Lemon Meringue Pie Murder Part 18

Hannah had been aware of a low rumbling noise while Mike spoke and it had increased in volume. Her eyes widened as a Greyhound bus crested the hill and began its descent. "You were right. There's the bus. I hope Mich.e.l.le's trip wasn't too boring."

"I'm sure she found someone to talk to. She's a very pretty woman."

"Girl," Hannah corrected him. "She's still a teenager."

"Just barely. I've known a few nineteen-year-olds. They'd much rather be thought of as young women."

"I suppose you're right." Hannah gave him a sharp glance as she climbed out of the car. She wanted to know more about the nineteen-year-olds he'd known, but it wasn't a good idea to ask. Mike didn't talk about his past very much and he'd already told her about driving his father's truck. That was enough for one night.

As they walked, Hannah glanced up at the halogen lights by the bus loading and unloading area. Moths were fluttering around the bulbs in uneven halos, attracted to the hot light despite its danger. As she watched, several fell back down to the pavement and were crushed under the feet of the people who had gathered to meet the bus.

Mike found a spot near the front of the crowd and Hannah stood close to his side. He reached out to take her arm and smiled down at her. "Are you excited about seeing her again?"

"Yes," Hannah said, smiling back. There were times when she indulged in a bit of nostalgia, remembering how she'd helped Delores soothe Mich.e.l.le through bouts of colic when she was a baby, carrying her on mile-long treks around the living room until she'd finally gone to sleep.

The bus pulled up with a loud snort and a squeal of brakes, spewing out a black plume of what Hannah now knew was LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 161.

diesel exhaust. There was a moment of expectation while the driver flicked on the interior lights and checked something on his clipboard. Then the door opened with a mechanical hiss and a plump woman in a nurse's uniform climbed down the steps. She was followed by a man carrying a raincoat, a mother with a baby in her arms, and an older gentleman wearing a straw hat.

There was a long pause as a young man struggled to navigate the steps with a package large enough to contain a tuba. Once he'd successfully disembarked, two teenage girls in jeans and sweaters stepped off the bus.

Hannah began to frown. There was only one more pa.s.senger waiting to get off the bus and it wasn't Mich.e.l.le. "Oh-oh. I think she missed the bus."

"No, she didn't. She's right there at the top of the stairs."

Hannah gave the woman a second glance. She had bright green streaks in her hair and a tattoo on her left shoulder, an in-your-face rendition of a coiled snake. She was wearing a s.h.i.+ny gold top that was so tight Hannah could see every breath she took, and her red pants were hip-height at the waist, exposing her navel. As far as Hannah could see there was no one standing behind her waiting to get off. "I don't see her. Where is she?"

"Right there. With the green hair."

Hannah took another look. The apparition was still at the top of the stairs and she appeared to be having trouble with one of her gold, high-heeled tennis shoes. The heel was stuck in the metal grating of the step.

"That's not Mich.e.l.le," Hannah said, shaking her head.

"Yes, it is. Watch this."

Mike stepped closer to wave at the green-haired woman. "Hi, Mich.e.l.le. Over here!"

The woman's face lit up in a smile and she waved back. "Hi, Hannah! Just a sec. My shoe's stuck."

It was Mich.e.l.le. Hannah groaned. She knew that college students often followed the newest clothing fads and she'd expected that Mich.e.l.le might have a slightly different look, 162.

but nothing could have prepared her for seeing her baby sister in an outfit that looked like ...

"I'll go help her," Mike said, interrupting the thoughts that Hannah didn't want to think anyway. "Don't worry. It's probably just some stage she's going through."

"Some stage," Hannah muttered, managing somehow to put a welcoming smile on her face. She averted her eyes as Mike bounded forward, wondering if her mother had grounds to sue the college. She'd check with Howie Levine in the morning. Better yet, she'd call him the moment she got home to her condo.

"Here she is," Mike announced, arriving at Hannah's side with Mich.e.l.le in his arms and her left shoe dangling from his fingers. "I'm going to carry her to the car so she can change shoes. Her luggage is being unloaded right now and there's only one piece, a pink duffle bag. Can you get it?"

"Sure," Hannah said brightly, heading off to collect the pink bag. Perhaps the college wouldn't admit full responsibility. Mich.e.l.le had lived off campus for a semester. But at the least, they ought to refund the tuition money.

"So. How was your trip?" Hannah asked, after she'd retrieved Mich.e.l.le's bag, stashed it in the trunk, and taken her place in the pa.s.senger's seat.

"Exciting. I almost missed the bus." Mich.e.l.le grinned at her big sister. "I just wish I'd brought my camera. I'd give anything to have a picture of your face when I got off that bus."

"You do look ... uh ... pretty spectacular," Hannah said, reminding herself that they had an audience and it would be better to wait until they were alone to read Mich.e.l.le the riot act.

"I wish Mother could see me like this, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"Probably not," Hannah said, knowing that she'd just made the understatement of the year. "As far as I know, she doesn't have heart problems ... yet."

Mich.e.l.le cracked up and Hannah immediately felt better.

LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 163.

At least her sister's new look hadn't leached her sense of humor.

"Could we go to your place so I can wash this green stuff out of my hair?"

"It washes out?"

"It's supposed to. It's a spray I got from the makeup department. You don't think I look like this all the time, do you?"

"You don't?"

"Of course not. I don't dress like this, either. It's just that I was in a student play tonight. If I'd taken the time to change out of my costume, I would have missed my bus."

"You're wearing a costume!" Hannah exclaimed, beginning to smile. "Mike and I thought it was a new kind of fad. How about the tattoo? Is that real?"

Mich.e.l.le shook her head. "It's just one of those press-on things that washes right off with soap and water. If I can use your shower, I'll be as good as new in less than twenty minutes, I promise."

"Hannah's place it is," Mike said, reaching out to pat Hannah's hand as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. "The tattoo's impressive. I know a woman who has one just like it."

"Here in Lake Eden?" Hannah asked, turning to him in absolute shock.

"No, in Minneapolis. I busted her three times when I was a rookie."

Chapter Fifteen.

Hannah 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 Mich.e.l.le 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 LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 165.

it's important. Then he wants to take you to the caf6 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?"

166.

"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 s.p.a.ce 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 devel- LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 167.

oped 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 os...o...b..co.

"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 G.o.ddess."

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."

168.

"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?"