Carrot Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #10)(6)

“Only partially, dear. And that reminds me…we’re thinking about serving high tea as a fundraiser. Do you think you could help us with the pastries?”

“Sure. Have you set a date?”

“Not yet, but it won’t be before Christmas. I’ll do more research on exactly what they served and how it was presented. Perhaps, if they had scones in Regency times, Sally could make some of hers.”

It was clearly going to be a long conversation. Hannah stretched out the phone cord, put a frying pan with butter on the burner, and turned on the heat. “I didn’t know Sally made scones.”

“Today was her first batch. She served them to us at brunch, and they were delicious.”

“You went out to the Lake Eden Inn for brunch?” Hannah tipped the pan so the butter would melt faster.

“Yes, with all the relatives who arrived early for the reunion. Carrie and I were standing there talking to Marge after you left the church, and Gus practically had to invite us.”

“Gus York? Or Marge’s brother, Gus?”

“Marge’s brother. He asked Marge to recommend a good place for brunch, and then he invited us all.”

“That was nice of him.”

Delores gave a little snort that Hannah could hear clearly over the receiver. “It was the least he could do. He practically broke Marge’s heart when he left town in the middle of the night. And Marge’s mother and father never stopped hoping that he’d come home. He was the youngest, you know.”

“Why did he leave in the first place?” Hannah asked, holding the phone between her neck and her shoulder and cranking her head to the side so it wouldn’t fall as she got her plate of uncooked salmon cakes and carried them over to the stovetop. She dropped them into the frying pan and stood back slightly to avoid being splattered by the sizzling butter.

“No one knows why he left, dear.” Delores stopped speaking for a moment, and then she asked, “What’s that noise?”

“What noise?”

“It’s a frying noise. I’m on my cell phone, and it must need recharging. Anyway…the real reason I called is to ask you if you have any crackers.”

Hannah glanced at the pantry. The door was ajar, and she could see a large package of assorted crackers sitting on the shelf. “I’ve got some.”

“Good. Lisa needs you to bring them. Mike made his Lazy Day Paté for the potluck tonight, but he doesn’t get off work until six and he won’t have time to run back into town for crackers.”

“Consider it done. Anything else anyone needs?” Hannah flipped a Salmon Cake and it sputtered as it landed on its uncooked side.

“Just your Special Carrot Cake. Lisa and Herb were raving about it at the brunch, and everybody’s looking forward to trying it.”

“That’s good to hear,” Hannah said, flipping the other three Salmon Cakes.

“I’ll see you there, dear. I’ve got to go now. That frying noise is getting louder, and I just know we’ll get cut off.”

Hannah said goodbye and rubbed her sore neck as she walked over to hang up the phone. She supposed she should have admitted that her stove was the source of the frying noise her mother thought was a waning battery, but her lunch was almost ready. Since it was past two in the afternoon and she still had to assemble several veggie and dip platters, there wasn’t a lot of time to waste. She had just dished up her first helping and was placing it on the coffee table in the living room when her doorbell rang.

Hannah muttered a few choice words she never would have used around either of her nieces. Whoever it was had lousy timing. Then she picked up her plate (she knew better than to leave one of Moishe’s favorite entrees within kitty reach) and carried it to the door. “Who is it?” she asked, rather than squint through the peephole.

“Mike. I need you, Hannah.”

Those four little words were definitely the key to Hannah’s heart. She couldn’t resist a plea for help, even from the ugliest, meanest person in Lake Eden. And Mike Kingston was about as far from that description as you could get. He was ruggedly handsome, a tall Viking-type of a man, and although he was tough and fit and could pulverize an opponent in a fight, she was fairly sure there wasn’t a mean bone in his body. “Come in,” she invited, unlocking the door and holding it open for him.

“Thanks, Hannah. I had to run out here to talk to your downstairs neighbor, and I thought I’d drop by to pick up those crackers, if you’ve got them.”

“I do. But Sue and Phil aren’t in any trouble, are they?”

“Not at all. Phil witnessed an accident on the freeway when he was coming home from his night shaft at DelRay Manufacturing. I just took his statement.” Mike glanced down at the plate in her hand and his eyes widened. “That looks good! What is it?”

“Salmon Cakes, hot off the stove…or the cell phone, in Mother’s case.”

“Huh?”

“I was talking to her when I was frying them and she thought…never mind. It’s not important. Sit down and eat. I’ve got plenty for two.”

There was a yowl from the feline who was watching Mike with half-narrowed eyes, and Hannah turned to reassure him. “That’s two and a cat. I have enough for us, and for Moishe.”

“You heard her. Relax, Big Guy.” Mike gave Moishe a scratch under his chin as he sat down on the couch. Then he cut off a tiny piece of the Salmon Cake and held it out on the palm of his hand. “Here you go. This should tide you over until you get yours.”