Lemon Meringue Pie Murder Part 6

Norman opened the front door. "I'd better turn on the lights so you can see better. The windows are small and it's fairly dark inside."

"The electricity's still on?" Hannah was surprised. She'd a.s.sumed that Rhonda had turned it off to save the expense.

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"I told Rhonda to switch it over to my name. I'll have it turned off on Sat.u.r.day morning before the demolition crew gets here."

When Hannah stepped inside the house, she was pleasantly surprised. She'd expected to be a.s.sailed by the clouds of must and dust that inevitably gathered when a house was unoccupied, but the only odor she could detect was lemon-scented furniture polish. "It's so clean in here!"

"I know. That's why I didn't bother to change clothes." Delores glanced down at the pale yellow dress she was wearing. "Andrea told me that Rhonda had a cleaning woman."

"What for? There hasn't been anyone living here since Mrs. Voelker died."

"I know, but the house wasn't selling and Andrea thought it might show better if it was cleaned. You know how some people are. They can't see past the dust and the cobwebs. Rhonda didn't feel like doing it herself, so she hired a cleaning lady. Come on, Hannah. We'll start in the living room and work our way through to the back."

The living room was cluttered with furniture and artwork, but with all three of them working, it didn't take long. Hannah put red tags on the furniture and artwork that Delores indicated, and Norman packed the smaller items in boxes.

The guest room didn't yield much for Granny's Attic, just a handmade patchwork quilt that Delores thought she could sell, but the master bedroom was a different story. Delores chose two Maxfield Parish prints and an old wooden rocking chair. Then she pointed to the quilt on the bed. "I'd like to take that."

"Why?" Hannah asked. She was almost sure that the quilt was machine-made, the type that anyone could buy from a mail-order catalogue. "It's not an antique, is it?"

"No, but Reverend Strandberg can use it for the homeless shelter."

Hannah agreed and pulled the quilt from the bed. But instead of a bare mattress similar to the one they'd found in the guest room, this bed was complete with sheets, pillowcases,

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and a blanket. "I wonder why Rhonda kept this bed made up? Do you suppose she stayed out here sometimes?"

"I doubt it, dear. Why would she want to stay way out here when she has an apartment of her own? The cleaning woman probably made it up by mistake."

"Do you want the rest of the bedding for Reverend Strand-berg?" Norman asked, holding one end of the quilt while Hannah folded it.

"Yes. And if there's a linen closet, I'll take whatever's there. I think I'm through in here. Let's tackle the kitchen."

"Why don't you two go ahead," Norman suggested. "I'll load up the artwork and join you as soon as I'm through."

Hannah was the first to enter the large farm-style kitchen and what she saw made her stop cold. "That's one of my pie boxes on the table!"

"You're right. I wonder how long it's been here." Delores marched past her, lifted the lid on the distinctive box Hannah used for pies, and stepped back with a startled exclamation. "Yuck!"

"My pies are yuck? "

"They are when they're covered with ants."

Hannah walked closer, peered inside, and made a face. It was one of the lemon pies she'd baked on Friday. Only one piece had been eaten and the rest was crawling with an endless line of small black ants that were industriously carting away the sweet pastry. "You're right, Mother. This pie is ant fodder. I'll dump it in the garbage."

"Here, Hannah." Delores walked over with a plastic garbage bag she'd found in a box under the sink. She held it open near the edge of the table and motioned to Hannah. "I'll hold the bag. You slide the box off the table, dump it inside, and carry it out."

"Yes, Mother," Hannah said obediently, resisting the urge to giggle. Delores was treating her like a backwards child, but the plan was a good one and to object would be petty. Once the box was safely transferred to the garbage bag, Hannah carried it to the back door and took it outside.

LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 61.

Two garbage cans sat on a cement slab next to the old garage. Hannah peeked in the garage window, hoping to see an antique car up on blocks, but the interior was completely filled with fireplace wood. She'd have to remember to tell Norman about that. There was enough wood in Mrs. Voel-ker's garage to carry him through several winters. All he had to do was move it to another location before they tore down the garage.

Hannah held her bag at the ready and lifted the lid on the garbage can. She expected it to be empty and she was surprised to see several items in the bottom of the plastic liner. There were two Styrofoam boxes with see-through plastic lids, the kind used for restaurant takeout dinners. One dinner was partially eaten and the other looked untouched. Both were os...o...b..co, one of Hannah's favorite entrees. She recognized it by its distinctive marrowbone. Rhonda must have ordered takeout on the night she packed up the last of her great-aunt's effects and since there were two containers, it was obvious she'd expected someone to join her for dinner.

It was probably an invasion of privacy to go through someone else's garbage, but Hannah was curious about that uneaten dinner. She lifted the liner partway out of the can, and peered down at the other items in its depths. There was an empty Chianti bottle, and two plastic winegla.s.ses. Rhonda had poured wine for someone, but that someone had left before dinner.

Hannah shrugged and added her garbage bag to the mix. She didn't understand why Rhonda hadn't taken the untouched entree home. Even if she hadn't wanted it, she could have given it to one of her neighbors. For that matter, why had she left the pie? The same reasoning applied. One of Rhonda's neighbors would have loved it.

Just as she was about to close the lid, Hannah heard the rumble of a trash truck approaching on the road that ran past the house. Monday must be garbage day. Hannah lifted out the liner, tied it off, and rushed to the front to hand it to the driver.

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"What took you so long?" Dolores asked when Hannah came back into the kitchen.

"The garbage truck came so I carried out the bag." Hannah sniffed the air. "You must have found some ant spray."

"It was under the sink. Look at these dishes, Hannah. They're Carnival gla.s.s."

Hannah surveyed the rainbow of colored dishes Delores had stacked on the counter. "I thought Carnival gla.s.s was orange."

"That's the most common, but they made it in other colors, too. See this purple bowl? It's fairly rare and it'll bring a good price. Could you climb up and look in the top cupboards, dear? There may be more."

Hannah dragged a chair over to the counter and climbed up on the seat. She opened one of the cupboard doors and her eyes widened as she recognized a distinctive design. "Here's a big Desert Rose platter. You want that, don't you?"

"Yes. Hand it down to me."

Hannah handed the platter to her mother and reached for a stack of plates. "This looks like Blue Willowware, but it's green. I think there's a whole set of it."

"Let me see." Delores sounded excited as she reached up for a plate. She flipped it over and she gasped. "What a find! It's genuine Green Blue Willowware!"

Hannah coughed to cover a laugh. How could a plate be Green Blue Willowware? It sounded like a contradiction in terms. "Here's some pink. Do you want that, too?"

"Yes! Pink Blue Willowware is a collector's dream. Just hand me everything, Hannah. And be careful you don't drop any pieces. I'm just glad Rhonda didn't go through the cupboards. She missed some real treasures."

By the time Norman joined them in the kitchen, Delores had every flat surface stacked with dishes and gla.s.sware. "It looks like you found some things you want."

"Oh my, yes!" Delores turned to smile at him. "Are you sure you don't want a percentage? Mrs. Voelker had some valuable dishes and gla.s.sware."

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Norman shook his head. "It's all yours and Mother's. I've been living with her rent-free and it's the least I can do."

"Well... that's very generous. Just wait until I tell Carrie and Luanne. They're going to be in alt over these fabulous dishes."

Hannah chuckled as she climbed down from the chair. In alt? It was obvious that her mother had attended a meeting of her Regency Romance group recently. Delores had explained that alt referred to alt.i.tude, and the heroines in Regency novels often spoke of being in alt when something took them to the heights of pleasure.

When they'd packed up the gla.s.sware and dishes and Norman had carried the boxes out to the truck, Delores gave one last glance around. "I think that's all. I've looked in every room."

"How about the bas.e.m.e.nt?" Norman asked. "I haven't been down there, but Rhonda said her great-uncle used to do some woodworking."

"Antique tools!" Delores's eyes began to gleam. "They're going for a premium right now. Do you have time for me to take a quick peek?"

"I've got time. How about you, Hannah?"

"It's fine with me." Hannah handed Delores the ap.r.o.n she'd discovered hanging over the back of a kitchen chair. "You'd better put this on, Mother. It might be dusty down there."

Delores tied on the ap.r.o.n and headed for the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs. "Aren't you coming, dear?"

"I can if you need me," Hannah said, giving her mother an exaggerated wink.

"Of course I..." Delores caught the wink and interpreted it correctly. "Actually, I don't. I'm perfectly capable of exploring the bas.e.m.e.nt by myself. Stay right here and keep Norman company. You're both so busy, you don't get much time to spend together and I know you'd like to discuss your plans for the house."

"Right," Hannah said, rolling her eyes at the ceiling. Her

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mother was about as subtle as a sledgehammer. "Holler if you need us and we'll come right down."

Norman waited until Delores had switched on the light and gone down the stairs, and then he turned to Hannah. "What do you think about a picture window in the kitchen? Since it faces the woods, it would be a nice view."

"Yes, it would." Hannah could picture herself sitting at the kitchen table in the morning, sipping a freshly brewed cup of coffee and watching the deer emerge from the trees. That thought was dangerous to her preferred single state, so she quickly asked another question. "How about the living room? That window will face the lake, won't it?"

"That's right, but the master bedroom will have the best view. That's where I'm building the balcony."

Hannah didn't want to think about the master bedroom with its wood-burning fireplace and incredible view. It was just too appealing. She changed the subject again, asking Norman about how he planned to furnish the house. That was interesting and it was only when she glanced up at the old kitchen clock on the wall that she realized almost fifteen minutes had pa.s.sed and they hadn't heard a peep out of Delores.

"Maybe I'd better check on Mother. She's been down there a long time."

"I'll go with you." Norman led the way to the bas.e.m.e.nt doorway. "Delores? Are you all right down there?"

Hannah stood behind Norman, waiting for her mother to respond. When there was no answer, she felt a jolt of fear. "Move over, Norman. I'm going down there."

"Not without me, you're not." Norman had gone down three steps when he stopped abruptly. "Here she comes, now. Back up to give her room."

Hannah backed up, but she gazed over Norman's shoulder to watch her mother climb the stairs. Delores didn't appear to be hurt, but her mouth was set in a tight line. Something had happened in the bas.e.m.e.nt. And judging by the way her LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 65.

mother was gripping the handrail, that something wasn't good.

"Water," Delores croaked as she reached the top of the stairs, and Norman rushed to get her a gla.s.s. She took one sip, handed the gla.s.s back to him, and s.h.i.+vered visibly.

"You look like you just saw a ghost," Hannah commented and immediately wished she hadn't when her mother's face turned even paler.

Delores gave a small smile, so small that it could only be cla.s.sified as a grimace. "Not a ghost. I found... a body!"

Chapter Six.

Delores sighed and leaned back against the headrest in the pa.s.senger seat of Hannah's truck. "You were right, Hannah. The chocolate helped."

"Chocolate always helps." Hannah held out the bag of leftover Chocolate-Covered Cherry Cookies. When she'd started her business, she'd vowed never to sell day-old cookies. She always had some in her truck and she gave them away as samples, telling everyone that if they thought her leftover cookies were good, they should come in and taste them fresh out of the oven. People did, and they were hooked. Business at The Cookie Jar was thriving. "Have another cookie, Mother. I guarantee you'll feel even better."

Norman peered closely at Delores. "Your color's coming back and you're beginning to look like yourself again. When you feel up to it, tell me exactly what you saw. I need to go down to the bas.e.m.e.nt to check it out."

"I'm not going with you!"

"n.o.body expects you to," Hannah a.s.sured her. "I'll go with Norman if you'll tell us exactly where to look."

"In the furnace room, just like I said. It's way in the back. I was standing by a shelf filled with jars when I saw the pile of dirt."

LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 67.

"Okay," Hannah said, reaching in through the open window to pat her mother's arm. "Do you want to come inside with us and sit in the kitchen while we look?"

"No! I'm not setting foot inside that house again, not with that dead body in there. I'll stay right here, thank you very much."

"That's fine, Mother. Just honk the horn if you need us. And if it makes you feel better, roll up the windows and lock all the doors."

Norman led the way toward the house and Hannah followed. They went down the hallway to the kitchen and approached the bas.e.m.e.nt door.

"You don't have to go, Hannah." Norman turned to look at her. "I can take care of it."

"And let you have all the fun?" Hannah gave him a grin. "I want to be there when we discover it's a pile of rags, or a bag of old clothes."