“Okay. But I still don’t understand why you’re using … “ Lisa stopped speaking as Hannah picked up an open can of diced jalapeño peppers and dumped them into the bowl. She blinked a couple of times as if she couldn’t believe her eyes, and then she laughed. “I get it. Hot brownies.”

“Very hot. And I didn’t want to waste time and effort baking something that Mike’s going to trash ten seconds after he tastes it.”

Lisa picked up the empty can and took a sniff. Then she immediately grabbed for a paper towel to dab at the tears that were beginning to run down her cheeks. “One sniff and my eyes are watering. Those must be some really potent peppers.”

“Florence said they were,” Hannah named the woman who owned the Lake Eden Red Owl grocery. “She told me she put one can in a pot of chili and it was so hot, nobody could eat it.”

Lisa hung up her coat, switched from her boots to her shoes, and headed for the sink to wash her hands. “Are you going to call Mike and have him come here to taste them?”

“No way! He’s armed, you know. I’ll just run them out to the sheriff’s station and leave them for him.”

“Anonymously?”

“That would be my choice, but he’s a good detective. He’d figure out who sent them. I’ll just drop them off at the front desk and come straight back here.”

“Sounds like a wise decision,” Lisa said, rolling her apron up at the waist and tying it in place by wrapping the strings around her twice. She was petite, and the chef’s aprons were designed for someone Hannah’s size. “What do you want me to do first?”

“You can check the cake in the cooler. I need to see if the raspberry Jell-O is set.”

“Raspberry Jell-O?”

Hannah glanced up at Lisa. It was clear from the expression on her face that she was thoroughly mystified. “It’s Andrea’s recipe for Jell-O Cake, and it needs two different colors of Jell-O. She got it in late, but I promised I’d bake it and test it at the party tonight.”

“So you’re going to put it in the cookbook?”

Hannah sighed deeply, “I’ll have to include it if it turns out all right. It’s a family obligation, you know?”

“I know all about family obligations. I barely managed to keep Dad from submitting his father’s catfish bait recipe.”

“He should have done it. I would have put it in.”

Lisa’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You’re kidding!”

“No, I’m not. Tell him I want it. As far as I’m concerned, every book needs a sprinkling of humor.”

“Even a cookbook?”

“Especially a cookbook. All the recipes are so precise. I miss those days when it was a pinch of salt, a smidgen of pepper, and a snippet of parsley. Of course that was before Fanny Farmer standardized level cooking measurements.”

Lisa turned to Hannah with surprise. “I didn’t know Fanny Farmer did that! And she was from Minnesota! So was Betty Crocker.”