The Cereal Murders by Diane Mott Davidson Read Free Book Online Page B

same. But in this parish the peace was a signal to pass along news, commentary on weather, parish illnesses and absences, and so on, until the priest halted the ruckus to make announcements. Unfortunately, the peace discussion this day was devoted to the events out at Elk Park Prep.
     
     
Happy Endings Plum Cake
     
     
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
     
     
_ cup granulated sugar
     
     
_ cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
     
     
2 large eggs
     
     
I teaspoon vanilla extract
     
     
2 « cups all-purpose flour (high altitude: add 2 tablespoons)
     
     
2 teaspoons baking powder (high altitude: subtract « teaspoon)
     
     
1 teaspoon baking soda
     
     
« teaspoon salt
     
     
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
     
     
1 16-ounce can purple plums packed in syrup, well drained, the syrup reserved and the plums chopped confectioners' sugar
     
     
Preheat the oven to 400ø. In a large , mixing bowl, beat the butter until creamy and light, then gradually add the sugars, beating until creamy and smooth. Beat in the eggs, then the vanilla. Sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon together. Stir the dry ingredients into the butter mixture, alternating with « cup reserved syrup, beginning and ending with dry ingredients. Stir in the plums. Pour the batter into a buttered 9- by 13-inch pan. Bake for 25 to '30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean. Turn the cake out onto a rack and allow it to cool, then dust with confectioners' sugar. Makes 12 to 16 servings.
     
     
When Arch and I had politely shaken the hands of all those around us, Marla surprised us by squeezing into our pew. She said accusingly, "You didn't tell me you found him! After the dinner! Did you know the police have already been around to question some of the parents? I hear they suspect that kid living with you. You know, Julian."
     
     
"What? Who told you that?"
     
     
"I just heard it," she replied with a shrug of silver suede. "I can't remember who told me. Oh, look, Father Olson's giving us the sanctimonious eye. Can't talk now."
     
     
During the final hymn I noticed that Audrey Cooper- smith had slipped in sometime during the service. She stood, statuelike, in the last pew with her arms clamped across her chest. Her face was fatigued, but carefully made up, and she wore a long white apron over her baggy clothes. Since her separation, Audrey had been inclined to wear oversize chamois shirts and gray pants that looked as if they'd been issued for postal service employees. She carried a purse only rarely, favoring instead a wallet in her back pocket and a chunk of keys dangling from a belt loop. Now, although everyone around her was singing, she was not. Her dark eyes were half closed. I wondered if she was praying for Carl's return or for self-improvement. On the other hand, maybe these were mutually exclusive.
     
     
While the acolytes snuffed the altar candles, I signaled to Audrey and we quickly set up a table at the back of the church. Then I tried to spot Caroline Dawson in the bustle. The last thing I needed was for the plum cake to be decimated before she even got to sample it.
     
     
Audrey trundled up to one of the counters, her mouth turned down in a deep-set scowl. Above the cheerful din from the foyer, she said, "Greer Dawson's mother is out there. She wants some plum dessert. I said I didn't know anything about it. She said, 'Well, you just better go check, then.' " Audrey fluttered her free hand against her chest. "Why doesn't she ask Greer? She couldn't even manage to help us last night, why can't she pitch in this morning? Or is actual catering too difficult for the Hammer?"
     
     
"Audrey," I said in a placating tone, "Greer was listening to the program last night; just like Heather, just like Julian. Let me deal with Caroline Dawson."
     
     
Audrey grunted. Of course, she had a point. Greer D., the Hammer, was interested in working for me only as a way to appear