Key Lime Pie Murder. Joanne Fluke
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“That must be a big job, with all those cowboys and animals. I hope he’s well-paid for…” Delores stopped suddenly and looked uncomfortable. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have broached such a personal subject.”
“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” Ruby turned to Hannah, who was staring at the two of them in absolute amazement. She’d never known her mother to be so friendly with an absolute stranger before. “You’d better get a move on,” Ruby said to her. “You’ve got that contest to judge.”
“Right. I’ll see you later, Mother.”
“Fine, dear.” Delores dismissed her with a wave and then she turned back to Ruby. “So tell me about life on the road. I’ve never traveled anywhere to speak of. Do you find that all these little towns look alike after a while?”
“If I have to taste another coffeecake, I’m going to die!” Willa declared, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her stomach.
Pam laughed. “I know what you mean. There were ten of them. But you’re in luck now. The next six entries are sweet rolls.”
“Tell me they’re not all cinnamon,” Hannah said, taking a swig of the bottled water that had been provided as a palate cleanser.
Pam looked down at the listing of entries and gave Hannah a thumbs-up. “There’s only one, and we’ll test it after the orange rolls. That should give your taste buds a break.”
“My taste buds thank you,” Hannah said, meaning every word of it. They’d only gone through three-quarters of the sweet-bread entries, and she was firmly convinced that cinnamon was the most overused spice of them all.
“Moroccan Delight,” Pam declared, cutting small wedge-shaped pieces of the sweet roll on her plate. “According to the recipe, the predominant flavors are supposed to be coconut, honey, ground walnuts, and dates.”
Hannah gasped as she bit into the incredibly sweet concoction. “This is sugar overload.”
“You’re right.” Willa made a face. “It’s almost as sweet as the chocolate baklava I had in California.”
Both Pam and Hannah turned to look her, but Pam was the first to speak. “I didn’t know you went to California.”
“It was a long time ago, when I thought I could get along anywhere,” Willa said. And then she gave a rueful laugh. “I was wrong. I found out I never should have left Minnesota.”
Pam looked a bit confused. “I didn’t know you left Minnesota.”
“Well, I did.” The color came up on Willa’s cheeks, and Hannah knew she was uncomfortable. “It was a big mistake. You probably noticed that I dropped out of school for a little over a year.”
“I saw that in your transcripts,” Pam said.
“It took me that long to realize that I wasn’t going to get anywhere unless I finished school. But when I enrolled at Tri-County College, I found out that a lot of my credits didn’t transfer. I had to start my major all over again.” Willa stopped to smile at Pam. “And you hired me as a teacher’s aide so that I could finish and get my degree.”
“How long do you have to go?” Hannah asked, hoping that Willa would make it.
“Only one more semester. All I have to do is student teach for Pam until Christmas and I’ve got it!”
“You’ll make it,” Pam said, turning around to face the long table where the remaining entries were lined up to be judged. “Only one left. After that we’ll tally up the scores and declare a winner. And then we can all pick out a couple of our favorites and take them home.”
Hannah was surprised at this news. “I didn’t know we got to take anything home!”
“Well, we do. That’s why the contestants are required to use disposable pans. We get to take what we want, and we leave the rest for the cleaning crew. It’s one of the perks they get for cleaning this building.”
“I’ll bet they never have any trouble finding people to clean up,” Hannah commented.
“Probably not.” Pam picked up the last entry and set it in front of them. As with all the other entries, there was a card giving the name of the recipe, but the contestant’s name had been concealed with removable tape. A number was written on the front of the tape, and the scorecards were numbered accordingly. “This is chocolate cherry coffeecake,” Pam said, reading the card. “The contestant describes it as, Bite-sized morsels of chocolate and cherry in a tender buttery sweet dough. Drizzled with melted dark chocolate and cherry icing, it’s the perfect accompaniment to a strong cup of coffee.”
Hannah’s mouth started to water. “Sounds yummy!”
“Chocolate and cherry is a traditional combination,” Willa stated the obvious. “What kind of cherries did she use?”
Pam flipped the card to read the list of ingredients on the back. “Dark cherry pie filling. She rolled out the sweet dough and spread out the cherry pie filling. Then she sprinkled on the chocolate chips, and folded the dough over the top.”
“How about the cherry frosting?” Hannah wanted to know. “Did she use part of the cherry pie filling for that?”
“No. It says that she used cherry liqueur and a drop of red food coloring.”
Hannah watched as Pam cut bite-sized pieces for all three of them. She wasn’t that wild about using food coloring, but she had to admit that the combination of drizzled chocolate and pink cherry icing was pretty.
“Any more questions?” Pam asked after they’d tasted their sample. When Hannah and Willa shook their heads, she passed them the numbered scorecards. “Let’s mark our scores and go on.”
Hannah had just turned in her scorecard when she had a thought. Delores loved the combination of chocolate and cherries, and Pam had said they could take some of the baked goods home. “If nobody else wants it, I’ll take the rest of that chocolate cherry coffeecake.”
“Fine by me,” Pam said.
“You got it, Hannah,” Willa agreed. “I’m taking the rest of the raised cinnamon doughnuts. I thought they were great.”
Hannah didn’t comment. She hadn’t given the doughnuts a high mark. She’d thought they were a bit greasy, and the contestant had used too much cinnamon for her taste. “What are you taking, Pam?”
“The sticky buns. They’re George’s favorites. And I think I’ll take one of the apple coffeecakes, too. George’s sister loves apple coffeecake. I’ll just pop it in the freezer and take it with me the next time we visit.”
The next few minutes were spent tallying scores. Hannah read them off, Willa punched them into the calculator that had been provided for them, and Pam marked them down on the master score sheet. They were nearing the end when Pam gave a little gasp.
“Good heavens!” she exclaimed, staring at the master score sheet as if it couldn’t possibly be right. “Mrs. Adamczak only got an honorable mention?”
Hannah was every bit as shocked as Pam looked. “You’ve got to be kidding! She’s never come in lower than second place!”
“And that was right after she had her hip replacement and she couldn’t stand for more than five minutes at a time,” Pam said with a frown. “There’s got to be some mistake.”
“Which entry was hers?” Willa asked.
Hannah glanced down at the master sheet. “Number thirty-two, the cinnamon raisin bread. It was the only one entered. Nobody wants to put their cinnamon raison bread up against Mrs. Adamczak’s.”
“Are you sure you tallied her score right?” Pam asked Willa. “I didn’t think Mrs. Adamczak’s bread was quite as good as last year, but I still gave her nines across the board.”