Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen Mysteries) (16 page)

H
annah took another sip of coffee. Her nerves were jangling with the infusion of even more caffeine than usual, but she had to do something to wake up. They’d stayed out at the cottage with Mother and Michelle until almost one in the morning, and then she’d spent long minutes with Mike at her door, debating about whether or not she should invite him in. One glance at her watch had settled that question. One-thirty was too late, especially for a small-business owner who had to get up at five the next morning to bake. She’d gone inside alone, fed Moishe, and crawled into bed. And this morning, when she’d come into work, she’d found two frantic messages on her answer machine. Both were rush orders that had come in the previous evening. Loretta Richardson had called in a panic. She’d been deluged with unexpected guests for the Fourth and she needed five-dozen Praline Charlottes. The second order had come from Doc Knight, who wanted three pans of Lovely Lemon Bar Cookies for his nurses.

“Hannah?” Lisa pushed the swinging door to the kitchen open and stuck her head in. “Norman’s on the phone and he wants you to meet him down at the clinic at twelve. He says it’s important. Then he wants to take you to the café for lunch.”

Hannah was about to say yes when she remembered that Lisa needed her lunch break. “How about you? Can you wait until one for lunch?”

“No problem. Just bring me back one of Rose’s hamburgers.”

“It’s a deal.” Hannah started to smile. It would be good to see Norman.

“And Mike just came in. He wants to see you.”

“Okay. Will you coffee him and send him back here?”

“Sure. Did you finish the Praline Charlottes for Loretta?”

“Yes, and I’ll deliver them on my way to see Norman.” Hannah gestured toward several boxes she’d stacked on the counter. “I have extras if you want to give them out for samples.”

Lisa shook her head. “They’re too good for samples. I know you’re just using them for catering and advance orders right now, but I think we should add them to the cookie menu.”

“We’ll have to charge a little more. The frosting takes time.”

“People will pay it. They’re delicious, Hannah. I just wish Cousin Charlotte could taste them.”

“I agree, especially since we named them after her. I’ll package up a few and we’ll send them to her by overnight mail.”

Lisa looked happy as she went back out to the coffee shop. Her mother’s cousin, who ran a cleaning service in New Orleans, had sent Lisa a box of pralines for Christmas. Hannah had tasted one and been so impressed, she’d decided to try to make a praline cookie.

Hannah had just finished packaging the cookies when Mike came in with a coffee mug in his hand. “Hi, Hannah. I checked on that little problem we discussed last night.”

“What little problem?”

“Just a second.” Mike walked over to the pantry and glanced through the open door.

For a moment Hannah thought he’d lost his marbles, but then she realized that he wanted to give her his report on Jed’s job at the prison. “Jed and Freddy finished their work for me yesterday. There’s no one here except you and me, and the weevils in the flour.”

“You have
bugs
in your flour?”

Mike started to frown and Hannah wondered if he was thinking of turning her in to the Health Department. She didn’t think he would, but she knew she’d better correct his misconception in a hurry. “Relax, Mike. I was just kidding. I always store my flour in canisters and tape a bay leaf to the inside of the lid to keep out the weevils.”

“And that works?”

“It’s never failed me. The only other way is to freeze the flour in airtight containers, but I don’t have the freezer space for that.”

“I learn something new every day in this job.” Mike gave her a grin. “Do you want me to tell you about Jed?”

“Please do. Pull up a stool and sit down.”

Mike took the stool across from Hannah and took out his notebook. “I checked when I got to the station this morning. Jed was a civilian worker on the maintenance crew at Stillwater. He didn’t lie to you, but I doubt he told you the whole truth.”

“What’s the whole truth?”

“He was fired. I talked to his supervisor and he said that Jed was unreliable. He came in late most mornings and there were several times when his supervisor suspected that he’d been drinking on the job. He finally caught Jed with a bottle and fired him on the spot.”

“Jed didn’t mention anything about that.”

“Of course he didn’t. My big concern is for Freddy. You said you think Jed’s a real influence on him?”

“I know he is. Freddy thinks the world of Jed.”

“Then we’d better hope that Jed’s drinking hasn’t developed into a pattern. Do you think he was drinking when he was working for you?”

Hannah thought about it for a moment and then she shook her head. “I don’t think he was. I’m pretty sure I would have noticed. Maybe he learned his lesson?”

“Either that, or he’s just being more careful not to get caught. Who are they working for now?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll find out and keep an eye on Jed.” Mike finished his coffee and stood up. “Break time’s over and I’ve got to run. I’ll give you a call later.”

The moment Mike left, Hannah pulled out her steno pad and added the new information he’d given her. It didn’t have anything to do with Rhonda’s murder, but she liked to keep all her information in one place. Then she checked her list of things to do and saw her notation about Reverend Knudson. Priscilla thought her grandson had attended a church-related meeting on Friday night, but Hannah had her doubts. If Lisa could spare her, she’d run next door and ask Claire if she knew where the reverend had gone with his two orders of takeout osso buco.

“Is there something wrong with the outfit you bought yesterday?” Claire asked when she answered Hannah’s knock on her back door.

“Are you kidding? I wore it when I went out to dinner with Mike and he said I looked like a goddess.”

Claire smiled. “It’s the simple truth. That outfit does wonders for you.”

“Thanks.” Hannah appreciated the compliment, but it was time to get to the point. “Something’s come up and I need to talk to you about Reverend Knudson. Do you have a minute?”

Claire glanced at her watch. “I have exactly five. Becky Summers just went into the dressing room and she always struggles with her zipper for at least five minutes before she calls me in to help.”

“Then I’d better hurry.” Hannah took a deep breath as she stepped inside Claire’s back room. “I know that this is a delicate subject, but do you know where Reverend Knudson was on Friday night?”

“Is this about Rhonda’s murder?”

“Yes. Rhonda had a guest at the Voelker place on Friday night and he brought two takeout dinners with him. I know Reverend Knudson got takeout that night. I’m hoping he wasn’t Rhonda’s visitor.”

“He wasn’t.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“As sure as I can be. Bob was
my
visitor.”

“What time did Reverend Knudson get to your place, and when did he leave? And what did he bring you for dinner?”

“Do you really need to know all that?” Claire’s green eyes narrowed. “Or is it just prurient curiosity on your part?”

“I’m never prurient…or at least not often. I really need to know, Claire. I realize you want to keep your relationship with the reverend private and that’s one of the reasons I’m asking. If I can eliminate him from the suspect list, I won’t have to mention him to Mike.”

Claire thought about that for a moment. “All right. Bob got to my apartment at seven and he didn’t leave until after midnight. And he brought me osso buco.”

“Good. I can cross him off the list.” Hannah gave a relieved sigh. “If you don’t mind my asking, why did his grandmother think he was at a church meeting?”

Claire gave a little smile. “Because that’s where he was
supposed
to be. It was Ecumenical Council night, but they canceled. Bob found out late that afternoon and we…well…we just took advantage of the moment. By the way, he’s an incredible dancer.”

“Reverend Knudson?”

“Yes. He put himself through college by working part time as a dance instructor. Bob can tango better than anybody I know. He’s just wild.”

Hannah blinked. She really had trouble imagining the solemn man who stood behind the pulpit at Redeemer Lutheran dancing a wild tango. “You went out dancing?”

“Not out. We shoved back the furniture and danced in my living room. Bob’s just wonderful, Hannah. I’ve never been so happy in my life. He’s almost got me persuaded to let him announce our engagement to the congregation and let the chips fall where they may.”

Hannah sighed. She wished Claire well, but those would be some pretty big chips.

“I know what you’re thinking, but even when I was involved with Richard, I stayed active in the church. I can always be the reformed sinner that Bob redeemed.”

Another thought occurred to Hannah that she knew she shouldn’t ask, but that had never stopped her before. “Do you really think you could be a small-town minister’s wife?”

“I think so. I know I’d like to be Bob’s wife. There’s only one thing stopping me.”

“Your past?”

“No, Bob doesn’t care about that. But I don’t read music and every other minister’s wife in town plays the organ.”

Hannah glanced at her watch as she pulled into a space in front of the Rhodes Dental Clinic. She was twenty minutes early for her lunch date with Norman despite the fact that she’d stopped off to deliver Loretta’s Praline Charlottes. She got out of her truck, locked it up, and walked into the waiting room. She could hear voices in the back, coming from one of the examining rooms. Norman was still with a patient. Rather than sit and page through magazines she didn’t want to read anyway, Hannah decided to dash up the block to Lake Eden Neighborhood Drugs and talk to Jon Walker about Rhonda’s work at the drugstore.

The heat was shimmering up in little waves from the sidewalk as Hannah walked to the drugstore. Main Street was practically deserted and she could understand why. Anyone with half a brain was inside with curtains drawn and fan blades whirling as fast as they could to move the sluggish air. The heat today was powerful enough to make Hannah wish that the Lake Eden City Council would legislate required siestas.

As Hannah walked, she caught herself stepping over the cracks in the sidewalk. Grandma Ingrid had once told her that if she stepped on a crack, she’d break her mother’s back. The old rhyme had evidently sunk deeply into her subconscious. Of course she didn’t believe it. She doubted she’d believed it then. But twenty-five years had passed since she’d first heard that childish warning and she was still altering her pace to avoid the cracks.

There was a large revolving fan on a stand in the open doorway of the drugstore and Hannah moved around it to step inside. The lighting was dim compared to the brightness of the summer sun. She stopped several feet from the door to let her pupils adjust. When her eyes had done their retinal magic and enabled her to make out obstacles again, she realized that she was standing next to the candy counter and quickly moved over to a display of stuffed toys.

“Hello, Hannah.”

A voice greeted her from the dusky interior. Hannah gave a little wave as she spotted Linda Nelson. “Hi, Linda. I didn’t know you were working here.”

“I’m Beth Halverson’s summer replacement. She got a scholarship to science camp.”

Hannah nodded. Beth was the piccolo player who would be sorely missed by everyone who heard the Jordan High marching band. “I need to talk to Jon. Is he around?”

“He’s in the pharmacy. Come with me and I’ll call him.”

Hannah was surprised. The last time she’d come in to talk to Jon, one of the clerks had just slipped behind the counter, opened the door to the pharmacy, and told Jon that Hannah wanted to see him. “Why do you have to call him?”

“New regulations. We’re not allowed behind the pharmacy counter and the door is kept locked. If someone wants Mr. Walker, we have to call him on the phone.”

“You had a break-in?” Hannah guessed.

“I don’t know. Mr. Walker just told us the new rules when we came in to work Friday morning. He didn’t explain why.”

Hannah followed Linda to the front of the pharmacy counter and watched as she punched a series of numbers into the phone. It rang in the pharmacy, the door behind the counter opened, and Jon Walker came out. He was a full-blooded Chippewa Indian, born at Red Lake Reservation. When it had been time for Jon to start high school, his family had moved to Lake Eden and Jon had graduated from Jordan High. He’d gone on to college and come back to Lake Eden to buy the drugstore and take over the pharmacy.

“What can I do for you, Hannah?” Jon asked, locking the door behind him.

“I need some information. Can we step inside the pharmacy so we can talk privately?”

Jon shook his head. “Sorry. The pharmacy’s off limits to everyone except me. We can go to my office, though.”