Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen Mysteries) (10 page)

Hannah stared at Sally for a long moment. It was a good suggestion. “You’re a wise woman, Sally.”

“The jury’s still out on that one. Just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you.”

“Thanks.” Hannah turned and started for the door, but she reversed direction as she thought of something. “Do you know if Rhonda ever came in for dinner with a man?”

“Not offhand. I’m only in the dining room part of the time. The rest of the dinner hour, I’m here. Do you want me to ask my waitresses?”

“Yes, and call me if anything turns up.”

“I will. Are you working on the jealous boyfriend angle?”

“It might be a bit premature. I don’t even know if Rhonda
had
a boyfriend.”

“You’ll find out. You’re good at this. If I wasn’t so crazy about your cookies, I’d urge you to switch jobs.”

As Hannah returned to the crowded dining room, she thought about Rhonda and she had to work to keep the smile on her face. She hadn’t been very curious about Rhonda in the past, but now that she was dead, her life had taken on a new importance. It seemed that people could walk through life without causing a ripple, leading ordinary and uneventful lives. It was only after they’d been murdered that people took notice of them. And that thought was depressing.

Hannah sighed as she approached the private booth where her mother, Carrie, and Norman waited. There was only one cure for depression and that was chocolate. If her mother’s cake wasn’t gone by now, it would be shortly.

W
hen Hannah reached her turnoff, she pressed the buttons to close the windows in her truck, leaving only the driver’s window open. She’d lowered them all to enjoy the night air while she drove home, but she had to stop to use her gate card to get into her condo complex, and a stationary vehicle was a prime target for the voracious blood-sucking insects that outnumbered the human population of the state of Minnesota by millions. Some people claimed that the mosquito was the state bird, but Hannah always denied it to the tourists who came into her cookie shop. She conceded that the mosquito might be the state insect, but that would be a close call with the competition from the moths that fluttered around every yard and porch light, the June bugs that flung themselves at the screens, and the deerflies that dive-bombed careless hikers who were foolish enough to wear shorts in the woods. Insects loved Minnesota with its ten thousand lakes. The climate was moist, the air was muggy, and they multiplied with wild abandon.

Once Hannah had driven through the complex and parked in her spot in the underground garage, she climbed up to street level and headed for the covered staircase that led to her upstairs unit. When she reached her door, she slipped her key in the lock, set down her purse, stood firmly on both feet, and opened the door. Just as she’d anticipated, a flying ball of orange and white fur hurtled itself through the air.

“Hi, Moishe.” Hannah caught her cat expertly, using both arms. After almost a year of this enthusiastic method of greeting, she was used to his antics. “You’re glad to see me, right?”

Moishe started to purr as Hannah retrieved her purse with one arm and carried him inside with the other. She chucked him once under his chin, set him down on the back of the couch, and went straight to the kitchen to get him his nightly treat.

Hannah smiled as she dished vanilla yogurt into one of the expensive cut-glass dessert dishes that had been a Christmas present from her mother. According to Delores, the dishes had appreciated in value, and although her mother would certainly disagree, Hannah figured that Moishe deserved to eat from expensive crystal.

As she put the yogurt back into the refrigerator, Hannah eyed the green glass jug of white wine on the bottom shelf. She had been good tonight, forgoing the rolls and dessert, and eating only her salad, chicken, and vegetables. A glass of chateau screwtop was only eighty calories and she deserved a treat. Besides, she still had to call Mike to tell him she’d changed her mind about getting involved in Rhonda’s murder investigation, and the argument they’d have was bound to burn a lot of calories.

Hannah knew she was rationalizing, a no-no for a person on a diet, but her mind was spinning with possible suspects and motives, and she was sure she’d never be able to get to sleep without a small glass of wine. It was obviously the correct thing to do for her health and well-being, and who was she to argue with that? She carried the dessert dish into the living room for Moishe and went back to pour a glass of wine for herself. One sip and then she’d call Mike and face the music.

Once she’d taken up her favorite position on the couch and tasted the forbidden fruit of the vine, Hannah reached for the phone and called the sheriff’s station. A moment later, she was smiling. Mike wasn’t in. If her luck held, he wouldn’t be home either, and she could put off their argument until morning.

Hannah crossed the fingers on both hands and punched in Mike’s home number, no easy feat. Then she held her breath as the phone rang once, twice…

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mike.” Hannah sighed deeply. Her luck had turned rotten and perhaps it was a good thing she hadn’t bought more than one ticket for the quilt the Lake Eden Altar Guild was raffling off. “I need to talk to you about Rhonda’s murder case.”

“Now? I’m in a rush, Hannah. I just stopped off to grab a clean shirt. Bill’s waiting for me in the cruiser.”

“It won’t take long. I just wanted to tell you that I changed my mind about investigating. I’m going to do it.”

“I sort of figured you would,” Mike said, and then he shocked Hannah by chuckling.

“You’re laughing?” Hannah heard her voice squeak in surprise.

“Of course I’m laughing. I was wondering how long it would take you to change your mind. It’s only ten-thirty and that means I won.”

Hannah’s mouth dropped open. “You won
what?”

“The office pool. I took the lowest number. Bill thought you’d cave in by midnight, but I figured it wouldn’t take you that long. Rick Murphy said eight tomorrow morning and Sheriff Grant thought you’d hold out until noon. The others were all somewhere between that, except for Lonnie, Rick Murphy’s younger brother. He had you down for two full days.”

“How many people were in on this?” Hannah asked, not really sure if she wanted to know.

“A dozen. We each put in ten bucks, so I just won a hundred and twenty.”

“A hundred and ten,” Hannah corrected him. She was still fuming about the fact that she’d been the subject of an office pool and her words hissed out like droplets of water skittering across the surface of a hot griddle. “It’s only a hundred and twenty if you forget to subtract your own ten dollars.”

“You’re prickly tonight.” Mike sounded amused.

“Of course I am. You’re betting on me like a football game and I don’t like it. Besides, office pools are illegal.”

“I guess you could turn us all in, but then you’d have to explain what the pool was about. I don’t think you’d like to do that.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t,” Hannah said, giving it up as a bad job.

“Thanks for winning me a bundle, Hannah. I’ll take you out to dinner with it. If there’s nothing else, I’ve got to run. I’ll drop in to see you tomorrow and we’ll compare notes, okay?”

“Uh…okay.” Hannah hung up the phone with a sigh. She wasn’t sure what she should be feeling. Of course she was relieved that Mike hadn’t been upset at what he’d always referred to as her
interference,
but it seemed that no one at the sheriff’s station had expected her to keep her word about not getting involved.

Hannah thought back to the scene of Rhonda’s death. Something was bothering her, niggling at the back of her mind, and she couldn’t help feeling that she’d missed an obvious clue. She went over the scene of the crime in her mind, trying to remember everything she’d noticed. The Voelker house had two entrances. They’d gone in through the front and she’d used the back door when she’d carried out the garbage. She’d gone through every one of the rooms, helping Delores tag the items she wanted. The only things that might have been clues were her pie on the kitchen table and the takeout containers and disposable wineglasses in the garbage. There had been nothing else unusual or out of place, no signs of a struggle, and nothing that would lead anyone to suspect that Rhonda’s body was in the basement.

The stairs to the basement had seemed perfectly ordinary, in good repair and clear of debris. Once she’d followed Norman down into the basement, she hadn’t noticed anything alarming. There had been the usual clutter and moldy smell, but it was a rare basement that wasn’t cluttered and moldy. The door to the furnace room had been hanging from one hinge, but since Hannah hadn’t examined it closely, she had no idea whether it had pulled loose recently, or had been that way for years.

Hannah took herself through the door to the furnace room in her mind. Other than the broken jam jars on the dirt floor, there hadn’t been any visible clues. Who had broken those jars? Delores, in her shock at seeing Rhonda’s grave? Or Rhonda’s killer, as he’d struggled with her?

“Sorry, Moishe.” Hannah reached out to run her fingers through his glossy fur. “This may upset you, but I need to call your least favorite person.”

Hannah picked up the phone, punched in her mother’s number, and a few seconds later she had her mother on the line. “Thanks again for dinner, Mother.”

“You’re welcome. It was fun seeing you and Norman together. Carrie and I talked about it on the way home and we both think you make such a nice couple.”

“Thanks,” Hannah said, leaving it at that. Delores sounded perky and chipper, and Hannah admired her mother’s energy. Most women approaching their sixtieth birthday would be exhausted after working all day and going out to dinner, not to mention finding a murder victim. “I need some information, Mother.”

“About Rhonda? I just got home and I haven’t had a chance to make any calls yet.”

“Not about Rhonda, at least not directly. I need to know about those broken jam jars in the furnace room. Are you absolutely sure you didn’t drop them on the floor?”

“I’m positive. I didn’t even touch them. I remember stepping around them and thinking that someone ought to clean them up.”

“Okay. Thanks, Mother. You’ve been a big help. I’ll let you go now and I’ll see you…”

“Just a minute, Hannah,” Delores interrupted before Hannah could hang up the phone. “I just want you to know that I’m very heartened about this thing with Norman.”

“What thing?”

“The fact that you sided with him, instead of Mike. That means a lot to a man and you made the right decision. I like Mike well enough, but he’s not good husband material.”

Hannah drew a deep breath and let it out again slowly. Then she said, very carefully, “Don’t get your hopes up, Mother. Neither one of them has proposed yet. And I’m not sure what I’d say if they did.”

“Good girl, Hannah!” Delores exclaimed, giving a lighthearted laugh. “I always told you it wasn’t smart to wear your heart on your sleeve.”

Hannah knew she should leave well enough alone, but she couldn’t resist. “Andrea did and it worked for her. Everyone knew she was crazy about Bill.”

“That’s different. They were young and he gave her his class ring when she was a senior. That made them pre-engaged. And after that, they were recognized as a couple, and everyone expected them to get married. It’s really not fair to compare your current situation with your sister’s. Andrea never dated two men at the same time.”

Hannah clamped her mouth shut and didn’t say a word. She happened to know that her sister had dated two boys in high school who’d never known about each other. It was obvious that Delores hadn’t known about them either, and Hannah wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.

“I’ve got to run, dear. I’m starting to crack.”

“Crack?”

“My face. I’m giving myself a facial and my fifteen minutes are up. If I don’t wash it off now, I’ll have to peel it. Goodnight, dear.”

When she’d hung up the phone, Hannah glanced at Moishe, who’d been listening to her conversation. His tail was swishing back and forth, his ears were back, and he’d puffed up into attack mode. Hannah grinned and reached out to smooth his fur. “It’s okay. I hung up and I don’t have to talk to her again tonight.”

But Moishe wasn’t that easily soothed. His tail continued to flick and he regarded her with baleful eyes.

“Come on, Moishe.” Hannah reached out for him again. “If you come closer, I’ll scratch your ears.”

Moishe regarded her solemnly for several seconds and then he moved to the far side of the couch, putting as much space between them as possible.

“I’m not the enemy here, Moishe. As a matter of fact, I saved you from seeing Mother tonight. She offered to pick me up here and take me to dinner. If I’d agreed to that, she might have come in when she brought me home. Think about it. You would have hated that!”

Hannah wasn’t sure what went on in a cat’s mind, but Moishe seemed to take it all in. He stared at her for several seconds and then he turned around, inching forward until his head was resting in her lap.

“That’s better,” Hannah said, scratching his ears and earning a rumble for her efforts. “I knew you’d see it my way. Aren’t you glad I have my own wheels and I can drive myself? I don’t have to rely on…”

When Hannah stopped speaking and scratching his ears, Moishe lifted his head to stare up at her. His expression was as quizzical as a cat’s expression could get.

“I just thought of something,” Hannah told him. “I don’t remember seeing Rhonda’s car at the Voelker place. I know it wasn’t in the driveway when I pulled up, and it couldn’t have been in the garage. I looked through the window and it was filled with firewood.”

Hannah interpreted the expression on Moishe’s face to mean,
Yes? So what?
and she went on. “If Rhonda drove out there, her car would be there. But if she rode with someone else, her car should be parked in the garage at her apartment building.”

Moishe made a sound, a cross between a yowl and a purr, and Hannah nodded, just as if he’d suggested another possibility. He was a social being and he liked to be included in the conversation. “You’re right, Moishe. The only other possibility is that Rhonda’s car was at the Voelker place and her killer stole it to make his getaway.”

Hannah flipped to a blank page in her notebook and jotted a reminder to check Rhonda’s apartment building for her car. If she found it parked in its assigned spot, her next step would be to canvass the neighbors to see if anyone had seen Rhonda leave.

The phone rang again, just as Hannah finished making her notes. She reached out to answer it and smiled when she recognized Lisa’s voice. “Hi, Lisa. Did you find that list of pie buyers?”