Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen Mysteries)

by Joanne Fluke

  “No problem,” Norman said, rising to take her arm. “Come on, everyone. Just follow me and I’ll show you to your seats.”

  Hannah was surprised as Norman led her through the crowd. They usually stood up to watch the parade. Then she saw the row of folding chairs that had been set up near the curb. Their names were printed on signs hanging from the backs, and Hannah felt like an honored guest as she took the chair with her name.

  “This is a great idea, Norman.” Hannah smiled over at him.

  “Thanks,” Norman said, glancing down at his watch. “Only five minutes to go. I’d better get my camera ready.”

  There was flurry of activity as Lisa dispensed her disposable cameras and told everyone how to use them. She’d just finished when the vintage convertible carrying Mayor Bascomb and his wife rounded the corner. He was wearing a white straw boater with red, white, and blue ribbons around its brim, and she was dressed in a white dress with red and blue stripes. The parade had begun. The Cookie Jar float would be next.

  Hannah applauded as the boys and girls from Tracey’s class marched around the corner. They were wearing sandwich boards shaped and colored like cookies, and each one was carrying a white wicker basket lined with red and blue paper napkins. As Hannah watched, they scattered into the crowd, offering the patriotic cookies that Hannah had baked and Lisa had decorated.

  “They’re darling,” Hannah said, snapping a picture of Bertie Straub as she accepted a cookie from one of Tracey’s classmates. “Whatever you do, Norman, don’t miss getting a shot of Tracey.”

  “I won’t. Andrea already cued me in. I’m supposed to catch her at the apex.”

  “What apex?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The applause grew in volume and Hannah turned to look as two Jordan High students rounded the corner carrying a sign that read FIRST-PLACE WINNER .

  “I told you we’d win!” Lisa shouted, running over to hug Hannah. Then she rushed over to hug Andrea, and all three of them laughed in excitement.

  The applause grew even louder as Mike’s Jeep began to round the corner. The kids and seniors had draped red, white, and blue bunting on the sides. Mike looked incredibly handsome in a shirt that was printed in an American flag pattern. Hannah’s breath caught in her throat for a moment and her heart raced in her chest. To think that the most handsome man ever to set foot in Lake Eden chose to date her was very close to getting everything on your Christmas list. Reluctantly, she tore her eyes away from Mike and took her first look at The Cookie Jar float.

  Hannah was aware that her mouth had dropped open, but she couldn’t help it. The float was a masterpiece, a giant cookie jar done in red, white, and blue. As Hannah watched, the cover flipped back and Tracey rose from the depths, her smile as wide as Eden Lake.

  “Oh!” Hannah gasped, staring at her niece in awe. Tracey was wearing a Lady Liberty costume, complete with torch and crown, and she was as cute as a button. She started to wave regally at the crowd, but her enthusiasm got the best of her when she spotted Hannah.

  “Hi, Aunt Hannah!” Tracey yelled out. “Do you like it?”

  “I love it!” Hannah shouted back, and then Tracey began to sink slowly out of sight inside the giant cookie jar, reaching up at the last minute to close the lid behind her.

  “Do you really love it?” Andrea asked, looking a bit anxious.

  “It’s completely stupendous, marvelous, and fantastic,” Hannah assured her. “And Tracey looks just adorable. I saw Mike driving, but where’s Bill?”

  “Can’t you tell? Bill’s down in the cookie jar, lifting Tracey up and down against counterweights.”

  “Of course. The mechanics.” Hannah grinned at her sister. “Now I understand.”

  “I knew he’d get the kinks worked out. Tracey’s standing in a box that Bill attached to counterweights. We were going to use hydraulics, but it made too much noise.”

  One by one the floats passed by. Hannah didn’t think any of them could compare to The Cookie Jar float. She applauded with everyone else as the wheelchairs from the convalescent home came into view, the spokes of their wheels decked out with red, white, and blue crepe paper. Even the walkers were decorated with streamers and stars, and Jack Herman led the seniors in his Uncle Sam costume.

  “Didn’t Dad look wonderful?” Lisa asked, racing back from the street where she’d taken her pictures.

  “He looked positively dashing,” Hannah assured her. “Here’s my camera. I used up the whole roll. The last one’s a picture of Mrs. Robbins making eyes at your dad when he picked up the handkerchief she dropped.”

  “Do they still drop handkerchiefs?” Lisa wanted to know.

  “I don’t know, but Mrs. Robbins does. She’s eighty-five if she’s a day, so she might be a little behind the times.”

  The Boy Scouts came next and then Bonnie Surma’s Brownies, followed by the Jordan High marching band. Hannah resisted the urge to cover her ears, especially when they stopped in the middle of her block to play. Their music was slightly less dreadful than before, and they were so enthusiastic, it made up for a multitude of missed notes and individual struggles with the tempo. Thankfully, blessedly, the bandleader had cut the piccolo obbligato and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief.

  Delores, who didn’t know a sharp from a natural, tapped Hannah on the shoulder after they’d finished playing and marched on. “Weren’t they just wonderful?”

  Hannah sputtered for a moment, trying to think of something honest to say. “They improved a lot from last year.”

  Several more floats rolled by, but they couldn’t hold a candle to Andrea’s creation. Hannah applauded for the veterans, resplendent in uniforms that had been retrieved from trunks in dusty attics, and she did her share of clapping for The Lake Eden Players, who were dressed in the costumes they’d wear later for their reenactment of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. When the parade was over and she still hadn’t seen Bridget Murphy’s lemon car, Hannah figured that Cyril had fixed it to save himself the embarrassment.

  “That’s it,” Norman said, folding up his chair. “I’m going to take these back to the funeral home and then I’ll develop the film.”

  “These chairs are from the funeral home?” Hannah asked, not sure exactly how she felt about that.

  “I borrowed them last night. Digger said to take as many as I needed. Professional courtesy, you know.”

  “Professional courtesy?”

  “He keeps hoping I’ll send him some business.”

  “You mean like one of your patients dying?”

  Norman shrugged, but there was a twinkle in his eye. “You know what people say about root canals. They’re killers.”

  Hannah laughed as she helped Norman load the folding chairs in his trunk and she was still grinning when he drove away. Being with Norman always made her feel good. Then she said good-bye to the little group assembled on the sidewalk, went inside The Cookie Jar to help Lisa load up the cupcakes, and headed off to attend the municipal band concert before she drove out to the lake for an afternoon of games and other entertainment.

  Hannah arrived at the area of lakeshore that had been designated for public parking with a smile on her face. The band concert in the park had been wonderful. The Lake Eden Municipal Band was a mixed conglomeration of musicians who had settled in the area. Anyone who wanted to put horn or woodwind in hand and practice every week at the community center was welcome. They’d played their full repertoire of Sousa marches and ended with the ever popular strains of “God Bless America.”

  The town had turned out in full force at Eden Lake and Hannah trolled the parking area in vain for a spot. She finally settled for putting her truck in four-wheel drive and parking at the very edge of the lot, on top of the shoulder of the road.

  Several hours later, after listening to two boring political speeches, attending one of the Lake Eden Players’ performances, and watching some of the games and contests, she wandered over to the picnic area to see if there was a
nything she could do to help Edna Ferguson, who was in charge of the potluck dinner.

  “Hi, Edna,” Hannah said, trying not to stare at the older woman’s hair. Edna’s frizzy gray curls had undergone a transformation since the last time Hannah had seen her. Instead of Edna’s natural steel gray, her curls were now blue.

  “I know. Looks like you-know-what,” Edna said, reaching up to swat at her curls. “Bertie talked me into a rinse the last time I was in and she didn’t tell me it would take weeks to wash out.”

  “It looks very…colorful.”

  “That’s tactful, Hannah, especially for you.” Edna chuckled. “All I need is a couple of red and white bows and I’ll be all decked out for the Fourth.”

  “I came over to see if there was anything I could…”

  “Of course there is,” Edna interrupted her. “You know no one else ever shows up when there’s work to be done. What’s the matter? Those two boyfriends of yours desert you?”

  Hannah laughed. It was a waste of time to take offense at anything Edna said. She was outspoken and everyone knew it. “Not exactly. Mike had to go back to the station and Norman’s home, developing the film he took of the parade. I’m all yours, Edna.”

  “Well good! You’re a lot more help than some people I could name. I suppose your sister’s bringing her Jell-O mold again. None of these young girls know how to cook. They’re not like you and me.”

  Hannah bit back a choice retort. Edna was sixty if she was a day, and that made her at least thirty years older than Hannah. She’d lived in Lake Eden all her life and that gave Hannah an idea, especially since Edna had grown up on the family farm right next to the Voelker place. “You knew Mrs. Voelker, didn’t you, Edna?”

  “Sure, I did. She put up the best peach jam in the county. Everybody around was real sorry when she got in that accident and ended up in the wheelchair. No more peach jam for the neighbors.”

  Hannah nodded, wondering if people would speak of her that way when she was dead, mourning not her, but the loss of her cookies. “Do you remember a boy named Speedy that visited Mrs. Voelker?”

  “Speedy?” Edna started to shake her head. “No, I don’t think…Yes, I do! He was some kind of shirttail relation and he spent a whole summer with her. That boy was a regular fishing fool. He used to race through his chores so he could get down to the lake to fish. That’s why she called him Speedy. Half the time she ended up stripping the cows herself after the morning milking, but she told us he had a hard time at home and she was going to see he had fun for a change.”

  “Do you remember Speedy’s real name?”

  Edna sighed. “Can’t say as I do. I suppose I knew it back then, but that was a long time ago.”

  “Will you tell me if you think of it?”

  “Sure will. So, is she?”

  Hannah blinked. Edna had obviously switched to another topic of conversation. “Is she what?”

  “Bringing her Jell-O mold. Andrea, that is.”

  “Oh!” Hannah switched gears. “Not this time. She’s bringing chips and dip for the appetizer table.”

  “Well, heaven be praised! One less Jell-O bowl to contend with. Why don’t you dump some ice in the bottom of some of those coolers we borrowed so we can refrigerate the things that we have to keep chilled. You didn’t bring a dessert with whipped cream, did you?”

  “Would I do something like that?” Hannah asked, grinning at Edna.

  “No, I don’t guess you would. Marge Beeseman will though. You mark my words. And she’ll put the whipped cream on at home, not leave it in the can the way it said to do in the flyer. And then she’ll complain because it drooped!”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Seven

  “M mm!” Hannah voiced her approval as she tasted the beef Norman had barbecued. “Delicious.”

  “Thanks, Hannah.” Norman, who was sitting on her right side at one of the picnic tables, looked pleased by the compliment.

  “It sure is,” Mike commented from his spot at Hannah’s left side. “I used to do a little barbecuing, but my beef was never this good.”

  “It’s all in the sauce. A cut like this has to be marinated overnight. That way the flavor gets all the way through. It’s not too much garlic for you?”

  “Just right,” Mike said, cutting off another bite. “Any less would be lost and any more would be overdoing it. I’d sure like that sauce recipe if you’re giving it out.”

  “I’ll give it to you. It works on chicken, too. All you have to do is double the mustard and cut back on the grated onion by half.”

  Hannah glanced from one man to the other, trying to keep herself from chuckling. They sounded like a couple of housewives comparing notes and even though they’d both wanted to sit with her, they seemed content to talk to each other and ignore her. She let them talk on, comparing the merits of charcoal over gas and which wood chips were preferable, while she glanced around at the crowds of people who were contentedly stuffing their collective faces.

  The sun was lowering in the sky and Hannah knew she’d have to run back to her truck to get her mosquito repellent. That reminded her that they never bit Norman, and she turned to Mike. “Do mosquitoes bite you?”

  “Mosquitoes?” Mike looked startled, as if she’d pulled him out of the most intriguing conversation of his life. “Sure. They bite everybody.”

  “Not Norman.”

  “Is that right?” Mike leaned in front of Hannah to stare at Norman. “What’s your secret, Norman?”

  Oh-oh. She’d started an all-male conversation again. Hannah sighed and turned back to people-gazing. Freddy Sawyer, dressed in jeans and a blue pullover with a picture of an American Eagle on the front, was leaning against a tree at the edge of the picnic area. Hannah was glad to see him here. Freddy had once told Hannah that the Fourth of July was his favorite holiday and he loved to watch the fireworks. Jed was only a few feet away, talking to a group of people Hannah didn’t recognize. He looked handsome tonight in a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a denim vest that was embroidered with stars and stripes. It looked expensive and Hannah wondered if he’d spent his whole paycheck on it.

  A young woman in the group was flirting with Jed and he smiled at her as she reached out to put her hand on his arm. Although he was clearly flirting back, Hannah was glad to see him turn slightly, so that he could keep Freddy in sight. Jed was taking his responsibility toward his cousin seriously, keeping tabs on him in the crowd.

  Several children in the crowd began to cheer and Hannah turned toward the source of the excitement. The Lake Eden volunteer fire department had arrived in their fire truck. The hook and ladder was followed by one of Cyril Murphy’s dark green rental vans with light green shamrocks painted on the sides. Any child in the crowd old enough to remember the fireworks from the previous year knew that the van contained all the pyrotechnics for tonight’s display.

  Hannah glanced over at the food tables. There were only a few stragglers going back for thirds. It was time to start putting the food away. She stood up, and both men stopped talking and turned to her. “I’m going to help Edna with the cleanup.”

  “Sure,” Mike said.

  “Okay,” Norman echoed the sentiment. “Do you need any help?”

  “No, that’s okay.” Hannah headed off at a speedy clip, but not fast enough to miss hearing another all-male conversation begin. This one was about cars and the various advantages of the latest models.

  By the time Hannah had helped with the cleanup and made a run to her truck to mosquito-proof herself and retrieve her quilt, she saw a fleet of rowboats heading out from the dock. The boats were riding low in the water and Hannah knew that the fireworks had been unloaded from the van and stacked in the bottom of the rowboats for transport to the rafts that would become launching pads. Most people in the tri-county area thought that the Lake Eden fireworks display was the best one around. The town council spent a small fortune every year on fireworks and the display seemed twice as large as it real
ly was when the streamers of bursting colors were reflected off the surface of the lake. She found Mike and Norman on the lakeshore, sitting on the sand and claiming their patch of spectator space. They helped her spread out her quilt and before long the whole extended family had found spaces around them.

  Darkness began to fall. Hannah could see dim lights, one on each of the rafts and more in the rowboats. She was sure that Joe Dietz was out there again this year. A retired warrant officer in Army Ordnance, Joe was in his seventies and he’d been directing the fireworks for as long as Hannah could remember. She spotted Jed moving through the crowd with a blanket roll under his arm. He’d put on a leather jacket over his shirt and vest, and Hannah wished she’d thought to bring hers. It wouldn’t be needed in town, but there was always a breeze near the lake and it could turn chilly when the last rays of sun had faded. For a moment, Hannah was concerned that Freddy was nowhere in sight, but then she remembered the group that Jed had been talking to earlier and how friendly they’d seemed. Freddy and the group were probably sitting on the sand, saving a place for the blanket that Jed had gone to fetch.

  Once the sun had disappeared below the horizon, night fell rapidly. Hannah crossed her legs and sat “Indian style,” a phrase her first-grade teacher had used that was probably now politically incorrect.

  Before Hannah really expected it, the fireworks began with a bang. It was a single bang and it was a loud one, causing her hands to fly up to cover her ears. She jumped, then laughed in delight. The Lake Eden fireworks always started this way, but it never failed to startle her.

  The first loud bang was followed by a rapid series of bangs. Next there was a whoosh as a rocket shot up and burst overhead, raining down streamers of pink that were reflected on the surface of the lake. Hannah cheered with the rest of the crowd and at that exact moment, Norman reached out for her hand. A moment later, as a green blossom of fireworks burst in the sky, Mike reached out for her other hand.

  Hannah sat there, hardly daring to breathe. What was the etiquette in a situation like this? Should she tell Mike she couldn’t hold hands with him because she was already holding hands with Norman? Or should she refuse to hold hands with both of them? Hannah thought about it through another series of rockets and multicolored streamers and came to a decision. Miss Manners was bound to disagree, but since neither Mike nor Norman seemed to be aware that his rival was holding her hand, the best thing to do was relax and enjoy it.