Lemon Meringue Pie Murder Part 31

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yours. It was always my favorite. And please say a prayer for me when you do it."

"That's so sad," Lisa commented, blinking away the tears that had gathered in her eyes. "Who sent it?"

"Someone named 'Speedy.' That's got to be a nickname. I don't know who Speedy is and anyone who might have known is dead."

"Where did the letter come from?"

Hannah shrugged. "I don't know. I can make out part of the date, it's nineteen eighty-something, but the rest of the cancellation is blurred."

"Well, at least Speedy had happy memories of his time in Lake Eden. He talked a lot about the Treasure Hunt game."

"That's what it's called?"

"That's what we called it. Mom used to play it with me every year on my birthday. She hid clues all over the house and she told me where to find the first one. When I found it, I read it and it told me where to find the second clue. There were always at least ten clues written out and when I came to the end, it told me where I'd find my birthday present."

Hannah felt jealous for one brief second. Delores had never played the Treasure Hunt game with her. But that was in the past. "Thanks for telling me about it, Lisa. It sounds like fun."

"It was. Do you want me to set out the rest of the day-old cookies? People might be hungry when they come in."

"Good idea." Hannah stuffed the letter back in her purse and shivered slightly. She'd just read the last words of a dying man, written to a woman who'd been dead and buried for months. To make things even more depressing, she'd found the letter in a murder victim's apartment. There was only one thing to do to turn her mood around. Normally, she would have eaten some chocolate. That was the best antidote for depression. But since chocolate wasn't one of the food groups allowed on her diet, Hannah did the next best thing. "Hold on and I'll help you," she said, levering herself up from the table and heading off to the kitchen to work.

282 * * * 'i By the time her extended family had arrived, Hannah was *

hi much better spirits. They sat eating cookies, drinking cof- * fee, and chatting until almost everyone who'd said they were coming had arrived. "The only two missing are Mike and Bill,'* Hannah com- *< mented,="" turning="" to="" andrea.="" "where="" are="">

"Oh, they're not coming. They're helping with The Cookie ^ Jar float. Mike's towing it with his Jeep and Bill's taking care of the mechanics." ,*

"The mechanics?" $ Andrea looked contrite. "I shouldn't have said anything. I I don't want you to know anything about the float ahead of time."

"I don't. And you didn't actually say anything."

"You'll understand what I meant once you see it. I got the idea from the animated floats they build for the Rose Parade. It's really a terrific concept."

"I'm sure it is," Hannah said, but she had to work to keep the smile on her face. If The Cookie Jar float was anything like the floats in the Rose Parade, Andrea had taken on a project that was much too difficult for a group of preschoolers and seniors to handle. It was bound to be a disaster, but it was too late to back out now and she was going to say she loved it, no matter what happened. She owed it to her sister.

Andrea reached out to squeeze her arm. "Don't look so worried, Hannah. It'll be great, you'll see. It was almost working when I left to come here."

"Great. I'm sure it'll be perfect." Hannah pushed back her chair. "The crowd's lining up out there. We'd better claim a piece of sidewalk before all the good spots are taken."

"No problem," Norman said, rising to take her arm. "Come on, everyone. Just follow me and I'll show you to your seats."

Hannah was surprised as Norman led her through the crowd. They usually stood up to watch the parade. Then she saw the row of folding chairs that had been set up near the LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER.

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curb. Their names were printed on signs hanging from the backs, and Hannah felt like an honored guest as she took the chair with her name.

"This is a great idea, Norman." Hannah smiled over at him.

"Thanks," Norman said, glancing down at his watch. "Only five minutes to go. I'd better get my camera ready."

There was flurry of activity as Lisa dispensed her disposable cameras and told everyone how to use them. She'd just finished when the vintage convertible carrying Mayor Bas...o...b..and his wife rounded the corner. He was wearing a white straw boater with red, white, and blue ribbons around its brim, and she was dressed in a white dress with red and blue stripes. The parade had begun. The Cookie Jar float-would be next.

Hannah applauded as the boys and girls from Tracey's cla.s.s marched around the corner. They were wearing sandwich boards shaped and colored like cookies, and each one was carrying a white wicker basket lined with red and blue paper napkins. As Hannah watched, they scattered into the crowd, offering the patriotic cookies that Hannah had baked and Lisa had decorated.

"They're darling," Hannah said, snapping a picture of Bertie Straub as she accepted a cookie from one of Tracey's cla.s.smates. "Whatever you do, Norman, don't miss getting a shot of Tracey."

"I won't. Andrea already cued me in. I'm supposed to catch her at the apex."

"What apex?"

"You'll see."

The applause grew in volume and Hannah turned to look as two Jordan High students rounded the corner carrying a sign that read FIRST-PLACE WINNER.

"I told you we'd win!" Lisa shouted, running over to hug Hannah. Then she rushed over to hug Andrea, and all three of them laughed in excitement.

The applause grew even louder as Mike's Jeep began to 284 round the corner. The kids and seniors had draped red, white, and blue bunting on the sides. Mike looked incredibly handsome in a shirt that was printed in an American flag pattern. Hannah's breath caught in her throat for a moment and her heart raced in her chest. To think that the most handsome man ever to set foot in Lake Eden chose to date her was very close to getting everything on your Christmas list. Reluctantly, she tore her eyes away from Mike and took her first look at The Cookie Jar float.

Hannah was aware that her mouth had dropped open, but she couldn't help it. The float was a masterpiece, a giant cookie jar done in red, white, and blue. As Hannah watched, the cover flipped back and Tracey rose from the depths, her smile as wide as Eden Lake.

"Oh!" Hannah gasped, staring at her niece in awe. Tracey was wearing a Lady Liberty costume, complete with torch and crown, and she was as cute as a b.u.t.ton. She started to wave regally at the crowd, but her enthusiasm got the best of her when she spotted Hannah.

"Hi, Aunt Hannah!" Tracey yelled out. "Do you like it?"

"I love it!" Hannah shouted back, and then Tracey began to sink slowly out of sight inside the giant cookie jar, reaching up at the last minute to close the lid behind her.

"Do you really love it?" Andrea asked, looking a bit anxious.

"It's completely stupendous, marvelous, and fantastic," Hannah a.s.sured her. "And Tracey looks just adorable. I saw Mike driving, but where's Bill?"

"Can't you tell? Bill's down in the cookie jar, lifting Tracey up and down against counterweights."

"Of course. The mechanics." Hannah grinned at her sister. "Now I understand."

"I knew he'd get the kinks worked out. Tracey's standing in a box that Bill attached to counterweights. We were going to use hydraulics, but it made too much noise."

One by one the floats pa.s.sed by. Hannah didn't think any 285.

of them could compare to The Cookie Jar float. She applauded with everyone else as the wheelchairs from the convalescent home came into view, the spokes of their wheels decked out with red, white, and blue crepe paper. Even the walkers were decorated with streamers and stars, and Jack Herman led the seniors in his Uncle Sam costume.

"Didn't Dad look wonderful?" Lisa asked, racing back from the street where she'd taken her pictures.

"He looked positively dashing," Hannah a.s.sured her. "Here's my camera. I used up the whole roll. The last one's a picture of Mrs. Robbins making eyes at your dad when he picked up the handkerchief she dropped."

"Do they still drop handkerchiefs?" Lisa wanted to know.

"I don't know, but Mrs. Robbins does. She's eighty-five if she's a day, so she might be a little behind the times."

The Boy Scouts came next and then Bonnie Surma's Brownies, followed by the Jordan High marching band. Hannah resisted the urge to cover her ears, especially when they stopped in the middle of her block to play. Their music was slightly less dreadful than before, and they were so enthusiastic, it made up for a mult.i.tude of missed notes and individual struggles with the tempo. Thankfully, blessedly, the bandleader had cut the piccolo obbligato and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief.

Delores, who didn't know a sharp from a natural, tapped Hannah on the shoulder after they'd finished playing and marched on. "Weren't they just wonderful?"

Hannah sputtered for a moment, trying to think of something honest to say. "They improved a lot from last year."

Several more floats rolled by, but they couldn't hold a candle to Andrea's creation. Hannah applauded for the veterans, resplendent in uniforms that had been retrieved from trunks in dusty attics, and she did her share of clapping for The Lake Eden Players, who were dressed in the costumes they'd wear later for their reenactment of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. When the parade was over and 286 she still hadn't seen Bridget Murphy's lemon car, Hannah figured that Cyril had fixed it to save himself the embarra.s.sment.

"That's it," Norman said, folding up his chair. "I'm going to take these back to the funeral home and then I'll develop the film."

"These chairs are from the funeral home?" Hannah asked, not sure exactly how she felt about that.

"I borrowed them last night. Digger said to take as many as I needed. Professional courtesy, you know."

"Professional courtesy?"

"He keeps hoping I'll send him some business."

"You mean like one of your patients dying?"

Norman shrugged, but there was a twinkle in his eye. "You know what people say about root ca.n.a.ls. They're killers."

Hannah laughed as she helped Norman load the folding chairs in his trunk and she was still grinning when he drove away. Being with Norman always made her feel good. Then she said good-bye to the little group a.s.sembled on the sidewalk, went inside The Cookie Jar to help Lisa load up the cupcakes, and headed off to attend the munic.i.p.al band concert before she drove out to the lake for an afternoon of games and other entertainment.

Hannah arrived at the area of lakesh.o.r.e that had been designated for public parking with a smile on her face. The band concert in the park had been wonderful. The Lake Eden Munic.i.p.al Band was a mixed conglomeration of musicians who had settled in the area. Anyone who wanted to put horn or woodwind in hand and practice every week at the community center was welcome. They'd played their full repertoire of Sousa marches and ended with the ever popular strains of "G.o.d Bless America."

The town had turned out in full force at Eden Lake and Hannah trolled the parking area in vain for a spot. She finally settled for putting her truck in four-wheel drive and LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER.

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parking at the very edge of the lot, on top of the shoulder of the road.

Several hours later, after listening to two boring political speeches, attending one of the Lake Eden Players' performances, and watching some of the games and contests, she wandered over to the picnic area to see if there was anything she could do to help Edna Ferguson, who was in charge of the potluck dinner.

"Hi, Edna," Hannah said, trying not to stare at the older woman's hair. Edna's frizzy gray curls had undergone a transformation since the last time Hannah had seen her. Instead of Edna's natural steel gray, her curls were now blue.

"I know. Looks like you-know-what," Edna said, reaching up to swat at her curls. "Bertie talked me into a rinse the last time I was in and she didn't tell me it would take weeks to wash out."

"It looks very... colorful."

"That's tactful, Hannah, especially for you." Edna chuckled. "All I need is a couple of red and white bows and I'll be all decked out for the Fourth."

"I came over to see if there was anything I could ..."

"Of course there is," Edna interrupted her. "You know no one else ever shows up when there's work to be done. What's the matter? Those two boyfriends of yours desert you?"

Hannah laughed. It was a waste of time to take offense at anything Edna said. She was outspoken and everyone knew it. "Not exactly. Mike had to go back to the station and Norman's home, developing the film he took of the parade. I'm all yours, Edna."

"Well good! You're a lot more help than some people I could name. I suppose your sister's bringing her Jell-O mold again. None of these young girls know how to cook. They're not like you and me."

Hannah bit back a choice retort. Edna was sixty if she was a day, and that made her at least thirty years older than Hannah. She'd lived in Lake Eden all her life and that gave Hannah an idea, especially since Edna had grown up on the 288 family farm right next to the Voelker place. "You knew Mrs. Voelker, didn't you, Edna?"

"Sure, I did. She put up the best peach jam in the county. Everybody around was real sorry when she got in that accident and ended up in the wheelchair. No more peach jam for the neighbors."

Hannah nodded, wondering if people would speak of her that way when she was dead, mourning not her, but the loss of her cookies. "Do you remember a boy named Speedy that visited Mrs. Voelker?"

"Speedy?" Edna started to shake her head. "No, I don't think ... Yes, I do! He was some kind of shirttail relation and he spent a whole summer with her. That boy was a regular fishing fool. He used to race through his ch.o.r.es so he could get down to the lake to fish. That's why she called him Speedy. Half the time she ended up stripping the cows herself after the morning milking, but she told us he had a hard time at home and she was going to see he had fun for a change."

"Do you remember Speedy's real name?"

Edna sighed. "Can't say as I do. I suppose I knew it back then, but that was a long time ago."

"Will you tell me if you think of it?"

"Sure will. So, is she?"

Hannah blinked. Edna had obviously switched to another topic of conversation. "Is she what?"

"Bringing her Jell-O mold. Andrea, that is."

"Oh!" Hannah switched gears. "Not this time. She's bringing chips and dip for the appetizer table."

"Well, heaven be praised! One less Jell-O bowl to contend with. Why don't you dump some ice in the bottom of some of those coolers we borrowed so we can refrigerate the things that we have to keep chilled. You didn't bring a dessert with whipped cream, did you?"

"Would I do something like that?" Hannah asked, grinning at Edna.

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"No, I don't guess you would. Marge Beeseman will though. You mark my words. And she'll put the whipped cream on at home, not leave it in the can the way it said to do in the flyer. And then she'll complain because it drooped!"

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

4 6" i /Tmm!" Hannah voiced her approval as she tasted the IVJLbeef Norman had barbecued. "Delicious."

"Thanks, Hannah." Norman, who was sitting on her right side at one of the picnic tables, looked pleased by the compliment "It sure is," Mike commented from his spot at Hannah's left side. "I used to do a little barbecuing, but my beef was never this good."

"It's all in the sauce. A cut like this has to be marinated overnight. That way the flavor gets all the way through. It's not too much garlic for you?"

"Just right," Mike said, cutting off another bite. "Any less would be lost and any more would be overdoing it. I'd sure like that sauce recipe if you're giving it out."