by Joanne Fluke
*The orange zest adds a burst of flavor. Zest is finely grated orange peel, just the orange part, not the white. You can use a grater to scrape peel from an orange, or a zester which removes thin layers of peel in strips. If you use a zester, you’ll have to finely chop the strips of peel with a knife.
LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER
“Maybe I’d better check on Mother. She’s been down there a long time.”
“I’ll go with you.” Norman led the way to the basement doorway. “Delores? Are you all right down there?”
Hannah stood behind Norman, waiting for her mother to respond. When there was no answer, she felt a jolt of fear. “Move over, Norman. I’m going down there.”
“Not without me, you’re not.” Norman had gone down three steps when he stopped abruptly. “Here she comes, now. Back up to give her room.”
Hannah backed up, but she gazed over Norman’s shoulder to watch her mother climb the stairs. Delores didn’t appear to be hurt, but her mouth was set in a tight line. Something had happened in the basement. And judging by the way her mother was gripping the handrail, that something wasn’t good.
“You look like you just saw a ghost,” Hannah commented and immediately wished she hadn’t when her mother’s face turned even paler.
Delores gave a small smile, so small that it could only be classified as a grimace. “Not a ghost. I found…a body!”
Books by Joanne Fluke
CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE MURDER
STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE MURDER
BLUEBERRY MUFFIN MURDER
LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER
FUDGE CUPCAKE MURDER
SUGAR COOKIE MURDER
PEACH COBBLER MURDER
CHERRY CHEESECAKE MURDER
KEY LIME PIE MURDER
CANDY CANE MURDER
CARROT CAKE MURDER
CREAM PUFF MURDER
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
A HANNAH SWENSEN MYSTERY WITH RECIPES
LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER
JOANNE FLUKE
KENSINGTON BOOKS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
This book is for The Great Nicky Borzoi
We miss you, boy.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to Ruel, who stops the trucks from getting through.
Thanks to our kids, who know that the cookie jar is bottomless.
Thank you to our friends and neighbors:
Mel & Kurt (our gardening angels), Lyn & Bill, Gina, Jay, Bob M., Amanda, John B. & Walt, Dr. Bob & Sue, and everyone who asked for that fifth cookie.
A huge thank-you to my editor, John Scognamiglio, for his talent, his constant support, and his encouragement.
And thanks to all the good folks at Kensington who help Hannah Swensen bake up a storm.
Thank you to Hiro Kimura for his delightful cover art. Lemon pie never looked so good…or so menacing. A big hug for Terry Sommers and her Wisconsin family for critiquing my recipes. (I may have to forgive you for preferring the Packers.)
My thanks to Nicole, who tests my cookies in Illinois, and to Mom and Betty Jacobson, for their lemon pie tips. Kudos to Jamie Wallace for making MurderSheBaked.com a great Web site.
And a big thank-you to all my e-mail friends who share their thoughts, their baking tips, and their love for Hannah Swensen and Lake Eden, with me.
I’ve included an extra cookie recipe for you.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Baking Conversion Chart
Chapter
One
H annah Swensen was startled awake at four forty-seven in the morning. Two feral eyes were staring down at her. She batted out at them and they vanished, leaving an accusatory yowl floating in their wake.
“This is my pillow, not yours!” Hannah muttered, retrieving it and settling it in, under her head. But before she could close her eyes for the few precious minutes of sleep that remained until her alarm clock blared, guilt set in. She’d never slapped out at Moishe before. Her orange and white tomcat had taken enough abuse while he was living on the streets. His left ear was torn and he was blind in one eye, a reminder of how he’d once fought to survive. In the time since Hannah had invited him in to share her condo, they’d become friends. Now that friendship was in jeopardy. If worse came to worst, Moishe might never trust her again.
“I’m sorry, Moishe. Come here and I’ll scratch your ears.” Hannah patted the sheets, hoping for feline forgiveness. “I’d never really hurt you. You should know that by now. You just scared me, that’s all.”
There was another yowl, a bit less irate this time, coming from the floor by the foot of her bed. Hannah patted the sheets again and she felt a thump as Moishe landed on the mattress. All was forgiven and that made her feel good, but now that she was wide awake, her neck began to twinge with a vengeance. Moishe must have commandeered her pillow shortly after she’d gone to bed and now she was paying the price of his comfort. The only cure for her sore neck would be a long hot shower before she went to work.
“Fine. I’m up,” Hannah grumbled, reaching out to flick off her alarm. “I’ll get your breakfast. Then I’ll shower.”
Once she’d found her slippers, Hannah padded down the hallway to the kitchen. She flicked on the light and opened the window to catch any early morning breezes that might be lurking outside her condo complex, but only warm, muggy air greeted her. Lake Eden, Minnesota, was in the middle of an unseasonable heat wave, unusual weather for the tail end of June, and the nights were almost as hot as the days.
Moishe took up a position by his food bowl and gazed at her expectantly. His tail was flicking back and forth like a metronome, and Hannah wondered idly whether she could attach a fan and harness all that energy.
“Patience is a virtue,” Hannah muttered, quoting her mother. Then she remembered that the admonition hadn’t worked on her, either. “I’m getting your breakfast right now, even before my first cup of coffee. If that isn’t an apology, I don’t know what is!”
Moishe’s tail continued swishing as Hannah went to the broom closet and opened the padlock she’d installed on the door. Some people might think that the padlock was overkill, but Moishe got insecure every time he could see a bare patch at the bottom of his food and he wasn’t shy about helping himself from the mother lode. Tired of sweeping up spilled kitty crunchies, Hannah had attempted to secure her stock by several unsuccessful methods. Moishe had conquered a bungee cord, a new heavy-duty latch, and a hook-and-eye fastener. When her determined feline roommate wanted food, he turned into a regular Houdini. No lock could stop him for long.
Once Moishe was crunching contentedly, Hannah poured herself
a cup of coffee and headed off to the shower. Today was Friday and it promised to be a busy day. Not only was Friday Pie Day at The Cookie Jar, Hannah’s bakery and coffee shop, she had to fill an order for five batches of Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies. The order had come from a Minneapolis caterer and the cookies were for a wedding reception.
Hannah and her partner, Lisa Herman, had mixed up the cookie dough before they’d locked up the previous night. Hannah would bake the cookies and then the pies, Lemon Meringue this week, before Lisa came in at seven-thirty. It was Lisa’s job to decorate the cookies with the initials of the bride and groom, “PP” for Pamela Pollack and “TH” for Toby Heller.
After a few minutes under the steaming spray, Hannah’s neck pain had faded into a dull ache. Since the KCOW weatherman had predicted that today could be one of the hottest days of the summer, she decided to wear her lightest-weight slacks, the ones she’d chosen last summer on a rare shopping trip with her sister, Andrea. Hannah stepped into the slacks and struggled as she attempted to pull them up. Even with the zipper wide open, she couldn’t get them past her hips. They hadn’t been this tight when she’d tried them on in the dressing room!
Hannah eyed her straining slacks balefully. She’d gained weight, a lot of it. It was bad enough being the tallest one in her petite family and the only daughter who’d inherited her father’s unruly red hair. Now she was also overweight. It was time to go on a diet whether she liked it or not.
Visions of an endless stream of salads with low-cal dressing danced through Hannah’s head as she peeled off the slacks and rummaged in the closet for a pair with an elastic waistband. Jogging was out. She hated it and she didn’t have the time anyway. Joining a gym wasn’t possible, either. The nearest gym was out at the mall and she’d never drive out there to use it. As much as the prospect sickened, she’d just have to limit her intake of food. It was the only possible way for her to shed the weight she’d gained.
Hannah turned to glance at the bathroom scale. She knew it was only her imagination, but it looked coiled and ready, like a rattlesnake set to strike. She told herself the sensible thing would be to weigh herself now, to see how much she needed to lose. She even took a step toward the scale, but she stopped when her heart began to pound and her palms grew damp. When was the last time she’d stepped on the scale? It had to have been at least six months ago. Perhaps she should diet for a week and then weigh in. That way the shock wouldn’t be so severe. At least coffee didn’t have calories. She’d have another cup and decide later about when she should weigh herself.
The hands of her apple-shaped kitchen clock were approaching five-twenty by the time Hannah finished her third cup of coffee. She refilled Moishe’s food bowl and poured the rest of her coffee into the car carrier Bill Todd, her brother-in-law, had given her two Christmases ago.
“’Bye, Moishe. Be good while I’m gone,” Hannah said, giving him a scratch under the chin and then slinging her saddlebag-sized purse over her shoulder. “I may be condemned to lettuce for supper, but I promise that you’ll get a big bowl of…”
Hannah broke off in mid-sentence as the kitchen wall phone rang. It had to be her mother. No one but Delores would call her this early. For a fleeting second, Hannah thought about letting the answer machine pick up, but her mother would just track her down later, perhaps at an even more inconvenient time. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable.
The phone pealed a second time and Moishe turned his back on it, sticking his haunches in the air and flicking his tail. Hannah laughed, amused at his antics. Delores was not one of Moishe’s favorite people. She was still laughing as she grabbed the phone and answered, “Hello, Mother.”
There was silence on the other end of the line and then Hannah heard a chuckle, a male chuckle. “I’m not your mother.”
“Norman?” Hannah plopped her purse on the kitchen table and sat down in a chair. Norman Rhodes was one of her favorite people and she dated him occasionally. “What are you doing up this early?”
“I always get up this early. I wanted to catch you before you left. Hannah, I need a favor.”
“What is it?” Hannah asked, smiling as she pictured Norman. She could hear water running and she knew he was making coffee in his mother’s kitchen. Norman wasn’t what most people would call handsome, but Hannah liked his looks. He had the kind of face people instinctively trusted.
“Will you reserve a big table at the rear of The Cookie Jar for me at nine-thirty this morning?”
“I can’t,” Hannah said with a grin.
“Why not?”
Hannah laughed outright. “Because I don’t have any big tables. They’re all the same size. How about if I push two together for you?”
“That’d be fine. I’ve got some exciting news, Hannah.”
“Really?” Hannah glanced up at the clock. She was running late, but that was all right. The pies wouldn’t take long. She’d baked the crusts before she’d left work yesterday, and all she had to do was cook the filling and put on the meringue. She wanted to talk to Norman. She’d just work a little faster when she got to her cookie shop.
“I made an offer on a house and it’s been accepted.”
“You bought a house?” Hannah hadn’t had an inkling that Norman was in the market for a house.
“That’s right, and I want to sign the papers this morning before the seller changes her mind. I got a really good deal on the Voelker place.”
“That’s wonderful,” Hannah said, hoping that Norman knew what he was getting into. The Voelker place was a wreck. It was on a nice piece of land overlooking Eden Lake, the body of water that was within Lake Eden’s city limits, but the house hadn’t been modernized in over six decades. “Are you going to remodel it?”
“It needs too many improvements for that. I just bought it for the land. I’m going to tear it down and build our dream house.”
Hannah wondered if she’d heard him correctly. “Did you say our dream house?”
“That’s exactly what I said. I’m talking about the one we designed for that contest we won. Those plans were perfect, Hannah. It’s a great house and it’ll be a real showplace.”
Hannah was speechless, a real rarity for her. She’d helped Norman design the plans and she’d been ecstatic when they’d won the contest. They’d split the prize money and she now had a window air conditioner in her kitchen at The Cookie Jar, eight new ceiling fans that had been mounted in the coffee shop, and new shelving that was being installed in her pantry. Their dream house was a great house, but Hannah had never in her wildest imaginings thought that Norman would actually build it! What was he going to do rattling around in a four-bedroom, three-bath, split-level home anyway?
A frown appeared on Hannah’s brow. Certainly Norman wasn’t planning on living there alone. Had he assumed that she was going to marry him without bothering to ask? And if he wasn’t about to propose to her, did he have someone else in mind?
“I guess I must have shocked you,” Norman said with a chuckle. “You’ve never been quiet for this long before.”
Hannah nodded, even though she knew that Norman couldn’t see it. “You shocked me, all right. I can’t believe you’re actually going to build it.”
“Well, I am. Living with Mother is a real pain. Every time I leave the house, she asks me where I’m going and what time I’ll be back. I know she means well, but she can’t seem to accept that I’m an adult.”
“I know that feeling,” Hannah sympathized. Carrie Rhodes had been attempting to control Norman’s life ever since he’d come back to Lake Eden to take over the family dental business. “Was your mother upset when you told her that you were moving out?”
“She doesn’t know yet. I’m going to tell her at breakfast this morning. She’s been complaining about how they need more storage space for Granny’s Attic and I’m sure she’ll be glad to get all of my stuff out of her garage.”
Hannah clamped her lips firmly shut. Why shatter Norman’s illusions? It was true that
Granny’s Attic, the antique shop their mothers had opened, needed more off-site storage space, but that wouldn’t keep Carrie from being upset. Hannah was sure she’d be fit to be tied that Norman had made a decision without consulting her.
“I still can’t believe how I lucked into the house. You knew that Rhonda Scharf inherited it, didn’t you?”
“I knew,” Hannah said. Rhonda was a regular on the Lake Eden gossip hotline and everyone in town knew about her inheritance. The day after her great-aunt’s will had been read, Rhonda had come into Lake Eden Realty and listed the house with Hannah’s sister, Andrea. “Does Andrea know that you bought the house?”
“Of course. Rhonda called her last night and Andrea advised her to accept my offer.”
“Well…that’s good,” Hannah said, wondering why Andrea hadn’t called to tell her. What were sisters for if they didn’t share news like that?
“I told everyone to meet me at The Cookie Jar. There’ll be four of us, and I thought you could be a witness. You will, won’t you?”
