Devil's Food Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #14)(12)

The mystery was solved. That must be what had happened. Hannah couldn’t think of any other explanation. She set Moishe’s food bowl on the floor, watched as he eagerly buried his face in its contents, and carried her socks to the bedroom to put them away in the proper place.

Exactly one hour and thirty minutes later, Hannah was sitting in a booth at the Lake Eden Inn, dining on Sally Laugh-lin’s excellent apricot glazed Cornish game hen, butterflied and served on a bed of pork sausage, wild rice, button mushrooms, and lightly sautéed baby snow peas. Mike, her dinner companion, was eagerly devouring lamb shank with an array of perfectly cooked spring vegetables.

When they’d finished their last bite of food, Sally came up to their booth. She was wearing one of her unique chef’s aprons in a winter country print that was sprinkled with snowmen, pine trees, red barns with snow on their roofs, and old-fashioned wooden sleds. There was a rectangle of red material sewn to the bib with the words LAKE EDEN INN embroidered in white. Sally had recently hired another chef who was working behind the glass window that separated the kitchen from the dining room, and he was wearing an apron that matched Sally’s. The sous-chefs on the line were dressed in solid green aprons to match the pine trees in the print, and the colorful display turned the preparation of food into dining entertainment.

“How was the game hen?” Sally asked Hannah.

“It was so wonderful it made me glad I’m an omnivore.”

Sally laughed and turned to Mike. “And you enjoyed the lamb shank?”

“Delicious.” Mike pointed down at his empty plate. “That sauce was just great. I didn’t want to leave anything, so I mopped it up with a couple of your rolls.”

“Good for you! I think the sauce is the best part. And you’re right, that plate is so clean I could almost put it back in the cupboard and use it again.” Sally noticed Mike’s expression and reached out to pat his shoulder. “Of course I wouldn’t. I’m just teasing.”

“Better be careful who you say that to. We got word that the health board hired another inspector and they’re going to be coming around again. Those guys have no sense of humor.”

“True. Well, I guess I’d better get back to the kitchen before …”

“Wait just a second,” Mike stopped her. “Do you have another minute? I’d like to show you a couple of pictures.”

Sally slid into the booth next to Hannah. “I take it they aren’t pictures of your nieces and nephews?”

“No. It’s police business.” Mike opened his briefcase, which sat beside him in the booth, and pulled out a file folder. He extricated a sheaf of photos and handed them to Sally. “These are from the Minneapolis P.D. Look through them and if you spot anyone wearing any jewelry that looks like this, call me immediately.”

“Stolen?” Sally asked, paging through the photos.

“Yes, and someone was killed in the process. That means I want you to be careful if you spot anything. Don’t ask questions and don’t let on you noticed. Just call me and we’ll be out here right away.”

“Got it.” Sally rose to her feet, but she held on to the photos. “Do you mind if I show these to my waitresses? They’re out here on the floor more than I am.”

“I was hoping you’d do that while Hannah and I have dessert.”

When Sally had left, Hannah turned to Mike. “Do you really think the jewelry will show up out here?”

“Not really, but anything’s possible. The burglars got some cash, too. It was in a drawer in her dressing table, and it was enough to stay out here at the inn until they can make arrangements to turn the jewelry into cash. I don’t really think they’d come to a small place like this, but I’ve got to cover the bases.”

“Then you’d better show those photos to the jeweler out in the mall. He buys antique jewelry and resells it.”

“I was planning to stop there after dinner if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Hannah said. She didn’t get out to the mall very much, and Andrea had mentioned a new cheese shop that had opened last week, and raved about the aged mozzarella she’d sampled.

Their waitress appeared a moment later, bearing two dessert bowls topped with whipped cream and chocolate curls. “This is Sally’s latest creation,” she explained, “and it’s on the house.”

“What is it?” Mike asked, not waiting for an answer before he spooned up a mouthful and tasted it.

“Mocha Trifle. Sally got the recipe from her friend Linda Sifuentes. She owns a bed and breakfast in Illinois. This is her original recipe.”

“Yum!” Hannah said, sparing no extra words in order to save her time for eating. The strong heady taste of the coffee complemented the smooth dark chocolate perfectly. The texture was nice with soft, moist cake and crunchy pecans, and the semi-sweet chocolate curls were a wonderful foil for the sweetness of the whipped cream.

“Sally says Linda calls it Death by Caffeine because you can’t stop eating it. And it only takes fifteen minutes to make if you buy the cake. Of course Sally doesn’t. She always makes her own sponge cake.” The waitress reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a printed recipe. “Here,” she said, handing it to Hannah. “Sally said you’d want it.”