Chocolate Cream Pie Murder - Joanne Fluke Page 0,2

a request for donations of canned food from the Bible Church for their homeless shelter in the church basement, an announcement of the nuptials scheduled on Valentine’s Day, a reminder that the lost and found box in the church office was overflowing with forgotten mittens, gloves, and caps, a notice of a time change in Grandma Knudson’s Bible study group, and two notifications of baptisms to be held after church services in the coming month.

“And now we have a special request from Hannah Swensen,” Reverend Bob told them. “She’d like to say a few words to you before the social hour.”

Hannah stood up and slid out of the pew. She walked up the aisle at the side of the church on legs that shook slightly to join Reverend Bob. She cleared her throat and then she began to speak.

“Almost everyone in the congregation today attended my wedding to Ross Barton in November. Most of you were also at the Lake Eden Inn for the reception.”

There were nods from almost everyone in attendance and Hannah went on. “I asked to speak to you today because I need to apologize. I think you all know that Ross is gone, and my family and I told you that he was on location for a new special that he was doing for KCOW Television. That is not true. I’m sorry to say that we lied to you and we owe you an apology for that.”

“If Ross isn’t out on location for a special, where is he?” Howie Levine asked.

Hannah wasn’t surprised by the question. Howie was a lawyer and he always asked probing questions. “Ross is in Wisconsin.”

“Is he filming something there?” Hal McDermott, co-owner of Hal and Rose’s Café, asked.

“No. I’ll tell you why he’s there, but first let me tell you what happened on the day Ross left Lake Eden.”

Haltingly at first, and then with more assurance, Hannah described what had happened on the day Ross left. The words were painful at first, but it became easier until all the facts had been given.

“Did Ross leave you a note?” Irma York, the wife of Lake Eden’s barber, asked.

“No, there was nothing. His car was still there, his billfold was on top of the dresser, where he always left it when he came home from work, and he’d even left his driver’s license and credit cards. It was almost as if he’d packed up his clothes and . . . and vanished. ”

“You must have been very worried,” Reverend Bob said sympathetically.

“Not at first. I was upset that he hadn’t called me to say he was leaving, but I thought that he had been rushed for time and he’d call me that night. Then, when I didn’t hear from him that night or the next day, I got worried.”

“Of course you did!” Grandma Knudson, Reverend Bob’s grandmother and the unofficial matriarch of the church, said with a nod.

“After three days,” Hannah continued, “I was afraid that something was very wrong and I asked Mike and Norman to help me look for Ross.”

Mike stood up to address the congregation. “It took us weeks of searching, but two of my detectives finally found Ross. Right after I verified his identity, Norman and I went to Hannah’s condo to tell her.” He turned around to face Hannah. “Go on, Hannah.”

“Yes,” Hannah said, gathering herself for the most difficult part of her apology. “When I came home that night, Mike and Norman were waiting for me. Both of them looked very serious and I knew right away that something was wrong. That’s when Mike said that they’d found Ross, and . . .” Hannah stopped speaking and drew a deep, steadying breath. “Mike told me that Ross had gone back to his wife.”

“His wife?” Grandma Knudson looked completely shocked. “But you’re his wife, Hannah! We were all right here when you married Ross!”

There was a chorus of startled exclamations from the congregation. Hannah waited until everyone was quiet again and then she continued. “Ross was already married when he married me. And that means my marriage to him wasn’t legal.”

“You poor dear!” Grandma Knudson got up from her place of honor in the first pew and rushed up to put her arm around Hannah. Then she motioned to her grandson. “Give me your handkerchief, Bob.”

Once the handkerchief was handed over, Grandma Knudson passed it to Hannah. “What are you going to do about this, Hannah?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” Hannah admitted truthfully. “I just wanted