Pecan Pies and Homicides (13 page)

Ella Mae tried to picture her mother's garden in summer, to call forth an image of sunshine and colorful butterflies hovering over silky petals, but the night seemed to grow darker still. She sped up, in a sudden hurry to reach her cozy house.

Once inside, she turned on all the lights and fed Chewy. She then lit a fire, poured herself half a glass of wine, and called Lake Havenwood Hotel. When she asked to be put through to Barric Young's room, the desk clerk hesitated.

“I'm sorry, ma'am,” he said. “Mr. Young has checked out.”

“What?” Ella Mae couldn't conceal her astonishment. “Oh, but I really need to reach him. Do you have a contact number?”

The clerk cleared his throat officiously. “I am not permitted to share that information.”

“Of course.” Ella Mae knew it was useless to argue, but she had to locate Barric. “Did he leave a message? A forwarding address?”

“I'm afraid not.” The clerk's polite tone was tinged with impatience. “Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”

“No, thank you.” Ella Mae hung up and sank down on the sofa. She wrapped the chenille throw Aunt Sissy had given her for Christmas around her shoulders and threw a slim piece of wood from the hearth basket into the fire. The flames diminished for a moment and then leapt over the fresh wood, crackling and snapping as they enveloped it.

Chewy finished his meal and came to sit beside her. The terrier closed his eyes while Ella Mae continued to stare into the fire. A scrap of paper floated just out of the reach of the hungry flames and Ella Mae followed its perilous flight, thinking of Eira and how she'd danced with danger.

“You played with people's hearts,” she whispered when a tongue of fiery yellow eventually consumed the paper. “That's far more reckless than playing with fire. And yet, you were left to freeze to death. Fire and ice. Love and hate.” She pulled the throw tighter across her shoulders. “And now, a murder suspect's gone missing.” Running her fingers through Chewy's fur, she sighed and picked up the phone again. It was time to tell the police why they needed to find Barric Young without delay. Maybe they could track him down, question him, and declare the case closed before the winter carnival.

Touching the four-leaf-clover-shaped burn on her palm, Ella Mae took a deep breath and dialed the station.

• • •

The next day passed in a flurry of baking. The Charmed Pie Shoppe was packed to capacity from the moment it opened until closing time. Ella Mae didn't untie her apron and leave at four in the afternoon as she usually did. Instead, she worked until late in the evening preparing food for the carnival.

By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, Reba came into the kitchen to announce that the streets of Havenwood were crowded with unfamiliar faces. “Every hotel within fifty miles is booked solid. Our regulars are all out of sorts because they have to wait even longer to eat at ‘their pie shop' because a bunch of ‘snowbirds' decided to visit. I asked Jenny to give the locals an extra shot of zip-a-dee-doo-dah.”

“How's Jenny doing?” Ella Mae asked. She knew the Upton siblings had left for the day, and regretted having been too busy to talk with them much.

“She's lost some of her sparkle,” Reba said. “No surprise, seein' what she's learned about her best friend. I'm glad she's got Aiden. He dotes on her.”

Ella Mae smiled. “Did you see his face when Suzy stopped by and invited them to her place for supper? I've never seen a man his size blush such a deep shade of red. His cheeks were the same hue as cherry pie filling.”

Reba raised a warning finger. “He's not as transparent as we'd like to believe. Verena called and asked him to deliver a caramel apple pie today. She did her best to grill him about the Oak Knoll grove while pretendin' to dig around in her purse for her wallet. No luck. She said that he avoided answerin' every question she asked about the fire.”

“Do you think Aiden's hiding something?”

“Yes, but I don't know what. He and Jenny have a secret. I can tell by the way they shoot quick, nervous looks at each other.”

Ella Mae slapped a ball of dough onto the worktable, sending a cloud of flour into the air. “Maybe Suzy can get something out of him. What about Robert Morgan? What's he been up to besides cremating his wife without ceremony?”

“I hear he's gettin' nice and cozy with Opal Gaynor.” Reba wriggled her brows suggestively. “He's at Rolling View all the time. But according to the rumor mill, the master of the house is comin' home tomorrow, and I don't think Jarvis Gaynor is the type of man to sit by and watch his wife flirt with another man.”

“Maybe Opal's spending time with Robert to show the community her sympathetic side. After all, the
Daily
has been full of articles on Eira's death,” Ella Mae said. “Did you see this morning's edition? The front page showed a photo of the Gaynors' house from the night of the party with a headline proclaiming that Rolling View was the last place Eira was seen alive.”

A wicked twinkle appeared in Reba's eyes. “Opal and Loralyn are always tryin' to hog the spotlight. Well, now it's shinin' down on them, nice and bright. They're like little bugs under a magnifyin' glass. Shoot, I can practically smell the smoke.”

“Did someone mention smoke?” Hugh poked his head in through the back doorway. “Should I call my buddies at the fire department?”

Reba gave Ella Mae a disgruntled glance. There were things Hugh shouldn't overhear and Ella Mae knew that Reba didn't like him entering the pie shop without knocking first. However, she was quick to hide her displeasure. Turning to Hugh, she said, “I could find a way to get those boys ready for action without usin' a telephone.” She punched Hugh playfully on the arm. “Don't keep Ella Mae up too late, you hear? She's been workin' double shifts every day this week and needs rest.”

Hugh saluted her. “My intentions are completely innocent, ma'am. I thought I'd help her clean up so she can get out of here faster.” He raised a grocery bag. “And I'm going to fix supper. I'm not much of a cook, but I can get a pot of water to boil.”

“Just by lookin' at it, I bet.” Reba smiled, squeezed Hugh's cheek, and left.

Hugh came around behind Ella Mae and kissed her on the nape of her neck. “Let me take you home, sweetheart.”

Ella Mae leaned back against his chest, feeling the warm and comforting solidness of his body. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Neither of them spoke. It was enough just to stand close to each other.

“I'm so tired. You might have to carry me to my car,” she whispered.

“I need to tidy up first. You sit and order me around.” Hugh pushed Ella Mae onto a stool, wrapped the dough in plastic wrap, and placed it in the refrigerator. He then wiped the counters and the work surface and swept the floor. When he was done, he pulled Ella Mae to her feet and, without another word of warning, lifted her over his shoulder.

“I was only kidding!” Ella Mae cried. “I'm not
that
tired.” Her hair broke free from its clip and fell in whiskey-colored waves. She nearly dropped her purse and lost a shoe as well.

“Stop wiggling and hit the lights.” Hugh thumped her on the bottom.

“Do you manhandle all of your victims like this?” She laughed and flicked the light switch.

Outside, the winter air took Ella Mae's breath away. Her coat was still in the pie shop. “Oh, it's cold! Come on, Hugh. You can let go of me now.”

“Never,” Hugh said and squeezed her tighter. “I'm going to carry you home when you've had enough. I'm going to rescue you from work and from loneliness and from anything else that troubles you. That's my job and my promise. I'm going to rescue you. Over and over again, if necessary. So quit your squirming and get used to it.”

Ella Mae smiled but said nothing. She'd been right, as a young girl, to have fallen in love with a boy named Hugh Dylan. He was one in a million. And he was hers.

• • •

The morning of the winter carnival dawned gray and cold. Rumors of snow circulated throughout the town, increasing the anticipatory air already permeating every inch of Havenwood. Even in January, snow was rare in the Georgia mountains. The promise of the tiniest flurry sent children scouring the house for buttons and carrots on the off chance they'd be able to make a snowman.

“We're supposed to get anywhere from a dustin' to two inches. All this science and still there isn't a weatherman on this earth who can actually predict the weather,” Reba said. She sat in the pie shop's kitchen, eating a meat pie for breakfast. “These are really good. I hope you made enough.” She gestured at a takeout container meant to hold salad dressing. “What's in here?”

“Paprika aioli. It's for the meat pies. I thought it would be nice to serve a sauce with a little kick. I made basil buttermilk mayo for folks who prefer something mild.”

Reba dipped a corner of her crescent-shaped hand pie into the aioli and took a bite. Her eyes widened. “Whoa. That sent a jolt of heat right down to my toes.” She studied Ella Mae. “You've worked some serious magic with the carnival food. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“About five hours. But I feel strangely energized. It's not just the possibility of snow either. I feel like something's going to happen today.” Ella Mae touched the burn scar on her palm. “Maybe I'll find Eira's killer. Or, at the very least, discover the identity of her lover.”

“Your aunt Verena is hell-bent on pinnin' down Aiden today. She'll get an answer out of that boy about the Oak Knoll grove fire if it's the last thing she does.” Reba smirked. “I hope he doesn't get mad and start burnin' stuff. That could be a disaster.”

Ella Mae paused in the middle of packing a tray of mini cheeseburger pies. “I hope you're armed. Aunt Verena can't defend herself against fire.”

“Oh, I'm armed. And dangerous.” Reba winked. “And I'm wearin' my new red cowboy boots. These beauties were custom made.”

“So there's an entire arsenal stashed between your knees and your toes?”

Reba nodded. “Exactly. And yet, they're as cozy as a pair of slippers.” She leaned over to examine Ella Mae's fur-lined boots. “I know you're not packin' heat in those Eskimo shoes. Where's your piece? In your apron?”

Ella Mae knew Reba was referring to the Colt Forty-five she'd taken from the gun cabinet in Partridge Hill a few months ago. “In my purse, where I hope it'll stay. If we corner a killer or an arsonist today, I'd like to let the police handle the arrest.”

Reba snorted. “Oh, right, 'cause they were so grateful when you called to tell them about Barric and Eira's mystery man. Her baby daddy, as they say on those stupid talk shows. The cops don't even know where Barric is, let alone the identity of her other boyfriend. And I thought
I
liked to juggle men. That girl could've had her own circus act.”

The arrival of Jenny and Aiden put an abrupt end to that conversation.

“Coffee,” Jenny croaked. She looked as if she hadn't slept in days.

“It's too bad you can't zap yourself,” Reba said, hastening to pour Jenny a cup.

Aiden put a hand on his sister's shoulder. “She'll be all right. She's tough and we've got a big day ahead of us.” He pointed at the trays filled with bite-sized pies and tarts. “Which ones are we supposed to pass out to the Oak Knoll folks?”

“Let me handle that. You just tell me who they are,” Ella Mae said. Because she couldn't put complete trust in the Upton siblings, she wanted to serve the enchanted food herself. And for the first time, the magical fare wasn't pie.

The last thing she'd made before Hugh had shown up Wednesday evening was a special batch of piecrust cookies. Shaped like snowflakes, the crisp, buttery cookies were covered with cinnamon sugar. When Ella Mae sprinkled the sugar mixture over the dough, she'd thought back on the dry, autumn evening when her high school class had gathered around the Homecoming bonfire.

The bonfire, which was a long-standing tradition, was always supervised by the fire department. However, no one could have predicted that an inebriated senior would grab a burning branch and race into the woods, the branch held high overhead. Havenwood hadn't had rain for weeks and the pine needles crackled beneath his feet. The firemen gave chase while the student's classmates cheered. It wasn't long before the boy stumbled over a root and fell flat on his belly. The burning stick went flying and came to rest at the base of a pine sapling. The small tree caught fire with a loud
whoosh
. Ella Mae remembered exactly how she and the other spectators had stood in horrified awe as flames raced up the trunk and spread across the branches. The pine needles looked like Fourth of July sparklers as they blazed yellow and orange against the night sky. And then another tree caught. And another.

Luckily, the fire engine was parked nearby and the volunteers soon had everything under control. Years later, Ella Mae had stood in her pie shop kitchen recalling how everyone had been completely hypnotized by the hungry flames.

“Show us your love for fire,” she'd whispered to the cookie dough. “Tell us of its power. Of how it could turn a grove into ash. Be compelled to boast about it. You are proud of what you've done. The fire you created was magnificent. Beautiful. Describe it to someone.”

Now, with an hour remaining until the winter carnival would begin, Ella Mae put her hand on the lid of the tray containing the snowflake cookies and prayed that the enchantment would work.

“Time to load the Jeep,” she said brightly, feeling that tingle of anticipation again.

Aiden and Jenny grabbed two trays apiece while Reba propped open the back door. However, Aiden didn't step outside. He stopped in the threshold and inhaled, his mouth curving into a twisted smile. “Fire,” he murmured.