Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen Mysteries)

by Joanne Fluke

  “People who think small-town life is boring ought to move to Lake Eden!”

  “I guess,” Lisa said, and then she began to frown. “Do you think all those things could be related somehow?”

  “I can’t find a connection. And believe me, I tried. I’m giving up on the stolen money and concentrating on Rhonda’s murder. I really don’t have a clue, so far.”

  “Maybe you should tell me everything you know,” Lisa suggested. “It’ll put your thoughts in order and I might be able to catch something you missed.”

  “You think so?”

  “It’s possible. It could be a little like walking into a room where someone’s doing a jigsaw puzzle. Sometimes you spot the piece they’re looking for right off the bat.”

  “Fresh eyes?”

  “That’s it. Except this time it’s fresh ears.”

  “It’s certainly worth a try.” Hannah gave Lisa a smile. “Go put on the coffee and when you come back, we’ll finish the baking. And while we work, we’ll talk bloody murder.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  B y the time Hannah was through telling Lisa everything except the identity of Rhonda’s boyfriend, the cookies were baked and the display jars behind the counter were filled. The big urn of coffee had perked, and Hannah and Lisa sat down at their favorite table in the back of the coffee shop to take a break.

  “Well?” Hannah turned to her partner. “Do you think I missed anything?”

  “No, but I can’t help thinking about Ron LaSalle. Remember what you said when he was murdered?”

  “I said a lot of things.” Hannah sighed. Thinking about her favorite Cozy Cow deliveryman still made her sad.

  “But you pointed out that Ron’s only mistake was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or is it the wrong place at the right time? Or the right place at the wrong time? Or…”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Hannah interrupted her. “I know what you mean. Do you think that’s what happened to Rhonda?”

  “Maybe. What if the killer was in the basement and Rhonda went down there and caught him doing something he didn’t want anyone else to know he was doing? If that happened, he might have…”

  “Killed Rhonda to keep her from talking,” Hannah finished Lisa’s sentence for her. “But what was the killer doing in Mrs. Voelker’s basement in the first place?”

  “I don’t know, unless he was looking for antiques to steal, or something like that. You were in the basement. What was down there, anyway?”

  “The only things I saw were cobwebs, dust, moldy junk, and shelves of old preserves.”

  Lisa shrugged. “That sounds like a perfectly ordinary basement to me. How about the furnace room?”

  “Not counting the grave and Rhonda’s body, there wasn’t much there. There was the furnace, of course, and one wall had some homemade shelves for jams and jellies. A couple jars of jam were broken and there was glass on the floor.”

  “Are you sure that’s all there was?”

  “Pretty sure. But once I spotted Rhonda’s body, I didn’t look around at much else.” Hannah thought about it for a moment. “You’ve got a point, Lisa. I should take a second look.”

  “How are you going to do that? Isn’t the whole house taped off as a crime scene?”

  “Yes, but that shouldn’t be a problem since I don’t have to go inside. There’s a window in the furnace room and I can take a peek through the glass.”

  “Why don’t you take pictures?” Lisa suggested. “Then both of us could look at the crime scene.”

  “Good idea. I’ll run home and get my camera.”

  “I’ve got the disposable I bought last night. It’s still in a bag in my car. You can use that.”

  It didn’t take Lisa long to return with the camera. Hannah examined it and began to frown. It had a built-in flash that went off with every picture. That could present a problem, especially since she’d be taking pictures through the glass.

  “What’s wrong?” Lisa asked, noticing Hannah’s frown.

  “I have to figure out some way to block the flash so it won’t glare off the windowpane.”

  Lisa jumped up again. “You can mask it with electrical tape. We’ve got some in the kitchen drawer.”

  Once the camera was modified, Hannah set off for the Voelker place. She’d heard that a deputy had been stationed there to keep out the ghoul-seekers who wanted a peek at the crime scene, and she’d armed herself with a half-dozen cookies and a cup of takeout coffee. She planned to present the deputy with an early morning snack and then give him her excuse for driving out. Since the Voelker place was a good ten minutes away, she’d have plenty of time to dream up something convincing before she got there.

  Hannah gave a relieved sigh as she parked at the side of the driveway and spotted Lonnie’s older brother, Rick Murphy, sitting in a wicker chair on the front porch. Rick loved her Short Stack Cookies. He’d be so pleased to get some, he’d be sure to buy her story. She slipped off her watch, pushed it out of sight under the passenger seat, and got out of her truck. “Hi, Rick. I brought you a little something for breakfast.”

  “Hey, Hannah. That’s really nice of you.” Rick smiled as he accepted the cookies and coffee. “What are you doing way out here?”

  “I’m looking for my watch. I think I dropped it inside the day we found Rhonda’s body. Mother and I were packing up things for her store and it must have fallen off my wrist.”

  “I wish I could let you look, but I can’t let anyone inside.”

  “That’s okay, Rick. I figured that. But you can go inside and look for it, can’t you?”

  “I’m not allowed inside, either. The only authorized personnel are the detectives working the case. Sorry, Hannah.”

  Hannah gave a deep sigh and then she brightened visibly. “How about just peeking in through the windows? If we spot it, I can ask Bill or Mike to get it the next time they come out here.”

  “Well…I guess that’d be okay. They didn’t say anything about looking in through the windows.”

  “Great.” Hannah gave him a warm smile. “I’ll start on one side of the house and you can start on the other. That way you’ll be back at your post twice as fast.”

  “Sounds good. What does this watch of yours look like?”

  Hannah froze for a millisecond. She should have anticipated that question. To cover her momentary lapse, she described her present watch. “It’s a waterproof watch with a round face and it’s got a black band.”

  “Like the ones in the window at the drugstore?”

  “Exactly. As a matter of fact, that’s where it came from. I know I didn’t take it off, so the band must have broken. It’s probably on the floor in one of the rooms.”

  The moment Rick disappeared around his side of the house, Hannah made a beeline for the basement windows on the other side. She pulled Lisa’s camera out of her purse and clicked off a dozen fast shots, alternating between the four basement windows. By the time she was finished, Rick was rounding the back of the house and Hannah quickly stuffed the camera back into her purse. “Hi, Rick. Any luck?”

  “No. You didn’t spot it, either?”

  Hannah shook her head, doing her best to appear disappointed. “I’m not even sure I lost it out here, but I thought it was worth a look.”

  Once she’d chatted with Rick for a few more moments, Hannah walked back to her truck. She didn’t think he’d been suspicious about her request, but she didn’t put her watch back on until she pulled up in front of the Rhodes Dental Clinic, ten minutes later.

  “Hi, Norman,” Hannah called out when she came through the door. “I’ve got a photographic emergency.”

  “A what?” Norman slid aside the little glass doors at the reception desk and peered out.

  “A photographic emergency. I just took some pictures and I need to have them developed as fast as I can.”

  “Let me check my schedule.” Norman flipped the page in his appointment book. “Okay. I’ve got Mrs. W
alters coming in at nine, but Mayor Bascomb canceled his ten o’clock. If I don’t have an emergency, I’m free from ten to twelve-thirty.”

  “Then you’ll develop my film?”

  “That depends,” Norman said. “I assume it has something to do with Rhonda’s murder?”

  “Photos of the crime scene. I ran out there this morning and took them through the basement window. Don’t mention that to anybody. I had to pull a fast one to do it.”

  “Okay. Did you use a flash?”

  “No. I taped over it so it wouldn’t glare against the glass.”

  Norman looked pleased. “I should have known you’d think of that. How about the light? Was it dark in the basement?”

  “Yes, but there was some light coming in through the windows. The disposable camera I used didn’t have any way of changing the settings.”

  Norman took the camera Hannah passed through the window and glanced at it. “It’ll be okay. I can push the negatives.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s like baking your cookies at a higher temperature to make them crisper.”

  “If I did that, I’d burn them!”

  Norman laughed. “I never claimed to be a baker. Don’t worry about it, Hannah. I’ll play some tricks in the darkroom and get all I can for you.”

  “Thanks, Norman. Do you think you can have them ready by noon and drop them off at The Cookie Jar?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t say I’d do them yet.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. When you asked me, I said, It depends .”

  “On what?”

  “On your Orange Snaps. Would you bake a couple dozen for me to give to my mother? She’s almost forgiven me for not consulting her about the house and your Orange Snaps are her favorites. I figure they ought to get me back in her good graces.”

  “I’ll mix them up the minute I get back to the shop.”

  The street door opened and Mrs. Walters walked in. Hannah greeted her and then she headed back out to her truck. She’d bake the Orange Snaps because Norman had asked her to, but his plan wouldn’t work. Carrie was every bit as stubborn as Delores and there wasn’t a cookie in the world that could pull either mother out of a snit.

  “Mike’s here, Hannah,” Lisa said, poking her head into the kitchen. “He says he has to talk to you about something important.”

  “Okay. Will you give him a cup of coffee and send him back here?”

  Hannah sighed as she finished packaging the Orange Snaps for Norman. Mike had probably found out about her early morning trip to the Voelker place and he’d come to find out what she’d really been doing.

  “Hannah,” Mike greeted her when he came into the kitchen. “What’s all this about a watch you lost at the crime scene? Didn’t you have it on last night when we got together at your mother’s cottage?”

  Hannah sighed and decided to tell the truth. “The watch was just an excuse. I needed to take another look at the basement and I didn’t have time to call you or Bill for permission.”

  “So you made up that story and Rick bought it?” Mike looked absolutely incredulous.

  “Yes, but I didn’t go inside. I just looked in through the windows to see if the basement was the way I remembered it.”

  Mike shook his head. “Rick’s going to have to develop a basic mistrust of people or he’ll never be a good detective.”

  “Is that what you have? A basic mistrust of people?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Isn’t life a lot harder that way?”

  Mike opened his mouth and Hannah could tell he was ready to deny it, but then he shrugged. “I guess it is. That’s a big difference between us. You trust almost everybody and I don’t trust much of anybody.”

  “But you do trust me, don’t you?”

  “Yes, and I shouldn’t. You’ve lied to me enough times.”

  “I never lied!” Hannah’s eyes flashed a warning. “I just…omitted a few things and misled you.”

  “Water under the bridge,” Mike said, looking amused as he took a stool at the work island. “So you needed another look at the crime scene?”

  “That’s right. I realized that after I spotted Rhonda’s body, I really didn’t look around at anything else.”

  “Okay. I’ll buy that. But why didn’t you just ask me if you could see the crime-scene photos?”

  “If I’d asked, would it have done me any good?”

  “Probably not.” Mike laughed and suddenly he was much friendlier. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I’m just not used to sharing the details of an investigation with anyone. I work best alone.”

  “How about Bill?”

  “He’s got access to the case file. I don’t cut him out of it deliberately, but I tend to keep things to myself, especially those crazy theories that come to me in the middle of the night. I’ve always been that way. I guess I’m just a loner by nature. We’re really a lot different, you know? Maybe that’s why I value you so much.”

  “I’m the yin to your yang?”

  “Yeah.” Mike chuckled. “So…what did you find out?”

  “Not a darned thing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Not really. Everything in that basement was just as I remembered it. It was probably a wasted trip.”

  Mike stood up and walked over to put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s usually a wasted trip, but we have to keep on trying. That’s one thing I’m sure of. Rhonda didn’t deserve to die violently. We have to find her killer and punish him.”

  “I know.” Hannah felt real warmth for this man who haunted her dreams. He had ideals, he was compassionate, and he’d said, WE have to find her killer and punish him. Mike had included her, and that meant he’d accepted her. “So are you going to tell me what you’ve found out so far?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Maybe later, but not now. I’ve got something I’ve been working on and I’m not ready to tell anybody about it.”

  Hannah’s mouth dropped open. “But you expect me to tell you all about my investigation?”

  “Of course I do. You’re the amateur and I’m the professional. That’s not meant to put you down, Hannah. That’s just the way it is.”

  “But…”

  “I’ve got to run.” Mike set down his coffee cup and pulled her into his arms for a quick hug. “See you later, okay?”

  After Mike left, Hannah stared at the swinging door until it stopped wiggling. Then she turned back to her work with a scowl on her face. Either Mike hadn’t noticed her lack of response when he’d hugged her, or he’d ignored her anger, intending to deal with it later. Neither possibility pleased her. There was still fire in her eyes ten minutes later when Lisa stuck her head into the kitchen again.

  “Norman’s here,” Lisa announced before she noticed the expression on Hannah’s face. “Oh-oh. Did you have a fight with Mike?”

  “I did. He didn’t. I don’t think he even knew I was mad at him.”

  Lisa opened her mouth to respond, but she must have thought better of it because she just shrugged. “Do you want me to send Norman back here?”

  “Yes. Thanks, Lisa. And if Mike comes back in, cut off his free coffee and cookies. He can pay just like everybody else.”

  “How about Norman?” Lisa asked.

  Hannah’s anger evaporated and she started to grin. “You can give him whatever he wants…at least for now.”

  Orange Snaps

  Don’t preheat the oven yet—

  this cookie dough has to chill

  1½ cups melted butter ( 3 sticks )

  2 cups white sugar

  ½ cup frozen orange juice concentrate ( I use Minute Maid )

  2 beaten eggs (just beat them up with a fork)

  4 teaspoons baking soda

  1 teaspoon salt

  ½ to 1 teaspoon orange zest *

  4 cups flour (you don’t have to sift it)

  1/3 cup white sugar for later

  Melt the butter in a
large microwave-safe bowl. Add the sugar and orange juice concentrate, and stir. Let the mixture cool slightly. Add the eggs, baking soda, salt, and orange zest, stirring after each addition. Add the flour in increments and mix thoroughly. Cover the bowl and refrigerate the dough at least 2 hours (overnight’s even better).

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

  Roll the chilled dough into walnut-sized balls with your hands. Put 1/3 cup white sugar in a small bowl and roll the balls in it. Place them on a greased cookie sheet, 12 to a sheet. Press the dough balls down just a little so they won’t roll off on the floor when you put them in the oven.

  Bake for 10 to 12 minutes at 350 degrees F. The dough balls will flatten out all by themselves. Let the cookies cool for 2 minutes on the cookie sheet and then move them to a wire rack to finish cooling.

  These cookies freeze well. Roll them up in foil, put them in a freezer bag, and they’ll be fine for 3 months or so, if they last that long.

  Yield: approximately 10 dozen thin cookies, depending on cookie size.

  (Tracey loves these cookies and she’s almost managed to convince Andrea that she can have them in place of orange juice for breakfast.)

  Chapter

  Twenty-Three

  “S ee anything new?” Norman asked after Hannah had rifled through the stacks of prints.

  “Not a thing. How about you?”

  “I don’t know if this is important, but the canning jars in the furnace room are a lot smaller than the canning jars in the rest of the basement.”

  “That’s right. The ones in the furnace room are small-size mayonnaise jars and Mrs. Voelker used them to put up her jams and jellies.”