for each judge, one vanilla and one chocolate. Her assistant had mixed up the cake batter, and all Gloria had done was ladle it into the pans. While the mini cakes were baking, the assistant had made the two sauces, and Gloria hadn’t really done anything at all except turn the cakes out when they were done.

“Frosting?” Michelle guessed.

Brooke shook her head. “It looks more like two different sauces.”

“One’s strawberry,” Hannah said. “And the other is . . . uh-oh!”

“What?” Michelle asked her.

“I’m not positive, but . . .”

“I know what you’re thinking, and I’m almost sure you’re right.” Brooke interrupted her, and Hannah noticed that she looked deeply troubled. “That’s my marshmallow sauce! I noticed that the recipe was missing when I got back to the hotel this afternoon, but I didn’t worry about it. I just thought I’d probably left it at my workstation and the people who came in to do the cleanup had thrown it away.”

“Did you go down to the Food Channel building to check?” Michelle asked her.

“No. I brought my laptop and portable printer with me, and I just printed out another copy.”

“Are you sure that Gloria’s assistant made
your
marshmallow sauce?” Hannah asked, hoping that wasn’t the case.

“I’m sure. I noticed that Gloria’s assistant added hazelnut butter, and that’s my secret ingredient.”

“Are you going to say anything to the judges?” Michelle asked her.

“I don’t think it’ll do any good. She’d probably claim that it was her recipe in the first place and I took it from her!”

“Let’s wait and see how she does in the judging,” Michelle suggested. “One of the judges might notice that your marshmallow sauce and Gloria’s marshmallow sauce taste the same.”

“Maybe,” Brooke answered, but she sounded doubtful.

They watched the monitor as Gloria walked forward and presented her dessert to the judges. The sauce was ladled on top of the cakes, strawberry on the vanilla cake, and marshmallow on the chocolate. The judges tasted the cakes and the sauces.

The critique of the cakes came first. The judges agreed that the cakes would have been quite ordinary without the sauces. And then they agreed that the two sauces were excellent. None of them seemed to realize that Brooke and Gloria had served the same marshmallow sauce. Chef Duquesne even commented that he liked Gloria’s marshmallow sauce much better than Brooke’s, and that it certainly complemented the cakes much better than it had complemented Brooke’s mousse!

Hannah, Michelle, and Brooke watched the doorway to the greenroom as the other contestants finished their presentations and came in to wait to be called back for their scores. Gloria was the last one to enter the comfortable waiting area, and she took a seat on one of the couches next to Loren.

“You did just great, Gloria,” Loren said, smiling at her. “I think we all ought to celebrate when we get back to the hotel, and meet up in the bar.”

“Sorry, we have other plans,” Hannah said, giving him a friendly smile. “But thank you for asking us, Loren.”

“Can’t make it tonight,” Rodney said, giving Gloria a glance that could only be construed as suggestive.

“Same here,” Gloria said, giving Rodney a sexy smile before she turned back to Loren. “I’m busy, too. Just wait until the contest moves to my restaurant in Atlanta. I’ll show you all the hot places to go.”

“That must mean you think you won,” Hannah said to Gloria.

“Oh, I do. My dessert was better than any of the others, and I know Alain thought so, too.”

Alain?
Hannah’s mind queried. Everyone else called him Chef Duquesne, or Judge Duquesne. By using his first name, Gloria had referred to him in a much more familiar manner. Either Gloria was guilty of wishful thinking, or she believed that she had an edge with the head judge.

“Do you know the head judge personally?” Hannah couldn’t resist asking.

“Of course not. If I did, I’d have to disqualify myself. I only sat with him for one drink in the bar last night. After that, I went straight up to my room.”

Alone?
Hannah’s mind prompted her, but she didn’t ask. Instead, she asked another question. “You ran into Judge Duquesne in the bar and he bought you a drink?”

Gloria shook her head. “No. I already had a glass of wine. I was sitting there alone and he came in. He walked right over and sat down on the stool next to me. And then he ordered a drink. What could I do? I wasn’t about to refuse to sit next to him. That would have been rude. So I finished my wine in a big hurry and went up to my room.”

Alone?
Hannah’s mind repeated, but Hannah ignored it for the second time. And then, just as she was wishing for an interruption to this awkward conversation, the production assistant came into the greenroom.

“Please follow me, single file, and take your places at your cooking stages. The judges are ready to announce the scores.”

Hannah’s knees were trembling slightly as she followed the production assistant from the room. They were about to find out if Gloria’s expectations had been correct. Hannah found herself hoping that Gloria would be disappointed and get what she deserved for stealing Brooke’s marshmallow sauce recipe and then using it against her victim in the competition.

“Keep smiling no matter what happens,” Michelle warned as they took their places at their workstation. And then Judge Duquesne began to read the scores, explaining that he would proceed from the lowest to the highest, and the name of the winner would be last.

“Chef Brooke Jackman,” Judge Duquesne intoned. “Our judging panel agreed that your mousse was excellent. The sauce was also excellent, but it did not complement the flavor of the mousse.”

Somehow Brooke and her assistant managed to keep smiling. Hannah wondered if she could have done the same if she were in Brooke’s position. It showed remarkable aplomb, and Hannah was proud of Brooke for being such a good sport.

“Chef Loren Berringer. As we mentioned during the judging, your piecrust did not have the dry, flaky character that is desirable in a pie. The judging panel agreed that brushing the bottom and sides of your piecrust with egg white and prebaking it might not have worked with your filling. We suggest you look into the slip-and-slide method some chefs use with pies of this nature.”

“Chef Rodney Paloma, your dessert was undeniably delicious, but that does not change the fact that your meringue had beaded. While I, personally, do not object to this slight imperfection, Ms. Stone’s score reflected her displeasure with your meringue. If it is of any solace, I must tell you that I think the amber beading on a meringue is rather attractive and for that reason, I gave you a higher score.”

Michelle reached out to squeeze Hannah’s hand and Hannah realized that she’d been holding her breath. “Smile, no matter what happens,” Michelle whispered.