Banana Cream Pie Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “Admirable.” Maybe Bascomb nodded and turned back to Hannah. “And how are you, Hannah?”

  “Just fine, thank you. I’m not sure you know this, but Michelle is working for the Lake Eden Players. The college has sent her here to direct the Thanksgiving play.”

  “Wonderful!” Mayor Bascomb smiled at Michelle. “I’d forgotten that you were a drama major. I’m happy to hear that our traditions will be upheld. Lake Eden has had a Thanksgiving play for the past twenty-seven years.”

  “And the play is the reason I came to see you today, Mayor Bascomb,” Michelle said quickly. “Your sister did such a wonderful job with the production that it shouldn’t really be a problem to wrap up a few loose ends and perform it.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Mayor Bascomb assumed an expression that was both grateful and sorrowful.

  Hannah knew it was mean of her to even think it, but she wondered if he had practiced that same expression in front of the mirror to make sure it reflected the emotions that he wanted to convey.

  “My older sister, Victoria, was a very talented and generous person.”

  “She certainly was!” Michelle agreed, and Hannah knew that her youngest sister had glommed onto the word generous and would use it to the advantage of the Lake Eden Players.

  “Her generosity is certainly something I’ve encountered in the short time I’ve been their director.”

  “How so?” Mayor Bascomb asked.

  Hannah felt like cheering. Ricky-Ticky had waltzed right into Michelle’s trap.

  “She ordered new makeup for the production and it’s the best that money can buy. It’s even more expensive than the makeup we use in Macalester College theatrical productions.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that. The Lake Eden Players deserve the best.”

  Hannah wanted to cheer for a second time. The teeth of Michelle’s trap had just clanged shut.

  “They certainly do deserve the best. They’re working so hard on this production, Mayor Bascomb. I’m very proud of them. But we do have a slight problem.”

  “What’s that, Michelle?”

  “Your sister promised to write a check for the makeup invoice and she . . . well . . . she didn’t get to it before she . . .” Michelle stopped and brushed a tear from her cheek.

  Hannah stared at her sister in shock when she realized that a very real tear had begun to roll down Michelle’s other cheek.

  “It’s so very sad,” Michelle concluded.

  “Well . . . yes, it’s very sad. And I’d love to help you out . . . but there’s a slight problem.” Mayor Bascomb paused and Hannah could see him go on the defensive. “I’m sorry about this, Michelle. I’d write a check immediately, but probate has to be settled before . . .”

  “Oh no, Mayor Bascomb!” Michelle looked properly shocked. “I didn’t mean that at all! We’re holding a bake sale to pay for the makeup, and we’re even selling tickets to a pie eating contest on Saturday afternoon.”

  Hannah could see Mayor Bascomb visibly relax and he smiled at Michelle kindly. “What a good idea! I’ll be sure to pass the word to everyone, Michelle.”

  “Thank you, Mayor Bascomb! I was hoping you’d say that. If you mention it, I’m sure that people will come. And perhaps I shouldn’t even ask, but . . .”

  Hannah watched in amazement as Michelle stopped speaking and a blush rose to her cheeks.

  “What is it, Michelle?” Their mayor smiled at her kindly.

  “Well . . . I know it’s a lot to ask, but . . . would you possibly consider being a contestant in our pie eating contest?”

  “I . . . well . . . I’m really not . . .” Mayor Bascomb equivocated.

  “Wait!” Michelle interrupted what was sure to be a refusal. “Let me tell you about the contest before you say anything else. It’s not going to be one of those pie-in-your-face awful contests you see on television. And by the way, KCOW will be televising it.”

  “Really?” Mayor Bascomb began to smile. “Tell me more about this contest, Michelle.”

  Hannah bit the inside of her cheek to keep from chuckling, as Michelle continued. “There won’t be any hands tied behind your back or anything undignified like that. Each contestant will be given a spoon and they’ll have one to two minutes to eat as much pie out of the pie plate as they can. Then the judges will inspect the pie plates and declare the winner. Of course, the winner will be featured on the front page of the Lake Eden Journal in their Sunday edition.”

  “Really! A spoon, you say? And no hands behind the back?”

  “That’s right. I certainly don’t want to embarrass any of our Lake Eden citizens.”

  “Of course not. That’s very perceptive of you, Michelle.” He still hadn’t agreed and Hannah held her breath. Had Michelle planned for this?

  “There’s something else, Mayor Bascomb. The Lake Eden Players are planning a small tribute to your sister right after the Thanksgiving play. It’ll take place during our curtain call and . . .” Michelle stopped and sighed. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you and Mrs. Bascomb consider announcing the names of the players as they come out, one by one, to take their curtain calls? It’ll be something like an award show with both of you standing at the podium and calling out the names.”

  “They’ve never done that before!”

  “I know. It’s always been a regular curtain call when the whole cast comes out, people applaud, and the curtain goes down again. This time I thought we should make it special. And if you and Mrs. Bascomb announce the names of the players, it would be just wonderful! I’ll be happy to prepare a script with all the character names and the names of the people who play them. And then, if you’ll agree to do it, you could give a short speech about what a wonderful actress and director your sister was and how proud she’d be that the Lake Eden Players are dedicating their performance that night to her.”

  “That’s very nice!” Mayor Bascomb looked impressed. “Do you think that KCOW Television will be there for the curtain call, too?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve already talked to them about that. Everyone loves to see you on television, Mayor Bascomb. And Mrs. Bascomb is a celebrity, too.”

  Michelle had said the perfect thing and Hannah came very close to losing it. Mayor Bascomb was a media hound. It was like Ross had told her. Whenever there was a camera, you could count on Mayor Bascomb to give a sound bite.

  “You can count me in, Michelle. And I’m sure Stephanie will agree to stand at the podium with me. After all, we’ve always been patrons of the arts. And not only that, it’ll give me a chance to practice the speech I’ll be giving when I accept the award honoring Tori at the Stage and Theater Actors Guild the following week in New York.”

  “That’s wonderful, Mayor Bascomb. Please be sure to mention that on the night of the play. I’m sure everyone in Lake Eden will watch you accept your sister’s award.”

  “I’m sure they will.”

  Hannah bit the inside of her cheek again to keep from laughing. Their mayor was definitely not humble.

  “I think this will be an excellent fundraiser for the Lake Eden Players,” Mayor Bascomb continued. “Stephanie and I will be delighted to help in any way we can.”

  “Thank you, Mayor Bascomb!” Michelle looked properly grateful. “This is so kind of you. I’m going to rush right out and tell everyone how wonderfully supportive you’ve been.”

  * * *

  “Good heavens!” Hannah said on their way out the front door of city hall.

  “Good heavens what?”

  “Just good heavens! Your performance in the mayor’s office deserved an Academy Award. Are you sure you don’t want to be an actress instead of a director?”

  Michelle turned to look at Hannah in surprise. “I don’t want to be a director, or a producer, or an actress. I want to own and manage a theater. That’s why I’ve been taking business classes in addition to my drama major.”

  “But why? I saw you in there and you’re very good. That tear was amazing.�
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  Michelle shrugged, but Hannah could tell she was proud of herself. “It amazed me, too. I wasn’t sure I could do that on command. But think about it, Hannah. Everyone wants to be a performer. And everyone wants to be a director or a producer. Unless you’re really good and you happen to hit it at just the right time, you can’t earn a decent living that way. I’d rather do something more business oriented. It might be a dinner theater, or a cabaret, or some kind of niche thing that attracts a lot of customers. And if that doesn’t fly, I can always make a living with my business degree.”

  “I understand,” Hannah said. “That’s very level-headed of you, Michelle.”

  “Thank you. I’m a dreamer, Hannah. If something big came my way, I’d take it. But I’m also a realist.”

  “Yes you are,” Hannah said. And then she realized that she no longer had to worry about Michelle’s future. Her baby sister had her head on straight. “By the way, Michelle . . . were you just hoping when you told Mayor Bascomb that the pie eating contest and the curtain call would be televised? Or did you actually call KCOW and get them to agree?”

  “I went straight to the top. I called P.K. in New York and asked him to ask Ross and let me know. I figured Ross would be the one to make that decision because he’s the head of special programming.”

  “So you already talked to Ross about it?”

  “No, just P.K. He got back to me during rehearsal and told me it was a go.”

  “Do you know if Ross got a chance to visit the business management firm that Tori used?”

  Michelle shook her head. “Sorry, Hannah. I didn’t even think to ask him that. Ross will call you, won’t he?”

  “I’m sure he will.” Hannah approached her cookie truck and hesitated. “Are we going back to The Cookie Jar now?”

  “I guess so. Since Marge and Aunt Nancy are there, I’ll stay with you in the kitchen and help you bake.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Hannah smiled at her. “How do you feel about trying something new?”

  “New is good. What did you have in mind?”

  “I’ve got an idea for a cookie using Cheerios. There’s no reason they wouldn’t work. Cheerios are made with oats and we use oatmeal in some of our cookies. I thought I might use Cheerios with cherries and call them Cheery Cherry Cookies.”

  “Catchy.” Michelle began to smile. “I like it.”

  “Great. You can help me in the kitchen today and then, tomorrow, we’ll bake a bunch of cookies for your bake sale and you can help me make the Banana Cream Pies for the pie eating contest. I have no idea how to do it. Most of those pies I’ve seen on televised contests don’t seem to have crusts.”

  “That’s right. Why don’t we just put the filling in a disposable pie pan and cover it with your caramel whipped cream. Then the contestants can eat it with a spoon.”

  Hannah considered it for a minute. “Good idea. That’ll be really easy to make and to transport to the school. How long shall we give them to eat it?”

  “I told the mayor it would last between one and two minutes, but I really don’t know how long it should be. What do you think?”

  “I think you were right on track. It shouldn’t last any longer than two minutes, and it could be as short as one minute. That’s a long time to eat banana pudding and whipped cream as fast as you can, and that’s all our pies will be without crusts. We’ll have to get a really loud buzzer, or a bell, or something like that.”

  “I’ve got that covered already. I checked with the gym teacher and the school has a big time clock they use for timed athletic events. We can borrow it and set it on the judges’ table so everyone who’s watching can see it, too. At the end of the time, it buzzes really loud. Then we’ll have the judges inspect the pie plates and declare the winner.”

  “Perfect.”

  “I think we need three judges. Who do you think I should ask? Mother had some good ideas for the contestants, but I didn’t ask her about the judges.”

  Hannah considered that for a moment before she gave her opinion. “I’m not sure, but it should be someone who’ll draw a big crowd. Since you’re selling tickets to the contest, you should decide that today and have Rod put it in the paper. Let’s go ask Mother to see who she suggests. She’s only a block away.”

  “Is she home?”

  “We won’t know unless we call her. And we’re practically on her doorstep. Call her, Michelle. And ask her if she’s receiving.”

  “Receiving?”

  “Yes. She’ll get a kick out of that. It means receiving visitors and that’s what they called it in Regency days. You dropped by the manor and the butler brought out a silver salver for your calling card. He took it to the lady of the house and she either received you, or he came back to say that she was not available for callers.”

  “And now all we have to do is call on our cell phone and say, ‘Hey, are you home?’”

  “That’s right. Everything’s a shortcut in today’s world.”

  “I know,” Michelle agreed. “Mother would argue that the old world was more civilized.”

  “Perhaps, but I don’t think she’d enjoy using the convenience in the backyard of the manor house.”

  “Is a convenience an outhouse?”

  “Yes, and it probably wasn’t as convenient as the one Grandma Elsa had on her farm.”

  Michelle laughed out loud. “You’re right. I remember going out there before they got indoor plumbing. Grandma Elsa’s was heated in the winter.”

  “And she had a fan in the summer,” Hannah reminded her. “I remember tripping over that extension cord she ran from the house and skinning my knee.”

  “And I remember how cold it was to walk out there in the winter. But I really loved to go to the farm. Grandma Swensen always baked cookies for us and let us help her. Do you think that’s why we enjoy baking so much?”

  “I think that has a lot to do with it. Call Mother and we’ll leave the truck here. It’s not too cold today and we can just walk over there if she’s home.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Thirty minutes later, Hannah and Michelle walked in the back door of The Cookie Jar. After they’d hung their coats on the rack, Michelle headed straight for the kitchen coffeepot, and Hannah grabbed the thick, plastic-coated recipe book and took a stool at the workstation.

  Michelle walked over with a cup of coffee and placed it in front of Hannah. “Drink this. You’re looking tired.”

  “I am,” Hannah admitted, “but I got more sleep than I usually do. I just don’t understand it.”

  “It’s taking a while to solve this murder. Maybe that’s it. Do you feel that you’re spinning your wheels?”

  “Yes. That could be it, Michelle. I’m doing everything I can, but I’m not catching a break anywhere.”

  “It could also be because Ross isn’t here. I’m sure you must miss him.”

  “I do miss him. It’s probably mostly because we were together twenty-four seven for a solid week. And now it’s like I’m back to being single again.”

  There was a knock on the back kitchen door and Michelle began to grin. “Just what you need . . . a diversion of some sort. Shall I go let it in?”

  Hannah laughed. “Yes, but don’t call it it. It’s got to be someone we know and they might take offense.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Michelle said, giving Hannah a saucy look. “I’ll go see who it is.”

  “Norman!” Hannah said a few moments later when she saw who Michelle was ushering into the kitchen. “Sit down and have a cup of coffee with us.”

  “I could use a cup of coffee now that I’m through for the day,” Norman told them. “Two root canals, a broken crown, and an impacted wisdom tooth make for a long afternoon.” He sat down next to Hannah and gave her a little pat on the shoulder. “How are two of my favorite Swensen sisters?”

  “We’re fine,” Hannah said noticing that he hadn’t used her married name. Of course, Norman was technically right. She was still a Swensen sister, married or not.


  “Change that to I’m fine,” Michelle told him. “Hannah’s tired and depressed.”

  “About your investigation?” Norman asked her.

  “Yes.” It was the easy answer and Hannah took it. “Except for Tori’s business manager, and that’s really a long shot, I’m fresh out of suspects.”

  “How about the man with the black tennis shoes?” Norman asked her. “Did you find out any more about him?”

  “Only that he was involved with Tori, but we already knew that since he broke into her apartment to find the love letter, or note, or whatever it was that he’d written to her.”

  “But you don’t think he did it, do you?” Michelle asked Hannah.

  “No, I don’t.” She turned back to Norman. “Remember how he almost talked to her as if she were still there in the bedroom with him?”

  “I’ll never forget it,” Norman said. “It was one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard. I think he was genuinely grieving for her.”

  “That’s part of it. And he didn’t sound guilty when he talked to her. He didn’t say, I’m sorry, or, Please forgive me, or anything that would indicate guilt. I just don’t think he acted or sounded like the kind of man who could walk into her condo and shoot her in cold blood.”

  Norman gave a nod. “I think you’re right about that.”

  “Yes, you’ve definitely got a point,” Michelle agreed. “Usually murders between two people who have loved each other are done in the heat of passion and not premeditated.”

  Hannah turned to her younger sister in surprise. “You sound like you’ve been reading up on violent crime.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Michelle admitted. “I took a night class last semester.”

  Norman looked shocked. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of going into law enforcement!”

  “Oh, no. I’m definitely not considering that as a career choice. This class was taught by a psychology professor and it was called Why People Kill. It went into motives and things like that, and I was hoping it would give me something to talk about with Lonnie.”

  “And did it?” Hannah asked her.