Lemon Meringue Pie Murder Part 9

"Norman?!" Hannah was so startled her pen dug a little hole in the page. "Why would Norman want Rhonda dead?"

"Because he bought her house. If he thought he paid too much for it, he would have been mad enough to kill her."

"That doesn't fly, Mother. Norman told me he made Rhonda a lowball offer and he got the house at a steal."

Delores frowned slightly and it was clear she wasn't happy about Hannah's revelation. "If you say so, dear. The house wasn't the motive then, but it doesn't mean that Norman didn't kill her. It's motive, means, and opportunity ... isn't that right?"

"It's right enough for the cop shows."

"That's good enough for me. Norman had the opportunity. He knew that Rhonda was going out there over the weekend to pick up some mementos."

"That's true," Hannah said, but she set down her pen. "I LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 83.

agree that Norman had the opportunity, but how about the means? I'm not even sure Norman owns a knife."

"He could have bought one. They've got all sorts of knives at Lake Eden Hardware. And since Norman has medical training, he would have known exactly how to stab Rhonda."

Hannah laughed. She couldn't help it. The thought of Norman as a mad killer wielding a knife he'd just purchased was ridiculous. "Norman's a dentist. If he'd used his medical knowledge to kill Rhonda, he would have shot her full of Xylocaine or something like that."

"You've got a point." Delores sighed deeply. "That's all right. I didn't really think Norman did it anyway. We'd better move on to someone else."

"Who?" '

"Rhonda's boyfriend. Couples always have a reason to kill each other, especially if it's a pa.s.sionate relationship."

Hannah picked up her pen. She was still determined not to get involved, but the idea of a boyfriend had definite possibilities. "Okay, who is he?"

"I don't know."

That stopped Hannah cold for a moment. "But you think Rhonda had one?"

"All that flirting must have amounted to something. Rhonda tried to entice every man that walked into the drugstore."

Hannah nodded, glad that her mother hadn't gotten wind of Rhonda's flirtation with Bill. It had happened less than a year ago when Hannah and Bill had gone to Rhonda's cosmetic counter to ask her about a lipstick mark that had been part of the evidence in Bill's first murder case. All the while they'd asked questions, Rhonda had flirted with Bill outrageously. When Hannah had mentioned it later, Bill had brushed it off. He'd said that Rhonda always flirted with the guys and it didn't really mean anything.

"A flirt isn't necessarily any more than that," Hannah reminded her mother. "Rhonda might have run for the hills if a man had tried anything."

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"Don't be silly, dear. I'm positive that Rhonda had a boyfriend."

"How do you know?"

"It's deductive reasoning. Bertie told me that Rhonda had a standing appointment to have her roots touched up. And a woman doesn't have her hair colored unless she's trying to look younger for a man."

"Really?" Hannah's eyes narrowed and she eyed her mother closely. At the time of her father's funeral, her mother's dark hair had been sprinkled with gray.

Delores noticed Hannah's expression and she colored slightly. "Of course there could be other reasons. Rhonda might have wanted to look good for her job. As a matter of fact, I have Bertie touch up my hair every month or so. It makes me look more professional."

"Right," Hannah said, accepting her mother's excuse at face value. There was no way she wanted to consider the possibility that her mother had a love life.

"I'm almost positive that Rhonda was involved with someone. There was just too much gossip and where there's smoke, there's fire. Everyone was talking about Rhonda and the UPS man a while back. Of course I didn't pay much attention to it. I don't approve of gossip."

Hannah did her best to keep a straight face. Delores had called her with the story about Rhonda and the UPS man the moment it had hit the telephone wires. "Do you want me to write down the UPS man?"

"Just put down a question mark. I'll know what it means."

Hannah made a big question mark and underlined it. "We only have one suspect and that's a question mark. Who else do you want to add?"

"I'm not sure. I'll call you later when I've had a chance to think about it." Delores slid off the stool and headed for the door. "You don't have to be anything except my sounding board, dear. Since you told Mike you wouldn't get involved, I'll solve Rhonda's murder all by myself."

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"Do you really think you can do it?" Hannah couldn't resist asking.

"Of course. I'm an intelligent woman and I love solving puzzles. I'll find out who killed Rhonda. Trust me."

Hannah stared at the door as it closed behind Delores. In her experience, only people who didn't know what they were doing said "trust me." Perhaps she was grossly underestimating her mother's crime-solving abilities, but Hannah had doubts about trusting the woman whose VCR had been flashing twelve A.M. for the past four years.

"I still can't believe she's dead," Lisa said, reaching into her purse and pulling out her car keys. It was already five-thirty and she'd stayed an extra half hour to help Hannah finish mixing up dough for the next morning. "Did you know it was Rhonda when you told me about it?"

"I suspected it was, but I didn't want to say until they made a positive identification."

"And you're still not going to investigate?"

Hannah shook her head. "Mike and Bill don't need me and I have things of my own to do."

"Well... if you change your mind, I'll take over the workload."

"Thanks, Lisa." Hannah flashed her a smile. "Now get out of here so you have time to change clothes before your date."

Once Lisa had left, Hannah rinsed off the things they'd used and stacked them in the industrial dishwasher. The brochure that had come with the dishwasher claimed that there was no need for pre-rinsing, but old habits died hard. She was about to pour in the detergent when there was a knock at the back door.

"Hannah?" Norman's voice carried through the door. "I need to talk to you for a minute."

Hannah set the detergent on the counter and hurried to

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the door to let him in. "Hi, Norman. I just ditched the last of the coffee, but I can offer you a cookie."

"No, thanks. I gained some weight and I'm trying to take it off. No more snacking between meals."

Hannah eyed Norman closely. He didn't look like he'd gained an ounce. "How many pounds are we talking about here?"

"Three."

Hannah came very close to losing it. Three pounds were hardly worth going on a diet. She had almost seven times more to lose.

"What?" Norman asked. "You look angry about something."

"That's because I have more weight to lose than you do. And I'm not really angry. This is my regular Fm-on-a-diet expression."

"Why are you dieting? You look great to me."

"You're not just saying that?"

"I never just say anything. And I think people should look real, not like fashion models."

"But you think the models are attractive, don't you?"

Norman shrugged. "Sure. But I wouldn't want to date one, if that's what you mean."

"Why? They're really glamorous."

"I know, but that's not a big selling point for me. I think women should look like ... well,.. women. They shouldn't look like starving teenagers."

Hannah found herself feeling better by the minute. Perhaps she wasn't that overweight after all. Both Lisa and Norman had said that they didn't think she had to lose weight.

"I came to ask a favor, Hannah." Norman abruptly switched gears. "Mother called earlier and I know the body in the bas.e.m.e.nt was Rhonda. I want you to investigate her murder."

Hannah blinked. Norman really ought to beep when he reversed directions like that. "Why do you want me to investigate?"

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"Because you're good at it. And because I have a vested interest."

Hannah sighed. Not the vested interest thing again! Norman was echoing her mother's reasoning. "Is it because you saw Rhonda's body and you feel a certain obligation?"

"Not really. It's just that the sheriff's department roped off the whole house as a crime scene and they won't let me tear it down until the case is solved. I've got the demolition crew coming on Sat.u.r.day and I really hate to cancel. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I'm on a tight time schedule. If I don't start building before winter comes, I'll have to wait until the spring."

Hannah felt her stress level rise and she squelched the urge to grab a cookie. Her mother wanted her to investigate and now Norman was climbing on that bandwagon. What was a girl to do?

"Mike and Bill don't want me involved," Hannah said, not meeting Norman's eyes. Her excuse sounded weak, even to her.

"That's never stopped you before. Come on, Hannah. I'm asking you as a friend. After all, it's our dream house."

"I know," Hannah said. It was their dream house and a little digging around could do nothing but help Mike and Bill. She loved the blueprints they'd made together and she wanted to see their house built almost as much as Norman did.

"Then you'll do it?"

Hannah considered her options and discarded them one by one. She could bow out and risk alienating her mother and Norman, two of the most important people in her life. Lisa would be disappointed in her, too. She'd offered to take over the workload and that meant she wanted Hannah to investigate. Mike and Bill wouldn't be happy if she got involved, but they were the only ones. And wasn't there something about the greater good? Pleasing three people was more important than pleasing only two.

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"At least think about it," Norman urged, reaching out to take her hand. "This is very important to me, Hannah."

"It's important to me, too. Give me some time, Norman. I'll think about it tonight and let you know what I decide in the morning."

"That's good enough for me.T Norman stood up and smiled at her. "I know you'll do the right thing. You always do."

It was a good exit line and Norman took it, going out the door without another word. Hannah was left in a thoughtful mood as she started the dishwater, did her nightly check of the exits, and made sure everything was securely locked. Once that was done, she loaded up the leftover cookies and placed them in a box. She was just carrying it to the back door when the telephone rang.

Hannah groaned. She had a good notion to walk straight out the door and lock it behind her, but it was difficult to ignore a ringing phone. She set the box she was carrying on a stool and walked over to pick it up. "The Cookie Jar. This is Hannah speaking."

"What are you doing there so late?"

It was Andrea and Hannah sighed. "I was just about to leave, but the phone rang."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hold you up."

"That's okay," Hannah said, starting to grin. "I had to come back to answer the phone anyway."

"No, you didn't... I mean ... That doesn't make any ... You're kidding me, right?"

"Right." Hannah laughed out loud. Andrea's sputtering reaction was even better than she'd hoped for. "What did you want to tell me?"

"Two things. I couldn't get your pillow at CostMart, because they were all out. They're getting more in, but not until later in the week. I made them give me a rain check so you'll still get the sale price."

"Thanks, Andrea." Hannah was grateful. She probably wouldn't have thought to ask for a rain check. "What's the second thing you had to tell me?"

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"Mother called and she told me she was going to investigate Rhonda's murder."

"That's true. She told me the same thing."

"You've got to talk her out of it, Hannah. You're older and she'll listen to you."

"No, she won't. She's never listened to me."