Cream Puff Murder (Hannah Swensen, #11)(72)

“Hi, guys!” Michelle called out, stepping inside the den. “I’m done with my six hours.”

“Me, too.” Andrea was right behind her. “We don’t have to watch more, do we?”

Norman shook his head. “Not if you’re as bored as we are.”

“I’d rather watch my fingernails grow. It’s a lot more interesting.” Michelle walked over to one of the chairs next to the couch and plopped down. “I conferred with Andrea, and we agree that we have nothing, absolutely nothing, to report.”

Andrea nodded as she took the other chair. “If we’d gotten the tapes from Mike, I’d think this was a runaround. But we didn’t. There’s just nothing but empty exercise rooms on the tapes we watched.”

“Same thing with our tapes,” Hannah said, giving a little shrug. “The most exciting thing we saw was a spider making a web on the water cooler.”

“At least you had a spider,” Michelle said. “Maybe the other tapes are more interesting, but we just can’t watch any more.”

“Hannah was a little concerned about your mother,” Norman told them, ignoring the sharp look that Hannah gave him. “What do you think? Will she be okay in a bar with out-of-state salesmen and business executives?”

“I don’t know.” Andrea gave him a hard look. “Will Carrie be okay with out-of-state salesmen and business executives?”

“I’ll drive,” Norman said.

There was a moment of silence while the three sisters exchanged glances, and then Hannah spoke. “We’ll ride with you,” she said.

“Good,” Norman said, heading for the closet to get their coats. “I printed out directions this morning, just in case. Let’s go see how the mothers are doing.”





BONNIE BROWNIE COOKIE BARS

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



4 one-ounce squares semi-sweet chocolate (or 3/4 cup chocolate chips)

3/4 cup butter (one and a half sticks)

1? cups white (granulated) sugar 3 beaten eggs (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)

1/2 cup chopped cashews

1/2 cup chopped butterscotch chips

1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips (I used Ghirardelli)



Prepare a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan by lining it with a piece of foil large enough to flap over the sides. Spray the foil-lined pan with Pam or another nonstick cooking spray.



Microwave the chocolate squares and butter in a microwave-safe mixing bowl on HIGH for 1 minute. Stir. (Since chocolate frequently maintains its shape even when melted, you have to stir to make sure.) If it’s not melted, microwave for an additional 20 seconds and stir again. Repeat if necessary.



Stir the sugar into the chocolate mixture. Feel the bowl. If it’s not so hot it’ll cook the eggs, add them now, stirring thoroughly. Mix in the vanilla extract.



Mix in the flour, and stir just until it’s moistened.



Put the cashews, butterscotch chips, and chocolate chips in the bowl of a food processor, and chop them together with the steel blade. (If you don’t have a food processor, you don’t have to buy one for this recipe—just chop everything up as well as you can with a sharp knife.)



Mix in the chopped ingredients, give a final stir by hand, and spread the batter out in your prepared pan. Smooth the top with a rubber spatula.



Bake at 350 degrees F. for 30 minutes.



Cool the Bonnie Brownie Cookie Bars in the pan on a metal rack. When they’re thoroughly cool, grasp the edges of the foil and lift the brownies out of the pan. Place them facedown on a cutting board, peel the foil off the back, and cut them into brownie-sized pieces.



Place the squares on a plate and dust lightly with powdered sugar if you wish.



Hannah’s Note: If you’re a chocoholic, or if you’re making these for Mother, frost them with Neverfail Fudge Frosting before you cut them.





Chapter Twenty-Five




If there had been more time between the opening of the outer door and the breaching of the inner door, Hannah might have reconsidered. The music barreled out to greet them, a rendition of “My Way” by a Frank Sinatra wannabe that was just as loud as it was incompetent.

“It must be karaoke night,” Michelle said.

“What?” Hannah moved closer to her youngest sister.

“I said it must be karaoke night,” Michelle shouted, very close to Hannah’s ear.

There was an empty table near the back, as far from the stage as they could get, and Norman led the way. The lighting was dim, and the stage was the only bright spot in the wood-paneled room. Red plastic banquettes lined two walls, and round wooden tables with wooden chairs were scattered throughout the rest of the space.

There was a candle on every table in a green glass holder, but that provided little light, barely enough to read the menu or the list of special drinks in a Plexiglas sleeve that leaned up against it. Except for the spotlights on the stage and the soft lights behind the bar, the room was deep with shadows.

Hannah glanced around, noting the wooden rafters that loomed above them. And that’s when she saw something that made her gasp.