Lemon Tart Read Online Free PDF

Madsen
didn’t smile and she cleared her throat. She hated the accusation she felt in
every word of every question he asked. “There is just as much enjoyment to be
had in self-sufficiency as there is in a weekend trip to Denver or
shopping for the perfect pair of shoes. Homemade applesauce is most certainly
worth the effort.” It wasn’t until the end of her explanation that she realized
how defensive she sounded, so she smiled to soften her words. She’d learned
long ago that you could say nearly anything so long as you smiled.
    Detective Madsen looked at her as if she were some kind of
loon, and she shifted her weight. “So you were at the sink all—”
    “How does this look?” Detective Cunningham broke in, lifting
the masher and stepping to the side of his pan. She moved in his direction and
looked at the golden mixture.
    “Very good,” she said appreciatively. “Would you mind filling
these other jars while I put the full bottles in the bath?”
    “Bath?” Detective Madsen asked, seemingly annoyed by his own
confusion.
    “Water bath,” Detective Cunningham answered, smiling in a very
superior way at his partner. “To process the jars of applesauce.” He turned to
Sadie. “My wife used to make the best applesauce you’ve ever had—she
put ginger in it. Have you ever tried that?”
    “Ginger?” Sadie asked slowly, her eyes flicking quickly to his
naked ring finger, which still showed a definite tan line. She filed the
information away for later without stepping out of the moment. “I’ve never
thought of that but I bet it’s absolutely delicious.” She put a finger on her
chin and opened the spice cupboard. “Ground or fresh ginger?”
    Detective Madsen cleared his throat again.
    “I’m sorry, what was the question?” Sadie asked. She decided to
add the ginger to another batch, not wanting to upset the younger
detective.
    “I asked why you were at the sink all morning long.”
    “I started washing, peeling, and cutting apples about 6:30. While
the first batch cooked, I worked on preparing the next one—it’s a rather
intensive process.”
    “And what exactly did you see?”
    “I saw Mr. Henry leave for work at 7:25. The Bailey kids walked
up to the bus stop around 7:40. Then Steve and Mindy Bailey both left around
8:00—in separate cars. Carrie went out around 8:05, probably to the gym;
she’s been trying to lose weight since Jack left her last spring.” She stopped,
hating that she sounded like such a gossip and feeling like she was airing out
the family laundry in front of strangers.
    “You remember the exact times?” Detective Cunningham asked,
pausing in his jar-filling and looking at her in surprise.
    Sadie shrugged, feeling as if she ought to be embarrassed—but
she wasn’t. “I pay attention,” she said simply as she began twisting the rings
onto the tops of the jars, finger tight, and setting each jar on the rack
suspended above the now bubbling water. “Those things happen every day, well,
except the applesauce—that only happens for a few days in
October.”
    “Applesauce,” Detective Madsen muttered with derision,
scribbling in his notebook some more. Detective Cunningham continued filling
jars; though he made a fair amount of mess in the process, she was still
grateful for his help. She knew not all men were as acclimated to a kitchen as
Neil had been and she tried not to hold that fact against them. Detective
Cunningham seemed content to let his partner continue the interview, but
his face still showed his irritation every time he looked at the younger man. Sadie
wondered again what the problem was between them. Weren’t partners supposed to
be friends? Cagney and Lacey were, but maybe it was different for women.
    “Home canning is a dying art,” she said simply in response to
Detective Madsen’s mutterings. Carrie’s car drove past her home, quickly hidden
by the black walnut tree, and Sadie furrowed her brow. Detective Madsen caught
the