Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen #4)(85)

"He looked positively dashing," Hannah assured her. "Here's my camera. I used up the whole roll. The last one's a picture of Mrs. Robbins making eyes at your dad when he picked up the handkerchief she dropped."

"Do they still drop handkerchiefs?" Lisa wanted to know.

"I don't know, but Mrs. Robbins does. She's eighty-five if she's a day, so she might be a little behind the times."

The Boy Scouts came next and then Bonnie Surma's Brownies, followed by the Jordan High marching band. Hannah resisted the urge to cover her ears, especially when they stopped in the middle of her block to play. Their music was slightly less dreadful than before, and they were so enthusiastic, it made up for a multitude of missed notes and individual struggles with the tempo. Thankfully, blessedly, the bandleader had cut the piccolo obbligato and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief.

Delores, who didn't know a sharp from a natural, tapped Hannah on the shoulder after they'd finished playing and marched on. "Weren't they just wonderful?"

Hannah sputtered for a moment, trying to think of something honest to say. "They improved a lot from last year."

Several more floats rolled by, but they couldn't hold a candle to Andrea's creation. Hannah applauded for the veterans, resplendent in uniforms that had been retrieved from trunks in dusty attics, and she did her share of clapping for The Lake Eden Players, who were dressed in the costumes they'd wear later for their reenactment of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. When the parade was over and

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she still hadn't seen Bridget Murphy's lemon car, Hannah figured that Cyril had fixed it to save himself the embarrassment.

"That's it," Norman said, folding up his chair. "I'm going to take these back to the funeral home and then I'll develop the film."

"These chairs are from the funeral home?" Hannah asked, not sure exactly how she felt about that.

"I borrowed them last night. Digger said to take as many as I needed. Professional courtesy, you know."

"Professional courtesy?"

"He keeps hoping I'll send him some business."

"You mean like one of your patients dying?"

Norman shrugged, but there was a twinkle in his eye. "You know what people say about root canals. They're killers."

Hannah laughed as she helped Norman load the folding chairs in his trunk and she was still grinning when he drove away. Being with Norman always made her feel good. Then she said good-bye to the little group assembled on the sidewalk, went inside The Cookie Jar to help Lisa load up the cupcakes, and headed off to attend the municipal band concert before she drove out to the lake for an afternoon of games and other entertainment.

Hannah arrived at the area of lakeshore that had been designated for public parking with a smile on her face. The band concert in the park had been wonderful. The Lake Eden Municipal Band was a mixed conglomeration of musicians who had settled in the area. Anyone who wanted to put horn or woodwind in hand and practice every week at the community center was welcome. They'd played their full repertoire of Sousa marches and ended with the ever popular strains of "God Bless America."

The town had turned out in full force at Eden Lake and Hannah trolled the parking area in vain for a spot. She finally settled for putting her truck in four-wheel drive and

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parking at the very edge of the lot, on top of the shoulder of the road.

Several hours later, after listening to two boring political speeches, attending one of the Lake Eden Players' performances, and watching some of the games and contests, she wandered over to the picnic area to see if there was anything she could do to help Edna Ferguson, who was in charge of the potluck dinner.

"Hi, Edna," Hannah said, trying not to stare at the older woman's hair. Edna's frizzy gray curls had undergone a transformation since the last time Hannah had seen her. Instead of Edna's natural steel gray, her curls were now blue.

"I know. Looks like you-know-what," Edna said, reaching up to swat at her curls. "Bertie talked me into a rinse the last time I was in and she didn't tell me it would take weeks to wash out."

"It looks very... colorful."

"That's tactful, Hannah, especially for you." Edna chuckled. "All I need is a couple of red and white bows and I'll be all decked out for the Fourth."

"I came over to see if there was anything I could ..."

"Of course there is," Edna interrupted her. "You know no one else ever shows up when there's work to be done. What's the matter? Those two boyfriends of yours desert you?"

Hannah laughed. It was a waste of time to take offense at anything Edna said. She was outspoken and everyone knew it. "Not exactly. Mike had to go back to the station and Norman's home, developing the film he took of the parade. I'm all yours, Edna."

"Well good! You're a lot more help than some people I could name. I suppose your sister's bringing her Jell-O mold again. None of these young girls know how to cook. They're not like you and me."

Hannah bit back a choice retort. Edna was sixty if she was a day, and that made her at least thirty years older than Hannah. She'd lived in Lake Eden all her life and that gave Hannah an idea, especially since Edna had grown up on the