Banana Cream Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen #21)

“Oh.” Hannah blushed, hoping that he couldn’t see it in the twilight of the approaching night. She remembered precisely why they had stayed in their stateroom and hadn’t gone on their planned shore excursion.

“I straightened it all out and while I was at it, I made reservations at the French Bistro for tonight.”

Hannah began to frown. “But I thought we were just going to stay here. After those appetizers you ordered from the butler, I’m not really very hungry.”

“You don’t have to be hungry. Their portions are small. I checked it out when I walked by. And I made sure we have a great table by the window. Their cuisine looked really good and I thought you’d enjoy going there.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will!” Hannah said quickly, realizing that Ross had sounded a bit disappointed that she wasn’t more enthusiastic. “What time is our reservation? And is it a dress-up place?”

Ross glance at his watch. “We’ve got a half hour before we have to leave. And it’s not formal, but it’s something the hostess called smart casual. What you have on is fine, Cookie.”

Hannah glanced down at her black pants and aqua blue sweater. If she changed her shoes, put on some jewelry, and covered her sweater with the black jacket she’d brought, she should pass for smart casual. “It’ll only take a moment or two for me to get ready.”

“We’ve got plenty of time.” Ross picked up her half-filled glass. “I’ll top this off and get a glass for myself.”

Hannah watched him as he went back inside. Ross anticipated what he thought were her needs and sometimes he was wrong. But she supposed that was better than not being concerned at all. She chided herself for being too picky. She was probably just not used to all this attention. She’d been single for years now, living alone except for her cat, Moishe, and she was used to taking care of herself. She should be grateful for the way Ross lavished attention on her.

As she sat there, waiting for the champagne she didn’t really want, Hannah told herself that things would be very different when they got back to Lake Eden. Then they would have their separate careers and they wouldn’t be together twenty-four hours a day. It was entirely possible she’d miss this time and regret that she hadn’t been more grateful to the man who obviously loved her so much.

“Here you go, Cookie.” Ross stepped out on the balcony carrying the two champagne glasses and a piece of paper. “Our butler was just here and he brought this.”

“What is it?”

“A message from your sister, Michelle. The butler said it just came in.”

Hannah’s heart began to pound as she reached out for the paper that Ross was holding.

“I hope everything’s okay,” he said, echoing Hannah’s own thoughts. And then he noticed that her hands were shaking. “Are you all right, honey?”

“I think so.” Hannah’s fingers touched the paper, but she couldn’t seem to grasp it and it dropped to the balcony floor.

“Do you want me to read it for you?” Ross asked, picking it up. “Your hands are shaking.”

“Yes! Thank you, Ross,” Hannah said gratefully, praying that nothing bad had happened to her mother, or her sisters, or Moishe, or anyone else in her extended family.

“We’re all okay, including Moishe, but Mother wanted to give you a heads-up before you get home to Lake Eden.” Ross read aloud.

Hannah realized that she’d been holding her breath and she let it out in a relieved sigh. “Thank Goodness! Go on, Ross. Please.”

“Victoria Bascomb is dead. She was murdered and Mother found her body. She’s shaken up, of course, and she wants you to come home right away.”

“Oh, dear!” Hannah said, beginning to frown. “We’re taking the shuttle to the airport when we dock, aren’t we, Ross?”

“Of course. I made those arrangements online before we left Lake Eden. Miss Bascomb was your mother’s neighbor, wasn’t she?”

“Yes. She lived one floor down from Mother and Doc’s penthouse. I wonder if Mother heard something.”

“Yes, she did. It’s in the next sentence.” Ross began to read again. “Mother heard a gunshot and went downstairs to check on Tori. She says to tell you that she thinks Tori knew her killer and let him or her in, because she had one of your Banana Cream Pies and two dessert plates out on the coffee table.”

Hannah groaned. “So my baked goods were at the murder scene again?”

“I’m afraid so. I’m sorry, honey.” Ross handed her the paper and then he lifted her to her feet to hug her. “Do you want me to cancel our dinner reservations?”

Hannah thought about that for a moment and then she shook her head. “No. I’m sorry that Mother had to find Tori’s body, and I can understand why she’s so upset. It must have been a terrible shock. And of course Mother wants me to investigate.”

“But are you upset?”

“Murder always upsets me. The idea that one person can callously take another person’s life is horrible. But if you’re asking if I felt a personal connection to Tori, the answer is no. I know she was Mother’s friend and neighbor, but I really didn’t know her that well.”

Ross looked down at her searchingly. “I think I understand, honey. What I was really wondering is if you’re upset that one of your pies was found at the murder scene.”

Hannah took a moment to assess her true feelings. “Yes and no. While it’s true that I don’t like my baked goods associated with murder, Tori was crazy about my Banana Cream Pie. She bought at least two every week.”

“But a lot of your baked goods have been found at murder scenes, haven’t they?”

Hannah sighed as she nodded. Ross was right. Ron, their Cozy Cow delivery man, had been eating one of her Chocolate Chip Crunch Cookies when he’d been shot. And her Strawberry Shortcake Swensen had been spilled all over Danielle Watson’s garage when Coach Watson had been murdered. Then there was Connie Mac, who’d been in Hannah’s walk-in cooler at The Cookie Jar, filching one of Hannah’s Blue Blueberry Muffins when she’d met her end. And . . .