Double Fudge Brownie Murder (Hannah Swensen series Book 18) (26 page)

“You didn’t resent the fact that he left you and married Nora?” Michelle asked the question that was hovering on the tip of Hannah’s tongue.
“Oh, I did. At first. But I didn’t really want to marry Geoffrey. It wasn’t him. I just didn’t want to marry at all. I didn’t find out that I was pregnant with Sara until after Geoffrey left.”
Hannah asked the first question on the list she’d prepared. “Where were you when Judge Colfax was killed?”
“Right here,” Peggy reached out to pat the couch next to her chair. “And I do mean right
here
. I had a deadline to meet and I’d spent all night proofing the manuscript. When I finished, I sent off the file to my editor in New York and I was just too tired to get ready for bed. I grabbed a blanket from the closet and fell asleep on the couch.”
“Did anyone see you here on the couch?”
“Just Sara, but she left early and that won’t do you any good. Dave said that Geoffrey was killed between nine and nine-thirty and Sara left at seven. She’s an assistant professor at the community college.”
“Is there anyone else who might know that you were here when Geoffrey was killed? Perhaps someone knocked on the door and you had to get up to answer it? Or you made or received a phone call?”
“Not that I can think of. The phone didn’t ring and . . .” Peggy stopped speaking and began to smile. “Of course there’s a way to tell I was here. I forgot all about the guard at the gate. Didn’t he stop you to ask who you were visiting and log in your license plate number?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Well, they do that with the residents, too. They have a checklist and they log you out if you leave. If I’d been logged out, the guard would have told you to come back later, that I wasn’t home.”
“Perfect,” Hannah said, jotting it down. And then she asked the question she’d been dreading to ask. “How about your daughter, Sara? Where was she at the time of Judge Colfax’s death?”
“Sara?”
Peggy looked as shocked as a person could possibly look. “You think that Sara killed Geoffrey?! Why she couldn’t even go to work on Tuesday because she was crying so hard!”
“Of course I don’t think Sara killed him,” Hannah said hastily. “It sounds as if they had a very good relationship and I’m so sorry to bring it up, but I simply want to cross her name off my suspect list.”
“Then you don’t really think . . . ?”
“Absolutely not!” Hannah interrupted the question. “All I want to do is clear Sara’s name the way I’ve cleared yours.”
“Oh. That’s fine then.” Peggy drew a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry I overreacted.”
“That’s quite all right. Let’s try to think of a way we can prove that Sara was nowhere near the Winnetka County Courthouse on Monday.”
“Why that’s easy!” Peggy exclaimed. “Sara teaches a lab in biology from nine to ten on Monday mornings. All you have to do is check with the college to make sure she was in the lab.”
“I’ll do that,” Hannah promised. “Now I have one final question and I want you to think very hard about it and call me if anything occurs to you after we leave. Will you please do that?”
“Of course. What is it?”
“I want you to think about your life with Geoffrey and all the people you met or heard about. Is there anyone you can think of who might have wanted Geoffrey to die?”
“His ex-wife Sheila?”
“Not Sheila. I’ve already cleared her.”
Peggy was silent for long moments and Hannah could tell that she was giving the question some serious thought. Several minutes passed and then Peggy looked up. “No one. I can’t think of anyone at all. But please leave me your number and if I think of someone, I promise I’ll call you and tell you.”
CINNAMON RAISIN SCONES
 
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F., rack in the middle position.
3 cups all-purpose flour
(pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
cup brown sugar
(pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
(important)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 and ½ teaspoons cinnamon
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup salted butter
(1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound)
 
2 large eggs, beaten
(just whip them up in a glass with a fork)
1 cup vanilla yogurt
(8 ounces by weight)
1 cup raisins
(I used golden raisins)
½ cup whole milk
 
Use a medium-size mixing bowl to combine the flour, brown sugar, cream of tartar, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt. Stir them all up together. Cut in the salted butter just as you would for piecrust dough.
 
Hannah’s Note: If you have a food processor, you can use it for the first step. Cut the half-cup COLD salted butter into 8 chunks. Layer them with the dry ingredients in the bowl of the food processor. Process with the steel blade
in an on and off motion until the mixture has the texture of coarse cornmeal. Transfer the mixture to a medium-sized mixing bowl.
 
Stir in the beaten eggs and the vanilla yogurt. Then add the raisins and mix everything up together.
 
Add the milk and stir until everything is combined.
 
Drop the scones by soup spoonfuls onto two cookie sheets sprayed with Pam or another nonstick baking spray. Alternatively, you can line your baking sheets with parchment paper. Divide your dough so that there are 9 scones for each cookie sheet.
 
If you have two ovens, you will bake one sheet in the upper oven and one in the lower oven. If you have only one oven, it will probably have 4 racks inside. Bake your scones on the two middle racks, switching their positions halfway through the baking time.
 
Once the scones are on the cookie sheets, wet your impeccably clean fingers and shape them into more perfect rounds. Then flatten them with your moistened palms. They will rise during baking, but once you flatten them, they won’t be too round on top.
 
Bake the scones at 425 degrees F. for 10 to 12 minutes, or until they’re golden brown on top.
(Mine took the full 12 minutes.)
 
Cool the scones for at least five minutes on the cookie sheet, and then remove them to a wire rack with a metal spatula.
(If you used parchment paper, all you have to do is position the cookie sheet next to the wire rack and pull the paper over to the rack.)
 
When the scones are cool, you can cut them in half lengthwise and toast them for breakfast.
 
Yield: Makes 18 delicious scones.
 
Chapter Twenty-six
 
I
t had been a productive morning and Hannah congratulated herself as she baked a batch of Orange Dreamsicle Bar Cookies for her customers. Lisa was in the coffee shop telling the newest installment of the cat burglar story and Aunt Nancy and Marge were helping to take care of the customers. Michelle was in the kitchen with Hannah, sitting on a stool at the work station, involved in research on her laptop computer.
“How’s it coming, Michelle?” Hannah asked her as she slipped the pans of bar cookies into the oven.
“Not so hot. I think we struck out on Judge Colfax’s court cases. I’ve looked at all the ones that received press coverage and there’s nothing that could provide a motive for murder. Initially, there were five cases that might have qualified, but the criminals he sentenced are still behind bars.”
“No rapists that got off or any three-strike offenders?”
Michelle shook her head. “He didn’t try any rape cases. The three-strike rule was only in effect for a few of his cases and none of those are candidates.”
“Did you get time to check with the community college?”
“Yes. Sara George was there for her lab and she didn’t leave the campus until four that afternoon. Assistant professors have to check in and out with the department secretaries.”
“I hate to admit it, but I’m stymied. I’m fresh out of suspects, Michelle.”
“No, you’re not. There’s still the unknown suspect for the unknown reason.”
“So what am I supposed to do with him? Arrest him for an unknown reason?”
Michelle laughed. “It’s good to see you still have your sense of humor. If you want my advice, you’ll come up with a new recipe and bake. That always gets you thinking. Let’s go down to Florence’s and walk up and down the aisles. Maybe we’ll get an idea for an ingredient that no one else has ever used in a cookie before.”
Hannah seized the opportunity. “That sounds like more fun than sitting here tearing out my hair. Just let me ask Aunt Nancy if she’ll take these bar cookies out of the oven when the timer rings, and we’ll go.”
 
Twenty minutes later, Hannah and Michelle were in the condiment aisle of the Lake Eden Red Owl Grocery Store, walking past an array of jars and bottles.
“I just walked past a jar of raspberry mustard,” Michelle said.
“Interesting, but no. Let’s keep looking.”
“How about raspberry vinegar?”
“Been there, done that. Whoa! What’s this?” Hannah stopped in front of a row of jams and jellies.
“What’s what?” Michelle asked her.
“This jelly.” Hannah pointed to a jar on the shelf. “It’s called Hot Pepper Jelly.”
“Made with red jalapeños.” Michelle read the label aloud. “But you’re not thinking of . . .”
“Oh, yes I am!” Hannah interrupted her. “I thought I had the jump on Mike when Dave didn’t give him Peggy George’s name or tell him about her daughter, but it turned out that going to interview her was just another blind alley.”
“But I liked her,” Michelle protested.
“So did I. That’s not what I meant, Michelle. It’s just that I thought I had the advantage over Mike, and I didn’t.”
“It’s a contest with you two. Whatever made you think that you might marry him?”
“I don’t remember,” Hannah said with a laugh. “It was probably because he’s so . . . so . . .”
“He certainly is!” Michelle said. And then both of them laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Florence asked, coming around the end of the aisle.
“Hot Pepper Jelly,” Hannah said, holding up the jar.
“Oh, that. They sent two cases by mistake. I’ve got to remember to send them back, unless . . . You don’t want any, do you?”
“I think we do,” Hannah said, deciding on the spot.
“But only at a greatly reduced price,” Michelle added.
Florence nodded. “I can do that. It’ll save me the time and the trouble of returning it. And it’ll save me the shipping cost, too. How about a dollar a jar?”
“Sold!” Michelle said, grabbing jars and putting them in their shopping cart. “We’ll take all the red you’ve got and we’ll take the green, too.”
“There’s green?” Hannah turned to her sister in surprise.
“Right here. Mild Pepper Jelly. It’s made from green jalapeños. Red and green. They’re Christmas colors. Just think about what you can do with this jelly for the holidays!”
Florence stared at Michelle as if she were from another planet. “If you girls bake any red and green cookies for Christmas, I’m not eating any,” she announced.
 
Hannah had just finished sprinkling the Orange Dreamsicle Bar Cookies with powdered sugar when there was a knock on the kitchen door. She glanced at the clock. It was too early to be Ross. “Will you get it?” she asked Michelle.
A moment later, Michelle led Norman into the kitchen and got him settled with a cup of coffee at the stainless steel work station.
“Hi, Hannah.” Norman said.
“Hello, Norman. Would you like to try one of my Orange Dreamsicle Bar Cookies? They’re new.”
“I’d love to. Thanks Hannah. I just stopped by to see if you’d recovered from last night.”
“From last night?”
“Yes, from the dinner party. You and Michelle must have worked very hard to get ready for a party that big.”
“Don’t worry about us. We’ve recovered.”
“How’s Ross?”
“He was fine this morning. He stopped by for one of Michelle’s scones on his way to work.”
“I hope he gets that job, Hannah. He’s a really nice guy and everybody here gets along with him. I think he’d be a nice addition to our group.”
Not if you knew how I felt about him,
Hannah’s mind said.
Then you’d want him to stay away.
But she didn’t say that. Instead, she said, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.”
“These are really good, Hannah,” Norman said when he’d tasted the bar cookies she brought him. “And the name is perfect. They do taste like Orange Dreamsicles.”
“Thanks,” Hannah said, hoping he wouldn’t notice how distracted she was.
“How are you coming along with the investigation?”
“I’m not,” Hannah replied with a sigh. “I’ve cleared every suspect on my list except the unknown suspect with the unknown motive. There’s got to be a reason Judge Colfax was killed. I don’t believe it was random. Someone had a very personal reason for wanting him dead.”
“Maybe we’re missing something,” Norman said, and Hannah noticed that he’d used the plural. Norman always wanted to help when she investigated murder cases.
“Maybe.” Hannah said, but she was doubtful. She’d gone over everything with Michelle and she’d reviewed her own notes countless times. “If we’re missing something, I don’t know what it is.”
“Of course you don’t,” Norman said with a grin. “If you did, you wouldn’t be missing anything.”
Hannah groaned and then she reached out to give him a hug. That comment was pure Norman and she adored his sense of humor. She wanted to be with Ross. That hadn’t changed. She’d told her mother that she didn’t love Norman the way she loved Ross, but was that because she’d taken Norman for granted and assumed that he would always be around for her? Could she ever be completely happy if she lost Norman as a result of loving Ross?

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