“You’re turning that girl into a shrew,” James growled at Murphy as Lottie threaded her way back to the buffet table. “Don’t you have a book to promote? Some slander to spread? An ambulance to chase?”
Putting on a wounded expression, Murphy gesticulated around the church. “This is my community too, and I’m here to report on its news. Besides, I saw Paulette on TV and I wasn’t going to miss a chance to sample one of her cakes. I guess baking unbelievable desserts runs in the family.” She accepted a wedge from Lottie. “This is my third sample, mind you. And speaking of promotion, you’ll be happy to hear that I’ll be in New York for the release of The Body in the Bakery. From there I’m going on a twelve-city tour, so you won’t have to watch me chase ambulances for months.”
“I’m taking over as the Star ’s editor in her absence,” Lottie added with a smug smile.
“Congratulations,” James replied politely. “But keep in mind that the people of Quincy’s Gap are more likely to share their stories with someone who is earnest, approachable, and modest. Kind of like Scott Fitzgerald. He’s only in his mid-twenties and the entire town loves and admires him. At least anyone with a lick of sense, that is.” He tried to give Lottie his sternest look. “Thank you for coming, ladies.” And with that, he turned his back on the two speechless journalists.
Despite his determination not to succumb to the temptation of seeing plate upon plate of sweet-smelling cake everywhere he turned, conversing with Murphy and Lottie had put James on edge. Before he knew it, he had inhaled one slice and was carving away at a second, savoring the creamy butter-rum frosting and the spongelike moistness of the cake.
“Everything Paulette said about this cake when she was on TV was true,” he said to Bennett. “Food like this is just too good to give up.”
Bennett shrugged. “I’m not a big fan of eggnog.”
“It doesn’t actually have any in the batter,” James explained. “Milla showed me the recipe. It’s the nutmeg that makes people think of eggnog.”
Eyeing the few remaining pieces on the table, Bennett shot off like a cannon to claim one as his own. Within minutes, all the slices were gone, the coffee urns were nearly drained, and the gathering had been reduced from well over one hundred people to less than twenty.
James washed down his last bite of cake with tepid coffee, threw away his trash, helped to clear away any signs of debris in the hall, and then slipped his arm around Milla. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Am I ever! I can’t believe Wheezie! She’s not even sorry about what she said. Here, in church, she told me that she’s glad that Paulette’s dead! That the only shadow over her life had been wiped away! She said our sister’s only joy was in seeing others miserable and poor so she could gloat over being rich and famous and that people like that bring darkness to the world.”
“Whoa.” James knew he’d have to share that statement with the supper club members. With Wheezie so plainly satisfied by Paulette’s death, she was a prime suspect. Assuming she had found transportation to the Widow’s Peak, she could have poisoned her sister, seeking a painful death as revenge for the hurt she had suffered by being denied a life with the man she loved. Looking at Jackson and Milla standing shoulder to shoulder, James said, “Pop, I’d say you picked the finest of the Rowe sisters.”
Jackson snorted. “I’m glad the whole lot of them are leavin’ town. I don’t want to share my Christmas roast with those miserable people.” Looking at Milla’s weary face, Jackson took her hand in his. “I’m sorry. I know they’re your family and we don’t choose our kin, but not one of them has a drop of goodness in them.”
“Oh, I think there’s good and bad in all of us, dear, but I’m ready for a break from them too.” She sighed heavily. “I wish we really could have laid my sister to rest today. Who knows what we’re going to have to deal with when those lab results come back.”
“Don’t think about that now,” James advised as he covered Jackson’s painting with a sheet and slipped it under his arm. “Let’s just go home and watch The Christmas Carol and eat ourselves sick.”
“And instead of going to bed and dreaming of sugarplums, I can dream about my new shop and you can dream about your darling house,” Milla smiled at James.
“ I’m stickin’ to sugarplums!” Jackson declared sulkily and the trio left the church, their arms linked, their voices lifted in laughter.
The Diva’s Eggnog Cake
2 cups cake flour
21⁄2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
11⁄3 cups brown sugar, firmly packed
2 eggs plus enough whole milk to make 3⁄4 cup
1⁄2 cup butter, softened
2⁄3 cup whole milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Sift the cake flour into a large bowl. Add the baking powder, salt, nutmeg, and brown sugar. Crack the eggs directly into a measuring cup, and then add enough milk to total 3⁄4 cup of liquid. Beat the egg/milk mixture into the dry ingredients. Blend in the butter, and stir slightly until the mixture is smooth. Beat in the remaining 2⁄3 cup of milk and the vanilla. Pour the batter into three greased and floured 8-inch baking pans (or use cooking spray with flour, such as PAM baking spray). Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, or until a knife or wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool in the pan for 5 minutes, and then remove the cake from the pan to cool completely. Frost with the Diva’s Butter Rum Frosting, and garnish with a light sprinkle of nutmeg if desired.
The Diva’s Butter Rum Frosting
3⁄4 cup butter
1 cup plus 21⁄2 cups confectioners’ sugar, sifted
1⁄4 teaspoon salt
5 tablespoons heavy whipping cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
11⁄2-2 tablespoons dark rum (depending on taste) or
21⁄2 teaspoons rum extract
1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
Melt the butter in a large bowl. Gradually add 1 cup of the sifted confectioners’ sugar and beat well. Slowly beat in the salt and cream. Beat in the remaining 21⁄2 cups of the confectioners’ sugar
1⁄2 cup at a time. Continue to beat until the frosting begins to thicken, then whisk in the vanilla, rum or rum extract, and the pumpkin pie spice. Allow the mixture to sit for a few minutes. Frost the cake using this prepared frosting.
ELEVEN
Life in Quincy’s Gap was remarkably uneventful once the holiday season was through. Slowly, life began to resume its normal rhythm of five-day workweeks and fleeting, two-day weekends.
Children of all ages finally returned to school, having spent over two weeks indoors playing video games, watching movies, and sending instant messages to their friends. Their parents, finally relieved of hours of endless whining, bickering, and professed boredom from their progeny, welcomed the sight of the yellow school buses with great joy.
James usually disliked the departure of the festive holiday season and the arrival of the cold, gray days of January, but as the first week of the new year flew by, he began to grow more and more excited about his little yellow house. He had driven by it several times since his bid had been accepted, visualizing how it would look in springtime with the dogwoods in the front yard showing off their soft, creamy blossoms and the redbud trees on the sides of the property displaying cheerful clusters of hot-pink petals.