Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen #4)(50)

Claire thought about that for a moment. "All right. Bob got to my apartment at seven and he didn't leave until after midnight. And he brought me osso buco."

"Good. I can cross him off the list." Hannah gave a relieved sigh. "If you don't mind my asking, why did his grandmother think he was at a church meeting?"

Claire gave a little smile. "Because that's where he was supposed to be. It was Ecumenical Council night, but they canceled. Bob found out late that afternoon and we ... well ... we just took advantage of the moment. By the way, he's an incredible dancer."

"Reverend Knudson?"

"Yes. He put himself through college by working part time as a dance instructor. Bob can tango better than anybody I know. He's just wild."

Hannah blinked. She really had trouble imagining the

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solemn man who stood behind the pulpit at Redeemer Lutheran dancing a wild tango. "You went out dancing?"

"Not out. We shoved back the furniture and danced in my living room. Bob's just wonderful, Hannah. I've never been so happy in my life. He's almost got me persuaded to let him announce our engagement to the congregation and let the chips fall where they may."

Hannah sighed. She wished Claire well, but those would be some pretty big chips.

"I know what you're thinking, but even when I was involved with Richard, I stayed active in the church. I can always be the reformed sinner that Bob redeemed."

Another thought occurred to Hannah that she knew she shouldn't ask, but that had never stopped her before: "Do you really think you could be a small-town minister's wife?"

"I think so. I know I'd like to be Bob's wife. There's only one thing stopping me."

"Your past?"

"No, Bob doesn't care about that. But I don't read music and every other minister's wife in town plays the organ."

Hannah glanced at her watch as she pulled into a space in front of the Rhodes Dental Clinic. She was twenty minutes early for her lunch date with Norman despite the fact that she'd stopped off to deliver Loretta's Praline Charlottes. She got out of her truck, locked it up, and walked into the waiting room. She could hear voices in the back, coming from one of the examining rooms. Norman was still with a patient. Rather than sit and page through magazines she didn't want to read anyway, Hannah decided to dash up the block to Lake Eden Neighborhood Drugs and talk to Jon Walker about Rhonda's work at the drugstore.

The heat was shimmering up in little waves from the sidewalk as Hannah walked to the drugstore. Main Street was practically deserted and she could understand why. Anyone with half a brain was inside with curtains drawn and fan

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Joanne Fluke

blades whirling as fast as they could to move the sluggish air. The heat today was powerful enough to make Hannah wish that the Lake Eden City Council would legislate required siestas.

As Hannah walked, she caught herself stepping over the cracks in the sidewalk. Grandma Ingrid had once told her that if she stepped on a crack, she'd break her mother's back. The old rhyme had evidently sunk deeply into her subconscious. Of course she didn't believe it. She doubted she'd believed it then. But twenty-five years had passed since she'd first heard that childish warning and she was still altering her pace to avoid the cracks.

There was a large revolving fan on a stand in the open doorway of the drugstore and Hannah moved around it to step inside. The lighting was dim compared to the brightness of the summer sun. She stopped several feet from the door to let her pupils adjust When her eyes had done their retinal magic and enabled her to make out obstacles again, she realized that she was standing next to the candy counter and quickly moved over to a display of stuffed toys.

"Hello, Hannah."

A voice greeted her from the dusky interior. Hannah gave a little wave as she spotted Linda Nelson. "Hi, Linda. I didn't know you were working here."

"I'm Beth Halverson's summer replacement. She got a scholarship to science camp."

Hannah nodded. Beth was the piccolo player who would be sorely missed by everyone who heard the Jordan High marching band. "I need to talk to Jon. Is he around?"

"He's in the pharmacy. Come with me and I'll call him."

Hannah was surprised. The last time she'd come in to talk to Jon, one of the clerks had just slipped behind the counter, opened the door to the pharmacy, and told Jon that Hannah wanted to see him. "Why do you have to call him?"

"New regulations. We're not allowed behind the pharmacy counter and the door is kept locked. If someone wants Mr. Walker, we have to call him on the phone."

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"You had a break-in?" Hannah guessed.

"I don't know. Mr. Walker just told us the new rules when we came in to work Friday morning. He didn't explain why."

Hannah followed Linda to the front of the pharmacy counter and watched as she punched a series of numbers into the phone. It rang in the pharmacy, the door behind the counter opened, and Jon Walker came out. He was a full-blooded Chippewa Indian, born at Red Lake Reservation. When it had been time for Jon to start high school, his family had moved to Lake Eden and Jon had graduated from Jordan High. He'd gone on to college and come back to Lake Eden to buy the drugstore and take over the pharmacy.

"What can I do for you, Hannah?" Jon asked, locking the door behind him.