Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen Mysteries)

by Joanne Fluke

  Hannah took a deep breath as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. She’d never been invited to Rhonda’s apartment and it was little strange to be coming here now. It felt like intruding, but Hannah reminded herself that she had a perfect reason to search through Rhonda’s things for clues since she was trying to solve her murder.

  There was a switch by the inside of the door and Hannah flicked on the lights. Rhonda’s apartment was pretty, like something out of a magazine, with color-coordinated cushions on the couch and a bowl of matching silk flowers on the coffee table. The kitchen was immaculate, but that was no surprise since Rhonda had been intending to leave on vacation.

  First things first, Hannah reminded herself, and she went straight to Rhonda’s walk-in closet. She grabbed the first items of clothing that came to hand, a pair of black slacks with an elastic waistband and a light blue pullover sweater. She wasn’t here to scavenge through Rhonda’s clothing unless it had some bearing on the murder, and anything that was dry would do.

  Hannah dropped her own clothes in a heap on the floor and changed to Rhonda’s. Although the pants were too short, they weren’t as tight as she’d expected them to be and Rhonda’s sweater was positively bulky. Perhaps Beatrice was right and she really had lost a ton of weight. She checked the closet, but it contained nothing unusual and she wasn’t interested in the number of outfits in Rhonda’s wardrobe. Then she tackled the dresser drawers, going from top to bottom as fast as she could. She found a pair of socks to wear, but there was nothing else that could possibly relate to Rhonda’s murder.

  The plastic bags were in a holder under the sink and Hannah stuffed her wet clothing into one of them. Then she went through the cupboards and kitchen drawers, learning nothing except the fact that Rhonda owned a set of sterling silver fish knives and she must have been very fond of packaged macaroni and cheese.

  The living room was next. Hannah headed straight for a small desk that Rhonda had placed under the windows. The center drawer was filled with loose receipts, and she sat down in the desk chair to glance through them.

  Nothing caught Hannah’s interest until she found a receipt from Browerville Travel. Not only had Rhonda driven all the way to Browerville to book her flight, she’d lied to Hannah about where and when she had done it. When they’d signed the house papers at The Cookie Jar, Rhonda had said she’d called the airlines and reserved her ticket the previous evening. She’d also said that thanks to Norman, she had enough money to fly to Rome on vacation. But this receipt from Browerville Travel was dated two weeks before Norman had made his offer on the house!

  Rhonda’s lie didn’t seem to make much sense, but Hannah didn’t have time to think about that now. She grabbed the receipt, stuck it into her purse, and went through the rest of the desk drawers. She was down to the last drawer when she discovered another strange item. It was a letter addressed to Rhonda’s great-aunt.

  “Strange,” Hannah mused, staring down at the letter. This was the only item belonging to Mrs. Voelker that she’d found in Rhonda’s apartment. It must be important if Rhonda had kept it and nothing else. Hannah stuffed it into her purse and stood up. One room left to search and she was through.

  Four minutes later Hannah emerged from Rhonda’s bathroom with a frown on her face. Searching Rhonda’s medicine cabinet and bathroom drawers had been a waste of her time. She’d found nothing except a small fortune in cosmetics and time was growing short. Hannah grabbed her things, flicked off the lights, and raced down the stairs to return Beatrice’s key. If she didn’t hurry, she’d have the whole Winnetka Sheriff’s Department and every member of her extended family waiting on her doorstep when she got home.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Five

  H annah got up with a smile the next morning. Since Moishe now had his own down pillow, her neck felt great for the first time in months. It didn’t take long to dress for the Fourth and within the hour, Hannah was in her truck on her way to The Cookie Jar. The weather was gorgeous. Puffy white clouds floated lazily in a bright blue sky and it couldn’t have looked less like rain. After the deluge they’d gotten the previous night, the grass was emerald green and there was a wonderful fresh scent in the air, the same scent candles and room fresheners attempted in vain to duplicate.

  As Hannah drove through town, she noticed that everyone had gone all out for Independence Day with flags, banners, ribbons, and other patriotic items. Even the tall pine that served as the town Christmas tree in Lake Eden Park was decked out with red, white, and blue streamers.

  By seven forty-five, Hannah arrived at her parking spot. She unlocked the back door and stepped inside, sniffing appreciatively as a welcome aroma wafted out to greet her. Lisa had put on the coffee. But where was her car?

  “Happy Fourth, Hannah!” Lisa came in from the coffee shop before Hannah had time to look for her.

  “The same to you. Where’s your car?”

  “I left it down at the Senior Center. Herb gave me a ride here. Pour yourself a cup of coffee and go sit down in the shop. I’m going to make you a low-cal breakfast.”

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee was enticing and Hannah was only too happy to do as she’d been told. She filled a mug, carried it to her favorite table, and took a seat facing the plate-glass window. The street outside fairly sparkled in the sunlight. Mayor Bascomb had ordered every inch of the parade route swept clean last night. Since the street was roped off, there was no traffic and nothing to watch. It was too early for spectators to gather and the only thing moving was a family of birds in the tall pine across the street.

  Hannah sipped her coffee for a few moments, but she’d never been any good at sitting still for long. This was the perfect time to check out the receipt and the letter she’d found in Rhonda’s desk.

  One glance at the clock and Hannah decided to tackle the receipt first. The toll-free number for the airlines shouldn’t be terribly busy this early. She retrieved both items from her purse and carried the receipt behind the counter where she could use the phone. This would take some fancy talking, but she’d taken several lessons on that subject from Andrea. She’d say she was calling for Rhonda, who’d missed her flight because of a sudden death in the family. That part was the truth. And then she’d fudge a little by saying that Rhonda wanted to rebook her ticket with exactly the same accommodations. If she got lucky, the airline employee would tell her all the facts about Rhonda’s ticket when he or she rebooked the flight.

  It took ten minutes, but at last Hannah hung up the phone and walked back to the table to take a huge swig of coffee. The information she’d been given was startling, to say the least. Nothing Rhonda had told her was true. She’d booked a one-way ticket, not a round-trip. And she’d been flying to Zurich, not Rome.

  Hannah stared out the window at the silent street. No wonder Rhonda had gone to Browerville Travel! She hadn’t wanted anyone in town to know that she was leaving for good or where she’d gone.

  Hannah thought about that to the faint sounds of pans clattering from the kitchen. A few moments later, she caught the hint of a delectable aroma and her mouth began to water. She didn’t know what Lisa was cooking, but it certainly smelled delicious.

  “Our float looks gorgeous,” Lisa said, pushing the door open and sticking her head in the coffee shop. “Unless the judges are blind, we’ll win first prize.”

  “I didn’t know they were awarding prizes.”

  “Neither did I. Janice Cox said they decided to do it at the council meeting last night. The first-place float gets a hundred dollars, second place gets fifty, and third place gets twenty-five. Hold on a second. I have to flip something.”

  The door swung closed and Hannah was left with a gaping mouth. If they won, what would they do with the money? By the time the door opened and Lisa appeared again, she’d decided. “If we win, I think we should split the money between Kiddie Korner and the Senior Center. They did all the work.”

  “Perfect,” Lisa said, smiling her approval. “That’s exa
ctly what I thought we should do. There’s one more thing I have to tell you. Andrea said that more robbery money surfaced last night. It’s only a little over four hundred dollars, but someone is definitely spending it in Winnetka County. Excuse me for a minute. I think these are ready.”

  Lisa disappeared again and Hannah leaned back in her chair. She still didn’t know whether the robbery money had anything to do with Rhonda’s murder case, but the possibility couldn’t be dismissed out of hand.

  “Breakfast is served,” Lisa called out, coming through the swinging door with two plates in her hands. She served Hannah first, then sat down across from her.

  Hannah glanced at her breakfast. “These look like pancakes with sliced peaches.”

  “That’s right.” Lisa handed her the container with packets of non-calorie sweetener. “Sprinkle a little sweetener over the top. They’re really good that way.”

  Hannah tore open a packet and sprinkled it on top of the stack. Then she cut off a piece of pancake and tasted it. “They’re wonderful, Lisa. When you said low-cal, I thought I’d be getting cottage cheese for breakfast.”

  “You are.”

  Hannah blinked. “These have cottage cheese in them?”

  “That’s right. My Aunt Kitty used to make them every time somebody in the family was on a diet.”

  “They’re delicious.” Hannah took another forkful and smiled as she chewed and swallowed. “Thanks, Lisa. This is a real change from all those cold salads and bowls of plain cottage cheese. Are you sure they’re diet food?”

  “I’m sure, but you can make them into regular food, too. Aunt Kitty used to serve them with sour cream and jam on the top. When she did that, she called them Poor Man’s Blintzes. I’ll give you the recipe if you want it.”

  “I’d love to have it,” Hannah said, taking another bite.

  They ate in silence for several minutes, polishing off the last of the pancakes. When they were through, Lisa pointed at the letter on the table. “What’s this?”

  “It’s a letter to Mrs. Voelker that I found in Rhonda’s apartment.”

  Lisa looked surprised. “Mike and Bill let you search Rhonda’s apartment?”

  “No, Beatrice Koester did. She told me to go through Rhonda’s things to see if there was anything I needed. The relatives in Colorado didn’t want anything.”

  “That was a lucky break for you,” Lisa said with a grin. “Did you find anything else interesting?”

  Hannah told Lisa about the receipt from Browerville Travel and Rhonda’s one-way ticket to Zurich. “And that explains why Rhonda wasn’t upset when Jon fired her. She wasn’t planning to come back anyway.”

  “What does the letter say?”

  “I haven’t read it yet.”

  “You’d better read it. It could be something important.”

  “I know. I just feel funny about reading someone else’s private mail, that’s all.”

  “Then throw it away.”

  “I can’t throw it away without knowing what it says!”

  “Then read it.” Lisa looked amused. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill, Hannah, and that’s not like you at all. If the contents are private, don’t tell anyone about them. But if it’s important, you can turn it over to the right person.”

  “You’re right, of course.” Hannah drew the letter out of the envelope before she could dither about it any longer. She unfolded the single sheet of tablet paper and began to read. As she skimmed the words, she let out a little cry of distress.

  “What is it?” Lisa leaned forward in concern.

  “It’s a tragedy,” Hannah said, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

  Aunt Kitty’s Cottage Cheese Pancakes

  (Poor Man’s Blintzes)

  2 cups cottage cheese

  4 eggs

  ½ teaspoon salt

  ½ cup flour

  Mix cottage cheese, eggs, salt, and flour together in a small bowl. Let the mixture “rest” in the refrigerator for an hour (overnight is fine, too).

  Heat a nonstick griddle to 350 degrees F., or use a frying pan that’s been sprayed with nonstick cooking spray. (The frying pan is ready when a drop of water sizzles and “dances” across the surface.)

  Spoon pancake batter in pan or on griddle and fry until the bubbles on the surface of the pancake remain open. (You can check to see if the bottom side is done by lifting the edge with a spatula.) When the bottom side is a nice golden color, flip the pancake over and cook until the bottom color matches the top.

  Place the finished pancakes on a plate, sprinkle artificial sweetener over the tops and add sliced fruit of your choice.

  Poor Man’s Blintzes

  Mix up the pancakes as directed and fry them. When they’re done, spread each pancake with butter and sprinkle with sugar. Top with spoonfuls of jam, add a generous dollop of sour cream, and enjoy.

  Yield: 8 medium-sized pancakes.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Six

  H annah cleared her throat and began to read the letter aloud. “I wish I was back in Lake Eden with you right now. They say I’m not going to make it and the guy next to me is going to find someone to take this letter out and mail it to you.”

  “He’s dying?” Lisa whispered as Hannah looked up.

  “That’s right. What makes you think this letter is from a man?”

  “It sounds like he’s in a hospital and they don’t usually put a man and a woman together in one room.”

  “Good point,” Hannah said and turned back to the letter again. “Thank you for being nice to me when I was a kid. You were the only one who played games with me. Remember the one where you hid those notes and sent me all over the house to find them? You always started with the cookie jar and that sent me to the grandfather clock, or the Bible. You taught me to read with those clues. I never would have learned in school. And you always made sure I found the prize at the end.”

  “I know that game,” Lisa said. “Go on, Hannah.”

  “ I just wanted to tell you that I love you. If you get this letter, I didn’t make it. Keep putting up that peach jam of yours. It was always my favorite. And please say a prayer for me when you do it. ”

  “That’s so sad,” Lisa commented, blinking away the tears that had gathered in her eyes. “Who sent it?”

  “Someone named ‘Speedy.’ That’s got to be a nickname. I don’t know who Speedy is and anyone who might have known is dead.”

  “Where did the letter come from?”

  Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know. I can make out part of the date, it’s nineteen eighty-something, but the rest of the cancellation is blurred.”

  “Well, at least Speedy had happy memories of his time in Lake Eden. He talked a lot about the Treasure Hunt game.”

  “That’s what it’s called?”

  “That’s what we called it. Mom used to play it with me every year on my birthday. She hid clues all over the house and she told me where to find the first one. When I found it, I read it and it told me where to find the second clue. There were always at least ten clues written out and when I came to the end, it told me where I’d find my birthday present.”

  Hannah felt jealous for one brief second. Delores had never played the Treasure Hunt game with her. But that was in the past. “Thanks for telling me about it, Lisa. It sounds like fun.”

  “It was. Do you want me to set out the rest of the day-old cookies? People might be hungry when they come in.”

  “Good idea.” Hannah stuffed the letter back in her purse and shivered slightly. She’d just read the last words of a dying man, written to a woman who’d been dead and buried for months. To make things even more depressing, she’d found the letter in a murder victim’s apartment. There was only one thing to do to turn her mood around. Normally, she would have eaten some chocolate. That was the best antidote for depression. But since chocolate wasn’t one of the food groups allowed on her diet, Hannah did the next best thing. “Hold on and I’ll help you,” she said,
levering herself up from the table and heading off to the kitchen to work.

  By the time her extended family had arrived, Hannah was in much better spirits. They sat eating cookies, drinking coffee, and chatting until almost everyone who’d said they were coming had arrived.

  “The only two missing are Mike and Bill,” Hannah commented, turning to Andrea. “Where are they?”

  “Oh, they’re not coming. They’re helping with The Cookie Jar float. Mike’s towing it with his Jeep and Bill’s taking care of the mechanics.”

  “The mechanics?”

  Andrea looked contrite. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want you to know anything about the float ahead of time.”

  “I don’t. And you didn’t actually say anything.”

  “You’ll understand what I meant once you see it. I got the idea from the animated floats they build for the Rose Parade. It’s really a terrific concept.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Hannah said, but she had to work to keep the smile on her face. If The Cookie Jar float was anything like the floats in the Rose Parade, Andrea had taken on a project that was much too difficult for a group of preschoolers and seniors to handle. It was bound to be a disaster, but it was too late to back out now and she was going to say she loved it, no matter what happened. She owed it to her sister.

  Andrea reached out to squeeze her arm. “Don’t look so worried, Hannah. It’ll be great, you’ll see. It was almost working when I left to come here.”

  “Great. I’m sure it’ll be perfect.” Hannah pushed back her chair. “The crowd’s lining up out there. We’d better claim a piece of sidewalk before all the good spots are taken.”