Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen #4)(34)

Hannah shook her head. There was one name left, Claire Rodgers. And Claire had bought three pies. Hannah stopped to think about that for a moment. Claire was single and she

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lived alone. If she'd bought three pies, she must have planned to take them somewhere. Was it possible she'd given one of her pies to Rhonda?

Several more sips of idea-generating caffeine and Hannah had come up with a possible scenario. What if Rhonda had gone into Claire's shop on Friday afternoon to purchase a new wardrobe for her trip? If Claire had already picked up her pies, Rhonda might have seen them and mentioned that she liked lemon meringue. Claire might have given one pie to Rhonda as a thank-you, especially if Rhonda had just spent a lot of money on clothes.

Hannah knew her scenario was reasonable. It could have happened that way. She'd drop by Beau Monde the first chance she got and ask Claire if she was right.

The sky was beginning to lighten by the time Hannah turned into the alley behind The Cookie Jar, but she didn't turn off her headlights. They were still necessary to distinguish the dark blobs of the Dumpsters from the darker blobs of the buildings.

Hannah parked in her spot and shut the windows, but she left an inch gap on the driver's side to defeat the greenhouse effect. She grabbed the old beach towel she kept on the passenger's seat, folded it twice because it was so threadbare, and draped it over the steering wheel. The seats in her truck didn't get that hot. They were upholstered in fabric. But her steering wheel was covered in black vinyl and it soaked up the sun. All would be well if she'd wear oven mitts to drive, but she didn't.

As Hannah stepped out of her truck, the air hit her like a tangible force. She'd never really thought about air having weight before, but this air was like walking through invisible pudding. It was so heavy with moisture, the humidity had to be close to the hundred-percent mark.

The first thing Hannah did when she stepped inside her

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kitchen was switch on the air conditioning. The next thing she did was to check to see if the cooler was running. It was, and she heaved a big sigh of relief as she carried out the bowls of cookie dough and set them on the surface of the workstation. She had the urge to drag a stool into the cooler and sit there for a while, but there was work to do and she didn't have time. She fired up her ovens, clamped one of the little paper caps mandated by the health board over her unruly red curls, and washed her hands thoroughly. Then she tied on an apron and got right to work. There were multiple batches of cookies to bake and she wanted to finish before Lisa came in. Her partner had enough work to do waiting on their customers, taking phone orders, and boxing up cookies for special orders.

Just as she'd planned, Hannah had finished the baking when Lisa arrived. Racks of cooling Black and Whites, Oatmeal Raisin Crisps, and Twin Chocolate Delights filled the kitchen, and other varieties of cookies were already in the glass jars they used for display behind the coffee shop counter.

"You've been busy!" Lisa exclaimed, glancing around her. "How many did you snitch?"

"None. I didn't even taste the Cinnamon Crisps and that's my newest recipe."

"Where did you get it?" Lisa asked, reaching for one and taking a bite.

"I made it up. My dad used to make us cinnamon toast for breakfast when Mother was out antiquing. I thought that cookies with the same taste would be good."

"They are good," Lisa said, taking another bite. 'They're crunchy and simple and absolutely delicious."

"You really like them?"

"Well... I'm not exactly sure, now that I think about it" Lisa gave an impish grin. "I might have to eat a few more before I can make up my mind."

Hannah laughed. "Go ahead. This batch is a test run. I won't sell them until I get them perfect."

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"They're perfect." Lisa grabbed two more cookies and headed for the swinging door to the coffee shop, "I'll start the coffee and fill the rest of the serving jars."

The chores didn't take long with both of them working together. When they'd finished, they had twenty minutes before it was time for them to open, and they carried mugs of coffee to their favorite table in the back of the coffee shop.

"Did you decide?" Lisa asked, taking the chair across from Hannah.

"About the Cinnamon Crisps?"

"No, about Rhonda. You're going to catch her killer, aren't you?"

"I'm going to try."

"Good." Lisa shivered slightly and cupped her hands around her mug of coffee. "I just can't get over it. She was here one day and dead the next. How about that pie you found? Do you think it has anything to do with her murder?"

"Maybe, but even if it doesn't, it'll help me establish a timeline for the day of her death. I need to know where she went, who she talked to, and what she did."

"That seems like a good place to start. What can I do to help?"

"Just keep your ears open. People talk and someone may know something about Rhonda's last hours. If you pick up anything, tell me right away and ..." Hannah stopped speaking and winced.

"What's the matter?" Lisa asked, looking concerned.

"I'm getting a terrible headache. I swear I can actually hear my head pounding."