Fudge Cupcake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #5)(17)

"Here's something," Hannah said, earning a relieved sigh from Andrea, "and there's no way Bill can object. Tell him I'm picking you up right after dinner and we're going to pay a condolence call on Nettie Grant."

"Are we going to console? Or sleuth?"

"A little of both."

"Good! I'll be ready, Hannah. Just pull in the driveway and honk the horn. I'll come right out."



The curtains were open and Hannah glanced in at Andrea's living room as she pulled into the driveway. Things weren't all coming up roses at the Todd household. The couch Bill's parents had given them for a wedding present was no longer up against the far wall and the big-screen television had been moved. It seemed that in addition to arming himself with mop and vacuum, Bill had repositioned the living room furniture. Hannah still remembered the diagrams Andrea had shown her of the living room and how she'd agonized over exactly where to place each piece of carefully chosen furniture. No wonder her sister had exhibited such an urgent desire to leave home!

Hannah gave a polite beep on the horn and Andrea came rushing out. She pulled open the door, jumped in the truck, and banged it shut again. "Let's go. Quick. Before Bill tries to give me a warmer coat or tells me I forgot my gloves or something."

"That bad?" Hannah put the truck into gear and backed toward the street.

"Even worse. I sneezed during dinner and he was sure I was getting the world's worst cold."

"Are you?"

"No. I just got a piece of dust up my nose, that's all."

"So, how was dinner?" Hannah reached the end of the driveway, backed out, and then drove forward down the street.

"Gruesome. The vegetables were still crunchy and Bill didn't bother to pare the carrots or peel the potatoes before he put them in. He's really an awful cook, Hannah."

Hannah bit her tongue and didn't say a word about the pot calling the kettle black.

"Your trick with the apron worked fine, though. And that reminds me… stop at the first dog you see."

"What?"

"Just stop when you see a dog. I've got all that deer meat in my coat pocket and I'll give it to him."

"Okay, but I thought you were going to throw it away."

"I was until I remembered that Bill takes out the garbage. If he saw it, it would hurt his feelings."

Hannah glanced at Andrea, but her sister wasn't being sarcastic. Andrea really did seem to be worried about hurting Bill's feelings. Maybe that's what marriage was, a lot of give and take. This time Andrea was on the giving side, but next time she could be the one who was taking. "I admire you, Andrea. If someone came into The Cookie Jar while I was gone and rearranged all the tables and chairs without asking me, I'd slap him silly."

"I'd never do that," Andrea said with a smile. "I just keep telling myself that the minute Bill goes back to work, I can break a couple legs off that hideous couch his parents gave us and say he must have cracked them when he moved it. And then I can go out furniture shopping and replace it with something I like."



Twenty minutes later, after stopping to make Gil and Bonnie Surma's German shepherd extremely happy, Hannah pulled up in front of Nettie's duplex and cut the lights. "Grab that bag of Cashew Crisps in back of your seat, will you?"

"Sure." Andrea reached back to get the cookies. "Are you taking them to Nettie?"

"I'd feel strange coming here without bringing something."

"I feel strange coming here period. I really shouldn't be paying a condolence call, not when Bill's a suspect in her husband's murder."

"Nonsense." Hannah grabbed Andrea's hand and pulled her forward. "Nettie knows that Bill's no killer. Besides, she's all alone and she could probably use some company."

"How do you know that?"

Hannah gestured behind her. "No cars on the street. They were probably double-parked here this afternoon."

"What if Nettie's tired and wants to rest?"

"Then we'll make our excuses and leave. But I'm willing to bet she'll be happy to see us, especially since you didn't eat much for dinner and neither did I."

Andrea turned to look at her sister in consternation. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You can bet every one of Nettie's friends has been here with food today. Her refrigerator is probably packed and she'll be glad to see two people with appetites."

"You could be right. People always bring their best dishes when there's a death in the family. They did when Dad died."

"I remember. The sheer number of casseroles, Jell-O molds, and cakes was staggering. It would have been just like a big potluck dinner if anyone had cracked a smile."



Cashew Crisps



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

1 l/2 cups melted butter (3 sticks)

2 cups white sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla

1/8 cup molasses (2 Tablespoons)

1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 l/2 cups finely ground salted cashews (grind them up in your food processor with the steel blade-measure AFTER grinding)