Breach of Crust: A Charmed Pie Shoppe Mystery (10 page)

“No, we couldn’t. Julia would have figured out that we took the keys.”

Pulling a dagger from her left boot, Reba said, “And we would have dealt with whatever cavalry she called.”

“I have a handgun, but you and I both know that I’ve never been much of a fighter, Reba,” Ella Mae said quietly. “I’ll fight
for
people. But hand-to-hand combat? That’s your specialty. And as amazing as you are, you’re no match for someone wielding an object of power. We need to be smart or we’ll be killed.” Ella Mae focused on her phone again. This time, she sent a message to Suzy asking her to translate the Greek letters on Julia’s key fob. After attaching an image of the fob, she sank deeper into the seat and closed her eyes. “We have to find Loralyn. It’s not a very big town. Where would she be?”

“Sitting by the oven in a gingerbread house in the middle of a forest?” Reba muttered. “Nah, she doesn’t like children. She likes men.” Reba glanced out the windshield. “It’s too early for someone to take her out to dinner. So where would she be go to put her moves on the opposite sex? A country club would be my guess.”

Ella Mae was impressed. “Good thinking. Let’s see how many this town supports.” She did a Google search and found two country clubs. One was clearly more prestigious than the second. When Ella Mae noted the name, she barked out a dry laugh.

“What is it?” Reba asked.

“We seem to be plagued by flowers these days.” Ella Mae showed Reba the screen. “Magnolia Greens Golf and Racquet Club.”

Reba snorted. “We’re not exactly dressed in tennis whites. And if Loralyn’s usin’ a fake name, we can’t pretend to be friends of hers. How’s this gonna work?”

Ella Mae frowned. “I don’t know. There’s also a high possibility that other Camellias will be at this country club. If any of the women recognize me, they’ll wonder what I’m doing there.” She slapped the dashboard in frustration. “We’ve accomplished next to nothing, but I think we should just head back to Havenwood. I need to go through the club directory again. If Loralyn is a Camellia, she must be listed in that book.”

Reba took the truck keys out of her handbag. She bounced them on her palm for a moment as though reluctant to leave Sweet Briar. “What will you tell Opal?”

Ella Mae groaned. “Good Lord. Loralyn doesn’t even know about her mother. She has no idea how sick Opal is.”

“That’s not your fault. She wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.” Reba gave Ella Mae’s hand a squeeze. “That’s
who she is. It’s who she’s always been. Her agenda has always been more important than everyone else’s. Even if you gave her the choice between comin’ home or stayin’ in Sweet Briar in hopes of findin’ an object of power, she’d probably stay here. Loralyn is not a girl with a big heart. Her heart is two times smaller than the Grinch’s was at the beginning of the story.”

“But his grew. Maybe hers can too.” Ella Mae gave Reba a hopeful smile.

Reba shook her head. “Always the optimist. That’s you. You kept givin’ Loralyn second chances when you were kids too. She’d tease you. Humiliate you. Bully you. And you’d still invite her to your birthday parties. Some folks don’t change, honey. Some folks are born mean and they stay mean.”

Ella Mae recalled how much Loralyn had loved a chestnut colt named Romeo. All these years later, she still remembered how sad and quiet Loralyn had been at school the week after her father had sold that horse.

“I don’t think she was born mean,” Ella Mae told Reba. “She wasn’t as lucky as me, that’s all. She didn’t have you. Or three aunts who doted on her. My mother might have been wrapped up in grief over my father’s death, but I never felt unloved. Not for a second. I was hugged and kissed every day. I was read to and sung to. I got notes in my lunchbox and care packages every week when I was away at college. I had someone to run to when I was scared, upset, or worried. You were my safe haven, Reba. Has Loralyn ever had someone like that? She lived in a beautiful house, but she’s never had a home. Her parents taught her how to be respected and admired, but they kept her at arm’s length. It’s taken a fatal disease for Opal to recognize the error of her ways, and if she believes there’s still hope for a reconciliation, then I choose to believe that too.”

Reba shrugged. “Suit yourself. But my throwin’ stars will be ready when Loralyn starts misbehavin’.”

“That’s because you’re always looking out for me,” Ella Mae said. “Now let’s get rolling. By the time we get home, I need to figure out how to tell Opal Gaynor that I found her daughter, and then immediately lost her again.”

*   *   *

Reba was just pulling into a gas station to fill up the truck when Suzy called. Ella Mae put the phone on speaker mode again, enabling Reba to participate in the conversation.

“Sorry it took so long for me to get back to you with a translation,” Suzy said. “The bookstore has been mobbed and my help called out sick. Somehow, I think her stomach bug had something to do with the cute boy she met at the carnival.”

Suzy sounded as tired and grumpy as Ella Mae felt. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “None of us seem to be having a spectacular Monday.”

“I take it there were no epiphanies in Sweet Briar?” Suzy asked.

“Other than finding Loralyn Gaynor, no.”

Suzy inhaled sharply, but Ella Mae began speaking before her friend could assault her with questions. “Before you get too excited, our conversation was about fifteen seconds long and it wasn’t altogether friendly. Loralyn was quite flustered.” She hurriedly summarized their entire visit.

“She must be after the golden apple. Or apples. There were three apples in the myth. Either way, something magical
must
be hidden in that house,” Suzy insisted.

“What makes you so certain?” Ella Mae asked tiredly. “Because I feel like we’re chasing shadows.”

There was a rustle of paper on the other end of the line.
“The key fob, for starters. The translation of the Greek means ‘everlasting.’ Or ‘eternal.’ Take your pick.”

Ella Mae stared out the window to where the sky was darkening over the Georgia hills. “Add that to the apple blossom carving on the frieze and the statues we saw inside the house—one of which was Hippomenes and the other of which was undoubtedly Atalanta—and these are either signs pointing to a hidden treasure or just that Margaret Woodward was a big fan of the Atalanta myth.”

“Even if a treasure does exist, is it magical?” Reba interjected. “Or just something pretty, shiny, and dipped in gold?”

Ella Mae mulled this over. The Camellias were obviously interested in wealth. They married rich men and encouraged their daughters to marry rich men. It was only within the last two decades that the women had started acquiring wealth through their own means. They now sought high-paying careers in addition to well-bred spouses. They wanted it all: the impressive job, the happy home life, and a membership in the Camellia Club. They were greedy for success and fiercely competitive among themselves. But Ella Mae didn’t think a golden apple would impress these women unless it had special powers.

“It must be magical. An object with healing powers. Or the ability to grant immortality to the possessor.” She furrowed her brows. “So what’s the meaning behind the fob? Is the Camellia Club everlasting? Or just a particular member?”

“The only way to discover that is to get your hands on club directories from ten, twenty, or thirty years ago,” Suzy said. “The Book Nerds and I will start looking around for those. You’d be surprised by what comes up for sale on the book black market.”

Reba sniggered. “Like what? Grimoires? Satanic spellbooks?”

“Of all varieties,” Suzy answered seriously. “Drive carefully now.”

Ella Mae hung up and pointed at the truck stop’s convenience store. “I’ll buy you a pack of Twizzlers while I’m getting our coffee. It’s been a helluva day.”

“Better make it two packs.” Reba examined her freshly manicured nails. “After what you paid for our beauty treatments, it’ll be more economical for me to chew on licorice instead of my nails. And I need to chew on somethin’. There’s too much to think about, and as somebody famous once said, we have miles to go before we sleep.”

*   *   *

That night, moments after Ella Mae entered her dark and empty house, the phone rang. She was tempted to ignore it. All she wanted to do was collect Chewy from her mother’s place, take a shower, and climb into bed. However, when she looked at the caller ID and recognized Julia Eudailey’s number, she felt compelled to pick up the phone.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Julia began. “You probably haven’t even had time to wash off the road dust.”

“That’s all right,” Ella Mae said without much conviction. “What can I do for you?”

Julia laughed. “Actually, I’m calling to thank you. My Howie was just wild about his key lime pie. He had no idea that it was a lactose-free version. After two slices, he was like a new man. He put a record on our vintage turntable and we danced around the living room. We haven’t done that in years! It’s because of your pie that we shared such a lovely evening together.”

Ella Mae smiled over the image of Julia and her husband
kicking up their heels in the living room. “I’m so glad he liked it, but I’m sure there were factors other than my pie that influenced him to dance with his bride.”

“Aren’t you sweet?” Julia’s voice sounded light and bubbly. “I don’t want to keep you. I just called to express my gratitude and to encourage you to make that pie again. It was certainly a hit in the Eudailey household.”

“I definitely will,” Ella Mae promised. “May I ask you something before you go?” Without giving Julia a chance to refuse, Ella Mae went on. “The woman who was kind enough to direct us to Atalanta House. I’m afraid I didn’t catch her name. Could you fill me in?”

There was a slight pause. “Oh, that’s right! Lyn Croly showed you the way. I’d already forgotten.” She laughed again. “I’m really not this flaky. Between this and the key incident, you must wonder what kind of secretary I am.”

“An excellent one, I’m sure,” Ella Mae said, reaching for the club directory on the kitchen table. She remembered that Lyn was one of the three members who’d been absent the day photographs had been taken of all the Camellias. “I now know why I didn’t recognize Ms. Croly.” She told Julia that Lyn didn’t have a photograph in the directory. “And I don’t see her mother’s name either. Am I missing something?”

“It’s a little complex for those outside the club to understand, but Lyn is a surrogate,” Julia explained patiently. “Not all Camellias give birth to daughters, and there are times when our natural-born daughters prefer not to follow in their mother’s footsteps. In those rare instances—and believe me, they are
very
rare—a woman may adopt a surrogate. This woman will become her true daughter in the eyes of the Camellia Club.”

“Fascinating,” Ella Mae said. “Who adopted Lyn?”

Again, Julia hesitated and Ella Mae held her breath.
Finally, Julia said, “Bea Burbank. Bea chose Lyn a few months before she passed away.”

Ella Mae swallowed hard and did her best to keep her tone casual and cool. “Thanks for explaining this to me. At least I’ll be able to greet Lyn when she arrives in August. She’ll be joining the rest of you for the retreat, right?”

“Of course,” Julia said. “In fact, she’s one of the three women running for—oh, I don’t need to go into our club minutiae. You must be exhausted. I look forward to baking with you in a few weeks.”

Ella Mae wished Julia a good night and then collapsed on her sofa. “I don’t need to hunt down Loralyn anymore,” she murmured to the ceiling. “She’s coming back to Havenwood. And when she does, she will make peace with her mother or I’ll threaten to expose her to the Camellias. Whatever she’s after, she won’t get it if she’s thrown out of the clubhouse.”

Satisfied by how the day had ended, Ella Mae headed to Partridge Hill to say a quick good night to her own mother and to fetch her dog. She couldn’t wait to spend the next seven or eight hours snuggled up in bed with her terrier, dead to the world.

Ella Mae paid a visit to Rolling View after work the next day. In the privacy of Opal’s sunroom, she told her everything that had happened in Sweet Briar. Not only was Opal Loralyn’s mother, but she was also an Elder. Therefore, she had to be apprised of the possibility that an object of power could be hidden inside Atalanta House.

The rest of Havenwood’s Elders were present as well, and when Ella Mae finished speaking, Verena turned to Opal and, in the softest voice Ella Mae had ever heard her use, said, “I’m overjoyed that your daughter is safe. And so very close.”

Opal’s eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. “All this time, she’s been in Georgia. And yet she might as well be on the moon. I can’t believe that I have to wait until August to see her.” And then, to Ella Mae’s surprise, Opal grabbed Verena’s hand and clung to it. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Keep getting stronger,” Verena declared stoutly. “Prepare to fight for your daughter. We don’t know what we’re dealing with in regard to these Camellias. They might be coming to Havenwood for the sole purpose of enjoying their annual retreat and producing their centennial cookbook, or they could have a more nefarious purpose. We won’t know their true agenda until I hear Ella Mae ask them about it. If they lie to her, I’ll hear the lie.”

“Can you explain why the Camellias pose a threat to our community?” another Elder asked. “Because if they possess an object of power, we should tread very carefully.”

Ella Mae nodded. “This is a complicated situation, but in light of what Bea Burbank’s daughter told me, I’ve come to believe that Bea was murdered by a Camellia. And because her murder took place in Havenwood and her killer wasn’t apprehended, the return of the Camellias to Havenwood should put us all on high alert. A murderer is undoubtedly accompanying the rest of the Sweet Briar ladies on their annual retreat.”

After exchanging a flurry of low murmurs, the Elders told Ella Mae to continue.

She balled her fists in frustration. “I’ve been unable to gather concrete clues to prove my theory about the murderer, so our best chance of solving the mystery of Bea’s death lies with Loralyn. She’s spent months among the Camellias.” Ella Mae uncurled her fingers and looked at Opal. “She’ll be home before you know it. Until then, stay strong. Keep fighting.”

Opal thrust out her chin in a show of determination. Once, the expression would have irritated Ella Mae, but now, she was glad to see it, for it was a sign of Opal’s strength.

“I have something more effective than medicine. More powerful than any enchantment,” Opal told Ella Mae after
the meeting had adjourned and the other Elders were gone. “And you gave it to me.”

Ella Mae, who was also on her way out, paused in the doorway. “I did? What’s that?”

Though the meeting had clearly drained Opal, she managed a small smile. “Hope. No matter what happens with Loralyn, I will never regret the day I pledged my loyalty to you. Whether you realize it or not, you are still magical, Ella Mae LeFaye.”

*   *   *

The weeks leading up to August were marked by long, hot, humid days, but Ella Mae barely noticed the weather. Her time was spent inside The Charmed Pie Shoppe, where she conducted a flurry of baking experiments.

Creating reduced-sugar, dairy-free, and nut-free pies proved to be far easier than coming up with a gluten-free piecrust. Ella Mae, who felt that she’d perfected her buttery, flaky piecrust years ago, had to start from scratch. Not only did she have to try different flours—and these ranged from almond flour, bean flour, sweet and brown rice flour, a sorghum flour blend, tapioca flour, and millet—but she also had to figure out how those flours interacted with corn or potato starch. Sometimes her dough was too crumbly. Other times, it stuck to her worktable like glue. Once, when she foolishly thought she’d discovered the perfect blend, she tasted a piece of the dough and instantly spit the mouthful into the nearest garbage can.

“Another one bites the dust, eh?” Jenny asked, entering the kitchen with a catering order in hand.

Ella Mae sighed in frustration. “It tastes like egg cartons. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I feel like I’m getting closer to the right combination, but close isn’t good enough.”

“You’ll get it.” Jenny settled down on a stool. “Do you remember how long it took me to roll out a decent piecrust? I was terrible, but you were such a patient teacher. Be patient with yourself. What you’re doing is part cooking, part science, and part art.” She tapped the order form. “So what I have here will either be a source of inspiration or a source of stress.”

Ella Mae wiped her hands on her apron. “Is this a glass half-empty or half-full scenario?”

“Yep,” Jenny said cheerfully. “It’s a proposal for a wedding dessert bar, but the bride has asked for a selection of bite-size gluten-free pies. Apparently, the catering company handling the wedding is providing a gluten-free meal, but the couple wasn’t wild about the company’s dessert options, so they’ve turned to us. I told them you were working on a gluten-free menu, but that I wasn’t sure we could commit to a contract right now.”

“When’s the wedding?”

Jenny glanced at the proposal. “October.”

Ella Mae studied the mess she’d made. Flour covered the table and speckled the floor. Bits of dried dough stuck to her rolling pin, her hands, and her face. She was certain there were small pieces in her hair as well. “It’ll be August in two days, which gives me two days to perfect this crust. If I fail, I’ll have to tell the ladies of the Camellia Club that I can help them create nut-free, dairy-free, and low-sugar pies, but not gluten-free pies. You’ll also have to turn down this bride.”

“And if you succeed?” Jenny asked.

“Then my confidence in my abilities as a pastry chef will be restored,” Ella Mae grumbled. “Because right now, I feel like a rookie. I don’t think I could operate a can opener correctly at this point.”

Jenny came around to Ella Mae’s side of the worktable. “Close your eyes,” she whispered and put her hands on Ella
Mae’s shoulders. “Let me tell you about this bride and groom. They’re high school sweethearts and are super cute. They’re the kind of couple that finishes each other’s sentences. They laugh so loud and freely that you end up laughing with them. The bride told me how, back in high school, the two of them were teased because of their food allergies. She also told me how the groom’s parents once believed his diet was a ploy for attention. And about how her best friend thought she was avoiding gluten just to stay slim. She said the strife made them stronger as a couple. Earlier this summer, this darling couple attended a friend’s wedding where your pies had been served. Seeing the guests’ reactions, they decided to read up on you. They love that you use fresh ingredients, grow your own herbs, buy produce from local farmers, and get honey from area beekeepers. They knew you could make their dessert bar unforgettable. So don’t let them down.”

Suddenly, a powerful heat flooded through Ella Mae’s body and she knew that Jenny had used magic on her. Bolts of Jenny’s liquid sunshine electrified Ella Mae’s blood and gave her an incredible surge of energy. She felt like she could run a marathon. Or two. Opening her eyes, she spun around. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know, but my shift is over, and Finn and I are going to see a movie. By the time we sit through the ads, twenty minutes of previews, and a two-hour film, I’ll be completely recovered.” She pursed her lips. “Unless I gorge on popcorn and Milk Duds—which I shouldn’t do on a date—but probably will. I have no discipline once I get a whiff of that movie theater butter. I’m already planning on buying a huge tub and I might not share a single kernel with Finn. How’s that for starting off a relationship on the wrong foot?”

Ella Mae laughed. “Thank you, Jenny. Not just for the energy boost, which is far better than a six-pack of Red Bull,
but for painting that picture of the couple. You reminded me of why I became a chef in the first place. I lost sight of that somewhere between the white bean flour and the Asian tapioca.”

“Glad to be of service.” Jenny gestured at the worktable. “Would you like help cleaning up? Everyone else has gone home.”

“No, thanks. I’m going to give this gluten-free piecrust another whirl. Hugh’s sleeping at the fire station tonight so I won’t see him until tomorrow.” Ella Mae put her hands on her hips and surveyed her messy kitchen with a grin. “I’m going to crank up the radio, cook myself some dinner, and wipe off this worktable. When I literally have a clean slate, I’ll think about that sweet couple while I experiment with a flour blend I’ve yet to try. For some reason, I have a feeling that it might be the combination I’ve been looking for.”

Ella Ma’s hunch proved true. Though still challenging to roll out—a problem she solved by first refrigerating the dough for an hour before gently rolling it between two layers of flour-dusted wax paper—the piecrust came out of the oven with a lovely golden-brown hue. And when Ella Mae tasted it, she was pleased to discover that the crust had the same buttery, flaky texture as her traditional crusts.

“Hallelujah!” she shouted and danced a little jig in front of the cooling racks.

With Jenny’s liquid sunshine still flowing through her veins, Ella Mae was too wired to sleep, so she made another dozen gluten-free dough balls. After carefully wrapping these in plastic wrap, she placed them in the refrigerator and cleaned the kitchen until it shone.

“Tomorrow, the first gluten-free pies will appear on The Charmed Pie Shoppe’s menu board,” she announced to the empty room.

Feeling incredibly satisfied by her day’s work, she headed home, only to find her mother waiting on the front porch swing. Chewy’s head was on her lap, and though he opened his eyes at the sight of Ella Mae, he couldn’t quite wake up enough to greet her properly. She whispered a hello to him, smiled when he thumped his tail once against the swing cushion, and then lowered herself into a rocking chair with a weary but contented sigh.

“You’re home late,” her mother said.

“I am, but the extra time was well spent. I finally mastered a gluten-free piecrust.” She let out a little laugh. “After all the things I’ve been through, you wouldn’t think I’d find the task so daunting, but it was getting the better of me. Luckily, Jenny came along and gave me the perfect pep talk.” Ella Mae picked a piece of hardened dough out of her hair. “I could use a shower, but I have a feeling that you need to tell me something.”

Her mother’s gaze strayed toward Partridge Hill. She looked as though she was searching for the right words. The hesitation put Ella Mae on edge.

Maybe she wants to voice her feelings about a certain professor
, Ella Mae suddenly thought. She certainly hoped so. Over the last two months, she’d grown very fond of Henry Matthews. She could see that Henry made her mother happy, and it was obvious that Henry was smitten with Adelaide LeFaye. Should the couple ask Ella Mae for her opinion, she’d encourage them to take a chance on love—to work out a way to be together. Because what they’d found in each other was far more important than anything they stood to lose.

“Mom?” Ella Mae prompted.

She expected her mother to smile shyly or to begin by saying that Henry’s time at Partridge Hill was nearing an end, but she did neither of these things. “Someone came to
me requesting a Luna Rose ceremony for the month of August.” Her mother paused. “It’s an unusual circumstance—one I never expected to have to deal with.”

“So it’s complicated?” Ella Mae couldn’t help smiling. “The person who made the request—do you know him well?”

“Well enough,” her mother answered.

“And the woman he’d like to marry? Are you two . . . close?”

This time, her mother simply nodded.

Ella Mae pretended to mull the matter over before saying, “What’s the nature of your concern? Are you worried about the outcome—that the rose won’t bloom for this couple?”

In the silence that followed, Ella Mae recalled the first time she’d unintentionally witnessed a Luna Rose ceremony. It had occurred shortly after she’d moved back to Havenwood, before her own magic had been awakened. Something had prompted her to leave her bed in the middle of the night. She’d looked out her window to find a man and a woman clasping hands in the middle of her mother’s rose garden. However, the rosebush they stood in front of bore no flowers. Its tight, colorless buds yielded no clue as to the type of flower it might produce.

Ella Mae had watched, too entranced to be frightened, as a figure in a white robe and cowl had stepped out of the darkness and raised both arms in a beckoning gesture. Instantly, a cloud of fireflies had descended from the sky and covered every visible inch of the rosebush. When they’d withdrawn, a single rosebud had unfolded. It had sparkled like a candle flame, though its light was a much purer, far more radiant white. It was the most beautiful flower Ella Mae had ever seen.

The robed figure had nodded at the couple. As one, they’d stretched out their clasped hands toward the glimmering rose. However, the moment their fingertips had touched its
petals, its light vanished and the garden had been plunged into darkness. Later, Ella Mae’s mother had explained that the Luna Rose ceremony predicted whether or not a couple was destined to be together. The couple Ella Mae had seen had failed the test.

Suddenly, Ella Mae understood her mother’s predicament. “I see the problem now. How can you officiate the ceremony if you’re one half of the couple?”

Her mother’s brows shot up. “Me?”

“Yes. If Henry wants to be with you and has proposed a Luna Rose ceremony, then—”

“I didn’t meet with Henry today, Ella Mae,” her mother said very softly. “I met with Hugh.”

All the air rushed out of Ella Mae’s lungs. Her head felt balloon-light and tiny stars winked along the edges of her vision. “No,” she whispered. “It couldn’t have been Hugh. I told him about the ceremony because I wanted him to know everything about my life. About my family. But . . .” She shook her head. “Why? Why does Hugh want to use magic now? We’ve been just fine without it. We’re doing great.”

“Because he wants to marry you, Ella Mae,” her mother said. “He wants to build you a house overlooking the lake. He wants to start a family with you. But the past haunts him. The fear that either of you might one day regret your choice to give up magic haunts him.”