Peach Pies and Alibis (21 page)

“I hope so,” she told Chewy as he was gulping down his breakfast. “
Someone
should be happy around here.”

After dressing in jeans and a T-shirt, Ella Mae slipped on a pair of tennis shoes
and carried her second cup of coffee and a copy of the
Daily
into the garden. Chewy darted in the opposite direction, setting his sights on the
woods
bordering Partridge Hill. He streaked over the grass, his dark eyes glimmering with
anticipation as he launched himself from the lawn onto the carpet of pine needles.
Startled mourning doves and chipmunks scattered at his approach. Within seconds, Ella
Mae could no longer see him, but she knew where he was by the sound of his zealous
barking.

Sipping her coffee, Ella Mae strolled past a tall hedge and a row of camellias, following
the path of pale blue stones deeper into the garden. When she reached a marble bench
near one of the perennial beds, she was surprised to find Noel, the husband of her
mother’s pretty young housekeeper, kneeling on the ground. He was busy removing the
spent buds from a massive, ochre-hued chrysanthemum, but looked up when he heard the
sound of her footfalls on the gravel.

“Good morning,” she said, smiling at him. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

Ella Mae had met Noel and Kelly at the beginning of the summer when they’d graciously
provided her with an alibi following her arrest on suspicion of murder. Since then,
Kelly had taken Reba’s place as Partridge Hill’s housekeeper, and Noel often stopped
by after work to share a meal with his wife and the LeFayes. He’d gotten a job in
construction shortly after their June wedding, and Ella Mae had run into him inside
her mother’s house dozens of times, but only in the evening. After a long day at work,
he’d stop off at the little bungalow he shared with his new bride, take a quick shower,
and then drive to Partridge Hill smelling of soap and fulfillment. So Ella Mae found
it strange that Noel was here at such an hour and stranger still that he was deadheading
one of her mother’s plants.

“I got laid off,” Noel murmured after a long moment, his gaze fixed on the ground.
“Things have slowed down and my boss had to let me go. Last hired, first fired.”

Ella Mae sighed sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Noel. I know how much you loved building
new homes.”

“I’ve applied to other construction companies, but I’m not holding my breath.” He
stood up and gestured around the garden. “Your mom overheard me talking to Kelly about
how I didn’t think we could make our mortgage payment. She said I could take over
the landscaping around here until I can find another job. Isn’t she awesome?”

“Mom’s lucky to have you, and I know Kelly will be thrilled to have you around,” Ella
Mae said. “We all will. We need a man’s touch at Partridge Hill.”

Noel’s cheeks turned pink with pleasure. “I guess all those summers working in my
mom’s garden when I was a kid have paid off. Hers was nothing like this, but at least
I can prune and weed and take care of the lawn.” He glanced around doubtfully. “Though
I don’t know how your mom has kept up with all these plants and flowers on her own.
Even with her special gifts.”

“She’s very dedicated to her craft,” Ella Mae said. It was a relief not to have to
speak in riddles around Noel. He and Kelly had stood in this garden early in the summer
and the Luna rose had lit up like the moon for them, so they knew Adelaide LeFaye
was an unusual woman. However, Ella Mae had no idea whether Kelly or Noel were of
her kind or not, so she said nothing more.

After chatting for a few minutes more, Noel excused himself, saying that he needed
to trim the boxwood bushes before lunchtime. With a smile, he headed for the garage,
whistling as he walked.

He seems to
be rebounding quickly after being fired,
Ella Mae thought, turning down the narrow path leading to the Luna rosebush. As soon
as she reached it, she released a gasp of dismay. Stepping closer, she whispered,
“Oh, no.”

For there was the brown bud clinging to the stalk,
unyielding as a closed fist—just as it had been since the last ceremony. The couple
who’d come to the garden in hopes of discovering that their love would last a lifetime
had been sent away without having been graced by the sight of a thousand fireflies
or the magical glow of the Luna rose. They’d stood there, probably holding hands and
hardly daring to breathe, and waited for a sign. And what they’d been given in return
was silent rejection. Instead of a dream come true, they’d seen only a dark sky, a
burnt umber moon, and a scattering of cold, unrelenting stars.

Ella Mae thought of Hugh. Would she ever dare to come to the rosebush with him?

“I think my chances of getting him here have dropped considerably,” she mumbled and
reached out to touch the bud. Hesitating, she withdrew her hand before she could make
contact. There was something sacred about the hibernating flower, and she sensed it
was best not to tarnish the bud with her own confused desires.

Hugh stayed on her mind all morning. As she stood in the pie shop’s kitchen making
ball after ball of pie dough for the freezer, his face kept appearing before her.
Even above the pleasant din of country ballads playing on the radio or Chewy barking
out hellos to passersby from his vantage point on the front porch, Ella Mae could
hear Hugh’s voice. She could hear his words of promise.

As if imagining how he looked and sounded wasn’t enough, she could smell him too.
The aroma of cold butter being blended into the floury dough should have kept her
olfactory senses preoccupied, but she could still detect the lingering presence of
Hugh’s scent. In a room filled with the fragrance of dried herbs and fresh spices,
she could detect dew-kissed grass and the cool, clear water of the swimming hole.

“He’s not here,” she reminded herself. “And you have other things to think about.”

After all the dough had been made, Ella Mae loaded Chewy into her Jeep and drove several
towns away to the closest butcher shop. She ordered fresh ground lamb and accepted
a marrowbone on Chewy’s behalf. She then stopped at Costco to restock her supplies
of plain yogurt, sour cream, butter, and toilet paper.

By the time she put her purchases away at The Charmed Pie Shoppe and returned to Partridge
Hill, she knew she wasn’t going to stop thinking about Hugh. She couldn’t stop. She
wanted to hear his voice, to see his face, and to know that there might still be hope
for them.

Ella Mae put on a fresh T-shirt, braided her hair, and spritzed her neck and wrists
with a perfume that smelled of honeyed sunshine, and then jogged down the stairs of
the guest cottage and looked around for her dog. Chewy was displeased over having
to leave his bone, but when Ella Mae whistled and gestured at her bike basket, the
little terrier leapt to his feet and allowed her to load him into his familiar seat.

Her legs pumped the pedals as she urged the bike faster and faster up and down the
rolling hills. So much was resting on her performance during tomorrow’s lunch at the
pie shop, and the weight of it had her feeling reckless. She needed someone who could
handle the wildness flowing through her now—someone who could meet the fire in her
eyes with a fire of his own.

She arrived at the swimming hole breathless from her ride, but Hugh was not there.
Ella Mae sat on the flat rock where she and Hugh had shared her container of succulent
strawberries and took out her cell phone. She didn’t call him right away, but tarried
for a while throwing sticks for Chewy and skipping stones over the mirrorlike surface
of the water. She desperately wanted to connect with Hugh, but she also had no idea
how to undo the damage that had been done Saturday night.

Finally, after Chewy was completely tired out, she dialed Hugh’s number.

“Ella Mae,” he said flatly. It was the first time he didn’t speak her name as though
every letter were coated with sugar. He said it wearily, as if the very thought of
her exhausted him. “What do you want?”

The words were stripped bare of all the tenderness and desire he’d recently shown
her, and the brusqueness hurt. She flinched in the face of it and then gathered her
courage. “I wanted to tell you that I didn’t know Sloan was in Havenwood. I honestly
never expected to see him again. Hugh…I was really looking forward to dancing with
you.”

“And now?” Again, his tone gave away nothing.

“I still want to have that dance,” she whispered softly. “But I have to talk things
out with Sloan. That’s why I called you. I need a little time, if you’re willing to
give it to me. Time to sort this out. Time to become truly free. And I wanted you
to know that my feelings for you haven’t changed.” She paused, remembering how closely
she and Hugh had sat together on this rock. It had only been a handful of days since
they’d kissed, standing waist-deep in the cool water, since they’d whispered their
first tentative dreams of a future together.

If only he would appear now, she thought. If only he’d rise from the depths of the
water like a merman, swim to the shore in a few, powerful strokes, and come to sit
beside her. If only she could push a lock of dripping hair from his forehead and lose
herself in his blue green eyes. She’d give anything to hear the yearning return to
his voice. “Hugh,” she said tremulously. “I still want you. I’ll always want you.”

Hugh was silent for a moment and Ella Mae dared to hope that she’d gotten through
to him.

“When we’re together, it’s easy for me to forget that you’re married,” he said, shattering
her hope like glass. “It was easy to believe that you’ll be divorced in a few months,
that we stood a chance, Ella Mae. I believed that right until the moment your husband
showed up at the Shaws’ house.” He stopped and swallowed hard. “Even though I want
to be with you, I refuse to be jerked around anymore. I’ve had more than my fair share
of that with Loralyn. So there’s really nothing for us to say to each other, Ella
Mae. Not now. Not with the way things stand.”

The tears filled Ella Mae’s eyes, but she blinked them back. Hugh was right. Why should
he wait in the wings while she worked things through with her husband? “I understand,”
she whispered. “But I’m not letting you go. The next time I stand before you, I will
be free.”

“Good luck, Ella Mae,” he said and was gone.

Shoving the phone into her pocket, Ella Mae got to her feet and began picking up stones.
She hurled one after another into the water, infusing each throw with her anger and
heartache. Finally, she tilted her head back and yelled as loud as she could. Chewy
immediately followed suit, raising his black nose to the sky and howling as if he
were a fierce, wizened wolf and not a small, coddled terrier pup.

Back at Partridge Hill, she tried to distract herself by examining the books in her
mother’s library, but she was too restless to read.

“I wish tomorrow would just get here already,” she told Chewy and closed an ancient
tome describing how powerful her kind had been during the reign of the ancient Greeks.
“Let’s go find Reba. She’ll know what I can do with this nervous energy.”

And Reba did. “Adelaide, can you keep Chewy in the house for a spell? Ella Mae needs
a little firepower to help her settle down.”

“Are you going to the shooting range?” Ella Mae’s mother asked, scooping Chewy into
her arms and accepting a dozen kisses from the little dog.

“No,” Reba said. “We’re doin’ things the old-fashioned
way. Soda cans in the woods.” She turned to Ella Mae. “Bring your forty-five. I’m
gonna grab some bigger guns from your daddy’s cabinet. You need somethin’ with a bit
of kick. Somethin’ that’ll tire you out.”

Ella Mae nodded. “Yes. Wear me down and then I’ll crawl home, have some wine, a simple
supper, and a hot bath before bed.” She ran her hands through her hair. “Make that
lots of wine.”

“No booze unless you shoot well.” Reba raised a warning finger. “Come on, help me
pick out a nice rifle or two.”

The sun was hovering close to the treetops by the time the two women reached a clearing
in the forest west of Partridge Hill. With several acres separating their property
from the closest neighbor, the LeFayes had never worried about having target practice
in the woods, and Reba always kept a collection of soda cans on hand in case she felt
like blowing off steam.

“Why do we always shoot at Dr Pepper?” Ella Mae asked as she loaded the Colt.

“I like the color,” Reba said and popped a licorice twist in her mouth. She’d placed
cans in a dozen trees, wedging them into tight nooks between branch and trunk. The
aluminum winked in the autumn sunlight and seemed to taunt the two women as they raised
their firearms and took aim.

Ella Mae quickly emptied her cartridge while Reba took her time with each shot, carefully
aligning the sight on the old rifle to her target. With the licorice hanging from
her mouth like a long red cigarette, she aimed at cans well beyond the Colt’s reach.
Every shot was deliberate and ridiculously accurate.

“If only we knew our enemy’s identity,” Ella Mae said, gazing at Reba in wonder. “They
wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Reba shrugged. “We guardians have a code, girl. We’re not allowed to burst in a place
with our guns blazin’. We can only take out one of your kind if there’s a clear and
immediate
threat. So far, the threats have all been invisible.” She glanced down at her firearm
and frowned. “This rifle’s no good against microscopic bugs. I need a face. A name.
Somethin’ solid to attack. Somethin’ that breathes, and plots, and can bleed.”

“Tomorrow,” Ella Mae promised. “We’ll have answers then.”

“You’re that sure, eh?” Reba said and bit off the end of her licorice stick.

Ella Mae inhaled deeply, drawing strength from the forest. The scent of sticky tree
sap, damp pinecones, and crisp, dry leaves clung to her like a shawl. Closing her
eyes, she listened to the layers of sound enveloping her. Beneath the obvious chatter
of squirrels and the chirping of birds, she heard more subtle noises. A sigh of wind,
a leaf detaching from a twig and spiraling to the ground, a beetle crawling over a
moss-covered rock. And then, in the stillness between the other sounds, she recognized
the whisper of butterfly wings.