Apple Turnover Murder, Key Lime Pie Murder, Cherry Cheesecake Murder, Lemon Meringue Pie Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  Hannah just barely managed to squelch a chuckle. She’d seen Delores take the long way around to the ladies room several times in the past, and once she’d even dropped her purse by the row of private booths so she’d have more time to listen.

  “I have a question for you, Hannah.” Delores stared hard at her. “Norman says he asked you to investigate and you promised to think about it and let him know in the morning. Is that right?”

  Hannah hesitated. She’d never been any good at walking on eggshells and this situation had the earmarks of a giant omelet in the making. What if Delores really wanted the job as chief investigator and she’d resent it if Hannah took over? Was there any explanation Hannah could give for her change of heart that wouldn’t lead to infanticide? Or was infanticide called something else when a mother killed her grown daughter?

  “Well?” Delores glared at her. “I’m waiting for an explanation, Hannah Louise.”

  Her mother only called her Hannah Louise when she was in big trouble and Hannah thought fast. “Norman told me that Mike and Bill roped off the entire Voelker house as a crime scene and he can’t tear it down before they solve Rhonda’s murder. That means he might have to delay building our dream house until spring, and…”

  “That’s enough, dear,” Delores interrupted her. “I understand perfectly and I think you made the right decision. It was a matter of priorities.”

  Hannah felt a bit guilty as she basked in her mother’s approval. Delores thought their dream house had made all the difference. If Hannah weren’t careful, her mother would be sending out invitations to a bridal shower that would never happen.

  Norman looked eager as he turned to Hannah. “Does that mean that you’re going to do it?”

  “Of course it does,” Delores answered for her. “And I’m glad we got all this settled. We’ll all do everything we can to help you, Hannah. I made some calls this afternoon and I’m almost positive that Rhonda led a double life.”

  “Really?” Norman looked interested. “What kind of a double life?”

  Delores leaned across the table and lowered her voice. “I think she had a boyfriend, perhaps even more than one. But let’s not go into all that now. Why don’t we order? Once we’ve eaten, we can discuss Rhonda’s murder in detail over dessert.”

  Hannah’s dietary resolve wavered dangerously when their waitress wheeled up the dessert cart. Sally’s delicious flourless chocolate cake was sitting in the center of the display. Hannah started to salivate the moment she spotted it.

  “I’ll have the chocolate cake,” Delores declared. “I ordered it the last time I was here and it was simply scrumptious.”

  “The same for me,” Carrie echoed.

  “Nothing for me.” Norman glanced at Hannah. “How about you?”

  “Just coffee.” Hannah forced the words past her lips. She’d followed her diet to the letter so far, eating only her salad and her serving of coq au vin. She’d even ordered steamed broccoli in place of potatoes.

  Once their coffee had been replenished and the cake had been served, Delores turned to Hannah. “Well? What do you want us to do first, dear?”

  Eat your cake fast, before I cave, Hannah thought, her eyes glued to the rich confection on her mother’s dessert plate, but of course she didn’t say that. If Delores found out that she was on a diet, she’d have to listen to hours of unsolicited and unhelpful advice. “Just keep your ears open for any facts about Rhonda’s private life that might have led to a motive for her murder.”

  “I think I can find out who her boyfriend was,” Carrie volunteered. “When I get home tonight, I’ll make some calls.”

  “How about the UPS man?” Delores asked.

  “Sam?” Carrie sounded shocked. “Oh, he was Rhonda’s cousin on her father’s side. That’s why he used to drop by to have lunch with her.”

  “Is Sam still in the area?” Hannah asked, wondering about Rhonda’s family history. If Rhonda’s cousin was jealous over the fact Rhonda had inherited the Voelker place, he might have had a motive for murder.

  “No, he went back to Utah a few months ago. Rhonda said his uncle was wealthy and they owned some high-tech corporation. Sam took over as president when the uncle retired.”

  Hannah sighed, mentally scratching Sam from her list of suspects. Not only was he several hundred miles away, he was now running a successful business. Sam wasn’t likely to care that his cousin had inherited an old wreck of a house in Lake Eden, Minnesota.

  “Would it help to talk to Rhonda’s cleaning woman?” Norman asked.

  “Absolutely.” Hannah beamed at him. Cleaning women often knew a lot more than they let on. “Do you know who she was?”

  “Luanne’s mother, Marjorie Hanks. She called and left a message on my answering machine at the clinic to see if I wanted her to keep on cleaning the house. I told her I didn’t, but I hired her to clean the dental clinic.”

  Hannah took out her notebook and jotted down the information. Marjorie Hanks was no fool. She might have noticed something at the Voelker house that could provide them with a clue.

  Delores pushed her partially eaten cake across the table toward Hannah. “Would you like to finish it, dear? My eyes were bigger than my stomach and I know it’s one of your favorites.”

  Despite her best intentions, Hannah glanced down at the cake. It looked moist and delicious, and the scent of chocolate wafted dark and heady in the air. Hannah had the insane notion to utter the words, Vade retro, Satana, undoubtedly prompted by the fact that she’d watched a rerun of The Exorcist over the weekend. She reminded herself that it hadn’t helped Max Von Sydow and it probably wouldn’t help her, either. Her only solution was to move herself out of harm’s way.

  “Thanks, but I’ll pass,” Hannah said, rising to her feet before she could grab the remaining cake and stuff it into her mouth. “Excuse me. I need to find Sally to tell her how much I enjoyed the dinner.”

  After a fruitless search of the dining room, Hannah found Sally in the kitchen. She was sitting at the small desk in the corner, writing out the lunch specials for the next day.

  “Hi, Hannah,” Sally greeted her. “Did you enjoy your dinner?”

  “It was delicious. Do you have any idea how many calories there are in…never mind. I don’t want to know. I was just wondering if you’d served osso buco lately, like over the weekend?”

  Sally shook her head. “I haven’t been able to get a good cut of veal in a month. Why? Did you want some?”

  “I always want some, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

  Sally looked slightly confused for a moment, and then she recovered. “I guess it must have something to do with Rhonda’s murder. You’re investigating, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but keep it under your toque.”

  “It won’t do any good. He’s bound to find out.”

  “He who?” Hannah asked, feeling a bit like a Swiss yodeler.

  “Mike. He always finds out. He’s mad at you for a day or so, and then he gets over it. Why don’t you just tell him now and get it over with? That way he can’t say you weren’t up-front with him.”

  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.

  Chapter

  Nine

  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 furn
ace 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.”