Part 30 (1/2)
”Here, Hannah.” Beatrice presented Hannah with a cup of coffee the moment she'd hung up the phone.
”Thanks, Beatrice.” Hannah took a sip of the hot brew and sighed gratefully. ”This is just what I needed.”
”The other thing you need is dry clothes. I'd give you some of mine, but I don't think they'd fit.”
”Not on a bet.” Hannah laughed. Beatrice was pet.i.te, about Mich.e.l.le's size.
”I don't know ...” Beatrice c.o.c.ked her head to the side and sized Hannah up. ”You've lost a ton of weight. One of my skirts might be okay, but you're so much taller.”
”Don't worry about it, Beatrice. Now that I'm toweled off, I'll dry in no time.”
Beatrice looked doubtful. ”You can't drive the rest of the 268 JoanneFluke way home in those wet clothes. You'll catch your death. How about something of Rhonda's? Her clothes are still in her closet and she was about your size.”
”You haven't rented her apartment?” Hannah was surprised. Beatrice and Ted ran a nice apartment complex and there was always a waiting list of people who wanted to rent from them.
”I can't rent it out yet. Rhonda paid me for July. I can take a deposit now, but no one can move in until the beginning of August.”
”That seems like a waste when you have a waiting list.”
”I know, but that's the law. At least I won't have to work to get it in shape. We put in new carpet and repainted it in June, and Rhonda just finished redecorating. Her place looks wonderful, Hannah. It's just a shame her relatives don't want her things.” , ”They don't?” Hannah was surprised. ”What are you going to do with them?”
”They said to sell her car and send the money to them in Colorado, but we can do whatever we want with the rest. I'm going to rent the place furnished and I'll let my tenants have first pick on everything else. That's why I said you should go up there and get something to wear... if you don't mind wearing her clothes, that is.”
”Why would I mind wearing something of Rhonda's?”
”Because she's dead. You know, a lot of people are sensitive about things like that.” , ”It doesn't bother me,” Hannah a.s.sured her. She'd hoped to get a peek inside Rhonda's apartment and this seemed like a gift from the G.o.ds.
”The only thing is, I can't go up there with you. Ted's at a meeting and he said he'd call right before he left for home to see if I needed anything. And I do. I want him to stop and pick up some laundry detergent.”
Even better. Hannah tried not to look too excited. ”That's okay, Beatrice. I can run up to Rhonda's apartment alone.”
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”Are you sure you don't mind? I mean, with her being dead and all?”
”I don't mind,” Hannah said, taking the key that Beatrice held out. ”After all, she didn't die there. I'll grab something, put it on, and come right back down with the key.”
”No hurry. Poke around a little and see if there's anything you can use. Everything she owned is up for grabs.”
Hannah took a deep breath as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. She'd never been invited to Rhonda's apartment and it was little strange to be coming here now. It felt like intruding, but Hannah reminded herself that she had a perfect reason to search through Rhonda's things for clues since she was trying to solve her murder.
There was a switch by the inside of the door and Hannah flicked on the lights. Rhonda's apartment was pretty, like something out of a magazine, with color-coordinated cus.h.i.+ons on the couch and a bowl of matching silk flowers on the coffee table. The kitchen was immaculate, but that was no surprise since Rhonda had been intending to leave on vacation.
First things first, Hannah reminded herself, and she went straight to Rhonda's walk-in closet. She grabbed the first items of clothing that came to hand, a pair of black slacks with an elastic waistband and a light blue pullover sweater. She wasn't here to scavenge through Rhonda's clothing unless it had some bearing on the murder, and anything that was dry would do.
Hannah dropped her own clothes in a heap on the floor and changed to Rhonda's. Although the pants were too short, they weren't as tight as she'd expected them to be and Rhonda's sweater was positively bulky. Perhaps Beatrice was right and she really had lost a ton of weight. She checked the closet, but it contained nothing unusual and she wasn't interested in the number of outfits in Rhonda's wardrobe. Then 270 she tackled the dresser drawers, going from top to bottom as fast as she could. She found a pair of socks to wear, but there was nothing else that could possibly relate to Rhonda's murder.
The plastic bags were in a holder under the sink and Hannah stuffed her wet clothing into one of them. Then she went through the cupboards and kitchen drawers, learning nothing except the fact that Rhonda owned a set of sterling silver fish knives and she must have been very fond of packaged macaroni and cheese.
The living room was next. Hannah headed straight for a small desk that Rhonda had placed under the windows. The center drawer was filled with loose receipts, and she sat down in the desk chair to glance through them.
Nothing caught Hannah's interest until she found a receipt from Browerville Travel. Not only had Rhonda driven all the way to Browerville to book her flight, she'd lied to Hannah about where and when she had done it. When they'd signed the house papers at The Cookie Jar, Rhonda had said she'd called the airlines and reserved her ticket the previous evening. She'd also said that thanks to Norman, she had enough money to fly to Rome on vacation. But this receipt from Browerville Travel was dated two weeks before Norman had made his offer on the house!
Rhonda's lie didn't seem to make much sense, but Hannah didn't have time to think about that now. She grabbed the receipt, stuck it into her purse, and went through the rest of the desk drawers. She was down to the last drawer when she discovered another strange item. It was a letter addressed to Rhonda's great-aunt.
”Strange,” Hannah mused, staring down at the letter. This was the only item belonging to Mrs. Voelker that she'd found in Rhonda's apartment. It must be important if Rhonda had kept it and nothing else. Hannah stuffed it into her purse and stood up. One room left to search and she was through.
Four minutes later Hannah emerged from Rhonda's bathroom with a frown on her face. Searching Rhonda's medi- LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 271.
cine cabinet and bathroom drawers had been a waste of her time. She'd found nothing except a small fortune in cosmetics and time was growing short. Hannah grabbed her things, flicked off the lights, and raced down the stairs to return Beatrice's key. If she didn't hurry, she'd have the whole Winnetka Sheriff's Department and every member of her extended family waiting on her doorstep when she got home.
Chapter TWenty-Five.
Hannah got up with a smile the next morning. Since Moishe now had his own down pillow, her neck felt great for the first time in months. It didn't take long to dress for the Fourth and within the hour, Hannah was in her truck on her way to The Cookie Jar. The weather was gorgeous. Puffy white clouds floated lazily in a bright blue sky and it couldn't have looked less like rain. After the deluge they'd gotten the previous night, the gra.s.s was emerald green and there was a wonderful fresh scent in the air, the same scent candles and room fresheners attempted in vain to duplicate.
As Hannah drove through town, she noticed that everyone had gone all out for Independence Day with flags, banners, ribbons, and other patriotic items. Even the tall pine that served as the town Christmas tree in Lake Eden Park was decked out with red, white, and blue streamers.
By seven forty-five, Hannah arrived at her parking spot. She unlocked the back door and stepped inside, sniffing appreciatively as a welcome aroma wafted out to greet her. Lisa had put on the coffee. But where was her car?
”Happy Fourth, Hannah!” Lisa came in from the coffee shop before Hannah had time to look for her.
”The same to you. Where's your car?”
LEMON MERINGUE PIE MURDER 273.
”I left it down at the Senior Center. Herb gave me a ride here. Pour yourself a cup of coffee and go sit down in the shop. I'm going to make you a low-cal breakfast.”
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee was enticing and Hannah was only too happy to do as she'd been told. She filled a mug, carried it to her favorite table, and took a seat facing the plate-gla.s.s window. The street outside fairly sparkled in the sunlight. Mayor Bas...o...b..had ordered every inch of the parade route swept clean last night. Since the street was roped off, there was no traffic and nothing to watch. It was too early for spectators to gather and the only thing moving was a family of birds in the tall pine across the street.
Hannah sipped her coffee for a few moments, but she'd never been any good at sitting still for long. This was the perfect time to check out the receipt and the letter she'd found in Rhonda's desk.
One glance at the clock and Hannah decided to tackle the receipt first. The toll-free number for the airlines shouldn't be terribly busy this early. She retrieved both items from her purse and carried the receipt behind the counter where she could use the phone. This would take some fancy talking, but she'd taken several lessons on that subject from Andrea. She'd say she was calling for Rhonda, who'd missed her flight because of a sudden death in the family. That part was the truth. And then she'd fudge a little by saying that Rhonda wanted to rebook her ticket with exactly the same accommodations. If she got lucky, the airline employee would tell her all the facts about Rhonda's ticket when he or she rebooked the flight.
It took ten minutes, but at last Hannah hung up the phone and walked back to the table to take a huge swig of coffee. The information she'd been given was startling, to say the least. Nothing Rhonda had told her was true. She'd booked a one-way ticket, not a round-trip. And she'd been flying to Zurich, not Rome.
Hannah stared out the window at the silent street. No 274 wonder Rhonda had gone to Browerville Travel! She hadn't wanted anyone in town to know that she was leaving for good or where she'd gone.
Hannah thought about that to the faint sounds of pans clattering from the kitchen. A few moments later, she caught the hint of a delectable aroma and her mouth began to water. She didn't know what Lisa was cooking, but it certainly smelled delicious.
”Our float looks gorgeous,” Lisa said, pus.h.i.+ng the door open and sticking her head in the coffee shop. ”Unless the judges are blind, we'll win first prize.”
”I didn't know they were awarding prizes.”
”Neither did I. Janice c.o.x said they decided to do it at the council meeting last night. The first-place float gets a hundred dollars, second place gets fifty, and third place gets twenty-five. Hold on a second. I have to flip something.”