Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen #4)(31)

"You're welcome. It was fun seeing you and Norman together. Carrie and I talked about it on the way home and we both think you make such a nice couple."

"Thanks," Hannah said, leaving it at that. Delores sounded perky and chipper, and Hannah admired her mother's energy. Most women approaching their sixtieth birthday would be exhausted after working all day and going out to dinner, not to mention finding a murder victim. "I need some information, Mother."

"About Rhonda? I just got home and I haven't had a chance to make any calls yet."

"Not about Rhonda, at least not directly. I need to know about those broken jam jars in the furnace room. Are you absolutely sure you didn't drop them on the floor?"

"I'm positive. I didn't even touch them. I remember stepping around them and thinking that someone ought to clean them up."

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"Okay. Thanks, Mother. You've been a big help. I'll let you go now and I'll see you ..."

"Just a minute, Hannah," Delores interrupted before Hannah could hang up the phone. "I just want you to know that I'm very heartened about this thing with Norman."

"What thing?"

"The fact that you sided with him, instead of Mike. That means a lot to a man and you made the right decision. I like Mike well enough, but he's not good husband material."

Hannah drew a deep breath and let it out again slowly. Then she said, very carefully, "Don't get your hopes up, Mother. Neither one of them has proposed yet. And I'm not sure what I'd say if they did."

"Good girl, Hannah!" Delores exclaimed, giving a light-hearted laugh. "I always told you it wasn't smart to wear your heart on your sleeve."

Hannah knew she should leave well enough alone, but she couldn't resist. "Andrea did and it worked for her. Everyone knew she was crazy about Bill."

"That's different. They were young and he gave her his class ring when she was a senior. That made them pre-engaged. And after that, they were recognized as a couple, and everyone expected them to get married. It's really not fair to compare your current situation with your sister's. Andrea never dated two men at the same time."

Hannah clamped her mouth shut and didn't say a word. She happened to know that her sister had dated two boys in high school who'd never known about each other. It was obvious that Delores hadn't known about them either, and Hannah wasn't going to be the one to tell her.

"I've got to run, dear. I'm starting to crack."

"Crack?"

"My face. I'm giving myself a facial and my fifteen minutes are up. If I don't wash it off now, I'll have to peel it. Goodnight, dear."

When she'd hung up the phone, Hannah glanced at Moishe,

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who'd been listening to her conversation. His tail was swishing back and forth, his ears were back, and he'd puffed up into attack mode. Hannah grinned and reached out to smooth his fur. "It's okay. I hung up and I don't have to talk to her again tonight."

But Moishe wasn't that easily soothed. His tail continued to flick and he regarded her with baleful eyes.

"Come on, Moishe." Hannah reached out for him again. "If you come closer, I'll scratch your ears."

Moishe regarded her solemnly for several seconds and then he moved to the far side of the couch, putting as much space between them as possible.

"I'm not the enemy here, Moishe. As a matter of fact, I saved you from seeing Mother tonight. She offered to pick me up here and take me to dinner. If I'd agreed to that, she might have come in when she brought me home. Think about it. You would have hated that!"

Hannah wasn't sure what went on in a cat's mind, but Moishe seemed to take it all in. He stared at her for several seconds and then he turned around, inching forward until his head was resting in her lap.

"That's better," Hannah said, scratching his ears and earning a rumble for her efforts. "I knew you'd see it my way. Aren't you glad I have my own wheels and I can drive myself? I don't have to rely on ..."

When Hannah stopped speaking and scratching his ears, Moishe lifted his head to stare up at her. His expression was as quizzical as a cat's expression could get.

"I just thought of something," Hannah told him. "I don't remember seeing Rhonda's car at the Voelker place. I know it wasn't in the driveway when I pulled up, and it couldn't have been in the garage. I looked through the window and it was filled with firewood."

Hannah interpreted the expression on Moishe's face to mean, Yes? So what? and she went on. "If Rhonda drove out there, her car would be there. But if she rode with someone

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else, her car should be parked in the garage at her apartment building."

Moishe made a sound, a cross between a yowl and a purr, and Hannah nodded, just as if he'd suggested another possibility. He was a social being and he liked to be included in the conversation. "You're right, Moishe. The only other possibility is that Rhonda's car was at the Voelker place and her killer stole it to make his getaway."

Hannah flipped to a blank page in her notebook and jotted a reminder to check Rhonda's apartment building for her car. If she found it parked in its assigned spot, her next step would be to canvass the neighbors to see if anyone had seen Rhonda leave.