Banana Cream Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen #21)

“What happened then?” Michelle leaned forward because Tricia’s voice had dropped even lower.

“She said, ‘Listen to me, Ricky.’ And that’s when I knew for sure who was on the other end of the line. ‘You’ve cheated on Stephanie from the very beginning and this has got to stop!’ And then Mayor Bascomb must have said something, because Tori was quiet for a couple minutes.”

“That was it?” Michelle asked. “Was that all you heard?”

“Oh, no.” Tricia shook her head. “Tori told the mayor that she was putting a stop to his little escapades once and for all, except she didn’t say escapades. She said . . . something else.”

Hannah realized that even in the dim light in the bar, Tricia’s face was turning bright pink with embarrassment. “It’s okay, Tricia,” she hurried to reassure her. “We don’t need to know the exact words Tori used.”

“Oh, good. But anyway, Tori told him she’d already taken steps to stop the drain on her life savings. She said he’d already used all of his inheritance on his little . . . um . . . escapades, and that she had already taken steps to cut him off.”

“Oh, boy!” Michelle gasped. “Do you think she was serious?”

Tricia shrugged. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see her. And even if I’d been right there in the room with her, I might not have been able to tell. Tori was an award-winning actress. She could make anybody believe anything. She did say she’d seen a lawyer, though. And she told him that she’d drawn up a new will.” Tricia stopped and gulped. “Do you think that’s a motive for . . .”

Since Tricia seemed unable to complete her sentence, Michelle jumped in. “Murder?”

“Yeah.” Tricia sounded scared as she turned to Hannah. “Do you think I’m in danger, Hannah?”

Hannah reached out to pat her hand again. “No, you’re fine, Tricia. No one’s going to know that you’re the one who told us this. The mayor doesn’t know you overheard Tori’s side of the conversation. Just don’t tell anyone else and you should be fine.”

“I won’t tell another soul! The only reason I told you was because I felt guilty about being mad at Tori when she had all these problems. That wasn’t very nice of me.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty,” Michelle told her. “Tori doesn’t know you were angry with her. And really, Tricia, it was a natural reaction. I would’ve been angry, too.”

“Did Tori say anything else before she ended the conversation?” Hannah asked, bringing them back to the important matter at hand.

“She told the mayor to come over if he wanted to discuss it further, even though it wouldn’t do him any good. And he must have said he was coming because she told him she’d cancel her acting lesson with me. And then Tori said that she could only see him for thirty minutes because she had another appointment that night.”

“Do you think she did have another appointment?” Michelle asked.

“I don’t know. I guess it could have been an excuse so the mayor wouldn’t stay any longer than that.”

Hannah nodded, but she had other suspicions. Tricia had left in time to be at her mother’s house by six-thirty and the Barthels’ farm was approximately twenty minutes from town. If Mayor Bascomb had visited Tori the night she was murdered, he would have left her condo by seven. Tori’s appointment with M. Dumont was scheduled for seven forty-five that evening. It was possible the mayor had stayed longer than his allotted half hour and the screams and gunshot that Delores had heard had been caused by Mayor Bascomb. Of course, it was also possible that Tori had been alive when the mayor had left her and M. Dumont was the killer.

Hannah decided to think about all that later, and she turned to Tricia with a smile. “Thank you, Tricia. You’ve been very helpful. There’s only one more thing I’d like to know.”

“What’s that?”

“Did you notice anything unusual in the studio that night?”

“Not really,” Tricia said. “The studio looked the same as it always does and the stage was set up with a straight-back chair and a couch at the side.”

“That wasn’t unusual?” Hannah asked her.

“No. It’s always that way . . . I knew Tori would want me to rehearse my scene the moment she came in, so I took my script down to the couch where she always sits and put it on the coffee table.” Tricia stopped and sighed. “Tori’s really tough about memorizing your lines. She doesn’t want to see anyone even glancing at a script. I wanted her to know that I’d memorized everything, so I left my script down there.”

“You said you put your script on the coffee table,” Hannah repeated what Tricia had told her. “Was there anything else on the coffee table?”

Tori looked at her blankly for a moment and then she nodded. “Yes. Tori’s clipboard was there. She has this clipboard with a battery-operated light on it to take notes while I rehearse.”

“There was nothing on the table except Tori’s lighted clipboard and your script?” Hannah asked, just to be certain.

“That’s right. And right after I put down my script, I went over to the doorway so I could hear what Tori was saying on the phone.” Tricia paused and looked up at Hannah. “Does what I told you help?”

“Yes. Thank you, Tricia.”

“Then you know who did it?”

“Not yet,” Hannah answered quickly. “But don’t worry, Tricia. Sooner or later, I’ll know.”





BUTTERSCOTCH CRUNCH COOKIES

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F., rack in the middle position.



The following recipe can be doubled if you wish. Do not, however, double the baking soda. Use one and a half teaspoons—2 teaspoons is too much.



1 cup softened butter (2 sticks, ? pound, 8 ounces)

2 cups white (granulated) sugar 3 Tablespoons molasses 2 teaspoons vanilla 1 teaspoon baking soda 2 beaten eggs (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)

2 cups crushed salted potato chips (measure AFTER crushing) (I used regular, thin, unflavored, salted Lay’s potato chips)