EDITING: Politics and Poison

Chapter Twenty: Pizza and Possibility

Frank Hardy: Things had taken a while to calm down. We'd all given our statements to the police, and by the time this was done, Nancy had been late to dinner with her father.

So, instead, we'd all wound up at her place.

Nancy had invited Bess over, and they'd made pizza dough.

While it rose, we'd all gathered around in the living room, eating left overs from the convention, and drinking. Carson and Dad had been happy to see us all, and talked by the fire. Hannah however, had been miserable, playing with a tissue, folding it into smaller squares and watching the clock.

I was half talking to Dad, half watching her, when Nancy called Joe and I into the kitchen to help with preparing toppings for the pizza.

Nancy looked refreshed, after a shower and change. Her gray knit dress softly whispered against her legs; and she'd pulled on a white apron that matched Bess's.

Joe promptly started bowing, as he entered the room. "All hail the domestic goddesses!" he quipped.

Bess gave him a withering look, and tossed two aprons at us. "Shut up and do something helpful," she snapped, proceeded to instruct us. Joe was to slice pepperoni, and I was on cheese grating duty.

I set up my chopping board next to Bess, who was removing pips from bottled olives, with surgical precision. I could tell that Joe was checking out her ass, from over near the stove, where Nancy was stirring a heavy, and rich tomato sauce.

When he went to get red wine from the rack, he kept looking back at her ass.

She gave it a wriggle, said, "stop looking at my bum, Joseph Hardy!" Hiding a soft smile, she looked into my face. "Frank, is Hannah okay? She seems sad. And no wonder. I mean, with Norman in custody and all... it's got to be pretty shocking. Especially if he's a murderer." She shuddered.

Nancy heard our conversation, handed Joe the spoon, and walked over. "It was weird. The only reason Joe was able to jump on the back of the van was because Mr. Gruen stopped. I reckon he would have killed us all, if Hannah didn't come to the door. Joe, keep stirring, otherwise it will burn!" Her eyes caught mine, and held them. "Hannah's not telling us something; that's for sure."

I went back to grating cheese. And the rest of dinner preparation went smoothly, with only Joe burning his tongue trying to taste test the sauce.

Bess admonished him, with a smile on her face the whole time.

When the toppings were ready, and the dough had risen sufficiently, we invited the adults into the kitchen to make their own pizzas buffet.

"Now, have you made sure there's no poison in this?" Carson joked, spooning capers out of a bowl.

Nancy stole his spoon, and tasted the salty fish. She made a face, and handed back the spoon. "That's disgusting, so I'm not sure. But I think you're alright. I haven't died yet."

"Aw honey." He gave her a squeeze.

Dad pulled up a chair, and poured himself a finger of rum. "I don't get it. I mean, why would Norman do this? MOM is pretty confusing in this case."

Bess crinkled her nose. "MOM?"

"Motive, Opportunity and Means," I explained. "Without them, it's hard to get a conviction."

Joe ticked them off on his fingers. "Opportunities in the bag. He had access to the whole convention, and to Matre'd- the food, the whole lot. And he had the means: a van, food, poison."

Hannah listlessly stared into her glass of water. "Poison?"

"Yeah well, it's scary, but most chefs have access to poison, to kill vermin," Joe offered.