Part 16 (1/2)
”Of course not. Remember that car he gave her for her birthday? Well, it's broken down three times. Bridget told Cyril that if he didn't fix it right this time, she'd paint a giant lemon on it and tow it down Main Street at the tag end of the parade.”
142.
It was four o'clock when Hannah let herself in through the back door of The Cookie Jar. Her two catering jobs had gone well, and Andrea's new maternity outfit had totally tamed her mother-in-law. Their only private conversation had been about which color quilt Andrea would prefer for the nursery.
”Hi, Lisa.” Hannah stepped into the coffee shop, joining Lisa behind the counter. ”Do you need a break?”
”No, I'm fine. We had a big rush around three, but it's slowing down now. Mike was in earlier, looking for you.”
Hannah sighed. ”I was afraid I'd miss him.”
”He said not to worry, that he was pretty tied up, but he'd call you before you left for the day. Did you see Jed when you came througii the kitchen?”
Hannah shook her head. ”No. I just set down my purse and came straight in here.”
”Well, he wants to talk to you. He sent Freddy in about twenty minutes ago to say they were almost through in the pantry. I think he was looking to get paid for the day.”
”Okay. I'll pay them and then I'll start mixing up the dough for tomorrow.”
Hannah greeted a few regular customers before going back to the kitchen. The new pantry shelves were all up. Jed was just tightening the last screw. ”Hi, guys. That looks nice.”
”Thanks. Come in for a second, Hannah. I want to show you an improvement we made.” Jed waited until Hannah had stepped inside the pantry, then pointed to the small, rectangular s.p.a.ce between the inside of the door and the wall. ”This spot isn't big enough for shelves, so we made you a pocket rack as a thank-you for giving us the work.”
Hannah eyed the structure Jed had called a pocket rack with interest. It consisted of a long narrow board painted the same color as the wall with see-through pockets made out of wire mesh.
”It's for small things that might get pushed behind bigger LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 143.
things on the shelves. They won't drop out because of the mesh, but you can see at a glance what's in there.”
Hannah was pleased. She was always looking for the leftover nuts she'd chopped, or almost-empty bags of chocolate chips and marshmallows. ”That's very clever. Where did you get the idea?”
”From the last industrial kitchen I worked in. If there was a s.p.a.ce that was too small for a shelf, it had a pocket rack.”
”It'll come in really handy. Thanks for thinking of it, Jed.” Hannah led the way out of the pantry and retrieved her purse to pay them. She was just counting out the money when she realized what Jed had said. ”You said you worked in a kitchen. Were you a cook?”
”No, I was on the maintenance crew and I learned all about kitchen appliances. If something in your kitchen breaks down, I can probably fix it.”
”I'll keep that in mind.” Hannah slipped their pay into envelopes and handed one to Freddy and the other to Jed. ”Thank you for my new pocket rack. Both of you did a wonderful job.”
Freddy took his envelope and gave Hannah a big smile. ”Thanks, Hannah. Betcha didn't know that Jed used to work in the joint.”
”The joint?” Hannah frowned slightly as she turned to Jed. ”Was that the name of the restaurant?”
”No, it really was the joint. That's what Freddy calls prison.”
Freddy looked embarra.s.sed. ”I'm sorry, Jed. I forgot I wasn't supposed to tell.”
”It's okay to tell Hannah, but some people might get the wrong idea.” Jed turned back to Hannah to explain. ”I was a civilian worker, not a prisoner.”
Hannah nodded, but she wondered if Jed was telling the truth. Most people who'd been in prison would go to any length to hide it. ”Did you work there long?”
”Just for a couple of months until I saved enough money 144.
to move on. There was one good thing about the job, though. They gave the maintenance crew some kind of retroactive raise and I got a big check in the mail today. Right after we're through here, we're going down to Cyril Murphy's car lot with that old car that belonged to Freddy's mother to trade it in on a pickup truck.”
”But doesn't that car belong to Freddy now?”
”Sure, but he can't drive anyway, and it was a wreck before I got it running again. It's still no great shakes. I have to park it on top of a hill.”
”A hill?”
”I replaced the starter, but it still doesn't work right. Half the time, we have to roll it down the hill in first gear to start it. Besides, Freddy wants to ride in a truck.”
”You betcha!” Freddy gave Hannah a big smile. ”I'd really like for us to have a truck. Jed says the girls really like guys who have trucks.”
Hannah was thoughtful as Freddy and Jed gathered up their things and left. She didn't really believe Jed's story about being a civilian worker at the prison and she intended to check on it. She also didn't like the new att.i.tude she saw in Freddy. As far as she knew, he'd never been interested in girls before. Jed might have good intentions, but he was teaching Freddy some things that could lead to trouble down the road.
Hannah glanced at the clock as she hung her ap.r.o.n on a hook. ”That's it, Lisa. Take the rest of those Oatmeal Raisin Crisps for your dad and go home. It's past six-thirty.”
”Okay. You won't get any argument from me.” Lisa finished stas.h.i.+ng the last bowl of dough in their walk-in cooler, and hung up her ap.r.o.n next to Hannah's. ”Are you going to stick around for Mike's call?”
”For a while. Then I'll go home. He knows the number.”
”See you tomorrow then,” Lisa said, picking up the half-dozen leftover cookies and heading for the door.
LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 145.
After Lisa left, Hannah did a check of their stock in the pantry, made out the order that had to be placed the next day, and got ready to leave. It was almost seven-thirty. It was unlikely that Mike would call this late. She had just picked up her purse and was heading out the door when the phone rang. Hannah stopped in her tracks and stared at the phone, wis.h.i.+ng that it could tell her who was on the other end of its line.
Should she? Or shouldn't she? Rather than debate that question any further, Hannah rushed across the kitchen to answer. If it was Delores, she could always think of an excuse to cut the call short. ”h.e.l.lo?”
”Hi, Hannah.” There was an apologetic tone in Mike's voice. ”I'm sorry I didn't get back to you, but I've been tied up. Do you have plans for dinner?”
”Tonight?”
”Yes. I thought we could go out to a nice dinner and talk about Rhonda. I'll even let you pick the place.”
”It's a deal,” Hannah said, realizing that she could kill three birds with one stone. ”Could we go to Alfredo's Ristorante? And could you take me to the Quick Stop after dinner so that I can meet Mich.e.l.le's bus? And then could you drive her out to Mother's lake cottage?”
”No problem. I'll make the reservations if you tell me what time.”
Hannah glanced up at the clock and figured out the logistics. It was seventy-thirty on the nose, so traffic would be light. It would take her fifteen minutes to get home and two minutes to pour some kitty crunchies into Moishe's bowl. That was a total of seventeen minutes. She didn't need time to dress because the outfit she was wearing was perfect for dinner out. She'd need another three minutes to wash her face, brush her teeth, and comb her hair, and she'd tack on an extra ten minutes just to be on the safe side. ”Make our reservations for eight-thirty and pick me up at my condo at eight.”
”You can drive home and get ready to go out in half an hour?”
146.