Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen #4)(47)

"That's right." Mike lowered his window, looked out for a moment, and then he turned to grin at her. "It's a good thing you didn't go inside. Here comes the bus now."

Hannah glanced out his window, but all she saw was an empty road. "Where? I don't see anything."

"You'll see it when it comes over the hill."

"Who do you think you are?" Hannah asked, eyeing him with some amusement. "Supercop with x-ray vision?"

"No, but I might try out for Supercop with subsonic hearing"

"You/zear^thebus?"

"That's right. A diesel engine's got a certain high-pitched whine to it. On a still night it'll carry for a long way."

Hannah stared at him, but he didn't seem to be putting her on. "Okay, I believe you even though I've met the bus lots of times and I never heard a whine."

"You probably wouldn't notice."

"Because it's a cop thing?"

"No, it's a trucker thing. My father was an owner-operator

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and I drove most of his short runs every summer. It gets boring, driving the same route day after day. I looked for ways to amuse myself and I started concentrating on the sounds trucks make. I got so good, I could tell a Peterbilt from a Kenworth a quarter-mile away."

Hannah had been aware of a low rumbling noise while Mike spoke and it had increased in volume. Her eyes widened as a Greyhound bus crested the hill and began its descent. "You were right. There's the bus. I hope Michelle's trip wasn't too boring."

"I'm sure she found someone to talk to. She's a very pretty woman."

"Girl," Hannah corrected him. "She's still a teenager."

"Just barely. I've known a few nineteen-year-olds. They'd much rather be thought of as young women."

"I suppose you're right." Hannah gave him a sharp glance as she climbed out of the car. She wanted to know more about the nineteen-year-olds he'd known, but it wasn't a good idea to ask. Mike didn't talk about his past very much and he'd already told her about driving his father's truck. That was enough for one night.

As they walked, Hannah glanced up at the halogen lights by the bus loading and unloading area. Moths were fluttering around the bulbs in uneven halos, attracted to the hot light despite its danger. As she watched, several fell back down to the pavement and were crushed under the feet of the people who had gathered to meet the bus.

Mike found a spot near the front of the crowd and Hannah stood close to his side. He reached out to take her arm and smiled down at her. "Are you excited about seeing her again?"

"Yes," Hannah said, smiling back. There were times when she indulged in a bit of nostalgia, remembering how she'd helped Delores soothe Michelle through bouts of colic when she was a baby, carrying her on mile-long treks around the living room until she'd finally gone to sleep.

The bus pulled up with a loud snort and a squeal of brakes, spewing out a black plume of what Hannah now knew was

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diesel exhaust. There was a moment of expectation while the driver flicked on the interior lights and checked something on his clipboard. Then the door opened with a mechanical hiss and a plump woman in a nurse's uniform climbed down the steps. She was followed by a man carrying a raincoat, a mother with a baby in her arms, and an older gentleman wearing a straw hat.

There was a long pause as a young man struggled to navigate the steps with a package large enough to contain a tuba. Once he'd successfully disembarked, two teenage girls in jeans and sweaters stepped off the bus.

Hannah began to frown. There was only one more passenger waiting to get off the bus and it wasn't Michelle. "Oh-oh. I think she missed the bus."

"No, she didn't. She's right there at the top of the stairs."

Hannah gave the woman a second glance. She had bright green streaks in her hair and a tattoo on her left shoulder, an in-your-face rendition of a coiled snake. She was wearing a shiny gold top that was so tight Hannah could see every breath she took, and her red pants were hip-height at the waist, exposing her navel. As far as Hannah could see there was no one standing behind her waiting to get off. "I don't see her. Where is she?"

"Right there. With the green hair."

Hannah took another look. The apparition was still at the top of the stairs and she appeared to be having trouble with one of her gold, high-heeled tennis shoes. The heel was stuck in the metal grating of the step.

"That's not Michelle," Hannah said, shaking her head.

"Yes, it is. Watch this."

Mike stepped closer to wave at the green-haired woman. "Hi, Michelle. Over here!"

The woman's face lit up in a smile and she waved back. "Hi, Hannah! Just a sec. My shoe's stuck."

It was Michelle. Hannah groaned. She knew that college students often followed the newest clothing fads and she'd expected that Michelle might have a slightly different look,

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but nothing could have prepared her for seeing her baby sister in an outfit that looked like ...

"I'll go help her," Mike said, interrupting the thoughts that Hannah didn't want to think anyway. "Don't worry. It's probably just some stage she's going through."