Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen Mysteries)

by Joanne Fluke

  “And you have a record from last Friday?”

  “It’s at home, but I’ll call you tonight and read off the names. It’ll probably be after ten. I’m going out to dinner with Herb.”

  “That’s fine. I really want to know who bought a whole pie and only ate one piece. It’s practically an insult.”

  “I know, especially when it’s your Lemon Meringue.” Lisa looked up to see a customer holding his coffee mug aloft. “Mayor Bascomb wants a refill. Do you want to get it while I mix up a batch of Walnuttoes for tomorrow? Donna Lempke called and ordered six dozen for her cousin’s birthday party.”

  “I’ll do the Walnuttoes. You do the coffee.”

  “But are you sure? They’re chocolate and you’re on a diet.”

  Hannah gave an ironic grin. “That’s okay. Seeing that body took my appetite away.”

  “The Dead Body Diet?” Lisa started to grin as she picked up the carafe. “I’m surprised someone hasn’t thought of it before. What do you want me to say if anyone asks me about what you saw in the basement?”

  “Nobody will. Bill and Mike won’t release any information until they confirm the identity, and Norman won’t say anything because they asked him not to.”

  “But how about your mother?”

  “Oh-oh,” Hannah groaned. It was a sure bet that Delores had told someone by now. Actually, the odds were good that she’d told hundreds of someones. “Just say that Mike and Bill are handling it and I’m not involved.”

  Lisa snorted. “They’ll never swallow that.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s true. Wild horses couldn’t drag me into this one. As of right now, I’m officially retired from the murder business.”

  “Then you think it was murder?” Lisa’s eyes grew round.

  “All I know is someone’s dead. It’s up to Doc Knight to determine who, when, and how.”

  Hannah turned and headed back to the kitchen before Lisa could ask more questions. She was convinced that the body they’d found was Rhonda Scharf, and as she got out her recipe book, Hannah swallowed past the lump in her throat. Rhonda had never been one of her close friends, but she hadn’t disliked her. And no one should have to die in a gloomy, moldy basement only hours before leaving on the best vacation of her life. Of course Rhonda had been murdered. The fact that someone had tried to bury her confirmed that. If Rhonda had died accidentally, the person who’d found her would have called the sheriff’s department to report it.

  It didn’t take long to mix up the dough for the Walnuttoes. Hannah had baked them twice a week for the past two years, but she still took the precaution of checking off the ingredients on the laminated surface of her recipe. She was preoccupied with Rhonda’s death and preoccupation led to mistakes.

  Once she’d finished, Hannah covered the bowl with plastic wrap and carried it to a shelf in her walk-in cooler. She was just emerging from the chilly interior when the back door opened and Mike stepped in.

  “Hi, Hannah. We took your mother’s statement and I need to check a few facts with you.”

  “Sure.” Hannah motioned to a stool at the stainless-steel workstation. “Coffee?”

  “That’d be great.” Mike waited until Hannah had brought him a mug of coffee before he opened his notebook. “Did your mother go down to the basement alone?”

  “Yes. Norman and I didn’t know anything was wrong until she told us what she’d seen.”

  “Where were you while she was in the basement?”

  “We were sitting at the kitchen table. We told her to call out if she needed us and the basement door was wide open.”

  Mike began to frown as he referred to his notes. “You didn’t run down there when you heard her screams?”

  “Mother didn’t scream. There wasn’t a peep out of her. That’s why we got worried and went to the stairwell to check on her. We called out to her and when she didn’t answer, we started to go down the stairs. But then we saw Mother coming up.”

  Mike made a note in his book. “Was the house still creaking when you went down there?”

  “Creaking? No.”

  “Then the wind had stopped?”

  “There wasn’t any wind.”

  “Interesting,” Mike said, referring to his notes again. “How about the rats? Were they as large as your mother said?”

  “What rats? We didn’t see any rats.”

  Mike began to grin. “I think your mother must have embellished her story just a bit. How about the gruesome trail of glistening blood?”

  “No blood,” Hannah said, shaking her head.

  “Okay. We’ll just file your mother’s statement under ‘f’ for ‘fiction’ and go with the ones that you and Norman gave us. At least they match what we found at the crime scene.” Mike took another sip of his coffee and stood up. “Thanks, Hannah. I’ve got to run. The fingerprint team should be finished by now.”

  Hannah reached out to grab his arm. “Not so fast. Was I right?”

  “About what?”

  “About the shoe. Was it Rhonda’s?”

  Mike looked as if he didn’t want to say, but then he nodded. “Yes. Doc Knight made a positive identification.”

  “Poor Rhonda.” Hannah sighed deeply. “How did she die?”

  “It’s too early to tell.”

  “But was she murdered?”

  “The autopsy report isn’t in yet.”

  “I’m asking for your personal opinion.” Hannah gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you think that Rhonda was murdered? Or did it look like an accident?”

  Mike thought it over for a moment and then he relented. “This is unofficial. If you quote me I’ll deny it, but it didn’t look like an accident to me. Now don’t ask me any more questions, Hannah. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Just one more thing. Why didn’t Rhonda’s killer finish burying her? She told everyone that she was going on vacation and no one would have missed her for two weeks. Her killer could have bought himself a lot more time if he’d finished burying her.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then you think he was scared off before he could finish filling in her grave?”

  “That’s possible.”

  “What I can’t figure out is why anyone wanted to kill Rhonda. She could be exasperating at times, but everyone I know seemed to like her well enough. How about the crime scene? Did you find any clues?”

  Mike’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not going to interfere with our investigation, are you? You don’t have any reason to get involved this time around.”

  “You’re right,” Hannah said, meeting his eyes squarely. “I’ve got enough to do without solving murder cases. Of course I’ll tell you if I hear anything important, but that’s as far as it’ll go.”

  “Good.” Mike gave her one of his melt-your-heart smiles and pulled her into his arms for a hug. “Bill and I are perfectly capable of running a murder investigation without you.”

  “Of course you are,” Hannah said, hiding her grin against the maroon lapel of his sheriff’s uniform. She’d already helped them solve several murder cases, but Mike was clearly asserting his professional independence.

  “I won’t deny that you helped us a lot in the past, but I don’t want people to think we can’t do our job without you.”

  “I understand,” Hannah breathed, snuggling a little closer. Mike’s hugs were wonderful. He was tall and rugged, and being in his arms made her feel fragile and feminine.

  Mike’s cell phone rang, disrupting the moment, and he answered it. He listened for a moment. “Okay. I’ll be out there in ten minutes.”

  “You have to go?” Hannah asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Yes, but I’ll call you later. The forensic guys are finished and Bill’s waiting for me out at the crime scene.”

  “Take some cookies with you,” Hannah said, heading for the counter to put some in a bag.

  “Thanks. We probably won’t get a break until late and they’ll tide us over.” Mike took the cookies and gave her
a lopsided grin. “Remember what I said, Hannah. Bill and I can handle it.”

  Walnuttoes

  Do not preheat oven—

  dough must chill before baking.

  2 cups chocolate chips (a 12-ounce bag)

  1½ cups brown sugar

  ¾ cup butter (1½ sticks)

  4 eggs

  2 teaspoons vanilla

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  1 teaspoon salt

  2 cups flour (not sifted)

  2 cups finely chopped walnuts approx. ½ cup additional white sugar in a small bowl

  Melt chocolate chips with butter. (Microwave on high for 2 minutes, then stir until smooth.) Mix in sugar and let cool. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Mix in vanilla, baking powder and salt. Add flour and mix well, then add nuts and mix in.

  Chill dough for at least 4 hours, overnight is even better.

  When you’re ready to bake, preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.

  Roll walnut-sized dough balls with your hands. (This is messy—wear thin plastic gloves if you wish. If dough becomes too warm between rollings, return it to the refrigerator.)

  Drop dough balls into a small bowl with white sugar and roll around to coat. Then place them on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a standard sheet. Smush them down with a greased spatula.

  Bake at 350 degrees F. for 12 to 14 minutes. Let cool on cookie sheet for 1 minute, then remove to wire rack. (If you leave them on the cookie sheet too long, they’ll stick.)

  Yield: 8 to 10 dozen, depending on cookie size.

  (Delores says these cookies taste like the Walnetto caramels she loved as a child. She also told me that she likes the cookies better, because they don’t pull out her fillings.)

  Chapter

  Seven

  H annah was ready to return to the coffee shop when the back door opened and Delores poked her head in. “Are you busy, dear?”

  “I’ve got a minute,” Hannah greeted her. “Come in and have a cookie. I’ve got Peanut Butter Melts, Apricot Drops, or Chocolate Chip Crunches.”

  Delores sat down on the stool Mike had vacated at the stainless-steel workstation. “I’ll take a Chocolate Chip Crunch. You’re going to investigate, aren’t you?”

  “No,” Hannah answered, pouring a mug of coffee and setting it down in front of her mother.

  “But you’ve got to investigate!”

  “Why?”

  “Because Rhonda’s dead and we need to find out who killed her.”

  Hannah gulped. She’d told no one except Mike about the lime green tennis shoe. “How do you know it was Rhonda?”

  “Bill told Andrea, and Andrea told me. I just got off the phone with her.”

  “What else did you learn?” Despite her resolve, Hannah’s curiosity was aroused.

  “Rhonda was stabbed with a knife.”

  “Bill told Andrea that?”

  “No, Bill and Mike don’t know it yet. Minnie Holtzmeier told me.”

  “How does Minnie know?”

  “Her son was driving the ambulance that took Rhonda to the morgue and he heard the two paramedics talking in the back. One of them said that it was a single stab wound and the blade of the knife went in between two ribs to puncture Rhonda’s heart. The other one said Rhonda must have died instantly and that was a blessing.”

  “That’s interesting, but I promised Mike I wouldn’t interfere.” Hannah placed two cookies on a napkin and carried them over to Delores. Her mother had only asked for one, but she always ate two and it would save her a return trip. “Don’t pass that information around, Mother. It might hamper the investigation and it’s really none of your business.”

  “Of course it’s my business. I have a vested interest.”

  Hannah was puzzled. “What vested interest?”

  “I’m the one who found Rhonda! I owe it to her to do everything in my power to see that her killer is caught. Haven’t you heard that when you save someone’s life, you bear a responsibility to them?”

  Hannah had heard that line in a score of bad movies. “But you didn’t save Rhonda’s life. Rhonda was already dead when you found her.”

  “I know, but it still amounts to the same thing.”

  Hannah shook her head to clear it. Her mother’s logic left a lot to be desired. She thought about pointing out the dissimilarities, but she wisely kept her silence. Arguing with Delores was an exercise in futility.

  “You have a vested interest, too.”

  “What’s my vested interest?” Hannah asked, regretting the question the moment it had left her lips.

  “Rhonda’s last meal was a piece of your Lemon Meringue Pie. If that’s not a vested interest, I don’t know what is! You have to help me investigate. It’s your duty.”

  “But you told me you didn’t want me to investigate any more murders.”

  “That’s perfectly true. It’s not the sort of thing I want my daughter involved in, but these are extenuating circumstances. I’ll run the investigation and you can just help me.” Delores took a bite of her cookie and chewed thoughtfully. “What do you think we should do first?”

  Hide under the bed until this blows over? Lock ourselves in a cell to save Mike and Bill the trouble of doing it later? Hannah bit her tongue hard to keep from voicing any of her thoughts.

  “I think we should make a list of the people who wanted Rhonda dead. That’s the logical place to start. Get out your notebook, dear.”

  Hannah reached for one of the blank steno pads she kept handy. There was no way she was getting involved in Rhonda’s murder investigation, but Delores didn’t seem capable of taking no for an answer and it couldn’t hurt to write down what her mother dictated. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  “Write down Norman.”

  “Norman?!” Hannah was so startled her pen dug a little hole in the page. “Why would Norman want Rhonda dead?”

  “Because he bought her house. If he thought he paid too much for it, he would have been mad enough to kill her.”

  “That doesn’t fly, Mother. Norman told me he made Rhonda a lowball offer and he got the house at a steal.”

  Delores frowned slightly and it was clear she wasn’t happy about Hannah’s revelation. “If you say so, dear. The house wasn’t the motive then, but it doesn’t mean that Norman didn’t kill her. It’s motive, means, and opportunity…isn’t that right?”

  “It’s right enough for the cop shows.”

  “That’s good enough for me. Norman had the opportunity. He knew that Rhonda was going out there over the weekend to pick up some mementos.”

  “That’s true,” Hannah said, but she set down her pen. “I agree that Norman had the opportunity, but how about the means? I’m not even sure Norman owns a knife.”

  “He could have bought one. They’ve got all sorts of knives at Lake Eden Hardware. And since Norman has medical training, he would have known exactly how to stab Rhonda.”

  Hannah laughed. She couldn’t help it. The thought of Norman as a mad killer wielding a knife he’d just purchased was ridiculous. “Norman’s a dentist. If he’d used his medical knowledge to kill Rhonda, he would have shot her full of Xylocaine or something like that.”

  “You’ve got a point.” Delores sighed deeply. “That’s all right. I didn’t really think Norman did it anyway. We’d better move on to someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “Rhonda’s boyfriend. Couples always have a reason to kill each other, especially if it’s a passionate relationship.”

  Hannah picked up her pen. She was still determined not to get involved, but the idea of a boyfriend had definite possibilities. “Okay, who is he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  That stopped Hannah cold for a moment. “But you think Rhonda had one?”

  “All that flirting must have amounted to something. Rhonda tried to entice every man that walked into the drugstore.”

  Hannah nodded, glad that her mother hadn’t gotten wind of Rhonda’s fl
irtation with Bill. It had happened less than a year ago when Hannah and Bill had gone to Rhonda’s cosmetic counter to ask her about a lipstick mark that had been part of the evidence in Bill’s first murder case. All the while they’d asked questions, Rhonda had flirted with Bill outrageously. When Hannah had mentioned it later, Bill had brushed it off. He’d said that Rhonda always flirted with the guys and it didn’t really mean anything.

  “A flirt isn’t necessarily any more than that,” Hannah reminded her mother. “Rhonda might have run for the hills if a man had tried anything.”

  “Don’t be silly, dear. I’m positive that Rhonda had a boyfriend.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It’s deductive reasoning. Bertie told me that Rhonda had a standing appointment to have her roots touched up. And a woman doesn’t have her hair colored unless she’s trying to look younger for a man.”

  “Really?” Hannah’s eyes narrowed and she eyed her mother closely. At the time of her father’s funeral, her mother’s dark hair had been sprinkled with gray.

  Delores noticed Hannah’s expression and she colored slightly. “Of course there could be other reasons. Rhonda might have wanted to look good for her job. As a matter of fact, I have Bertie touch up my hair every month or so. It makes me look more professional.”

  “Right,” Hannah said, accepting her mother’s excuse at face value. There was no way she wanted to consider the possibility that her mother had a love life.

  “I’m almost positive that Rhonda was involved with someone. There was just too much gossip and where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Everyone was talking about Rhonda and the UPS man a while back. Of course I didn’t pay much attention to it. I don’t approve of gossip.”

  Hannah did her best to keep a straight face. Delores had called her with the story about Rhonda and the UPS man the moment it had hit the telephone wires. “Do you want me to write down the UPS man?”