Lemon Pies and Little White Lies (7 page)

Ella Mae thought of the three letters she’d received since Hugh had left Havenwood. They’d been sent via airmail and, though Ella Mae enjoyed the novelty of receiving a real letter, she would have preferred more frequent contact. She suddenly wondered how many e-mails Leslie had received, and a dull ache bloomed in her chest. Ignoring the sensation, she nodded. “I definitely do. But you and the Canine to Five team seem to be handling his absence well. I know Chewy is a satisfied customer.”

“That’s sweet of you to say. In all honesty, the dogs are the easy part of this job. It’s the owners that give me fresh strands of gray hair every day.” She gestured at the empty chair on the other side of the desk. “Not you, of course. Would you like to sit down?”

Ella Mae took a seat and invited Chewy to hop up on her lap. She scratched him behind the ears and returned his toothy smile before focusing on Leslie again. “I wanted to talk to you about Coco Chanel, the Shih Tzu.”

Leslie looked surprised. “Coco? Was there an incident between her and Chewy?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m afraid Coco’s owner, Mrs. Mercer, has met with a terrible accident.” Ella Mae hesitated, searching for the right words. “She passed away earlier today.”

“How awful! Poor Coco!” Leslie’s hand flew to her mouth.

“I was hoping you’d continue to board Coco until someone from Mrs. Mercer’s family can come get her. At least she’ll be looked after here and it’ll probably take time for the Mercers to absorb what’s happened and turn their thoughts toward Coco. I’d be glad to cover the cost—”

“That won’t be necessary.” Leslie waved off the suggestion. “We’ll give Coco lots of extra love until her family comes for her. It sounds like she’s going to need it.”

Thanking Leslie, Ella Mae took Chewy out to the car. Reba hugged him and kissed his black nose and rolled down the window for him. The terrier immediately stuck his entire head out of the window, sniffing the air in anticipation of the ride home.

“I think we should swing by the police station before we settle down for an evening of research,” Ella Mae said, and explained why Mrs. Mercer’s dog was in daycare.

“If she was stayin’ at Mrs. Drever’s house because her kitchen was being redone, then it sounds like she lives alone,” Reba said glumly.

An image of Joyce Mercer’s submerged face entered Ella Mae’s mind and she gripped the steering wheel, trying to push aside thoughts of the woman’s naked flesh filling the tub basin or the bright pink of her toenails in the clear water.

“You okay?” Reba asked.

“I’m going to need a glass of wine tonight,” Ella Mae said as she backed out of Canine to Five’s parking lot. “Just one. It’s been a helluva a day and it’s not even six yet.”

Leaving Chewy in the mail truck with the windows cracked, the women entered the police station, where they were told that Officer Hardy was busy and that Officer Wallace would meet them in the conference room.

Ella Mae groaned. “I hate that room.”

“It’s the artwork,” Reba said. “A bunch of pictures of grouchy-lookin’ men in uniform and ugly landscapes.”

“I think it has less to do with the paintings and more to do with the fact that I spent a morning in that room believing I was about to be arrested for murder,” Ella Mae said.

As it turned out, the room was almost unrecognizable.
The walls had been painted a warm taupe, the metal chairs had been replaced by leather desk chairs on casters, and both the artwork and the portraits of former police chiefs were gone. Framed nature photographs occupied the longest wall while the state flag of Georgia hung between the room’s two windows. The drab, brown curtains had been removed, and the blinds were open.

“This is a transformation worthy of HGTV,” Ella Mae told Officer Wallace, and began to examine the photographs more closely. She was drawn to a nighttime image of Lake Havenwood. A full moon had cast a glimmering path across the surface of the water, and it was both inviting and eerie. Next to the image of the lake was a photograph of the rocks at the swimming hole. There were also photos of the stream in the park, the narrow waterfall in the mountains, and several snapshots of a deserted beach. “These are wonderful.” She peered at the signature in the bottom corner of an image of a wave curling onto the shore. “M. Wallace. Are these your work?”

The pretty officer blushed and nodded. “I got into photography about a year ago. It took me half as long to talk the chief into letting me spruce up this room and hang my prints here.”

“They’re real nice, but how will you intimidate the bad guys when this place feels like a coffee bar?” Reba asked.

“Never fear. We still have a cold, gloomy, claustrophobic interview room down the hall,” Wallace said, her dark brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “For now, I just need to review your statements and have you sign them. No interrogations necessary.”

While Reba examined the paperwork, Ella Mae told Officer Wallace what she’d learned at Canine to Five.

The policewoman nodded solemnly. “Mrs. Mercer is a widow. Her son, Finn, lives out-of-state, but he’s en route to
Havenwood. I was in Officer Hardy’s office when he had to tell Mr. Mercer what happened to his mom.” She shook her head, clearly saddened by the experience. “I don’t think I could do that.”

“You could if you had to,” Reba said. “Our kind is made of stern stuff.”

Officer Wallace’s gaze slid to the row of photographs on the wall. For a moment, she looked acutely vulnerable. In a blink, she was no longer a confident policewoman in her late twenties but a lost and frightened child. But then she shook her head and became herself again. “I hope our people in Scotland are made of stern stuff. The storm will make landfall in two hours. It’s going to be a nightmare come to life.”

Ella Mae could almost hear the sound of the hurricane gale sweeping over roofs along the Scottish coast. In the starless night, the water would climb up beaches. Its liquid black fingers would creep over docks and claw at the shore. The fingers would quickly turn into hands. These would smash into fences, cars, and buildings. Thinking of the flooded streets, ruined groves, and evacuated towns made Ella Mae angry. She hurriedly signed her statement and pushed it across the table.

“I’m sorry about what happened to Mrs. Mercer.” She stood up to leave. “Please let me know where Mrs. Drever has gone and if she’s all right. You can call me as late as you’d like. Reba and I have hours of work ahead of us. We’re going to make sure we’re ready to battle a Nuckelavee should such a storm come our way.”

Officer Wallace’s eyes grew round as buttons. “That’s impossible. We’re way too far inland. Not only that, but our grove is way above sea level. It’s a veritable fortress. A castle with boulders for walls.”

Ella Mae paused in the doorway, and said, “No castle is impregnable.”

“Maybe not.” Reba gave her a little nudge, propelling her forward. “But think of all the cool weapons used to defend them. Arrows. Catapults. Vats of burnin’ pitch. Maybe I need to add a few of those goodies to my arsenal.” Reba sounded gleeful at the thought.

Her merriment was soon dimmed. By the time Reba and Ella Mae had prepared a quick meal of spaghetti Carbonara and salad and turned on the TV in Ella Mae’s living room in search of news about the storm, they were shocked to learn that a cruise ship off the coast of Britain had been hit by a rogue wave and had foundered.

“Rescue efforts are underway,” a reporter in foul weather gear shouted over the driving rain as the dark sea roiled behind him. “But conditions are making it nearly impossible to search for survivors. Relatives of those on board fear the worst.”

“We’re going to need more than pitch and arrows,” Ella Mae said in a low and dangerous voice. Her appetite gone, she laid down her fork and turned to Reba. “It’s time to learn what power is behind this killer storm.”

Chapter 4

Ella Mae and Reba crossed the lawn and walked through the back garden to the main house. Ella Mae carried a glass of wine into the library while Reba went off in search of whiskey.

The lights in the library were blazing and a stack of books and scrolls waited on the large mahogany table in the center of the room. Ella Mae’s mother sat on the leather sofa with a pile of loose documents on her lap. She wasn’t looking at them; she was staring into the middle distance, as if lost in a memory.

Ella Mae stumbled upon her in this state more and more often. Even though her mother told her not to worry, she found it disconcerting.

“It’s almost like a dream state,” her mother said a week ago. “I’ve always been in tune with plants and flowers, but my bond to the natural world is far stronger now. Even though you separated my body from the ash tree, I am
somehow still connected to it. Those roots ran deep. Very, very deep.”

Ella Mae realized that it had been foolish to hope that everything would go back to normal after she’d freed her mother. Even before her mother had volunteered to become the Lady of the Ash, she’d been taciturn. Now, she rarely spoke. Her dark hair had gone silver, she no longer needed reading glasses, and she fell into one of her “lapses” several times a day. It was as if she were listening to music that no one else could hear.

Setting her glass on the table, Ella Mae quietly moved to her mother’s side and touched her shoulder. “I’m here,” she whispered.

Her mother blinked. “Good. I laid out what I could find on groups of our kind combining forces, but there must be more information than this. Is Suzy coming over?”

“No, she has a date. Reba will keep me company.” Ella Mae noted the bags under her mother’s eyes. “Why don’t you turn in early tonight?”

Her mother smiled. “Do I look that bad?”

Ella Mae shook her head. “You’re more beautiful than ever.”

It was true. The LeFaye sisters were famed for their beauty. Though no longer young women, they still possessed radiant skin, lustrous hair, and captivating pewter-gray eyes. Adelaide LeFaye, the tallest of the four sisters, had always had the bearing of a queen. To Ella Mae, her mother’s regal air hadn’t diminished, but she’d become a bit of a recluse. She seldom left Partridge Hill, preferring to spend most of her time in the garden. She’d sit for hours among the plants, her hands turning the soil as she hummed the same melody to the roses and the rest of the budding flowers.

Her mother straightened the documents in her lap and handed them to Ella Mae. “I don’t think I’ll get much sleep
tonight knowing what’s happening in Scotland, but I’ll try. I’ll open the windows.” Her voice sounded distant. “That way, I can smell the phlox and Solomon’s seal blossoms. And if I gaze at the sky long enough, the stars look like clusters of white rue anemone petals growing in rich, black soil.”

Reba entered the room and, after studying Adelaide’s weary face, ushered her upstairs to bed.

When Reba returned, she took a gulp of whiskey and sat at the table across from Ella Mae. “Her senses don’t turn off like ours do. It’s like part of her is always tuned in to the natural world. Even when she sleeps.”

“I know. She feels things and they influence her mood, but she can’t put those feelings into words. They’re too intangible, like a dream you can’t remember no matter how hard you try.” Ella Mae stroked the supple cover of a book bound in vellum. “Some days she’s perfectly normal, but there are moments when I barely recognize her. I feel like I didn’t really save her. Only part of her.”

“She said it would take time,” Reba reminded Ella Mae, and then gestured at the stack of reading material. “So will this. Just look at all these books. This is
not
my forte.”

“Luckily, it’s mine!” declared a voice from the doorway.

“Suzy?” Ella Mae smiled in surprise and delight. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Aiden?”

Suzy shrugged. “I met him for a drink, but I’m not a big fan of beer, green or otherwise, and the pub is way too rowdy. Plus, Verena stopped by The Cubbyhole this afternoon. Ever since she mentioned your evening plans, I’ve been dying to come over and hit the books.”

“That wasn’t nice of her,” Ella Mae said, and made a mental note to chastise her aunt. “Aunt Verena forced you to divide your loyalty, and it wasn’t even necessary. I planned on recruiting you tomorrow anyway.” She placed her palms
on a thick tome. “You should be out enjoying yourself. These can wait.”

Ignoring Ella Mae, Suzy turned to Reba. “I can take it from here.”

“You won’t hear any protests from me.” Reba practically leapt from the chair and, grabbing her whiskey, raised it in a toast. “May the hinges of our friendship never grow rusty.”

And with that, she was gone.

Suzy pointed at Ella Mae’s untouched glass of wine. “One shouldn’t drink or research potentially dangerous subjects alone.”

“There’s an open bottle in the kitchen. Feel free to bring it in here. This might be a long night,” Ella Mae said.

Suzy covered Ella Mae’s hand with her own. “You’ve had your fair share of late nights lately, haven’t you? I’d say you’ve been through trial by fire this year. Just when you got your mother back, Hugh took off. I don’t know how you’ve handled things as well as you have. If I were in your shoes, my pies would taste of disappointment and bitterness. Yet your food is still infused with good cheer. Verena said that you have so many wedding requests that you need to hire a catering manager.”