Carrot Cake Murder Part 33

"Yes." Andrea began to smile.

"Well, it's perfect for you. And I like your new hairstyle." Delores turned to Tracey. "Doesn't your mother look wonderful?"

"Mommy's always beautiful," Tracey replied, earning a hug from Andrea.

Once Bill, Lonnie, Lisa, and Herb had joined them, they made their way to the largest table in the dining room of the Lake Eden Inn. As usual, Delores had arranged place cards, and Hannah found hers. She was seated between Mike and Norman again. She gave a little sigh, decided it wasn't worth making a fuss about, and pulled out her chair to sit down. But before she could take her place at the table, Tracey rushed up to her.

"Aunt Hannah?" Tracey looked anxious. "Will you go to the ladies' room with me?"

Hannah nodded and slid her chair in again. There was more to this request than met the ear. Tracey was one of the most independent very-soon-to-be first graders in her cla.s.s. If she'd needed to visit the ladies' room, she would have told Andrea where she was going, and gone by herself.

Hannah waited until they got out into the carpeted hallway outside the dining room, and then she asked, "Okay, what is it?"

"I want to get three more Girl Scout merit badges before the awards program, and one of them is for cooking. You have to make lunch all by yourself. The only part I can't do is dessert, and I want to have cookies."

Hannah thought she knew what was coming. "And you want me to teach you how to bake cookies?"

"Yes, Aunt Hannah. Will you, please? I can't ask Mom. You know why. I can't ask Grandma Delores, either. I know she doesn't bake. And if I ask Grandma McCann, I might hurt Mom's feelings."

"And you don't think it'll hurt your mom's feelings if I teach you to bake?"

"Why would it?" Tracey shrugged, and it was a miniature duplicate of Andrea's shrug. "You're the professional, Aunt Hannah. Everybody knows that."

Flattery will get you everywhere, Hannah thought, and that's something you did get from your mother! But of course she didn't say that. She said instead, "I'll be happy to teach you to bake, Tracey. It'll be fun."

"Chocolate Chip Crunch Cookies?" Tracey asked her. "They're Mom's favorites and then I can bake them for her."

"Good idea. Do you want to go on to the ladies' room? Or was that just a ploy to get me alone to ask me?"

"It was just a ploy. Let's go back in, Aunt Hannah. I want to use Mom's cell phone to talk to Bethany. She couldn't come because she's too little for one of Grandma's dinner parties, but I promised I'd call and tell her good night."

It was a lovely meal. Delores had ordered something new on the menu. It was called "A Taste of the Lake Eden Inn," and it was a meal of ten small samples of Sally's best dishes.

"That was great!" Bill said, putting down his fork after eating the last morsel of Sally's Flourless Chocolate Cake. And then he turned to Andrea. "That tasted almost as good as you look tonight. I've got the most beautiful wife in the world."

For one brief second Andrea looked shocked, but then she started to smile. "Thank you, honey," she said.

Thank you, Bill, Hannah thought, but she didn't say it. She was glad Bill had taken her advice when she'd cued him in about Andrea's makeover. "Thank you, Mother," she said instead. "That was a wonderful meal!"

Everyone else jumped on the bandwagon, thanking Delores for inviting them and complimenting her on her menu choice. When the thanks had died down, Delores rose to her feet and gestured toward Carrie. "We have some very good news, but I'll let Carrie tell you. And after she does, I have some personal good news of my own."

Delores sat down, and Carrie stood up. Hannah had a feeling they'd rehea.r.s.ed this. "I'm not sure you know this, but Marge and Patsy asked us to hold a silent auction for the Honus Wagner baseball card that belonged to their brother, Gus. We sent out notices yesterday morning, and as of two o'clock this afternoon, our Granny's Attic Web site had received five firm offers."

"Tell them about the minimum opening bid," Delores prompted.

"The minimum opening bid for the card was one million, five hundred thousand dollars," Carrie said. "That's the least it could sell for. And the fact that we've received five bids in less than forty-eight hours shows that there are a lot of interested parties out there. I wouldn't be surprised if the winning bid is over two million dollars."

"When does the bidding close?" Andrea asked.

"Next Sat.u.r.day morning at ten. We gave them a week to discuss it with their clients and enter a bid."

"That's wonderful!" Hannah clapped her hands. And then she asked the question she knew was on everyone's mind. "Who gets the money?"

"It'll be divided evenly between Marge and Patsy," Delores told them. "Gus never married, and he had no children. Marge and Patsy are his only surviving siblings."

Herb gulped so loudly, they all heard it. "You mean Mom and Aunt Patsy could each inherit almost a million dollars?"

"That's right," Carrie told him, "minus our commission, of course. And now Delores has something to tell you."

"It's the real reason we're celebrating tonight," Delores said, smiling at all of them, "but not even Carrie knows why."

Carrie nodded. "It's true. She wouldn't tell me. She said she wanted to tell everyone all together."

All eyes were on Delores, and she clearly reveled in the moment. Hannah decided to ask the critical question. "What are we celebrating, Mother?"

"Remember when we all got together at the Inn the last time?" Delores asked.

"I remember."

"And I said I was working on a secret project, and I'd tell you if it actually happened?"

"I remember," Hannah said.

"Well...it happened."

"What happened?" at least four of them asked at once, and Delores laughed.

"The secret project was my book. And a big New York publisher bought it."

For a moment they were all shocked speechless, and Hannah was the first to recover. "Congratulations, Mother! Is it a book about antiques?"

"No, it's fiction."

Carrie's mouth dropped open in surprise. "A Regency Romance?" she guessed.

"You're right!" Delores told her, looking very proud of herself. "And I used every one of you for characters. Isn't that marvelous?"

Uh-oh! Hannah said under her breath. "You used all of us?" she asked aloud.

"Of course, dear. One must write from life, you know. My three dear daughters are in it, of course, and I think I did a good job of depicting your true characters." She turned to Carrie. "Naturally you're in it, Carrie. And so is Mike, and Norman, and Lisa, too. You're there, Herb. And Bill. And Lonnie. I even put some members of my Regency Romance group in it."

"How about me, Grandma Delores?" Tracey asked.

"Of course, darling. I couldn't write a book without putting you in it. You might not be the age you are now, though, so don't look for a six-year-old girl."

"Okay, Grandma. I won't."

"You know what they always say about real people in books, don't you?" Delores asked them, her eyes scanning the crowd.

"No, what do they say?" Hannah finally asked, when no one else spoke up.

"They say that people don't recognize themselves because they don't see themselves the way others do."

Uh-oh! Hannah's mind said again. This could be very bad.

"I did my best to be entirely truthful and take off the rose-colored gla.s.ses I normally wear to view my friends and loved ones," Delores went on. "I wrote you the way you truly are, the way someone who didn't know and love you like I do, would describe your flaws and your strengths."

"Oh, brother!" Hannah breathed, a little louder than she had intended. She was rewarded by a smile from Norman and a gentle nudge of approval by Mike.

"I didn't quite hear you, Hannah. What was that again?" Delores asked her.

Hannah thought fast. "I said Oh, Mother to get your attention. I wanted to ask you when they're going to publish your book."

"Sometime next year."

Perfect, Hannah thought. That should give me enough time to sell The Cookie Jar and move hundreds of miles away.

"Will you let me know exactly when?" she asked.

"Of course. Are you going to hold a launch party for me, dear?"

"Oh, definitely!" Hannah said, wondering how much money it would cost to launch her mother straight to the moon.

As she walked to her cookie truck, still sandwiched between Mike and Norman, Hannah had a sneaking suspicion that the last of the summer evenings had come and gone. There was a crispness to the air that spoke of leaves turning colors, pumpkins ripening on the vine, and chrysanthemums triumphing as the last flower of autumn before winter's icy fingers sprinkled snow on the flowerbeds.

"What time is it anyway?" Hannah asked, since she'd forgotten her watch on her dressing table.

"Almost eight," Norman answered her.

"How about a movie at my place," she suggested, now that she'd finally caught up on her sleep. "I rented two of the newest releases at the video store, and I've got the leftover Black Forest Brownies."

Mike shook his head. "It sounds great, but I've got to pa.s.s. I dropped Ronni at the mall on my way here, and I have to meet her and drive her home. Her car's not working right."

A likely story, Hannah thought. As a matter of fact, it was the very same story Shawna Lee had used when she'd lived in Mike's apartment complex. "Ronni's out there shopping?" she asked, just barely managing to keep the pleasant expression on her face.

"No, she's job hunting. She doesn't make that much at the sheriff's station, and she needs to get part time work."

"Well, I hope she finds something. Tell her I wish her luck."

"That's nice of you, Hannah." Mike gave her a warm smile. "I'll tell her."

Hannah was grateful that Mike couldn't read her mind and know that the real reason she hoped Ronni would find work was so that she'd spend less time at the apartment complex with Mike. But some things were better left unsaid, and Hannah turned to Norman. "How about you? Would you like to watch a movie with me?"

"I'd love to, but I can't. I promised Mother I'd meet them at Granny's Attic and check their Internet connection. Your mother tried to get online this afternoon, and she kept getting error messages. It's probably just a loose connection or a reset problem, but they want to keep up with the bids on the Honus Wagner card."

"You can't blame them for that!" Mike said, grinning at Norman. "It's hard to believe that a little piece of cardboard with a picture on it could go for that much."

They arrived at her cookie truck, and Norman reached out to touch Hannah's shoulder. "See you for coffee tomorrow, Hannah."

"Me, too," Mike said, reaching out to pat her other shoulder. "Bake some more of those Black Forest Brownies, okay? They're the best brownies I ever ate."

And with that the two men in her life walked away toward their respective vehicles. No kisses. No hugs. Nothing but pats on her shoulder.

"Rejected," Hannah said, sighing theatrically as she climbed into her cookie truck. It was an attempt to make light of it, but if she were to be entirely truthful, she did feel a bit abandoned.

She started the engine and gave a little wave as she pa.s.sed Norman and Mike. Then she drove down the gravel side road that wound through the stand of trees, and turned onto the access road toward the highway.

She zipped along at good speed. There was no traffic to speak of. When she turned on Old Lake Road, it was also deserted, and she was just turning in at her complex when the cell phone in her purse rang. Her first instinct was to ignore it, but it rang again, and then again. Hannah stopped at the gate and pulled out her cell phone. It could be some sort of emergency. Not that many people had her cell phone number.

"h.e.l.lo," she said, hoping it wasn't a random sales call.

"Hannah. I'm so glad I caught you! I tried your condo, but I got your answer machine."

For a moment that lasted no longer than a heartbeat, Hannah was puzzled by the ident.i.ty of her caller. Then she recognized his voice, and a smile spread over her face. "Hi, Ross," she said. "Are you in California?"

"No, I'm in Minneapolis."

"That's wonderful! Are you coming to Lake Eden?"

"I'd love to, but I can't. I'm only here for eight and a half hours. I was flying to New York and we had to land here, some kind of mechanical problems. They're transferring us to another flight, but it won't leave here until four-thirty in the morning."

"So you're stuck at the airport until four-thirty?"

"Not the airport. Since the delay is longer than eight hours, they put us up at the Airport Hilton. Do you know where that is?"

"Sure," Hannah said, her smile growing wider.

"How about driving down? I haven't seen you in a long time, Hannah. And I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too," Hannah said.

"So how long do you think it'll take you to get here?"

Hannah did some fast calculations, taking into account the light Sunday night traffic and the fact that she'd just filled her gas tank. "Forty-five minutes," she told him.

"Great! There's an all-night diner across the street at the end of the block. I'll get a table and meet you there. I'm hungry, and all I've had is airplane food."

"I'll be there," she said. "'Bye, Ross."

She clicked off the phone and tossed it back in her purse. And then she did something she'd never done before. She slid her gate card into the slot, drove in when the wooden arm rose to admit her, did a sharp U-turn over the flowerbed that acted as a center divider, and drove right back out again.

"Not rejected after all," she said, grinning as she stepped on the gas and headed for the highway.

BLACK FOREST BROWNIES.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

4 one-ounce squares semi-sweet chocolate (or the equivalent- cup semi-sweet chocolate chips will do just fine.) cup b.u.t.ter (one and a half sticks) 1 cups white (granulated) sugar 3 beaten eggs (just whip them up in a gla.s.s with a fork) 1 teaspoon vanilla extract (or cherry extract) 1 cup flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it) cup pecans cup chopped dried cherries (or cup well-drained Maraschino Cherries finely chopped)*