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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

 

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family farm right next to the Voelker place. "You knew Mrs. Voelker, didn't you, Edna?"

 

"Sure, I did. She put up the best peach jam in the county. Everybody around was real sorry when she got in that accident and ended up in the wheelchair. No more peach jam for the neighbors."

 

Hannah nodded, wondering if people would speak of her that way when she was dead, mourning not her, but the loss of her cookies. "Do you remember a boy named Speedy that visited Mrs. Voelker?"

 

"Speedy?" Edna started to shake her head. "No, I don't think ... Yes, I do! He was some kind of shirttail relation and he spent a whole summer with her. That boy was a regular fishing fool. He used to race through his chores so he could get down to the lake to fish. That's why she called him Speedy. Half the time she ended up stripping the cows herself after the morning milking, but she told us he had a hard time at home and she was going to see he had fun for a change."

 

"Do you remember Speedy's real name?" ?·

 

Edna sighed. "Can't say as I do. I suppose I knew it back then, but that was a long time ago."

 

"Will you tell me if you think of it?"

 

"Sure will. So, is she?"

 

Hannah blinked. Edna had obviously switched to another topic of conversation. "Is she what?"

 

"Bringing her Jell-O mold. Andrea, that is."

 

"Oh!" Hannah switched gears. "Not this time. She's bringing chips and dip for the appetizer table."

 

"Well, heaven be praised! One less Jell-O bowl to contend with. Why don't you dump some ice in the bottom of some of those coolers we borrowed so we can refrigerate the things that we have to keep chilled. You didn't bring a dessert with whipped cream, did you?"

 

"Would I do something like that?" Hannah asked, grinning at Edna.

 

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"No, I don't guess you would. Marge Beeseman will though. You mark my words. And she'll put the whipped cream on at home, not leave it in the can the way it said to do in the flyer. And then she'll complain because it drooped!"

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

4 6"|i /Tmm!" Hannah voiced her approval as she tasted the

 

IVJLbeef Norman had barbecued. "Delicious."

 

"Thanks, Hannah." Norman, who was sitting on her right side at one of the picnic tables, looked pleased by the compliment

 

"It sure is," Mike commented from his spot at Hannah's left side. "I used to do a little barbecuing, but my beef was never this good."

 

"It's all in the sauce. A cut like this has to be marinated overnight. That way the flavor gets all the way through. It's not too much garlic for you?"

 

"Just right," Mike said, cutting off another bite. "Any less would be lost and any more would be overdoing it. I'd sure like that sauce recipe if you're giving it out."

 

"I'll give it to you. It works on chicken, too. All you have to do is double the mustard and cut back on the grated onion by half."

 

Hannah glanced from one man to the other, trying to keep herself from chuckling. They sounded like a couple of housewives comparing notes and even though they'd both wanted to sit with her, they seemed content to talk to each other and ignore her. She let them talk on, comparing the merits of

 

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charcoal over gas and which wood chips were preferable, while she glanced around at the crowds of people who were contentedly stuffing their collective faces.

 

The sun was lowering in the sky and Hannah knew she'd have to run back to her truck to get her mosquito repellent. That reminded her that they never bit Norman, and she turned to Mike. "Do mosquitoes bite you?"

 

"Mosquitoes?" Mike looked startled, as if she'd pulled him out of the most intriguing conversation of his life. "Sure. They bite everybody."

 

"Not Norman."

 

"Is that right?" Mike leaned in front of Hannah to stare at Norman. "What's your secret, Norman?"

 

Oh-oh. She'd started an all-male conversation again. Hannah sighed and turned back to people-gazing. Freddy Sawyer, dressed in jeans and a blue pullover with a picture of an American Eagle on the front, was leaning against a tree at the edge of the picnic area. Hannah was glad to see him here. Freddy had once told Hannah that the Fourth of July was his favorite holiday and he loved to watch the fireworks. Jed was only a few feet away, talking to a group of people Hannah didn't recognize. He looked handsome tonight in a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a denim vest that was embroidered with stars and stripes. It looked expensive and Hannah wondered if he'd spent his whole paycheck on it.

 

A young woman in the group was flirting with Jed and he smiled at her as she reached out to put her hand on his arm. Although he was clearly flirting back, Hannah was glad to see him turn slightly, so that he could keep Freddy in sight. Jed was taking his responsibility toward his cousin seriously, keeping tabs on him in the crowd.

 

Several children in the crowd began to cheer and Hannah turned toward the source of the excitement. The Lake Eden volunteer fire department had arrived in their fire truck. The hook and ladder was followed by one of Cyril Murphy's dark green rental vans with light green shamrocks painted on the

 

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sides. Any child in the crowd old enough to remember the fireworks from the previous year knew that the van contained all the pyrotechnics for tonight's display.

 

Hannah glanced over at the food tables. There were only a few stragglers going back for thirds. It was time to start putting the food away. She stood up, and both men stopped talking and turned to her. "I'm going to help Edna with the cleanup."

 

"Sure," Mike said.

 

"Okay," Norman echoed the sentiment. "Do you need any help?"

 

"No, that's okay." Hannah headed off at a speedy clip, but not fast enough to miss hearing another all-male conversation begin. This one was about cars and the various advantages of the latest models.

 

By the time Hannah had helped with the cleanup and made a run to her truck to mosquito-proof herself and retrieve her quilt, she saw a fleet of rowboats heading out from the dock. The boats were riding low in the water and Hannah knew that the fireworks had been unloaded from the van and stacked in the bottom of the rowboats for transport to the rafts that would become launching pads. Most people in the tri-county area thought that the Lake Eden fireworks display was the best one around. The town council spent a small fortune every year on fireworks and the display seemed twice as large as it really was when the streamers of bursting colors were reflected off the surface of the lake. She found Mike and Norman on the lakeshore, sitting on the sand and claiming their patch of spectator space. They helped her spread out her quilt and before long the whole extended family had found spaces around them.

 

Darkness began to fall. Hannah could see dim lights, one on each of the rafts and more in the rowboats. She was sure that Joe Dietz was out there again this year. A retired warrant officer in Army Ordnance, Joe was in his seventies and he'd been directing the fireworks for as long as Hannah could remember. She spotted Jed moving through the crowd with a

 

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blanket roll under his arm. He'd put on a leather jacket over his shirt and vest, and Hannah wished she'd thought to bring hers. It wouldn't be needed in town, but there was always a breeze near the lake and it could turn chilly when the last rays of sun had faded. For a moment, Hannah was concerned that Freddy was nowhere in sight, but then she remembered the group that Jed had been talking to earlier and how friendly they'd seemed. Freddy and the group were probably sitting on the sand, saving a place for the blanket that Jed had gone to fetch.

 

Once the sun had disappeared below the horizon, night fell rapidly. Hannah crossed her legs and sat "Indian style," a phrase her first-grade teacher had used that was probably now politically incorrect.

 

Before Hannah really expected it, the fireworks began with a bang. It was a single bang and it was a loud one, causing her hands to fly up to cover her ears. She jumped, then laughed in delight. The Lake Eden fireworks always started this way, but it never failed to startle her.

 

The first loud bang was followed by a rapid series of bangs. Next there was a whoosh as a rocket shot up and burst overhead, raining down streamers of pink that were reflected on the surface of the lake. Hannah cheered with the rest of the crowd and at that exact moment, Norman reached out for her hand. A moment later, as a green blossom of fireworks burst in the sky, Mike reached out for her other hand.

 

Hannah sat there, hardly daring to breathe. What was the etiquette in a situation like this? Should she tell Mike she couldn't hold hands with him because she was already holding hands with Norman? Or should she refuse to hold hands with both of them? Hannah thought about it through another series of rockets and multicolored streamers and came to a decision. Miss Manners was bound to disagree, but since neither Mike nor Norman seemed to be aware that his rival was holding her hand, the best thing to do was relax and enjoy it.

 

The crowd gave a collective gasp and then a prolonged

 

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"Oooooh" as two more pyrotechnic stars burst overhead, one red and one blue. Joe Dietz was doing a good job of mixing large displays with the smaller displays to make the fireworks last as long as possible. It was a perfect evening for the show. There was a light breeze that cleared away the smoke, so each flash looked as brilliant against the night sky as the one that had come before it.

 

They were only five minutes into the fireworks show when Mike's police radio crackled and he held it up against his ear. He listened for a moment, responded with an "On my way," and turned to Hannah. "They called me in. There's a six-car pileup out on the highway with a bus involved."

 

Mike stood up and no more than a second later, so did Lonnie. Another moment and Bill also got to his feet

 

"They called everyone hi?" Hannah asked.

 

"Everyone. It's a bad one." Mike turned to Norman. "Have you seen Doc Knight? The dispatcher said she couldn't reach him on his pager."

 

"He was talking to Edna a couple of minutes ago," Norman said.

 

"Can you find him and tell him to go straight to the hospital? County's setting up triage out there and they'll be sending him some casualties."

 

"I'll find him and then I'll drive out. If you have any facial injuries, I can help. Where's the accident?"

 

"Two miles south of the Lake Eden turnoff. Thanks, Norman." Mike motioned to Bill and Lonnie. "I brought the squad car. You can ride with me."

 

In less time than it took to swat a mosquito, Hannah's two Lotharios had deserted her and she was left sitting in the center of her quilt alone. Michelle was also alone, now that Lonnie had left, and so was Andrea.

 

"If you marry a cop, you go through a lot of nights alone," Andrea commented with a sharp glance at Michelle. "You don't have to like it, but you do have to cope with it."

 

Hannah didn't like the way this conversation was starting. As far as she was concerned, Lonnie was a better choice for

 

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Michelle^s boyfriend than the guy from New York who didn't know beans about small-town life and thought Michelle's descriptions of her hometown were humorous. She was about to horn in and change the subject when Delores reached back to tap her on the arm.

 

"Do you have an extra sweater in your truck, Hannah? It's getting a little chilly."

 

Hannah hesitated. If she offered her mother the ratty old hooded sweatshirt she carried in the back of her truck, it would lead to a long lecture about revising her wardrobe and weeding out the clothing that wasn't fit to be worn. "No, but I'll run to the cottage and get you a sweater."

 

"But you'll miss the fireworks."

 

"Not if I walk along the shoreline. I can see it just fine from there. And the cottage is only about a block away."

 

"Well, if you're sure you don't mind___No! I've changed

 

my mind! I don't want you to go, Hannah!"

 

"Why not?" Her mother had sounded panicked.

 

"Because ... well..." Delores leaned back and turned her head to whisper, "The killer could be out there."

 

"Don't worry, Mother. The shore is crowded with people. He wouldn't attack me in front of all those witnesses."

 

"But they wouldn't be witnesses, not if they were looking up at the sky. And fireworks is perfect cover for a gunshot with all the banging and booming."

 

"Things like that only happen in the movies." Hannah was amused. Her mother was well intentioned, but totally irrational. "Besides, there wouldn't be a gunshot because the killer doesn't use a gun. Rhonda was stabbed, not shot."

 

"You're right. I forgot about that." Delores sighed deeply. "Do you think I'm overreacting?"

 

"Yes, Mother."

 

"Well... you're probably right, but you'd better stay here. I'd just worry the entire time you were gone."

 

"I'll go along with Hannah," Michelle offered. "There's no way anyone would take on both of us. That would make you feel better, wouldn't it, Mother?"

 

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"Much better," Delores said, and she sounded very relieved. "And while you're there, you can put on the coffee. It would be nice to have a cup when the fireworks are over. And thaw that coffee cake I stuck in the freezer. Ten minutes in the microwave on defrost should do it. And would you carry out the garbage on your way back? I forgot to do it when I left."

 

"Sure, Mother," Hannah said, grabbing Michelle's hand and making a quick getaway before their mother could think of more tasks for them to do.