Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen Mysteries)

by Joanne Fluke

  When Howie had left, Hannah turned to her sister. “Is that all?”

  “That’s it.” Andrea looked relieved. “Congratulations on the sale, Rhonda. And congratulations to you, Norman. You bought a great piece of property.”

  Hannah started to get up from the table, but Norman beat her to her feet. “The cookies are on me,” he announced, grinning at all the patrons in the shop. “I just bought my first house.”

  “And I just sold my first house.” Rhonda stood up next to Norman. “I’ll pay for the cookies. Thanks to Norman, I’m the one with all his money.”

  There was a burst of laughter from her customers and Hannah headed off to the counter, leaving Norman and Rhonda to hammer out the details. The Cookie Jar was packed with dozens of people who’d already paid, but Hannah didn’t know of a single one who would turn down the chance to have a free cookie. She called that phenomenon “buffet mentality.” You could be full to bursting, but if the food was all-you-can-eat, you’d pig out way past the point of comfort. It was the same mind set that caused women to fill their purses with free perfume samples they’d never try, and that gave guests at fixed-price New Year’s Eve parties champagne hangovers for the bowl games the next day.

  Lisa was carrying coffee refills from table to table when Rhonda came up to the counter. “I won,” she said, looking pleased. “I’m paying for the first free cookie and Norman’s going to pay for the second.”

  Hannah added up Rhonda’s bill. Once it had been settled, she expected Rhonda to leave, but Rhonda slid onto a stool at the counter.

  “The house isn’t much,” she confided. “I don’t blame Norman for wanting to tear it down. It’d cost more to remodel than it’d ever be worth. It’s a nice piece of property though, and you’ll love the view. I hope you and Norman will be very happy in your new home.”

  Warning bells rang in Hannah’s head. She knew she had to tread carefully. Rhonda wasn’t the biggest gossip in town, but she was definitely a contender. “It won’t be my home, Rhonda. All I did was design it with Norman.”

  “But I thought…” Rhonda stopped speaking and began to frown. “When Norman told me he was building the house you designed for the contest, I just naturally assumed that…You aren’t going to marry him?”

  “No.”

  “But you’ll never find anybody nicer!”

  “That’s probably true.”

  “Then why won’t you marry him?”

  Hannah sighed. Rhonda had the persistence of a door-to-door salesman. “Norman hasn’t asked me.”

  “He hasn’t?” Rhonda looked shocked, but she covered it quickly and reached out to pat Hannah’s hand. “Don’t lose heart, dear. I know you’re nearly thirty and all of your friends are married, but I’m sure Norman’s just waiting until the house is built. As a matter of fact, I’m sure that’s what he’s doing.”

  Hannah decided that it was best to change the subject. She was tired of being on the defensive about Norman’s failure to pop the question. “Congratulations on the sale, Rhonda. Are you planning to do something special with the money?”

  “Yes. I’m taking a real vacation for the first time in my life and it’s a dream come true. Thanks to Norman I can afford it now and I booked the ticket last night. I leave Monday morning for Rome!”

  Rhonda’s eyes lit up and Hannah caught some of her excitement. “That sounds wonderful. How long are you staying?”

  “Two glorious weeks! That should give me enough time to see everything I’ve always wanted to see.” Rhonda reached for her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ve got to run or I’ll be late to work. If I don’t see you before I leave, bon voyage.”

  Hannah bit back a grin as Rhonda slid off the stood and walked toward the door. Bon voyage meant “good voyage” and she should have said it to Rhonda, not the other way around.

  Once Norman and Andrea had left, Hannah manned the counter in the cookie shop while Lisa went back to the kitchen to work on their Independence Day cookies. When the predictable lull came at eleven-thirty, Hannah stepped back to the kitchen to see the results.

  “What do you think?” Lisa asked, putting the finishing touches on the last tray of cookies.

  “They’re perfect. No one would ever know they’re recycled.”

  “I gave a couple of my mistakes to Freddy and Jed.” Lisa motioned toward the pantry where Freddy and his cousin were hanging the new shelves that Hannah had bought. “I’ll deliver our cookie orders if you want to stay here.”

  “That’s fine with me. Did you mention that ceiling fan?”

  Lisa shook her head. “No, I forgot all about it.”

  “I’ll tell them. This would be a good time to fix it.”

  A few minutes later, the ladder had been set up in the cookie shop and Freddy steadied it while Jed climbed up to look at the defective fan. He yanked the pull cord, but the blades didn’t move. Then he loosened the screws on the hub and peered inside.

  Freddy looked anxious as he watched Jed overhead and Hannah put her hand on his arm to reassure him. “Don’t worry, Freddy. I’m sure Jed can fix it.”

  “But I’m the one that did that fan,” Freddy sounded every bit as upset as he looked. “I must have done it wrong.”

  Jed looked down at his cousin. “No, you did it right. The wires came loose, that’s all. It could have happened to anyone. I’ll fix it and it’ll work just fine.”

  “But I should fix it,” Freddy insisted. “It’s my fan and a man’s got to stand behind his work.”

  Jed smiled and Hannah could tell that he approved of what Freddy had said. “You’re right, buddy. I’ll come down and you can fix it. Hold the ladder like I taught you, okay?”

  “Okay. I’m holding it, Jed.”

  As Freddy gripped the ladder tightly, Hannah realized that he looked different. His hair was shorter and his clothes were clean, but there was another change. Freddy was dressing better now that Jed had moved in with him. Instead of donning the baggy green trousers and old work shirts that had belonged to his father, Freddy now had jeans that fit him and cotton knit shirts with a pocket in the front. He even had new work boots that had replaced his battered old tennis shoes.

  “Good job, Freddy.” Jed stepped off the ladder and patted Freddy on the back. “That ladder didn’t move an inch.”

  “Nope. I held it real tight, just the way you taught me.”

  Jed walked over to his toolbox and removed a rubber-handled screwdriver and a roll of black electrical tape. “Where’s your tool belt, Freddy?”

  “Gotta think…” Freddy stared up at the ceiling for a moment. “It’s in the pantry, Jed. You told me to take it off when it bumped you.”

  “Right. Go get it, then. You’re going to need it to carry tools up the ladder.”

  Hannah waited until Freddy had gone back to the kitchen and then turned to Jed with concern. “Are you sure Freddy should be working with electricity? It’s pretty dangerous.”

  “As long as I’m here, he’ll be fine. Freddy knows better than to try it alone.”

  Hannah studied the young man standing in front of her. He was like a savvier, more animated version of Freddy and no one would doubt that they were cousins. They had the same athletic build, the same sandy hair, and the same blue-gray eyes. They were both just under six feet tall and they were dressed the same, whether it was planned or by accident. The only difference was that Freddy’s face was fuller, more childish, and Jed’s features were sharply defined.

  “Look, Hannah…” Jed reached out to place his hand on her arm. “It’s good for Freddy to learn new things. Everyone in Lake Eden protects him just like his mother did and that holds him back. I know you do it out of kindness, but that’s not really helping Freddy in the long run.”

  Hannah sighed. Jed had a point. “Maybe you’re right. We’re just concerned, that’s all.”

  “Well, you can relax now. I’m here and I’m going to take care of Freddy. He’s my buddy. We played together when we were kids and I�
�ve always liked him. I want to see him lead a good life and do all that he can do.”

  “I got it, Jed.” Freddy came through the door with a smile on his face. His tool belt was buckled around his waist and he looked determined to tackle the defective ceiling fan.

  “Good.” Jed handed him the screwdriver and the tape. “Find a place for this on your belt. Do you remember what to do when you get to the top of the ladder?”

  “I remember. First you turn off the power.”

  “That’s right. Hold on a second and I’ll throw the circuit.”

  Once Jed had turned off the power, Hannah stood to the side and watched as Freddy climbed the ladder. He was a bit more hesitant than Jed had been, watching every step to make sure his feet were in place, but he climbed up steadily.

  “Do you see those two wires hanging down from the hub on the fan?”

  “I see ’em, Jed.”

  “Wind the black one around the base of the black screw and tighten it down. When you’re through with that, put a strip of tape over it so it doesn’t come loose. Do the same with the red wire and the red screw.”

  “Okay. I can do that.”

  Hannah watched as Freddy tackled the job. It took him a while, but he was wearing a big smile when he’d finished. “I did it, Jed.”

  “Yes, you did. Come on down, Freddy.”

  “Okay. I’ll take it real slow, Jed. Getting down is a lot harder than getting up. My head’s up so high I can’t see where my feet are going.”

  “Can you get down on your own? Or should I help you with your feet?”

  Freddy looked confused and Hannah could understand why. Jed had asked two conflicting questions and now Freddy had to decide which one to answer first.

  “Yes, I can get down,” Freddy answered at last. “And no, I don’t need you to help. Here I come, Jed.”

  Both Hannah and Jed watched as Freddy climbed down the ladder. There was a proud smile on his face, but he gave a big sigh of relief when his feet touched the ground. “Can I be the one to test it?”

  “Sure,” Jed said. “Let me turn on the juice and then you can try the wall switch.”

  Once Jed had given him the okay, Freddy flicked the switch and the blades started to revolve in perfect tandem with the other ceiling fans. “Look at that. I did it! Was that good, Jed?”

  “That was real good.” Jed patted Freddy on the back and then he turned to Hannah. “If it’s okay, we’ll take our lunch now. We’ll be back here at one to work on those shelves.”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “What do you say, Freddy?” Jed clamped an arm around Freddy’s shoulders and walked him toward the door. “You want to have lunch at the café?”

  “I like the café. Can I have chili?”

  “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

  “And a chocolate shake?”

  “Sure, Freddy. Knock yourself out.”

  “Why do I have to do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Knock myself out.”

  Jed laughed and glanced back at Hannah. “It’s just an expression, Freddy. I didn’t really mean that you should hit yourself.”

  “What did you mean, then?”

  “I meant that you should order whatever you want and I’ll pay for it.”

  “Okay. I’ll have chili, and onion rings with ketchup, and a chocolate shake, and pickles. And maybe I’ll have coconut cake, too.”

  Hannah was grinning as the door closed behind them. Freddy didn’t get the chance to eat at the café very often and it sounded like he was ready to take full advantage of the unexpected treat. If Jed didn’t keep an eye out, Freddy would eat up their whole day’s salary and then some.

  Chapter

  Four

  H er weekend had been boring beyond belief and Hannah was not in the best of moods on Monday morning as she began to bake the cookies they’d need for the day. With Mike in Iowa and Norman busily calling contractors and getting estimates on the work to be done, Hannah had decided she’d finally do the spring housecleaning she’d put off for three months.

  When The Cookie Jar had closed at five on Saturday, Hannah had driven straight home to feed Moishe and fix her evening meal. She’d done her utmost to pretend that her green dinner salad was a piece of buttery garlic bread, her boneless skinless chicken breast was a thick slab of country ham, and each floret of steamed broccoli was a crispy French fry, but her powers of self-deception had failed her before she’d even raised the fork to her mouth. She’d eaten most of it anyway and shared a few bites of her chicken with Moishe, who’d seemed delighted that she was dining on one of his favorite meats. Once her dishes were stashed in the dishwasher, she’d grabbed one of her ever-present steno pads to make a list of the tasks she needed to tackle and before she’d crawled under the covers at eleven, her kitchen floor had been spotless, all the burned-out lightbulbs in her condo had been replaced, every inch of her carpet had been sucked free of dirt and unidentified fibers, and all the clothes she’d sprinkled and stuck in the freezer to avoid mildew attacks before she got around to ironing them had been neatly pressed and were hanging in her closet.

  Sunday had been more of the same. Hannah had risen early, eaten one piece of dry toast and a half grapefruit for breakfast, and salivated for a full two minutes when she’d smelled bacon frying in a neighbor’s apartment. She’d read the Sunday paper and then she’d tackled the rest of her to-do list. She’d carried the contents of Moishe’s litter box down to the Dumpster in the garage, scrubbed the fixtures in her bathroom until they were sparkling, and straightened the linen cabinet. After a big bowl of mixed vegetables for lunch, she’d rearranged her spice drawer, washed all the windows, dusted the bookshelves, and emptied the trash. She’d even cleaned out the kitchen cupboards, although it had taken every ounce of willpower she possessed to toss out the half-eaten canister of caramel corn that Bertie Straub had given her for Christmas.

  Dinner had been a nice piece of fish with a small baked potato sans sour cream and butter, and another mixed salad with low-cal dressing. Since Hannah had never been fond of fish, Moishe had gotten the lion’s share of that. She’d alleviated her urge to snack by munching celery sticks as she’d watched several insipid movies, and she’d crawled under the covers at ten, hoping that sleep would silence the rumbling of her stomach.

  “Hi, Hannah,” Lisa greeted her as she walked in at seven-thirty. “Something smells good.”

  “That would be cookies. I’m just glad my nose is stuffed up!”

  “The diet’s getting to you?” Lisa gave her a sympathetic look.

  “Yes. ‘Diet’ has a lot in common with some other four-letter words.”

  “I understand. Why don’t you go in the shop and put on the coffee? I’ll finish up in here.”

  “Thanks, Lisa.” Hannah turned and walked toward the swinging door that led to the coffee shop. “I had the most awful urge to spoon down all that cookie dough. Raw.”

  Once temptation was behind her, Hannah felt much better. As she measured out the coffee grounds, she reminded herself that the waistband on her jeans had been looser this morning and this was not the time to falter in her resolve. If she could keep it up, she’d be thin and beautiful. Well…maybe not beautiful, but certainly thinner. She’d feel better, she’d have more energy, and she might even have the nerve to buy a new bathing suit before the swimming season was over for the year.

  Hannah had just plugged in the coffee when the phone rang. They weren’t open for business yet, but it could be someone calling with an advance order. She lifted the receiver and answered in her most professional voice. “This is The Cookie Jar. Hannah speaking.”

  “I’m glad I caught you, dear.”

  “Hello, Mother.” Hannah glanced up at the clock. It was ten to eight and that was much later than Delores usually called.

  “I hate to disturb you at work, but I need to ask for your help.”

  This was a new wrinkle! Delores never asked, she demanded. “What is it
, Mother?”

  “Norman told Carrie that we can take any furnishings we want from the Voelker place. The only catch is, he found someone to start demolishing it on Saturday and we have to get the things out before then.”

  “And you want me to help you move them?” Hannah’s muscles began to cramp at the thought. The last time she’d helped her mother move antiques, she’d been stiff and sore for almost a week.

  “No, Luanne’s taking care of all that. She’s rented a truck and hired a couple of high school boys to do the heavy lifting. She’s absolutely wonderful, Hannah. Her talents were simply wasted at the café.”

  “I’m glad it’s working out so well,” Hannah said, smiling to herself. As far as she was concerned, Luanne Hanks was a story of success in the face of adversity. The Hanks family lived at the end of Old Bailey Road, right next to the town dump and a mile past Freddy Sawyer’s house. The youngest of six children, Luanne had dropped out of school in her senior year to have a baby, but she’d studied at home and passed her high school equivalency exam. Instead of taking the easier way out and giving her daughter up for adoption, Luanne had decided to raise Suzie as a single mom. For the first two years, she’d supported her widowed mother and her baby by working at Hal & Rose’s Café as a waitress and selling Pretty Girl Cosmetics door to door.

  Delores had come into contact with Luanne when she’d done the makeup for the old-fashioned portraits Norman had taken at the Lake Eden Winter Carnival. Impressed with Luanne’s eagerness to learn about antiques, Delores and Carrie had hired her as their assistant when they’d opened Granny’s Attic in May.

  “I’m going out to the Voelker place this afternoon to tag the things we want to take. I thought it would be fun if we went out there together.”

  Hannah searched her mind for an ulterior motive. Her mother always had an ulterior motive. Hannah knew very little about antiques, and Delores was an expert. There was no way her mother needed her help with that. As far as she knew, her mother’s car was running just fine and she was perfectly capable of driving out there by herself. Perhaps Delores just wanted to spend a few hours with her eldest daughter? No, that couldn’t be it.