Peach Pies and Alibis (24 page)

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Authors: Ellery Adams

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“Yes,” Ella Mae said gravely. “She was infected with
Listeria
. Just like Freda.”

Lynn ran her hands over her face. “Oh, Lord.”

“The cheese found in Melissa’s refrigerator was a soft white variety encrusted with
chives. Does that sound familiar?”

“It does.” Vaughn’s voice was a hoarse croak. “We made a raw milk cheese with chives.
It wasn’t one of the cheeses we put out for Candis and Rudy to try, but I can’t remember
if we sent some home for Mr. and Mrs. Shaw or not.”

Ella Mae studied Lynn. “Do you?”

She seemed to search her memory. “It’s possible. I know I didn’t serve any to Candis
or Rudy because Candis told me that she didn’t care for chives. However, I could have
packed a wedge for her parents, to show them how many different varieties we had on
hand. Vaughn and I were so proud of our fledgling business that we tended to go overboard.
I know we brought you more varieties than you asked for too.” She exhaled and Ella
Mae could almost sense the invisible fear and distress riding the currents of Lynn’s
spent breath. The Shermans didn’t appear to be hiding anything from her. Their secret
was that their farm might be the source of the
Listeria
and that they may have unintentionally poisoned two women.

Was it an accident?
Ella Mae wondered. And though it seemed cruel, she had to ask. “Did you have anything
against Freda Shaw? Any reason to dislike her or wish her ill?”

The Shermans were taken aback. “Of course not,” Vaughn said heatedly. “We’ve only
spoken with her a time or two, but she’s a lovely woman as far as I can tell.”

“Yes,” Lynn agreed. “Mrs. Shaw has only ever been friendly and polite to us. And she
was so complimentary of our food at the wedding. Believe me, we’re distraught over
the very idea that she might be sick because of us. Because of our naiveté.”

Sherman took his wife’s hand. “We can’t call it that, my sweet. We knew it was our
responsibility to test the soil and water and we didn’t do it. We assumed that as
long as our equipment was clean and sanitized that our products would be safe.”

Lynn’s eyes grew moist as the truth of her husband’s statement hit home. “You’re right.
We should never have taken visitors on tours around the farm. They tracked dirt into
the area where we did our cheese making. Without realizing it, we may have invited
that bacteria into the barn.” She covered her mouth and let the tears spill down her
cheeks. “Oh, Vaughn. What have we done?”

The couple held on to each other, and for an instant, Ella Mae knew that they weren’t
aware of her presence. Nothing existed outside the circle of their arms. She felt
sorry for them, and she believed that they hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. Still, they’d
been negligent. By producing and selling their own cheese to members of the public,
they were responsible for the quality of their product. Whether from ignorance or
a casual disregard for the proper safety precautions, they’d failed to protect the
consumer. Ella Mae was in the same business and, to her, that breach of protocol was
inexcusable.

“You’ll have to notify the health officials.” Her tone was stern. “And shut down your
operation until they can run the necessary tests. If your soil and water are clean,
then you can rest easy, but if the contaminated cheese came from Sherman farms, then
you’ll have to face the consequences.” Seeing their stricken faces, she softened her
tone. “Please try to remember if you sold the cheese with chives to anyone else.”

Lynn sighed heavily. “We only made it once and it doesn’t keep long. That’s why we
took it off our menu. The one we gave you is probably the last menu to have it listed,
and the only people who could have eaten it were those who came to the farm around
the time Candis and Rudy did. I have no idea how Melissa Carlisle got a piece of that
cheese, but I’m positive that we’ve never met.”

Ella Mae knew her time with the Shermans was nearly up. She had to shoo them from
the kitchen before Sloan and the Gaynor women finished their dessert. Coming around
to where the unhappy couple sat, Ella Mae touched Lynn on the shoulder. “I’m sorry
this happened, but you need to make it right. Will you?”

Husband and wife nodded solemnly and then left the room. Ella Mae watched them go.
Their tread was heavy upon the floor but at least they were still holding hands. Ella
Mae figured that whatever happened from this point onward, the Shermans would continue
to hold on to each other, even as their dream of living out the rest of their days
as artisan cheese makers came to an end.

The door hadn’t had a chance to stop swinging before Opal Gaynor swept into the kitchen.
She was trim and petite and had the same golden hair and blue eyes as her daughter.
And like Loralyn, her eyes were bright and cold. They reminded Ella Mae of moonlight
on snow. Opal kept her head titled at a haughty angle as she examined her surroundings.

She then feigned great interest in a loose thread protruding from the button of her
tweed jacket. “You make a decent pie, Ms. LeFaye,” she said. “Thank you for the invitation.”

The Gaynors never forget their courtesies,
Ella Mae thought.
Even if each word is covered with a sheen of frost.

Aloud, she replied, “You’re welcome. I hope you’ll drop by again and be sure to bring
your…I’m sorry, Reba said that you had a guest at your table but I’m afraid she didn’t
recognize her.”

“No, she wouldn’t. That’s my cousin, Matilda.” Opal took a step closer to the stool
Lynn had vacated. “Tilda’s visiting from Charlotte. She’s on the city council there
and is a very successful businesswoman. Loralyn and I have convinced her to relocate
to Havenwood. We could use a woman with her intelligence and prowess to take up a
leadership position in our own local…government.”

Ella Mae knew why Opal was speaking so cryptically. The Gaynors were unaware that
she’d been Awakened and Ella Mae wasn’t about to give her own secret away, so she
said, “Havenwood would certainly benefit from having such a smart, savvy woman as
a resident. Especially since we might lose another woman with similar character traits.”
When Opal didn’t say anything, she continued. “I’m talking about Freda Shaw. People
say that she was a fair and honest judge. I’m assuming you know her, since Loralyn
attended her stepdaughter’s wedding.”

Opal looked directly at Ella Mae without a trace of guile. “I’ve known Freda for years.
What happened to her is terrible. And perplexing.” Her eyes narrowed. “I heard she
was infected with a food-borne bacteria. It wasn’t from one of your pies, was it?”

“No,” Ella Mae said, more than a little confused. If neither the Shermans nor the
Gaynors had known that the cheese was contaminated with
Listeria
, then who was responsible for Melissa’s death and Freda’s grave illness?
Who deliberately gave the two women, both chosen to be the next Lady of the Ash, a
piece of the soft white cheese filled with chives and a harmful bacteria?

The villain has to be one of our kind,
she thought furiously and then focused on Opal once again. If she’d come into the
kitchen to confess a secret, Ella Mae had yet to hear it.

“Was there something else I could help you with?” she asked sweetly.

Opal tugged at the thread hanging from her buttonhole again. “I’m sure you’re aware
that your mother and I don’t exactly get along.”

“So I’ve observed, though I’m not sure why,” Ella Mae fibbed. Her mother had said
that the Gaynors and LeFayes had been enemies since Arthurian times, and Ella Mae
had read several accounts of the feud that had erupted between Guinevere and Morgan
le Fay—a feud that had ended their friendship and had begun centuries of enmity between
the two families.

“It’s because of your daddy.” Opal spoke so softly that Ella Mae could barely hear
her. When the words finally registered, Ella Mae found she was too stunned to respond.
“I loved Terran Heath long before Adelaide ever laid eyes on him,” Opal continued.
“He was mine and she stole him from me. And look how that turned out.” Her mouth twisted
in anger, but there was genuine sorrow in her cold, blue eyes.

Ella Mae was afraid to breathe, afraid to make a false move or say anything that might
encourage Opal to stop talking. All her life she’d been trying to discover why her
father was such a taboo subject. She knew that he’d been an archaeologist and had
died during a cave-in. He’d been at the base of an Olmec tomb shaft when the supports
above it had collapsed. With no means of escape, he’d either been crushed by rubble
or had suffocated before rescuers could reach him. That same night, thousands of miles
away, Ella Mae had been born.

And now this woman, whom her mother had been at odds with since Ella Mae could remember,
was telling her that she knew Ella Mae’s father? That she’d been in love with him?
“I didn’t know that you and my father were together once,” she answered. “I don’t
know much about him at all.”

“How typical of Adelaide. To keep him to herself even though he’s long gone,” Opal
said with derision. “She wasn’t always as hard as she is now, you know. His death
changed her. And she was wrong about you. She kept you at a distance out of fear,
thinking that you were meant to become…well, that’s neither here nor there.” She waved
her hand around. “You became a pastry chef. And a fairly decent one at that.” Clearing
her throat, she forced her lips upward into a small, unpracticed smile. “All I wanted
to say is that you and I are not enemies and I appreciate the invitation to lunch.”

A boom of thunder startled Ella Mae, and the rain pounded against the roof with ruthless
abandon. Opal glanced out the window and marched through the swing door before Ella
Mae could question her further, and she had many, many questions. In fact, she was
so busy reviewing everything Opal had said that she didn’t notice Sloan entering the
kitchen.

“I know that look.” His voice was smooth as melted chocolate. Without hurrying, he
crossed the room and came to stand beside her. “May I?” he asked, indicating the strawberry
slices fanned across the cutting board.

She nodded, feeling wary. Neither the Shermans nor Opal Gaynor had seemed threatening,
but Sloan did. He approached every challenge with the stealth and intensity of a stalking
leopard, and Ella Mae knew that he saw her as a challenge, an obstacle to overcome,
a prize to be won. He was a predator by nature, and seven years ago, Ella Mae had
been the prey.

However, she was no longer the same woman he’d wooed then.
She was no longer the woman who’d shared his life in New York. She had become a new
creature in Havenwood. Strong, willful, enchanted. Her senses had sharpened, and right
now, they were warning her that Sloan Kitteridge was dangerous.

He smiled at her with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “My beautiful Ella Mae.
Here we are at last. Alone.”

“Except for Reba and Maurelle and August,” Ella Mae pointed out with an airiness she
didn’t feel.

Sloan reached out to push a tendril of hair away from her cheek, and she instinctively
recoiled. His smile vanished. “That pale-as-death waitress went off with the little
fat man. Apparently, he bought out half the store and needed help carrying all the
pies to his office. Reba’s the middle-aged pixie with the sharp tongue, right? She’s
out on the front porch talking to the big woman who could out-eat a troop of soldiers.
They’re both watching the storm. You should tell them to go on home. Hang the closed
sign. I think you’re done for the day, don’t you?” His voice had grown lower and deeper
as he spoke. It was nearly a growl by the time he uttered his last sentence.

Ella Mae put a hand on the potholder concealing her gun. “I’ll worry about my own
business, Sloan. Why don’t we talk about us? Isn’t that what you came here to do?”

He leaned against the cutting board and picked up her carving knife. Plunging the
point of the blade into the center of a whole strawberry, he began to twirl the knife
around and around, so that a hole appeared in the heart of the strawberry. It grew
larger and larger as the knife spun in a circle, red juice seeping out from beneath
the mangled piece of fruit.

“Stop that, please,” Ella Mae commanded calmly. “I prefer my garnishes to be slightly
more presentable.”

Sloan dropped the knife with a thud and crossed his arms like
a petulant child. “I came back to this hick town because I’m angry. I’ve invested
years in our marriage, Ella Mae. Years that I’ll never have back. Years of sacrifice.
You think I made a big mistake in the elevator with those women, but you don’t know
the half of it.” He straightened up abruptly, as if he were surprised by his own speech.

“Why don’t you tell me everything?” she purred, though inside she was raging. “I’m
ready to listen.”

He responded to her honeyed tone. Uncrossing his arms, he twisted the gold wedding
band on his left ring finger and watched as it reflected the overhead lights. In the
silence, the sound of the rain slapping against the windows intensified, and Ella
Mae could almost imagine that the storm was trying to gain entry to her warm and cozy
kitchen.

“Remember the day we met?” Sloan asked, his gaze distant and eerily blank.

“Of course,” she said. “You drove your rental car into a ditch.”

He grinned wolfishly. “I never could pass by a pretty girl without taking a second
look. And you were pretty. Though not half as beautiful as you are now.”

“And I’d never seen anyone like you. From your clothes, to your car, to the way that
you talked. You were so fearless, so sure of yourself.”

“I knew the right things to say to you, Ella Mae. And which secrets to keep from you.”

This is it,
Ella Mae thought. “Which secrets? Tell me now, Sloan, so you and I can move on.”

“I don’t have to hide the truth from you anymore. Or so I’ve been told.” He scoffed.
“And once you know, it’ll be over between us for sure.”

Lightning flashed, washing Sloan’s face in a pure, white light. For a moment, Ella
Mae saw the young man she’d fallen in love with, but then she blinked and he was gone.
She realized that she didn’t know the person standing before her and that she’d never
really known him. “Have I ever seen the real you?” she asked her husband.

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