Raspberry Danish Murder (Hannah Swensen #22)(6)

Lisa’s Note: I was in a hurry one day and I used seedless raspberry jam instead of making the sauce. I took off the lid and heated it a little in the microwave, just enough so that I could spread it on top of the cream cheese filling. Since pineapple is Herb’s favorite fruit, I’m going to try it with pineapple jam next, if Florence can order it at the Red Owl. I’m pretty sure that Smucker’s makes it.





Chapter Two


It was ten minutes past eleven when Hannah took the last pan of Cherry Chocolate Bar Cookies out of the oven. She’d just slipped the cookie sheet onto the bakers rack when there was a knock at the back kitchen door. The first knock was followed by two more slightly louder knocks in quick succession.

“Mother?” Michelle asked.

“Mother,” Hannah agreed. “You’re getting better at recognizing knocks, Michelle. I’ll pour the coffee and cut a pan of bar cookies. You can answer the door and let Mother in.”

“Any news?” Delores called out to Hannah as she hung her coat on a hook by the door and headed for her favorite stool at the work station.

“Not a word,” Hannah replied, knowing exactly what Delores meant. She wanted to know if Hannah had heard from Ross. She asked the same question every time she came in the door at The Cookie Jar or called Hannah on the phone.

“Thank you, dear,” Delores said as Michelle served her coffee. Then she noticed what Hannah was doing and asked, “What are you cutting, Hannah? Whatever it is, it smells like chocolate and . . . cherries?”

Michelle began to laugh. “You have a great nose, Mother. We just finished baking six batches of Cherry Chocolate Bar Cookies.”

“Thank you, dear. No one’s ever called my nose great before.” She turned to Hannah again. “If those chocolate cherry creations of yours are cool enough to cut, does that make them cool enough to sample?”

“Of course.” Hannah finished transferring the bars she’d cut to a serving plate and carried them to the stainless steel work island. “Here you go, Mother. Tell us if you like them.”

Delores picked up one of the bar cookies, took a bite, and began to smile. “Heavenly! Ten stars out of ten, dear.”

“Thanks, Mother,” Hannah said, taking the stool across from her mother. She noticed that Delores was wearing full makeup and one of the designer suits she’d purchased from Claire Rodgers Knudson at Beau Monde Fashions. Her dark hair was stylishly arranged, and the ruby ring on her finger mirrored the color of her suit. Although Delores always looked fashionable, today she was dressed to the teeth. This caused Hannah to assume that her mother was going somewhere important.

“Are you headed for somewhere special, Mother?” Michelle asked, just as if she were reading Hannah’s mind.

“Yes. I have a meeting with the Rainbow Ladies at the hospital.” Delores named the group of volunteers she’d founded over a year ago.

“Is it a special occasion?” Hannah asked. Usually, when Delores met with the Rainbow Ladies, she wore black slacks and one of the brightly colored jackets the ladies wore to set them apart from the rest of the hospital staff.

“Yes, but it has nothing to do with the Rainbow Ladies. I’m spending the afternoon with Doc at the hospital and then we’re going out to dinner. It’s our anniversary.”

Hannah and Michelle exchanged puzzled glances, and Hannah was the first to speak. “But, Mother . . . this is November and you got married in September. Are you celebrating an anniversary every month?”

“What a lovely thought!” Delores smiled at her eldest daughter. “But no, dear. This is a real anniversary. Doc first asked me to marry him in November.”

“And you married him nine months later?” Michelle asked.

“No, dear. We got married almost two years later. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get married again, but Doc convinced me.”

“And you’re glad he did,” Hannah stated the obvious.

“I certainly am!” Delores reached out for another bar cookie. “Sally’s making a special anniversary dinner for us tonight at the Lake Eden Inn. We’re having duck with cranberry sauce and a chocolate soufflé for dessert. That’s what we had the night that Doc first proposed to me.”

Michelle looked confused. “But . . . I thought you didn’t like duck.”

“I don’t, but Doc does and it’s a tradition. We have it every year on the anniversary of the night he proposed to me.”

“And you eat it?” Michelle followed up on her former question.

“Of course. That first night, I was so shocked at Doc’s proposal, I ate everything on my plate without even tasting it. And now that we do this every year, I think I might actually learn to like it.”

Hannah couldn’t help bursting into laughter and neither could Michelle. Delores stared at them in confusion for a moment, and then she joined in the laughter. They were still laughing when there was a knock on the back door.

“I’ll get it,” Michelle said as she got up to answer it. A moment later, she ushered her friend P.K. into the kitchen and gestured to a stool next to Delores at the work station.

“Hello, P.K.,” Delores greeted Ross’s assistant at KCOW Television. “I was going to call you this morning to thank you for calling Hannah every day to let her know if Ross had called you. And thank you, too, for doing those commercials for Michelle’s plays.”