by Joanne Fluke
“Just put down a question mark. I’ll know what it means.”
Hannah made a big question mark and underlined it. “We only have one suspect and that’s a question mark. Who else do you want to add?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll call you later when I’ve had a chance to think about it.” Delores slid off the stool and headed for the door. “You don’t have to be anything except my sounding board, dear. Since you told Mike you wouldn’t get involved, I’ll solve Rhonda’s murder all by myself.”
“Do you really think you can do it?” Hannah couldn’t resist asking.
“Of course. I’m an intelligent woman and I love solving puzzles. I’ll find out who killed Rhonda. Trust me.”
Hannah stared at the door as it closed behind Delores. In her experience, only people who didn’t know what they were doing said “trust me.” Perhaps she was grossly underestimating her mother’s crime-solving abilities, but Hannah had doubts about trusting the woman whose VCR had been flashing twelve A.M. for the past four years.
“I still can’t believe she’s dead,” Lisa said, reaching into her purse and pulling out her car keys. It was already five-thirty and she’d stayed an extra half hour to help Hannah finish mixing up dough for the next morning. “Did you know it was Rhonda when you told me about it?”
“I suspected it was, but I didn’t want to say until they made a positive identification.”
“And you’re still not going to investigate?”
Hannah shook her head. “Mike and Bill don’t need me and I have things of my own to do.”
“Well…if you change your mind, I’ll take over the workload.”
“Thanks, Lisa.” Hannah flashed her a smile. “Now get out of here so you have time to change clothes before your date.”
Once Lisa had left, Hannah rinsed off the things they’d used and stacked them in the industrial dishwasher. The brochure that had come with the dishwasher claimed that there was no need for pre-rinsing, but old habits died hard. She was about to pour in the detergent when there was a knock at the back door.
“Hannah?” Norman’s voice carried through the door. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”
Hannah set the detergent on the counter and hurried to the door to let him in. “Hi, Norman. I just ditched the last of the coffee, but I can offer you a cookie.”
“No, thanks. I gained some weight and I’m trying to take it off. No more snacking between meals.”
Hannah eyed Norman closely. He didn’t look like he’d gained an ounce. “How many pounds are we talking about here?”
“Three.”
Hannah came very close to losing it. Three pounds were hardly worth going on a diet. She had almost seven times more to lose.
“What?” Norman asked. “You look angry about something.”
“That’s because I have more weight to lose than you do. And I’m not really angry. This is my regular I’m-on-a-diet expression.”
“Why are you dieting? You look great to me.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“I never just say anything. And I think people should look real, not like fashion models.”
“But you think the models are attractive, don’t you?”
Norman shrugged. “Sure. But I wouldn’t want to date one, if that’s what you mean.”
“Why? They’re really glamorous.”
“I know, but that’s not a big selling point for me. I think women should look like…well…women. They shouldn’t look like starving teenagers.”
Hannah found herself feeling better by the minute. Perhaps she wasn’t that overweight after all. Both Lisa and Norman had said that they didn’t think she had to lose weight.
“I came to ask a favor, Hannah.” Norman abruptly switched gears. “Mother called earlier and I know the body in the basement was Rhonda. I want you to investigate her murder.”
Hannah blinked. Norman really ought to beep when he reversed directions like that. “Why do you want me to investigate?”
“Because you’re good at it. And because I have a vested interest.”
Hannah sighed. Not the vested interest thing again! Norman was echoing her mother’s reasoning. “Is it because you saw Rhonda’s body and you feel a certain obligation?”
“Not really. It’s just that the sheriff’s department roped off the whole house as a crime scene and they won’t let me tear it down until the case is solved. I’ve got the demolition crew coming on Saturday and I really hate to cancel. Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I’m on a tight time schedule. If I don’t start building before winter comes, I’ll have to wait until the spring.”
Hannah felt her stress level rise and she squelched the urge to grab a cookie. Her mother wanted her to investigate and now Norman was climbing on that bandwagon. What was a girl to do?
“Mike and Bill don’t want me involved,” Hannah said, not meeting Norman’s eyes. Her excuse sounded weak, even to her.
“That’s never stopped you before. Come on, Hannah. I’m asking you as a friend. After all, it’s our dream house.”
“I know,” Hannah said. It was their dream house and a little digging around could do nothing but help Mike and Bill. She loved the blueprints they’d made together and she wanted to see their house built almost as much as Norman did.
“Then you’ll do it?”
Hannah considered her options and discarded them one by one. She could bow out and risk alienating her mother and Norman, two of the most important people in her life. Lisa would be disappointed in her, too. She’d offered to take over the workload and that meant she wanted Hannah to investigate. Mike and Bill wouldn’t be happy if she got involved, but they were the only ones. And wasn’t there something about the greater good? Pleasing three people was more important than pleasing only two.
“At least think about it,” Norman urged, reaching out to take her hand. “This is very important to me, Hannah.”
“It’s important to me, too. Give me some time, Norman. I’ll think about it tonight and let you know what I decide in the morning.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Norman stood up and smiled at her. “I know you’ll do the right thing. You always do.”
It was a good exit line and Norman took it, going out the door without another word. Hannah was left in a thoughtful mood as she started the dishwater, did her nightly check of the exits, and made sure everything was securely locked. Once that was done, she loaded up the leftover cookies and placed them in a box. She was just carrying it to the back door when the telephone rang.
Hannah groaned. She had a good notion to walk straight out the door and lock it behind her, but it was difficult to ignore a ringing phone. She set the box she was carrying on a stool and walked over to pick it up. “The Cookie Jar. This is Hannah speaking.”
“What are you doing there so late?”
It was Andrea and Hannah sighed. “I was just about to leave, but the phone rang.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hold you up.”
“That’s okay,” Hannah said, starting to grin. “I had to come back to answer the phone anyway.”
“No, you didn’t…I mean…That doesn’t make any…You’re kidding me, right?”
“Right.” Hannah laughed out loud. Andrea’s sputtering reaction was even better than she’d hoped for. “What did you want to tell me?”
“Two things. I couldn’t get your pillow at CostMart, because they were all out. They’re getting more in, but not until later in the week. I made them give me a rain check so you’ll still get the sale price.”
“Thanks, Andrea.” Hannah was grateful. She probably wouldn’t have thought to ask for a rain check. “What’s the second thing you had to tell me?”
“Mother called and she told me she was going to investigate Rhonda’s murder.”
“That’s true. She told me the same thing.”
“You’ve got to talk her out of it, Hannah. You’re older and she’ll listen to you.”
; “No, she won’t. She’s never listened to me.”
“Just try it. Tell her she can’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“Because Mother doesn’t know anything about investigating murders, and all she’ll do is mess up the case for Bill and Mike. She might even get into trouble.”
“That’s possible,” Hannah agreed.
“And that’s why you have to talk her out of it. I don’t want Mother to get into trouble. Just tell her that you’re going to take over and she’ll back right off. That’s what she really wants anyway.”
Hannah sighed deeply. “I know.”
“Then it’s all settled and you’ll investigate?”
“Nothing’s settled. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“But you have to do it. Say you will, Hannah. I have a vested interest.”
“Everybody seems to have a vested interest. Mother wants me to investigate because she found Rhonda’s body and she feels obligated. Lisa wants me to investigate because she likes to take over the workload. And Norman wants me to investigate because Mike and Bill won’t let him tear the Voelker place down until the case is solved. What’s your vested interest?”
Andrea was silent for a moment. “It’s not as important as theirs.”
“What is it?”
“I want you to investigate because I’m bored and I want to help.”
“How can you be bored when you’re building The Cookie Jar float?”
“I already took care of that.”
“You mean it’s all finished?”
“Not exactly. But when Janice Cox saw my plans, she volunteered to build it. Tracey’s classmates and the people at the Senior Center are helping her.”
Hannah chuckled. Andrea was a master at delegating authority. Janice would end up doing all the work and she’d never realize what had hit her. “What’s the float like?”
“I’m keeping that a secret until the morning of the parade. By the way, I talked to Mayor Bascomb and he wants our float to lead off the parade, right behind his convertible.”
“Really?” Hannah was surprised. Usually that honor went to the oldest business in town.
“It’s all arranged. Now I need something else to do. This inactivity is driving me crazy. I just know I’ll get horribly depressed if you don’t let me help you investigate.”
“But even if I do decide to investigate, I can’t let you help me.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re pregnant and murder investigations are dangerous.”
“I know, but I’m not talking about going along with you, or anything like that. I can make calls and gather information. You’ll let me do that, won’t you?”
“Sure,” Hannah said, responding once again to the pleading note in her sister’s voice. It was the very same note that had convinced her to return her sister’s library books, help her with her homework, and bake cookies for her friends. “You can help me if I decide to investigate.”
“You will. You won’t be able to resist. Besides, Bill wants you to.”
“Really?” Hannah took that with a grain of salt. Andrea tended to hear only what she wanted to hear. “What makes you say that?”
“When he called me to tell me about Rhonda, he said this case would be different since you weren’t involved.”
“And that made you think he wanted me to investigate?”
“Absolutely. He sounded sad when he said it and I read between the lines. Bill wants your help. I’m sure of it.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
“What shall I do first?” Andrea asked, sounding eager.
“You’re jumping the gun. I haven’t decided to do it yet.”
“But you will and we might as well get started. Give me some phone calls to make. I’m sitting on the couch with my feet up because that’s what Bill wants me to do, but I’m right next to the phone.”
Hannah was about to say she couldn’t think of any calls for Andrea to make, when she remembered the two takeout dinners that had been in Rhonda’s trash can. “Grab the Yellow Pages and make a list of the restaurants in a ten-mile radius of the Voelker place. Call them and ask if they served takeout dinners over the weekend. When you get a yes, ask if their menu included osso buco.”
“Got it. Why do you need to know?”
“There were two containers of osso buco in Rhonda’s trash can.”
“Two?”
“That’s right, but one wasn’t touched. I figure Rhonda must have been expecting company. There were also two plastic wineglasses with dried red wine in the bottom. The person she invited showed up, but didn’t eat.”
“That doesn’t matter. The fingerprint guys should be able to get a print off the wineglass.”
“No, they can’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because they don’t have it. The garbage truck came before Mother found Rhonda’s body and I tossed out the bag.”
Andrea groaned. “That’s bad luck! What are the chances of the garbage truck showing up on the very day Mother finds Rhonda’s body?”
“One in seven. They pick up every week. But that’s why I need you to check out that takeout.”
“Okay. Don’t worry, Hannah. I won’t mention it to Bill, since we’re already on top of it. And just as soon as I find that restaurant, I’ll call you at home and tell you.”
After Hannah hung up the phone, she retrieved her box of day-old cookies. She was just opening the back door when her phone rang again.
“I don’t care who you are, I’m not going to answer,” Hannah snapped, turning on her heel and walking out. She was going home to Moishe and her boring vegetable salad. Her caller could just call back when she opened in the morning.
The air outside was hot and humid, nearly eighty degrees with a moisture content to match. As Hannah walked the short distance to her truck, she heard the grumble of thunder in the distance. The blacktop in the parking lot was spongy under the soles of her shoes, and she felt the perspiration break out on her skin.
The sun was still up and Hannah knew all about the greenhouse effect. She opened the driver’s door of her truck, reached in to stick her key into the ignition, and pushed the buttons to lower all the windows. Her leftover Chocolate Chip Crunch Cookies would be mush if she didn’t cool off the interior of her truck. Judging by the brief moment her arm had been inside the truck, it was almost as hot as her oven.
Thunder sounded again, low and rumbling like the growl of some predatory beast. Hannah stood there with the cookie box balanced in her arms and thought about the melting point of chocolate. Who would want to eat a mushy Chocolate Chip Crunch Cookie? Even if it was free? She stashed the box in the back of her truck, grabbed the bag that contained the Chocolate Chip Crunches and marched back inside The Cookie Jar to put it in her walk-in cooler. Driving home with chocolate in the back of her truck was too much of a temptation anyway. She’d give the bag to Jed and Freddy when they came in to finish the pantry shelves in the morning.
Hannah was just sliding into the driver’s seat when her mother’s car pulled into the lot. Delores parked behind her, so she couldn’t back up, exited her car, and rushed up. “I’m glad I caught you! Sally’s serving coq au vin tonight and I’ll take you out to dinner.”
Hannah’s hand froze near the ignition. Delores knew her weak spot and she wasn’t shy about hitting it. Coq au vin was one of Hannah’s favorite entrées at the Lake Eden Inn.
“We need to discuss my murder investigation. I told Carrie all about it and she wants to help.”
“Oh, joy,” Hannah muttered. Carrie had been itching to get involved in her last three murder cases.
“Don’t be like that. Carrie knows everybody in Lake Eden and she’ll be a valuable resource. Besides, I’m picking up the tab for dinner. When do you want to go?”
The thunder was growing louder by the minute and Hannah recognized a handy excuse when she heard it. “I’d love to join you and Carrie, but Moishe always gets
a little crazy when it thunders. He’ll tear up the sofa if I don’t get home in time to turn up the volume on the television set.”
“That’s not a problem. You go on home and I’ll call Sally. I’ll make reservations for eight and pick you up at seven-thirty.”
Hannah bristled. Her mother always wanted to be in control of everything. “I don’t need anybody to pick me up. I have my own transportation.”
“That’s fine,” Delores smiled. “You can meet us there. Make sure you wear something appropriate, dear. You never know who you’ll run into and it’s always smart to look your best.”
Hannah thumped her fist on the steering wheel as her mother climbed back into her car and drove away. She’d had no intention of going out to dinner with her mother, but she’d been outmaneuvered. As she put her truck into gear, Hannah vowed not to use this as an excuse to break her diet. All she had to do was stay away from the delicious things like sauces, and Sally’s homemade rolls, and her yummy twice-baked potatoes, and the confections on the dessert cart. With all those restrictions, she’d probably end up with meat and a salad, but at least she wouldn’t have to fix it herself.
Chapter
Eight
D riving from her condo to the Lake Eden Inn took twenty minutes and even though it was seven-thirty in the evening, there was no need for Hannah to turn on her headlights. Only a week had passed since the summer solstice and June twenty-second was the longest day of the year. Darkness wouldn’t fall for another two hours and the summer sun was still slanting through the branches of the pines that lined the lakeshore, creating a venetian-blind effect on the dusty gravel of the road. Only the shadows were lengthening. When they reached a proportion longer than the height of the trees that teamed with the lowering sun to create them, they would take on a bluish hue. As night fell, their color would deepen to purple and then to velvety black.
Hannah switched off her air conditioner—it never cooled down her truck adequately anyway—and lowered all her windows to enjoy the breezes that blew across the lake. She’d have to brush her hair again when she got to the Lake Eden Inn, but driving with the windows down was pleasant. She’d dressed for dinner in a wraparound skirt, a sleeveless cotton blouse, and the leather thong sandals she’d purchased during her college years. They were made of water buffalo hide and no longer imported, but political correctness wasn’t one of her top priorities. The water buffalo in question had died long ago and giving up her favorite pair of sandals wouldn’t bring him back to life.
