Banana Cream Pie Murder

by Joanne Fluke

  “Barton?” the man questioned her. “This package is addressed to Hannah Swensen.”

  Hannah laughed. “That’s me. And Ross Barton is my husband. We were married less than two weeks ago and I guess he forgot to use Barton when he filled out the paperwork!”

  The deliveryman laughed. “It happens to the best of us. When my wife and I went on our honeymoon, I checked her in under her maiden name when I registered at the hotel. She still laughs about that.”

  Hannah accepted the package he handed her, thanked him for delivering it, and carried it inside. The package wasn’t that large and she was surprised. “My package is here,” she said to Mike.

  “I see that. Do you want me to open it for you?”

  “Yes, please. I’ll get your coffee while you’re opening it.”

  When Hannah came back from the kitchen, Mike had the package open and was holding a note. “Thanks, Hannah,” he said, accepting the coffee with one hand and handing her the note with the other. “This must be for you, Hannah. It was right on top.”

  Hannah glanced down at the note.

  It read, Here you go, Cookie. You can watch it on our big screen if you want to.

  “That’s for you, right?” Mike asked her.

  “Yes.”

  “He calls you Cookie?”

  Hannah nodded. “Ross started that in college. I took Ross and Linda cookies when they moved into my apartment building and he’s called me that ever since.”

  “Appropriate. Do you want to watch this?” Mike pointed to the DVD cases in the package.

  “Yes, but first . . .” Hannah stopped in mid-sentence, wondering if what she’d been about to ask was inappropriate.

  “But what?”

  “Uh . . . I didn’t get a chance to take a shower this morning because I got up too late and I was afraid I wouldn’t hear the doorbell in the shower. Would you mind if I took a quick one right now?”

  “I don’t mind. I know where the coffeepot is if I need a refill. Go for it, Hannah. And take your time. I’ll be right here.”

  “Thanks, Mike. If you’re hungry, help yourself to the pumpkin scones on the wire rack in the kitchen. There’s soft butter in the dish on the kitchen table.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll do that.”

  Hannah came close to regretting her offer as she hurried back to the master bedroom. She’d told Mike to help himself to the scones and she hoped he wouldn’t eat them all. As she closed the door, she thought about racing back to the kitchen to put some scones away, but she decided that wouldn’t be very hospitable. Instead, she immediately headed for the shower. If she hurried, perhaps there would be some scones left on the rack when she came back.

  Fifteen minutes later, Hannah came out of the shower, feeling that all was right with her world. Her back no longer hurt, the kinks were gone from her neck, and she felt better than she had all week. She towel-dried her hair, dressed quickly, and was back in the living room in time to see Mike slipping the first disk into the DVD player.

  “Those scones are great!” he said. “Did you make them?”

  Hannah shook her head. “Michelle did. She was thinking of selling them Thanksgiving week at the coffee shop.”

  “Why not? I think everybody would like them. And it’ll remind them to order one of your pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “I didn’t think of that! You could be right, though.” Hannah went into the kitchen, poured herself another cup of coffee, and glanced at the wire rack. There were a few scones left, thank goodness! She carried her coffee back to the living room, and found Mike waiting for her on the couch. “Do you want to watch this now?”

  “Yes. Ross is working on a retrospective of Tori’s life on the stage and he sent some footage to me. Would you like to stay and watch it with me?”

  “Yeah. Maybe I’ll learn something about Tori Bascomb that I don’t know.” Mike cleared his throat. “And speaking of Tori Bascomb, how is your investigation coming along?”

  “You asked me that yesterday, Mike.”

  “I know. I just thought you might have discovered a new clue.”

  “I wish I had, but I didn’t,” Hannah said quite honestly. “I’m stumped, Mike.”

  “Join the club. We’ve followed every lead and we’ve gotten exactly nowhere. The one thing I do know is that her killer was probably someone she knew.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Tori opened the door. And there’s a peephole.” Mike gave a little laugh. “Unless, of course, she was like you and forgot to look through the peephole.”

  Hannah sighed. Mike was right. She did forget.

  “I’ll have to talk to Ross about that, and impress on him how important it is to get you to use that peephole. It’s there for a reason, Hannah.”

  “I know. I just forget, that’s all.”

  “And that’s exactly why you have to develop the habit. Even if you are sure that you know who it is, look first and then open the door.”

  “Okay. You’re right,” Hannah conceded. “Let’s watch the footage, Mike. I want to see what Ross has been filming.”

  As Hannah watched the footage and discovered the path that Tori’s acting career had taken, she was amazed at the number of Broadway performances that the mayor’s sister had given. Tori had been multi-talented. She was an accomplished singer, dancer, comedian, and actress. She’d even had a one-woman show at one point in her career.

  Ross had interviewed a number of Broadway actors and actresses who had known and worked with Tori and they had all agreed that she was highly talented and had performed her roles to perfection. But not one of them had said anything about her personally, and no one had said that she was a friend.

  “Did you catch the fact that all those co-workers admired her, yet no one said they liked her?” Mike asked as he ejected the first disk and put in the second.

  “Yes, I noticed. I’m surprised that Ross didn’t interview any of Tori’s theater friends.”

  Mike shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t have any theater friends. The only real friend she had here in Lake Eden was your mother. And that was probably because they were neighbors.”

  “Right,” Hannah said, deciding to think about that later.

  “This disk is labeled EARLY YEARS,” Mike told her.

  “Good. That should be interesting. I was curious about how Tori got her start on Broadway.”

  “In a Broadway musical. That was her first role, Tori was the understudy and the actress playing the lead got the flu. Tori took over the role on opening night and got rave reviews.”

  “Interesting,” Hannah said, mentally kicking herself for not researching that bit of information. “On opening night,” she repeated what Mike had told her with a sigh. “That was a lucky break for Tori, but it makes me feel sorry for the actress who was scheduled to play the part.”

  “Laine Warner.”

  Hannah frowned slightly. “I don’t know the names of that many Broadway actresses, but I’ve never heard of her.”

  “Neither has anyone else. This musical was supposed to be her big break.”

  “And she got the flu,” Hannah repeated what Mike had told her. “What happened to Laine Warner?”

  “She had some small parts on Broadway for a while, and then she became a character actress in the movies. I looked her up. She worked a lot and was very successful, but she never got to play the lead actress.”

  “Do you think that could be a motive for murder?” Hannah asked him.

  “It’s a possibility, but it’s unlikely. Laine was successful in her own right. She made a lot of money before she retired. She hasn’t done anything for the past ten years or so, but she made a very good living for a long time and probably has a nice big retirement income.”

  “Do you know where Laine Warner is now?”

  Mike shook his head. “She dropped out of sight. No driver’s license, no new social security information, nothing in the records about her.”

  “Do you
think she’s dead?”

  “She could be. A lot of people fall through the cracks as far as the records go. But, it’s also possible that she moved out of the country, or married someone and didn’t bother to change her name on the records.”

  “So she’s not one of your suspects?”

  “No, but she could be if I knew more about her. For instance, does Laine Warner think that Tori somehow caused her to get sick just in time for opening night?”

  “Would Tori have done something like that?”

  “It doesn’t matter if she did, or if she didn’t. The important factor is if Laine Warner believes that Tori did it. Then that’s a motive for murdering Tori.”

  “How do you find out what Laine believes without locating her and questioning her?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t. Let’s watch the disk and see if Ross managed to find her. Or if he interviewed someone who can give me a lead.”

  Give us a lead! Hannah changed the personal pronoun in her mind, but she didn’t voice it. All the same, she was going to watch the second disk very carefully to see if she could spot anything.

  “Ready?” Mike asked her, picking up the control.

  “I’m ready. Let’s see what Ross found out about Laine Warner.”

  * * *

  Less than thirty minutes later, Hannah and Mike had their answer. Ross hadn’t been able to locate Laine Warner, either. And no one he’d interviewed had known where she was. He had, however, managed to locate some clips of her performances as a character actress and both Mike and Hannah had watched those carefully.

  “So what did you think?” Mike asked her when the entire disk had played.

  “Laine Warner was a very good actress and I wish Ross had found her. And . . . this may sound a little crazy, but she looked slightly familiar to me.”

  “Did you see her on Broadway? She was in a couple of other productions before she landed her first lead.”

  “I’ve never seen a Broadway play, so that can’t be it.”

  “Then maybe you saw her in one of those old movies you like to watch.”

  “Maybe.” Hannah thought about that for a moment and then she gave a slight nod. “That’s probably it.”

  “Thanks for showing me those interviews, Hannah. Your guy is really good at getting people to talk. If he ever gets tired of lugging around all that equipment, I could sure use someone like him at the station.”

  “I’ll tell him you said that,” Hannah said, but she thought, I doubt it! Ross loves what he does and he wouldn’t do anything else for the world!

  “There’s a few of those scones left,” Mike said, standing up to retrieve the disk from the DVD player. “Do you think I could have a couple more to take with me to the station?”

  Hannah gave a fleeting thought to the possibility of refusing. She wouldn’t mind eating another pumpkin scone herself, but then decided it was best to be charitable. Mike had been very forthcoming about his investigation and he hadn’t asked her that many questions about hers. He deserved some kind of positive reinforcement for that and more scones would give it to him.

  “Sure, you can have them,” Hannah said. “Wait for just a second and I’ll pack up the rest for you.”

  Mike followed her to the kitchen and watched as she wrapped the scones in foil and put them in a plastic bag. She knew he was counting how many were there and wondering if he could eat one on his way to the station, so she left one out of the package she was making.

  “Is that last one for you?” Mike asked her.

  “No,” Hannah told him. “That last one’s for you to eat on your drive to the station.”

  “Great!” Mike gave her the grin that always made her heart beat faster. Perhaps that was disloyal of her, now that she was married, but she excused it as an involuntary reaction. “Here you are,” she said, handing him the scones.

  “The guys at the station will go crazy over these. And . . . oh! I forgot to tell you. Your mother called while you were in the shower.”

  Uh-oh! Hannah’s mind shouted a warning. If I know Mother, and I do, she’s going to think the worst! Hannah was almost afraid to ask, but she had to know for purposes of damage control. “Did you tell her why I couldn’t come to the phone?”

  “Sure. I said you’d just gone to the bedroom to take a shower. And I told her you’d given me coffee and pumpkin scones for breakfast. I promised her that I’d tell you she called and that you’d call her later, after you got dressed and everything.”

  Hannah came close to groaning out loud, but Mike had no idea the size of the can of worms he’d opened. She had to call her mother right after he left and attempt to explain.

  “That’s okay, isn’t it?” Mike asked her.

  “Oh, yes,” Hannah hurried to reassure him. He had no idea the ramifications his words could cause. “I’ll call her back just as soon as you leave.”

  Several nervous minutes later, Hannah was punching her mother’s number into the phone. It rang only once before Delores answered.

  “Hannah? What’s going on there anyway? Mike answered your phone and told me that you were in the shower. And then he said that you’d given him breakfast! You’re a married woman, Hannah! What was Mike doing at your place for breakfast? And why did you take a shower while he was there?”

  Hannah came close to laughing out loud. Her mother clucked and scolded like a biddy hen. “It’s okay, Mother. Ross sent me some footage he’d shot in New York and I was here, waiting for the FedEx to arrive. Mike dropped by The Cookie Jar, Michelle told him I was at home, waiting for a package from Ross, and Mike came over so I took advantage of him.”

  “You what?!” Delores sounded even more like a hen in distress and Hannah laughed.

  “Sorry, Mother. I shouldn’t have used that particular word. I didn’t have time for a shower earlier because I thought I might not hear the doorbell with the water running. I asked Mike if he’d stay in the living room while I took a quick shower and get the package if it came in.”

  “Oh.” Delores sounded slightly relieved. “But I don’t understand why you asked him to stay if your package from Ross had already arrived.”

  “Because I thought there might be some kind of a clue that would lead us to Tori’s killer. And if Mike watched it with me, two sets of eyes would have to be better than one.”

  “Oh.” Finally, Delores sounded completely relieved. “Tell me, dear . . . did you discover any clues?”

  “Maybe, but we’re not sure yet. We’re both working on it, though.” Hannah didn’t want to go into detail, so she changed the subject. “Did you find any good judges for the pie eating contest, Mother?”

  “Yes, I did!” Delores sounded very pleased with herself. “I called Bill and he agreed to be one of the judges. I thought having the sheriff on the judging panel would prove that the contest was legitimate.”

  “Good thinking, Mother. Did you get anyone else?”

  “Of course. Ken Purvis was delighted to be asked. He agreed to be a judge the moment I asked him. You do know what that means, don’t you, dear?”

  “We get the high school crowd?” Hannah guessed, since Ken Purvis was the Jordan High principal.

  “That’s right. But my third judge is the icing on the cake.”

  “It’s pie, Mother.”

  Delores sighed so heavily, Hannah could hear it on the phone. “I didn’t mean it that way, Hannah!”

  “I know,” Hannah said quickly. “It was just a little joke. Who’s the third judge, Mother?”

  “Stephanie Bascomb. I invited her over yesterday afternoon and asked her if she’d be a judge. And once I’d told her how very important it was and how everyone would love to see her in that exalted position, she agreed to take part. She’s even going to act completely shocked when she sees pie on her husband’s face.”

  “You told her it was going to be televised on KCOW?” Hannah guessed.

  “Of course. It was a selling point, dear. And Stephanie ran with it, thanks to my persuas
ive rhetoric.”

  Her mother was waiting for praise and Hannah wasted no time in giving it to her. “Thank you, Mother. You did a superlative job choosing the judges. They’re just perfect.”

  “Of course they are, dear. I’m very good at this sort of thing, you know.”

  After several more compliments to her mother’s intelligence, wisdom, and social awareness, Hannah managed to end the conversation. She hung up and spotted their local paper on her dining room table. Mike must have heard it arrive and brought it in for her.

  Hannah glanced at the first page and gave a little gasp of surprise. There was a gorgeous photo of a slice of her Banana Cream Pie with the caption, Hannah’s Banana Cream Pie. The first line of the article below it, all in caps, read EVER WISH YOU COULD EAT THE WHOLE PIE?

  The article below it started off with a bang.

  Three locals from Lake Eden will get the chance to do just that in a timed pie eating contest on Saturday at 1:00 PM at the Jordan High auditorium. Tickets are available now and there will be a bake sale to benefit the Lake Eden Players right after the contest. One of the judges is Stephanie Bascomb, who told me she’s bringing baby wipes with her in case the mayor, who’s one of the contestants, gets pie on his face!

  The article went on to name the local businesses that were selling tickets. Hannah stopped reading and reached for the phone. She had to call Rod at the newspaper office.

  “Hi, Hannah,” Rod greeted her once she’d identified herself. “What did you think of the article?”

  “It’s brilliant, Rod! Thank you for the great article!”

  “Don’t thank me. Your mother wrote the copy. And it certainly did the trick. Rose McDermott called me a few minutes ago from the café and said that they sold over fifty tickets this morning.”

  “That’s fantastic!”

  “I sold over twenty right here,” Rod told her. “They’re going like hotcakes, Hannah. Everyone wants to watch Stephanie’s reaction when the mayor goes facedown in a pie plate.”

  “But he won’t go facedown,” Hannah told him. “Michelle promised the mayor that the contestants could use spoons.”