Free Lemon Meringue Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen Mysteries) by Joanne Fluke Page A

want to get it while I mix up a batch of Walnuttoes for tomorrow? Donna Lempke called and ordered six dozen for her cousin’s birthday party.”
    “I’ll do the Walnuttoes. You do the coffee.”
    “But are you sure? They’re chocolate and you’re on a diet.”
    Hannah gave an ironic grin. “That’s okay. Seeing that body took my appetite away.”
    “The Dead Body Diet?” Lisa started to grin as she picked up the carafe. “I’m surprised someone hasn’t thought of it before. What do you want me to say if anyone asks me about what you saw in the basement?”
    “Nobody will. Bill and Mike won’t release any information until they confirm the identity, and Norman won’t say anything because they asked him not to.”
    “But how about your mother?”
    “Oh-oh,” Hannah groaned. It was a sure bet that Delores had told someone by now. Actually, the odds were good that she’d told hundreds of someones. “Just say that Mike and Bill are handling it and I’m not involved.”
    Lisa snorted. “They’ll never swallow that.”
    “Maybe not, but it’s true. Wild horses couldn’t drag me into this one. As of right now, I’m officially retired from the murder business.”
    “Then you think it was murder?” Lisa’s eyes grew round.
    “All I know is someone’s dead. It’s up to Doc Knight to determine who, when, and how.”
    Hannah turned and headed back to the kitchen before Lisa could ask more questions. She was convinced that the body they’d found was Rhonda Scharf, and as she got out her recipe book, Hannah swallowed past the lump in her throat. Rhonda had never been one of her close friends, but she hadn’t disliked her. And no one should have to die in a gloomy, moldy basement only hours before leaving on the best vacation of her life. Of course Rhonda had been murdered. The fact that someone had tried to bury her confirmed that. If Rhonda had died accidentally, the person who’d found her would have called the sheriff’s department to report it.
    It didn’t take long to mix up the dough for the Walnuttoes. Hannah had baked them twice a week for the past two years, but she still took the precaution of checking off the ingredients on the laminated surface of her recipe. She was preoccupied with Rhonda’s death and preoccupation led to mistakes.
    Once she’d finished, Hannah covered the bowl with plastic wrap and carried it to a shelf in her walk-in cooler. She was just emerging from the chilly interior when the back door opened and Mike stepped in.
    “Hi, Hannah. We took your mother’s statement and I need to check a few facts with you.”
    “Sure.” Hannah motioned to a stool at the stainless-steel workstation. “Coffee?”
    “That’d be great.” Mike waited until Hannah had brought him a mug of coffee before he opened his notebook. “Did your mother go down to the basement alone?”
    “Yes. Norman and I didn’t know anything was wrong until she told us what she’d seen.”
    “Where were you while she was in the basement?”
    “We were sitting at the kitchen table. We told her to call out if she needed us and the basement door was wide open.”
    Mike began to frown as he referred to his notes. “You didn’t run down there when you heard her screams?”
    “Mother didn’t scream. There wasn’t a peep out of her. That’s why we got worried and went to the stairwell to check on her. We called out to her and when she didn’t answer, we started to go down the stairs. But then we saw Mother coming up.”
    Mike made a note in his book. “Was the house still creaking when you went down there?”
    “Creaking? No.”
    “Then the wind had stopped?”
    “There wasn’t any wind.”
    “Interesting,” Mike said, referring to his notes again. “How about the rats? Were they as large as your mother said?”
    “What rats? We didn’t see any rats.”
    Mike began to grin. “I think your mother must have embellished her story just a bit. How about the gruesome trail of glistening