Strawberry Shortcake Murder

previously. There were four cakes, each wrapped in plastic wrap and, covered with a layer of foil. She grabbed a sharp knife and went to the walk-in cooler to cut two thin slices from the test cake. Then she rewrapped it and carried one of the pieces out to Lisa, who was sitting on a stool at the stainless-steel work island.

“I love cake for breakfast. It makes me feel rich.” Lisa took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “It’s wonderful, Hannah. What do you think?”

Hannah tasted her slice and nodded. “It doesn’t get any better than this. Two days is the perfect settling time.”

“It was great fresh, but it’s better now. It’s almost like cheesecake without the cheese.” Hannah was pleased with Lisa’s assessment. The cake for the strawberry shortcake she’d agreed to make on camera tonight was close to perfection. “You’re reacting to the density. This cake gets heavier each day it sits in the cooler.”

“It’s going to be a huge hit with the newscasters.” Lisa finished her slice and stood up. “It’s time, Hannah. Do you want me to open the door?”

“I’ll do it. You can finish decorating the cookies for the Dorcas Circle Christmas party.”

Hannah walked through the swinging door and into her cookie shop. She was still a little nervous about appearing on television tonight, but it had been Mr. Hart’s idea, and everyone in town, Hannah included, wanted to please Mr. Hart. This was the first Hartland Flour bake-off, and they were all hoping that it would become an annual affair.

The bake-off had reawakened Lake Eden from its winter’s sleep. The town’s population, which dwindled when the summer people closed their lake cottages and moved back to the city, had swelled again with the arrival of the bake-off contestants, their families, and the spectators. Sally and Dick Laughlin, the owners of the Lake Eden Inn, had been delighted to open their doors in the off-season, and almost every shop in Lake Eden had experienced an influx of new business. Lake Eden was booming at a time when most residents were struggling to make a living, and Mr. Hart had hired locals for everything from carpentry and plumbing to ushering the audience into the auditorium. The mayor had called Hannah only yesterday and said he hoped that Mr. Hart would make Lake Eden the permanent site of the bake-off.

To advertise the four-day event, Hannah had agreed to act as a live backdrop for KCOW Television’s local news, done on-location at the school auditorium. Mason Kimball, a Lake Eden resident, was KCOW’s producer, and he’d advised Hannah to bake something colorful, like strawberry shortcake. Hannah had taken his suggestion literally and decided to assemble Strawberry Shortcake Swensen on camera tonight. There wasn’t time actually to bake the cake, but Hannah would mix up the batter, pour it into pans, and stick them into a cold oven to be baked after the show by Edna Ferguson, the school cook. Hannah would substitute the cakes she’d already baked, and after she’d presented her strawberry shortcake to the newscasters, a number would be flashed on the screen so that viewers could call the KCOW switchboard for a copy of her recipe. The number of requests would indicate how many people had watched Mason’s broadcast.

Just after she’d flipped the “Closed” sign to “Open,” the phone began to ring. Hannah knew that Lisa would pick it up in the bakery, and she ignored the insistent ringing as she unlocked the door and greeted the line of customers that awaited her.

First in the door were Bill Todd, Hannah’s brother-in-law, and Mike Kingston, his supervisor. Mr. Hart and Mason Kimball were right behind them, and Andrea was next, with Hannah’s niece, four-year-old Tracey. Andrea’s blond hair was pulled back in an intricate knot this morning, and she was dressed in a smart little navy blue suit that must have cost her a week’s salary. She looked as if she’d just stepped out of an ad for women executive fashions, and Hannah felt a small stab of envy that she quickly covered with a warm, welcoming smile. Hannah had never been able to compete with Andrea in the looks department, and she’d stopped trying when they were both in high school. Andrea and Michelle, Hannah’s youngest sister, resembled their mother, who was still a strikingly beautiful woman. Hannah was the only one who’d inherited her father’s gangly height and his frizzy red hair. Luckily, Tracey had received her mother’s beauty genes, and she was a pint-sized version of Andrea, right down to her shining blond hair.

Tracey was Hannah’s first priority, and once she’d gotten her favorite and only niece settled on a stool with milk and cookies, she turned to her other customers. She’d just begun the process of filling their orders when Lisa walked into the coffee shop. Hannah finished serving Mr. Hart, who had ordered a cup of black coffee and two of her Regency Ginger Crisps, and then she stepped over to Lisa. “Is something wrong?”

“I think so.” Lisa lowered her voice so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Norman Rhodes is on the phone, and he says it’s an emergency. I can take over for you here.”

Hannah moved aside so that Lisa could take her place behind the counter and hurried back to the bakery. Norman was levelheaded. He wasn’t the type to use the word “emergency” lightly.

Lisa had left the wall phone off the hook, and Hannah took a deep breath before she picked it up. “Hi, Norman. Lisa said there’s an emergency?”

“Mr. Rutlege came in with an impacted molar, and I’ve got some really bad news.” Norman sounded very worried.

Visions of disaster raced through Hannah’s mind. Norman knew that she’d helped Bill solve two murders already, and she was an old hand at dealing with death. Had Mr. Rutlege died in the dental chair? And who was he? Hannah knew she’d heard the name before, but she couldn’t quite; place it. “Who’s Mr. Rutlege?”

“You must have met him at the Lake Eden Inn last night. He’s tall and thin with silver hair, and he looks a little like Ricardo Montalban.”

Hannah had met dozens of strangers last night. The names were a blur, but she remembered the man that Norman had described. He was one of the out-of-town judges for the bake-off. “What happened to Mr. Rutlege?”

“It started out as a simple extraction. There was no way I could save the tooth. But he had a negative reaction to the anesthetic, and to make things even worse, I discovered that his blood didn’t clot properly.”

Hannah’s fingers tightened on the receiver. “He’s not… dead, is he?”

“Dead?” Norman sounded shocked at the question. “Of course he’s not dead. But Mr. Rutlege can’t judge the bake-off. There’s no way he’ll be eating anything that doesn’t come out of a blender for at least a week.”

STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE SWENSEN

Serves 12 (or 6 if they ask for second helpings)

To make this dessert, you will need: Pound Plus Cake *, three boxes of ripe strawberries, and a bowl of Hannah’s Whipped Creme Fraiche. (Pronounce it “Cremm Fresh” and everybody will think you speak French.)

POUND PLUS CAKE

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

1 1/2 cups softened butter (3 sticks)

2 cups white sugar

4 eggs

1 cup sour cream (you can substitute unflavored yogurt for a lighter cake)

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 cups cake flour (DO NOT SIFT—use it right out of the box)

Generously butter and flour two 9-inch round cake pans. (Don’t use Pam or spray shortening—it won’t work.)

Cream softened butter and sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer. (You can mix this cake by hand, but it takes some muscle). Add the eggs, one at a time, and beat until they’re nice and fluffy. Then add the sour cream, baking powder and vanilla. Mix it all up and then add the flour, one cup at a time, and beat until the batter is smooth and has no lumps.

Pour the batter into the pans and bake at 325 degrees F. for 45 to 50 minutes (The cakes should be golden brown on top.)