Blueberry Muffin Murder. Joanne Fluke
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“Of course I do. The mayor told me how instrumental you’ve been in planning this library. He said it was all your idea and you should take credit for it.” Connie Mac patted Marge’s arm. “And I must admit that I have a selfish reason for wanting you to sit with me, Marge.”
“Really?”
“Most people don’t know this about me, but I’m really a very shy person and I just hate the idea of sitting in the lobby all alone. If you’re with me, you can introduce me to all your friends.”
Marge preened a bit. “I could certainly do that. I know everyone in Lake Eden. I was born and raised here.”
“I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time together,” Connie Mac said, stepping out of the library and into the hallway. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Marge.”
Hannah rolled her eyes as she followed Andrea and Connie Mac down the stairs to the banquet room. The Cooking Sweetheart was a steamroller when it came to getting her way, but she had charm and she knew when to dish it out. After only one dose, Marge Beeseman, one of the most obstinate women in Lake Eden, had caved in like an underbaked cake.
“Edna? We’re here,” Hannah called out as they entered the banquet room in the basement of the community center.
Edna, a thin woman with wiry gray hair that had been permed to death, bustled out of the kitchen. She was wearing a new, sparkling-white apron that Hannah knew was her version of “all dressed up.”
“Hannah, Andrea.” Edna smiled as she greeted them and then she turned to Connie Mac. “I’m real pleased to meet you, Mrs. MacIntyre. Where’s the cake?”
Hannah choked back a laugh. Edna had always been blunt. But it didn’t seem to faze Connie Mac, because she just smiled.
“It’s in my supply van and my driver is bringing it,” she told Edna. “It’s six tiers high, the decorations are white on white, and I worked on it for simply hours last night. Where do you think we should display it?”
“We could set up a card table,” Edna suggested.
Connie Mac considered it for a moment and then she sighed. “I’d rather not do that. Card tables are so unstable.” She pointed to the pedestal in the center of the room. “How about that pedestal? It looks sturdy enough.”
“We can’t use that.” Edna shook her head. “That’s where the crowns for the Prince and Princess of Winter are going to be displayed.”
“But we could put them on that card table you mentioned. The pedestal is just the right size for my cake.”
Edna looked as if she wanted to object, but she didn’t. That made Hannah suspect she’d been warned to be extra nice to their favored celebrity. “I’ll have to ask Mayor Bascomb.”
“I’m sure he’ll agree. After all, my cake is the star of the show, so to speak. I’ll have one of my people rig up a spotlight and it’ll create a wonderful photo op right here in the center of the room. I think we should pose for a picture together, don’t you?”
“Well…I don’t know about that. I’m going to be pretty busy in the kitchen.”
“It’ll only take a few minutes. I’d really like to have a picture of us together, Edna.” Connie Mac paused and looked a bit embarrassed. “You don’t mind if I call you Edna, do you?”
Edna shook her head. “Edna’s fine. That’s what everybody calls me.”
“Good. And I hope you’ll call me Connie Mac. I’d like to be friends since we’ll be working on the banquet together.”
“You want to help me cook for the banquet?”
Connie Mac gave a sweet little laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of interfering, especially since the mayor told me that you’re the best cook in the county. Have you heard about my new kitchen boutique at the Tri-County Mall?”
“’Course I have. Your grand opening’s on Monday. Rod Metcalf ran an article about it in the Lake Eden Journal.”
“I do hope you’ll come out to take a peek, Edna. It’s going to be our largest store, and you have no idea how many new things I’ve ordered! As a matter of fact, I went down to our main warehouse in Minneapolis this morning to see what I could find for you.”
Edna looked surprised. “You brought me something from your boutique?”
“It was the least I could do. After all, you’re organizing the whole banquet. I chose a dinner setting for two hundred, including glassware, linens, silver, and some simply lovely decorations for the tables. It’s a gift from the new Connie Mac’s Kitchen Boutique.”
Edna seemed stunned at this largesse. When she recovered, she gasped, “Well, my goodness! We could use those dishes, that’s for sure. Whenever we throw a big supper like this, Rose over at the café lets us use her plates and silverware. Problem is, we have to schedule it after she closes. And since Rose doesn’t use tablecloths, we have to make do with the paper kind.”
“Those days are over now, Edna. You’ll have your own things.” Connie Mac reached out to give Edna’s arm a friendly pat. “Could we go into the kitchen for a minute? I’d love take a peek at the banquet menu and see if there’s anything else you need from my boutique.”
Andrea waited until Connie Mac had gone into the kitchen with Edna and then she grabbed Hannah’s arm. “Did you hear that? A complete dinner service for two hundred! Isn’t Connie Mac the sweetest, most generous person you’ve ever met?”
Hannah grunted, settling for the most noncommittal reply she could make. She was no accountant, but she was willing to bet that everything Connie Mac had donated to the community center would qualify as a tax write-off.
“It’s just wonderful to have this time with Connie Mac,” Andrea gushed. “When we get back to the limo, I’m going to ask her about her recipes.”
“Recipes? Who are you trying to kid, Andrea? You never cook.”
“But Connie Mac doesn’t know that. And if I did cook, I’d follow her recipes. There was one last week that Bill would adore, meatloaf with three different sauces.”
“I saw that episode,” Hannah said, and then she clamped her mouth shut. Connie Mac’s recipe for a meatloaf dinner was totally ridiculous. There was no way any busy Minnesota housewife would have the time and energy to mix up a meatloaf, wrap it en croûte, prepare three different sauces, drizzle them artistically around the lip of an oversized china plate, and arrange slices of meatloaf in an overlapping design that was garnished with piping hot deep-fried parsley.
“Didn’t it look just wonderful?” Andrea insisted.
“Yes,” Hannah admitted truthfully. It had been a beautiful presentation, but she suspected that how food looked on television was a lot more important to Connie Mac than how it actually tasted.
“You seem stressed, Hannah,” Andrea said, looking concerned. “Are you worried about getting back to The Cookie Jar?”