Part 14 (1/2)
Hannah was so pleased by Andrea's question, she almost forgot to answer. Were her years of correcting her sister's grammar finally paying off? Or had Andrea merely forgotten to add the final, unnecessary at? ”It's in the library at the community center. Marge Beeseman is holding her monthly Friends of the Library meeting.”
”I'll help you with that. Tracey needs a new book and I have to stop by the library anyway. She didn't like the last one Bill read to her out of.”
Cinnamon Crisps Preheat oven to 325 degrees F., with rack in middle position.
2 cups melted b.u.t.ter (4 sticks) 2 cups brown sugar (loosely packed) 1 cup white sugar (granulated) 2 beaten eggs (just whip them up with a fork) 2 teaspoons vanilla 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon cream of tartar (critical!) 1 teaspoon salt 4 !/4 cups white flour (not sifted) Dough-ball rolling mixture: !/2 cup white sugar 1 teaspoon cinnamon Melt the b.u.t.ter. Add the sugars and mix. Let the mixture cool to room temperature while you beat the eggs, and then stir them in. Add the vanilla, cinnamon, baking soda, cream of tartar, and salt. Mix well. Add flour in increments, mixing after each addition.
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Use your hands to roll the dough into walnut-sized b.a.l.l.s. (If dough is too sticky, chill for an hour before rolling.) Combine the sugar and cinnamon in a small bowl to make the dough-ball rolling mixture. (Mixing it with a fork works nicely.) Roll the dough b.a.l.l.s in the mixture, then place them on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a standard sheet. Flatten the dough b.a.l.l.s with a greased or floured spatula.
Bake at 325 degrees F. for 10-15 minutes. (They should have a touch of gold around the edges.) Cool on the cookie sheet for 2 minutes, then remove the cookies to a rack to finish cooling.
Yield: Approximately 8 dozen, depending on cookie size.
(Lisa loves these cookies-it's the only time I've seen her eat a half-dozen of anything at one sitting.) 126.
Chapter Eleven.
I didn't expect you this soon, Andrea.” Claire looked sur- JLprised as she opened the door of her dress shop and let them into the back room. The s.p.a.ce wasn't very deep, only about six feet, but it ran the entire width of the building and was crowded with racks of clothing, una.s.sembled Beau Monde dress boxes, Claire's small desk, and her ever-present ironing board and sewing machine. ”I just left a message for you at home and it couldn't have been more than ten minutes ago. How did you get here so fast?”
”I was already next door. I retrieved your message from my cell phone, and since Hannah wanted to come over here anyway, I tagged along. I know you're not open yet. If I'm too early, I can always come back later.”
”You're not too early. I'm just glad I pressed your maternity outfits first.” Claire ran a hand over her sleek hair and looked slightly embarra.s.sed. ”I've been unpacking my new s.h.i.+pment and I planned to change my clothes before I opened.”
Hannah let her sister say all the right things to ease Claire's embarra.s.sment. She didn't think it was possible for Claire to look rumpled, even in the slacks and casual cotton blouse she was wearing. Andrea and Claire were two of a 128.
kind, the type of women who could wear gunnysacks with house slippers and still generate admiring glances.
”I love this color,” Andrea said, reaching out to touch a lavender silk suit hanging on the rack of clothing that Claire had indicated. ”Do you think it's too Easter-ish?”
Hannah set her bag of cookies by the coffeepot and tuned out as Claire and Andrea began to discuss colors and their a.s.sociation with various holidays and seasons. Fas.h.i.+on wasn't one of her interests. Instead, she mentally reviewed the questions she wanted to ask. Of course she'd find out about the pies, but Claire might have some other useful information. As Andrea was fond of saying, everybody who was anybody in Lake Eden bought designer clothes at Beau Monde. While the stores at the Tri-County Mall might be less expensive, Claire provided the personal touch that pampered women everywhere craved. Her customers often arrived in pairs and while they were trying on clothes, they gossiped. It was possible that Claire might have overheard something about Rhonda's private life.
”How about this, Hannah?” Andrea asked, holding up a maternity top.
”You're asking me a fas.h.i.+on question?” Hannah laughed.
”Second thought, I'll just try it on.” Andrea exchanged a grin with her sister and then she turned to Claire. ”If you don't mind, I'll try all of them on.”
”I don't mind at all”
Claire gathered the hangers and led Andrea toward the dressing rooms, leaving Hannah to fend for herself. It wasn't for long. Claire was back before Hannah even had time to walk over to the racks to look at the new s.h.i.+pment.
”Your sister's all set,” Claire said, heading toward the small coffee machine she kept next to the sink. ”I just put on a fresh pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?”
”Sure,” Hannah said, even though Claire's coffee was nothing to write home about. Conversation over coffee tended to be candid and invited confidences. ”I brought you a half-dozen cookies.”
LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 129.
”Thanks, Hannah. What kind are they?”
”Chocolate Chip Crunch.”
”Oh, good. I could use a pick-me-up. I've been pressing out wrinkles since eight. Take my desk chair and I'll get the coffee. How about one of your own cookies?”
”No, thanks.”
Claire poured two cups of coffee while Hannah sat down. She carried one to the desk, set it neatly on a coaster, and then perched on a stool with her coffee in one hand and a cookie in the other. ”You've lost weight.”
”Do you think so?” Hannah felt a swell of pride. Claire studied everyone's appearance. If she thought Hannah had lost weight, it was probably true.
”I make it my business to notice things like that. If one of my ladies comes in and she's gained weight, I need to subst.i.tute a larger size without commenting on it.”
”And you can tell that by just looking at her?”
”Of course. I have a very discerning eye.”
Hannah was thoughtful. Claire's discerning eye might provide a way for her to avoid the dreaded scale. ”Can you tell me how much weight I've lost?”
”I'd say about three pounds. Your face is thinner and I think you dropped a bit from your upper arms.”
”Wonderful,” Hannah said, disappointment setting in. She wasn't trying to lose weight on her face or her upper arms. It was her waist and her hips that concerned her.
”Andrea said you wanted to ask me something?”
”I do.” Hannah relegated weight-loss thoughts to the back corner of her mind. ”Lisa said you bought three lemon pies last Friday. I was wondering if Rhonda ended up with one of them.”
Claire's eyes widened in surprise. ”That's right! How did you know that?”
”Just a lucky guess.”
”Are you working on Rhonda's murder investigation?”
”Yes. And I already told Mike, so it's no secret this time. Do you know anything personal about Rhonda that might have given someone a motive to kill her?”
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Claire sipped her coffee and thought for a moment. ”I don't think so, but I did hear some rumors last year. Someone said that Rhonda had a boyfriend, but no one seemed to know anything about him.”
”I've heard that. Any guesses?”
Claire shook her head. ”No name was ever mentioned.”
”Anything else about Rhonda's personal life?”
Claire thought for a moment and then she shrugged. ”Not much. Most of my customers seemed to think that Rhonda was a little silly, wearing all that makeup, and dressing young, and flirting with every man who walked up to her cosmetic counter to buy perfume for his wife. But no one took it seriously and I don't think anyone ever harbored her any ill will.”