Peach Cobbler Murder by Joanne Fluke Page A

you,” Herb’s voice answered her from the back and Hannah grinned as she realized that he’d left the intercom open and she could hear their conversation as the champagne was poured.
    â€œWe’ve got a woman driver,” Lisa said. “I’m glad they hire women.”
    â€œHer voice is familiar,” was Herb’s comment.
    â€œYou’re right.” Marge sounded thoughtful. “She reminds me of someone, but I can’t think who.”
    â€œHannah?” Jack guessed.
    â€œHer hair even looks like Hannah’s,” Lisa said.
    â€œThat’s because it is my hair,” Hannah said, turning to face them with a grin.

Chapter Eight
    â€œT his is the best wedding cake I’ve ever eaten!” Sue Ganske complimented Hannah as she came back for a second piece. “I just love having a choice, chocolate with vanilla filling, or white with chocolate filling. And they’re absolutely gorgeous when they’re sliced. Your cakes are every bit as pretty as my Kransekake and they taste a lot better.”
    â€œThanks, Sue,” Hannah said, accepting the compliment graciously. Hannah hadn’t tasted the Kransekake and neither had anyone else. Plates and a cake knife were there for those who wished to sample it, but Sue’s cake was still untouched. Even though Hannah had no firsthand tasting experience, she was almost positive that Sue was right. The layers were made of ground almonds, powdered sugar, and egg whites that were kneaded together and baked until they were set. And while there was nothing wrong with that combination of ingredients, Hannah knew the result wouldn’t be particularly flavorful. On the other hand, the Kransekake was beautiful and it made a perfect decoration. Sue had drizzled the golden brown layers with white icing and decorated the resulting coneshaped edifice with miniature Norwegian flags and colorful frosting roses.
    Hannah was in a slightly pensive mood as she gazed around at the wedding guests. Had the traditional Norwegian wedding cake been created to make a point about marriage? The exterior was gorgeous, but the inside would be disappointing to those expecting a perfect treat. It was precisely what not to look for in choosing a bride or a groom, and it reminded Hannah of Shawna Lee Quinn. The southern sister was gorgeous on the outside but she was a pretty shell without an ounce of taste or substance. She’d promised Dick that she’d be there with her peach cobbler in plenty of time for the dessert buffet, and the prime space in the center of the table was still filled with the vase of flowers that Sally had stuck there while they were waiting for her to arrive.
    â€œYou’re doing a great job, Hannah.” Sally, who was stationed behind the dessert buffet to help people dish up the things they couldn’t reach, sidled closer to Hannah’s wedding cake station at the end of the table. At the same time Sally, the perfect hostess, kept up a running conversation with the guests who were trying to decide which desserts to take. “ Oh, hello, Gail. Did you try the Pineapple Whip? Marge brought it and it’s absolutely delicious. So, where is she?”
    It took a moment for Hannah to realize that Sally’s question was aimed at her. “Which she are you talking about?”
    â€œThe one you don’t want to see. How about some fresh strawberry pie, Sam? I know it’s your favorite. I’m talking about Shawna Lee.”
    â€œI don’t know. You’d think she would have called if she’d had car trouble.”
    â€œMaybe she’s stuck on the road,” Sally suggested, turning to look out the series of picture windows that overlooked the lake. “It’s coming down a little harder now. Would you like me to help you with that chocolate mousse, Lucille? ”
    Hannah looked out at the snow on the ground. Barely an inch had fallen and anyone could drive through that.