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

by Joanne Fluke

  “Oh. That’s different. For a minute there, I thought…never mind. Why does Norman need that particular pen?”

  “He’s signing some papers this morning and he wants to use it for sentimental reasons. He just bought a house.”

  “Norman bought a house? Which house? Where?”

  “It’s the Voelker place. He’s going to tear it down and build our dream house on the land.”

  “What dream house?”

  “The one we designed for that contest we won. You remember, don’t you?”

  “Of course. You showed me the blueprints. But that house was huge, wasn’t it?”

  “Four-bedroom, three-bath.”

  “But a house like that is much too big for…” Delores stopped speaking and gasped. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Hannah?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “Then you’re not considering any life-altering changes?”

  Hannah glanced at the clock and frowned. “The only life-altering change I’m considering is ripping the phone off the wall so I can make it to work on time.”

  “Oh. All right then, dear. I’ll make it short. I called because I have some wonderful news. Michelle is coming home.”

  “She is?” Hannah started to smile. Her youngest sister had just finished her freshman year at Macalester College and Hannah hadn’t seen her since Christmas. “When is she coming?”

  “On Tuesday night. She doesn’t have to go back until Sunday. The Drama Department is moving to a new building and all the student workers have the week off. She’s coming in on the eleven o’clock bus and she wants to stay out at the lake cottage.”

  “But I thought you had it rented out for the entire summer.”

  “I did, but Andrea worked something out with the renters. I’m staying out there with Michelle, of course. A girl her age still needs supervision.”

  Hannah grinned, imagining Michelle’s reaction to that bit of news. She wouldn’t be happy that her idyllic lake vacation would be graced by her mother’s presence.

  “I was hoping you could pick her up at the Quick Stop and bring her out to the lake. I have an important decorator coming in that night and Carrie can’t handle her alone. And after that, I have to run straight out to the cottage to get things ready. I’ll barely have time to make up the beds and hang the towels before Michelle’s bus comes in.”

  “No problem,” Hannah reassured her. “I’ll meet the bus.”

  “Thank you, Hannah. I knew I could count on you. I’ve got to run. Carrie’s picking me up in five minutes and I still have to fix my hair. We’re doing the front window display this morning.”

  Hannah was smiling as she hung up the phone, not her usual expression after a conversation with her mother. It would be good to have Michelle home again.

  By seven-thirty, Hannah had accomplished a lot. There were a dozen Lemon Meringue Pies in the ovens and she’d baked all the Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies for Pamela and Toby’s wedding reception. She poured the last cup of coffee from her travel carafe, sat down on a stool at the stainless-steel workstation, and reached out to grab one of the Old-Fashioned Sugar Cookies she’d designated as seconds. The cookie was slightly off round and she wanted the wedding cookies to be perfect. She was about to taste it when reality set in. She couldn’t have cookies. She was on a diet. In her heart of hearts, she knew she had at least twenty pounds to lose, maybe even more. And come to think of it, perhaps that was why Norman hadn’t asked her to marry him.

  Sighing a bit, Hannah placed the cookie back on the plate. She had to exercise willpower. She had to be strong. She’d just convince herself that she loved low-fat cottage cheese and salads until she could get back into her summer slacks. Once she got down to the perfect weight, Norman would take one look at her new, svelte figure and pop the question. And she’d say…What would she say? Did she really want to marry a man who hadn’t proposed to her because she was twenty pounds overweight?

  Hannah reached for the cookie again. She wanted a man who would accept her just the way she was. If twenty pounds or so stood between spinsterhood and wedded bliss, there was something wrong with the system. Besides, marrying Norman would mean that she’d have to give up Mike Kingston.

  A sigh escaped Hannah’s lips as she thought about Mike. He was the handsome and sexy head detective with the Winnetka County Sheriff’s Department. He was also her brother-in-law’s partner and Bill hadn’t been shy about telling Hannah that he hoped she’d marry Mike. Andrea also liked Mike, but she’d adopted their mother’s view. As long as the candidate was male and single, any old groom would do in a pinch.

  Thoughts of her mother caused Hannah to withdraw her hand without taking the cookie. If she got thinner and Norman proposed, Delores would have to stop playing matchmaker and fixing her up with every eligible man who stepped inside the Lake Eden city limits.

  But did she really want to get married at this point in her life? Hannah reached for the cookie again. It might serve her better to stay a little heavy, delay any proposals of marriage, and date both Norman and Mike into perpetuity.

  The back door opened and Hannah pulled her hand back from the cookie plate. It was a guilty reaction, pure and simple, and she gave her partner, Lisa Herman, an embarrassed smile. “Good morning, Lisa.”

  “Hi, Hannah.” Lisa hung her purse on a hook, grabbed her apron, and walked over to stare at Hannah curiously as she put it on. Since she was petite, she had to roll it up around the middle and wind the strings around her waist twice. “I saw you put that cookie back. Is there something wrong with them?”

  “No. I’m sure they’re delicious.”

  “Then why didn’t you take one?”

  “Because I’m on a diet. No desserts until I lose twenty pounds. If you see me reaching for another cookie, slap my hand.”

  “Okay. But what brought this on?”

  “My favorite pair of summer slacks. I bought them on a shopping trip with Andrea last summer and now I can’t even zip them up.”

  “That’s strange. You don’t look like you’ve gained weight to me.”

  “Not to you maybe, but…” Hannah stopped speaking and sighed. “Norman bought a house.”

  “He did?” Lisa looked startled.

  “It’s the house Rhonda Scharf inherited from her great-aunt. He’s coming here to sign the papers this morning.”

  “Then Norman’s moving?”

  “Not yet. He’s going to bulldoze the old house and start building the dream house we designed for the contest.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Lisa said, walking over to the sink to wash her hands, “but what does it have to do with you losing weight?”

  “He called to tell me about it this morning, but he didn’t ask me to marry him.”

  Lisa turned to give Hannah a stern look. “And you really believe that the only reason Norman didn’t ask you to marry him is because you’re twenty pounds overweight?”

  “Well…no. But…”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Lisa interrupted her. “Go on a diet if you want to, but don’t use Norman for an excuse. He’s crazy about you. Anybody can see that. I think he’ll ask you one of these days.”

  Hannah felt her spirits rise. “Do you really think so?”

  “Absolutely. It takes some men a while to work up the nerve. I’ve been dating Herb for as long as you’ve been dating Norman, and Herb hasn’t proposed yet.”

  “Do you wish he would?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, Hannah regretted them. Lisa’s relationship with Herb was none of her business. But Lisa didn’t seem to mind the question and she smiled slightly as she dried her hands.

  “Sometimes I wish he’d ask me. How about you? Do you want Norman to ask you?”

  “I don’t know. But I do know I don’t want him to ask anyone else.”

  Lisa laughed. “I don’t think there’s any danger of that. So how about the diet? Is it still on?”

  Hannah thought about it for a moment. “It’s on. I can�
��t afford to buy a whole new wardrobe.”

  “Now that’s a good reason for a diet,” Lisa said, heading for the door to the coffee shop. “I’ll go start the coffee so you can fill up on something that doesn’t have any calories.”

  The stove timer sounded and Hannah rose to take her pies out of the ovens. By the time she’d set them all out on racks to cool, Lisa was back with a fresh hot cup of coffee.

  “Here you go.” Lisa handed her a white mug with THE COOKIE JAR printed in red block letters on the side. “This’ll get you going. And once you increase your energy level, you’ll burn more calories. Gorgeous, as always.”

  Hannah, who had been about to take her first sip of coffee, looked up at the apparent non sequitur and found Lisa eyeing the row of baked pies.

  “I think lemon is your prettiest pie. Of course your cherry pies are nice, too. They look yummy with all that bright red juice bubbling up through the latticework crusts. And your apple pies are gorgeous, golden brown on top and they smell so good. And your blueberry pies are just…”

  “Stop!” Hannah interrupted her, holding up her hands in surrender. “I’m on a diet, remember?”

  Lisa looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Hannah. Forget what I said about your pies. Are the wedding cookies cool enough to decorate?”

  “They should be.”

  Lisa went to the counter and began to sift confectioner’s sugar into a bowl. “I’ll mix up the frosting and do the initials first.”

  “Good planning. They should be dry before you draw the purple hearts around them.”

  “Violet,” Lisa corrected her, measuring the sugar into another bowl. “The bride wants the initials to be the same light blue as a summer sky just after daybreak. And the hearts are supposed to match the color of the first wild violets of spring.”

  Hannah’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s positively poetic, but it all boils down to light blue and light purple, doesn’t it?”

  “You’re right,” Lisa said with a grin, stirring in the butter and then reaching for the heavy cream.

  While Hannah mixed up another batch of cookies and began to bake them, Lisa finished the frosting and filled a pastry bag. Hannah glanced over at her several times as she piped the light blue initials on the face of the cookies. At first Lisa had been noticeably shaky in her attempt to decorate cookies, but she had practiced with a perseverance that Hannah envied. Lisa was now an expert and that meant The Cookie Jar could offer personalized cookies for any event they catered.

  They completed their work at the same time and Hannah walked over to admire Lisa’s handiwork. “They’re perfect,” she said, smiling at her young partner. “Follow me. I think we deserve a coffee break.”

  The first thing Hannah did when she stepped into the coffee shop was to turn on their new ceiling fans. They created a slight breeze as their blades revolved lazily, stirring the air and the red, white, and blue streamers that Lisa had hung from the ceiling in honor of the Fourth of July.

  “Go sit down. I’ll get our coffee,” Lisa said, heading for the big urn behind the counter.

  Hannah chose her favorite table. It was in the rear of the shop, but it still had a nice view of the street through the front plate-glass window. Sitting at a table in the rear had one big advantage. The shop looked empty unless someone approached and pressed a nose to the window. And if the customers couldn’t see them, they wouldn’t knock on the door and expect them to open early.

  Lisa’s streamers looked nice and Hannah was glad she’d decorated. Lake Eden residents took their patriotism seriously and the Fourth of July was one of their small town’s biggest holidays. There would be a parade in the morning, political speeches and events throughout the day, a huge potluck picnic and barbecue on the shores of Eden Lake, and a fireworks display at night.

  “What’s wrong with that fan?” Lisa asked, setting their mugs of coffee on the table.

  “Which fan?”

  “The one directly over your head.”

  Hannah glanced up and saw that the blades weren’t turning on the fan in question. “I don’t know, but Freddy and Jed are coming in this morning to install the new shelves in the pantry. I’ll point it out to them.”

  “Freddy looks good,” Lisa remarked, sitting down next to Hannah. “He told me that Jed makes him take a shower every morning and dress in clean clothes.”

  “That’s a plus. I can remember a couple of times when I had to stand upwind.”

  As they sipped their coffee, Hannah thought about Freddy Sawyer. He was mildly retarded and he did odd jobs around town, supplementing the income from the small trust fund his mother had set up for him before she died. Freddy had to be in his early thirties, but his naïve manner and boyish grin made him seem much younger than that. He lived just outside the Lake Eden town limits on Old Bailey Road in the house his mother had owned for years. His cousin, Jed, had moved in with him last month, and it seemed Jed had been a good influence on Freddy.

  “People underestimate Freddy,” Lisa said, looking rather fierce. “They think he can’t learn new things, but they’re wrong. Janice Cox told me that she taught him to tell time.”

  “That’s good,” Hannah said, turning to look as a car drove up and parked in front of the shop. “There’s Andrea and she’s early. She isn’t supposed to meet Norman here until nine-thirty.”

  Lisa jumped up from her chair. “I’ll go let her in. Just sit there and relax. I know you were up late last night catering that bridal shower.”

  Hannah sat. She was tired. The shower had been a big event, over forty guests. Andrea had been invited, but she’d stayed only long enough to deliver her gift, congratulate the bride-to-be, and give Hannah a message from Mike. Mike was out of town, attending a five-day conference in Des Moines on intervention techniques for youthful offenders. When he hadn’t been able to reach Hannah on the phone, he’d called Andrea to say he was staying over on Sunday night, but he’d be back in Lake Eden at noon on Monday and he’d drop by The Cookie Jar to see her.

  The two sisters hadn’t had time to exchange more than a few words before Andrea had to leave. She’d told Hannah that Bill had turned into a regular mother hen now that she was pregnant. He urged her to rest when she wasn’t tired, he was forever bringing her afghans and pillows she didn’t need, and just recently he’d taken to making her high-energy snacks that played havoc with her prenatal diet.

  “Hi, Hannah.” Andrea breezed in through the door, the picture of chic. She was wearing a light green skirt that swirled gracefully when she walked and a matching hip-length top. There was a turquoise scarf around her waist, a color combination Hannah would never have thought to attempt, and a silver and turquoise pendant around her neck. Andrea’s light blond hair was pulled up in a complicated twist. She could have stepped from the pages of a glossy magazine.

  “You’re looking gorgeous this morning,” Hannah said with only a small stab of envy. Andrea always looked fashionable and Hannah often felt like a frump beside her.

  “Mother called you about Michelle, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, I’m meeting her bus. It’s going to be great having her home.”

  “I know. We haven’t seen her in ages.” Andrea pulled out a chair and sat down. “Why didn’t you call me last night? I left a zillion messages on your answer machine.”

  “I forgot to check it. I didn’t know about Norman’s new house until he called me this morning.”

  Andrea looked disgruntled. “Well, don’t blame me for not telling you. You really need a cell phone, Hannah.”

  “I don’t want a cell phone.”

  “Everyone who’s anyone has one.”

  “Then I guess I’m not anyone. I know it’s the age of technology, but I don’t like the idea of being on an electronic leash.”

  “It’s not like a leash. Anytime you don’t want to answer it, you can just turn it off.”

  “That would be all the time.” Hannah began to grin. The end of the argument was in sight. “And if I never answer m
y cell phone, why have one in the first place?”

  “Coffee, Andrea?” Lisa called out, holding up an empty mug.

  “No, thanks. Doc Knight limited me to one cup a day and I’ve already had it.”

  “How about a glass of orange juice?”

  “That sounds good.” Andrea smiled at Lisa, then turned back to Hannah. “I had to get up at the crack of dawn. The only time Doc Knight could see me was at seven-thirty.”

  “Seven-thirty isn’t exactly the crack of dawn.”

  “For me it is. I’m fine, by the way. I turned down the ultrasound. We don’t want to know the baby’s sex until he’s born.”

  “Until he’s born?”

  “I’m just saying he as a concession to Mother. She’s positive it’s a boy this time.”

  Hannah was amused. “What makes her so sure?”

  “She says if you carry the baby in front and your stomach sticks out, it’s a boy. If you’re big all over, it’s a girl.”

  “That sounds like an old wives’ tale to me. Besides, your stomach is still as flat as a board.”

  “No, it’s not. I’ve been dressing to hide it, but nothing fits me right anymore. I’m going to start wearing maternity clothes the minute Claire’s shipment comes in.”

  “You asked Claire to order maternity clothes for you?” Hannah was surprised. Claire Rodgers owned Beau Monde, the dress shop next door to The Cookie Jar, and her clothes were expensive.

  “I know it’ll probably cost an arm and a leg, but Bill wants me to have the best. He says it might even be tax deductible. After all, I’m a real estate agent and I have to be well dressed for my job.”

  “You’d better check with Stan about that.” Hannah curbed her impulse to laugh. Stan Kramer was the best tax man in Lake Eden. He was pretty liberal about what was and what wasn’t a tax deduction, but Hannah didn’t think he’d go quite that far.

  Andrea looked up as Lisa brought over a plate of cookies. “Thanks, Lisa. These look wonderful and I didn’t have time for breakfast. What are they?”

  “We call them Apricot Drops and they’re Hannah’s invention. They’re Oatmeal Raisin Crisps made with chopped dried apricots instead of raisins.”