Apple Turnover Murder, Key Lime Pie Murder, Cherry Cheesecake Murder, Lemon Meringue Pie Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  Hannah didn’t have to think twice about that. “Great,” she said, giving Norman a grateful smile. He always came through when she needed him. And that was one of the things she loved most about him.

  “Hi, Hannah!” Michelle greeted her oldest sister at the door. Her face was devoid of makeup, and she was wearing cut-off jeans and a Macalester College T-shirt. “What have you got?”

  “Chocolate cherry coffeecake. Where’s Mother?”

  “In Dad’s old office. She’s using it now. She said she had some work to do on her computer.”

  “What work?”

  “I don’t know. I asked, but she said it was personal.”

  Hannah frowned as visions of e-mail romances with prison inmates danced through her mind. “Is she on-line yet?”

  “No. The cable company’s going to have free installation on their high-speed Internet access next month. She told me she’s waiting until then.”

  “Good! I mean…I just didn’t want her to start something with…” Hannah stopped, not quite sure how to phrase what she’d been thinking.

  “Weirdos, perverts, and creeps?” Michelle asked. “With a few con artists thrown in?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much. I think Mother learned a lot from what happened last spring.”

  “I hope so! It just makes me so mad that somebody tried to take advantage of her!”

  “Me, too. But it’s over now, and Mother’s smart enough not to fall for somebody like that again.” Michelle gave Hannah a little shove toward the office that Delores was using. “Do me a favor, okay?”

  Hannah knew better than to agree without knowing what Michelle wanted. “That depends on what it is.”

  “It’s snooping. I tried to see what Mother was working on, but she’s got one of those privacy screens. One keystroke and all you can see is a bouquet of flowers, or pine trees in a snowy forest. See if you can find out what she’s working on. I just hate it when people say that it’s personal and they won’t tell you what it is.”

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” Hannah agreed. And then she headed down the hallway to see if she could figure out what secret their mother was hiding.

  “Mother?” Hannah called out, tapping on the door and then opening it without waiting for an invitation.

  “Hello, dear.” Delores looked up when Hannah came into the room. “Sit down and wait just a moment, will you? I really need to finish this paragraph.”

  “Sure. Michelle said you were working on something personal.” Hannah sat down in the old leather chair that had been moved to a spot near the window. It had been her dad’s desk chair, but Delores had replaced it with a smart-looking model upholstered in blue tweed. It was clear at a glance that her mother’s new chair rolled, reclined, and swiveled, while the old leather chair merely sat there.

  “That’s right.”

  “I’m curious. What is it?”

  “Nothing you’d be interested in, dear.”

  Delores went right back to typing, and Hannah gave a little sigh. She’d struck out. So much for being forthright. She’d have to think of some other way to find out.

  “You were always the best speller in the family,” Delores said, pausing with her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Recommendation has one c and two m’s, doesn’t it?”

  “Recommendation?” Hannah repeated, not sure she’d heard her mother correctly.

  “That’s right. Yes or no, dear.”

  “Yes,” Hannah said, and then she spelled it out. “Are you writing a letter of recommendation for someone?”

  “No, dear. Just give me a moment more and I’ll be through.”

  Hannah’s curiosity reached new heights. Her mother had told Michelle it was “personal,” and it wasn’t a letter of recommendation. Asking politely hadn’t worked, and she’d promised Michelle that she’d snoop if she got the chance. Feeling a bit like someone cheating on an exam, Hannah craned her neck to try to see her mother’s computer screen. Unfortunately she was off-axis, and all she saw was a faintly lighted screen. She inched slightly to the side to get a better view, not an easy task with a heavy desk chair that didn’t roll, but the only thing she could make out was faint lines of double-spaced type. It was definitely not a letter. Letters were single-spaced.

  “Almost through, dear,” Delores said, her fingers beating a staccato rhythm on the keys.

  Hannah gave a lurch, and the chair slid another inch to the side. That was better! She could almost read something! She was leaning forward, squinting to make out the words, when a huge bouquet of flowers replaced the words on the screen.

  “It’s time for a break,” Delores stated, leaning back in her chair. “You looked a bit upset when you came in the door, dear. Does it make you sad to see me using your father’s office?”

  “A little,” Hannah admitted.

  “That’s what I thought. You spent a lot of time in here with him.”

  “You got a new desk chair.”

  “Yes. I tried using his, but it just wasn’t right for me. So I ordered a new one, and then I kept thinking of what he’d say if he saw me replacing his desk chair. I was going to give it to charity. It’s really too big for this small room. But…I couldn’t just throw it away. He spent so much time in here, sitting in that chair. Sometimes when I’m working late, I’ll turn, and for just a second I think I can see him there. Is that crazy?”

  “No, that’s love. And memories.”

  Delores blinked several times, and then she gave a little smile. “You’re right. But I really do need to put a file cabinet in here, and there won’t be room with that chair. Would you like to have it?”

  Hannah was tempted. She’d always associated that leather desk chair with her father. Then she thought of her condo and how it was already full to the brim with other things that Delores had given her. “I don’t think so, Mother. I’d like it, but I don’t have anywhere to put it.”

  “That’s what I thought. I’ll ask Andrea and Michelle, but I don’t think they’ll want it, either. And I really hate to just…toss it.”

  “I don’t want you to just toss it, either. Do you think it’d help if we found it a good home?”

  Delores thought about that for a moment. “I think it would. Do you have any prospects in mind?”

  “Not really, but I’ll think about it and…Norman!”

  “Norman?”

  “He might want it. His new house has an office, and as far as I know, he doesn’t have any furniture.”

  “Oh, that would be perfect!” Delores looked delighted. “I’d like to give it to Norman.”

  “Even if I don’t end up marrying him?” Hannah couldn’t help asking.

  “Even if you don’t. When can you ask him if he wants it?”

  “I’ll ask him tonight. He’s waiting for me at my condo. I’m going to help him pick out a dishwasher.”

  “That’s wonderful, dear.”

  Delores gave another smile that rang alarm bells in Hannah’s mind. Her mother seemed much too pleased about the fact that she was helping Norman pick out kitchen appliances. “It’s just a dishwasher, Mother. It’s not any more than that.”

  “That’s all right, dear. Good marriages aren’t made overnight. Your father and I dated for several years before we married.”

  Hannah bit her tongue. Sometimes it was better not to say anything.

  “Is that for me, dear?” Delores asked, glancing at the foil-wrapped package Hannah still held in her arms.

  “Yes. It’s the chocolate cherry coffeecake that took third place at the baked goods competition tonight.”

  “It sounds marvelous! I’ll have some when I take my next break. And that reminds me…you don’t have anyone staying in your guest room, do you?”

  “No.” Hannah readied herself for a major imposition. Her mother had mentioned something about a cousin three times removed who’d wanted to visit Lake Eden.

  “Oh, good. Would you mind terribly if Michelle stayed with you?�
�

  “You mean…our Michelle?”

  “Yes. It’s just that I’m so busy right now. I really don’t have much time to spend with her, and poor Michelle must be lonely with only the television for company. I thought it might be more fun for her if she…”

  “That’s fine, Mother,” Hannah agreed, before Delores could continue. “I’d love to have Michelle stay with me.”

  “Wonderful! Go out there right now and have her pack up her things. Tell her she can use my car for the week. Then she’ll have her own transportation, and you won’t have to drive her around.”

  “But won’t you need your car?”

  “No. The only place I’m going is out to the fair, and I can ride with Carrie. We signed up for the same hours at the booth.”

  “All right, Mother.”

  “Tell her to come in and say goodbye before she leaves. I’d come out, but I still have several more pages to write before I’m through, and then I need to get some sleep. I’m burning the candle at both ends to get everything done.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell her.” Hannah stood up, but before she could take a step, her mother stopped her.

  “It’s not that I don’t want her, dear. Make that clear, will you? It’s just that with working at Granny’s Attic and supervising the booth at the fair, I don’t have time to get things done around here. And that reminds me…you are going to be at the Historical Society booth from eight to closing on Saturday night, aren’t you?”

  Hannah took a deep breath and stifled the complaints she wanted to make. She’d agreed to help out in the Lake Eden Historical Society booth when her mother had asked, assuming she’d be passing out literature and taking contributions. But Delores had tricked her. What Hannah had really agreed to do was sit on a stool in a frilly dress while contributors threw balls at a target that would open a trapdoor and dunk her into a vat of cold water.

  “Hannah?” Delores prodded.

  “Yes, Mother. I said I would and I’ll be there.”

  “Thank you, dear. And thank you for the coffeecake. I’ll have a piece when I take my next break. Chocolate and cherries are my favorite combination.”

  “I know,” Hannah said. And then she headed out the door to tell Michelle that she was being transplanted from her mother’s guest room to Hannah’s guest room in the condo, and she didn’t have the slightest idea what their mother was writing.

  Chapter Six

  Hannah woke up with a cat on her head. Moishe had climbed up in an attempt to wake her so she’d shut off the alarm. When she didn’t sit up quickly enough, he batted at several unruly curls that were sticking out over her ear. And when that didn’t work, he gave an ear-splitting yowl that made his wishes abundantly clear.

  “Okay, okay,” Hannah groaned, reaching out with one sleep-leaden arm to depress the alarm button on the clock. But the clock wasn’t where it was supposed to be, on the table right next to her bed. The bedside lamp wasn’t there either, and Hannah encountered a perfectly smooth surface. What was going on?

  Moishe yowled again, and Hannah realized that what she’d heard wasn’t her alarm clock at all. It was coming from the television, and the clock belonged to a starlet whose face she didn’t recognize. Hannah watched for a moment through partially closed eyes. She’d fallen asleep on the couch last night during Casablanca. Since this wasn’t a young Ingrid Bergman, Hannah figured she was at least one, probably two features past her bedtime.

  The starlet reached out to turn off the alarm clock and climbed out of bed with the sheet wrapped around her like a toga. As she walked across the bedroom set and disappeared through a door, Hannah wondered if anyone had ever pulled the sheet off the bed for modesty’s sake while they were alone in their bedroom. It seemed silly. You’d just have to remake the bed from scratch.

  After one glance at the time, which was subtly displayed at the lower right-hand corner of the screen, Hannah clicked off the television with the remote control. It was almost four-thirty in the morning. Since she always set her alarm clock, the one in her bedroom, to go off at a quarter to five, it seemed silly to go to bed for fifteen minutes and count the seconds she had left before it was really time to get up.

  A compelling scent wafted in from the kitchen to help Hannah make up her mind. The timer on her coffee pot had activated, and her morning brew was ready.

  “Coffee,” she pronounced in a voice that was midway between a groan and a prayer. She needed caffeine, and she needed it fast, before the specter of another hot, muggy day would drive her to turn on the window air conditioner the former owners had installed in the bedroom and sleep until the unseasonable June heat wave headed east, or west, or anywhere far away from Lake Eden, Minnesota.

  Hannah stood up and shivered slightly. She’d fallen asleep in her favorite summer sleep outfit, an extra-long, extra-large tank top in such an eye-popping shade of magenta that she hoped Moishe’s vet, Dr. Hagaman, was right and cats truly were color-blind. Not only was her sleepwear the wrong color choice for anyone with red hair, it was plastered to her skin in a manner her mother might call decidedly unladylike.

  “Okay, I’m up,” Hannah declared to the orange and white tomcat who still wore the scars of his former life on the streets. She tugged her tank top back into place, got to her feet with what she thought was a minimum of groaning, and headed off to the kitchen. “Just let me pour a mug of Swedish Plasma and then I’ll get your breakfast.”

  But Moishe didn’t follow her into the kitchen as he usually did. He didn’t even move from the back of the couch where he’d perched. And then everything came back in a rush of memory, and Hannah recalled why she’d been sleeping on the couch. She was worried about Moishe. He wasn’t eating. And she’d wanted to wake up and take note if she heard him crunching his food in the middle of the night.

  Hannah had just poured her first, life-giving mug of coffee when she heard a voice that seemed to be coming from inside her condo.

  “Is Moishe okay?” the voice asked.

  Even in her sleep-deprived state, Hannah recognized that voice. It was Michelle, and she was staying in the guest room.

  “Don’t know yet. Want coffee?” she managed to say, anything other than Pidgin English eluding her.

  “I’ll get it. Just sit there and drink yours. Do you know your eyes aren’t open all the way?”

  “No.”

  “What time did Norman leave?”

  “No numbers.” Hannah took a giant swig of coffee and felt it burn all the way down. It was worth it if it lifted the curtain of fog from her mind. “Never good at math in the morning.”

  “I’m sorry I asked. Take another sip of your coffee. I won’t bother you again until you finish that mug.”

  Hannah finished her coffee in several large, near-scalding swallows and held out her mug for more. By the time Michelle had set it on the table in front of her, the mists of sleep were starting to depart and she had glimpses of clarity. “Okay,” she said, giving her youngest sister a little smile, mostly because Michelle’s sleep outfit, a green cotton nightgown with miniature cows grazing all over it, was even more ridiculous than hers. “What did you ask me before?”

  “I asked if Moishe was all right.”

  “I’m not sure. I think I heard him eating something in the middle of the night, but that could have been wishful thinking.”

  Michelle set her own mug down on the table and walked to Moishe’s food bowl. “How full was it last night?”

  “It was up to the brim. It was even mounded a bit in the middle. I wanted him to have plenty if he got hungry and wanted a midnight snack.”

  “Well, it’s not mounded on top anymore.”

  “Really?” That information got Hannah out of her chair to join her sister at the food bowl. “You’re right. He definitely ate some kitty crunchies.”

  “So you can stop worrying?” Michelle followed Hannah back to the table and sat down across from her.

  “I’m not sure. He didn’t eat very much. He usually cleans h
is bowl during the night and yowls for more in the morning.”

  “How about water?”

  “He’s drinking. His water dish was full, too. He drank about half, and that’s what he usually drinks.”

  “That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

  “I think so. It’s just not like him to turn down food. You saw what happened when Norman tried to give him fried chicken last night. He loves fried chicken, but last night he just sniffed it and walked away.”

  Michelle leaned to the side so that she could see into the living room. “I think you’d better take him to the vet, Hannah. He’s sitting on the back of the couch again, just staring out the window. Maybe it’s just the hot weather and he doesn’t feel like eating much, but you’ll never forgive yourself if it’s something serious and you didn’t have Dr. Bob check him out.”

  “You’re right. This is Tuesday, isn’t it?” When Michelle nodded, Hannah glanced at the clock over the table. It was five-fifteen, much too early to call for an appointment. “I’ll take my shower now, and I’ll call Sue at home at six.”

  “Isn’t that kind of early?”

  “Not really. Tuesday’s their half day and they’re open from seven to noon. That means they’re bound to be up if I call them at home at six. If I can get Moishe in right away at seven, I can run him back here and still get to work by eight-thirty.”

  Michelle shook her head. “You can get to work by seven-thirty. I’ve got Mother’s car and I’ll follow you to town. I can bring Moishe back here with me and you can go straight to work.”

  It was six-twenty when Hannah pulled up in the parking lot behind the Lake Eden Pet Clinic. When Michelle pulled into an adjoining parking space, Hannah picked up the bag of cookies she’d brought, grabbed Moishe’s leash, and got out of her cookie truck.

  “Do you want me to carry something?” Michelle asked.

  “All I’ve got is Moishe and the cookies. Moishe would rather walk on his own, and since you haven’t had breakfast yet, I’m not sure I should trust you with the cookies.”