Pecan Pies and Homicides (9 page)

“That's Miss Lulu to a tee.” Jenny laughed softly. “I love her to death, but she could use an obedience class. Shoot, she could use a live-in obedience tutor.”

“Is your coffee shop named after her?” Ella Mae asked.

The humor in Jenny's eyes vanished. “Yeah. I came up with the name Lulu's Lattes when the coffee shop changed hands last year. The man who bought it carried Lulu in his arms the day he came in to meet the current staff. I'm not sure who I fell in love with first. Curt or Miss Lulu.”

Ella Mae saw the hurt in Jenny eyes when she spoke the man's name. “Is Curt the ex you mentioned earlier?”

Jenny nodded. “That's him. Things had been going downhill between us for a while, but we lived and worked together, so our breakup was complicated. Until you called, that is.” She gave Ella Mae a sad smile. “Suddenly, things became very clear. I told Curt he could have all of my stuff if I could have Miss Lulu. I can live without my furniture, but I can't live without that dog. We bitches need to stick together.”

“Now that's
a toast!” Reba exclaimed and raised her glass.

“I'll hang a sign on Partridge Hill's front lawn,” Ella Mae said, lifting her own glass. “Bitches welcome.”

The women laughed and then continued to make plans. By the time the food and wine were gone, the room was filled with warmth and fellowship. Ella Mae felt invigorated. She had a renewed sense of purpose. People to fight for. As she glanced around the table, she marveled at the beauty she saw in each woman's face.

That's what hope looks like
, she thought.
Hope. The most powerful kind of magic.

Ella Mae spent Monday morning grocery shopping and making piecrusts. She had little time to prove to tourists and locals alike that The Charmed Pie Shoppe was Havenwood's best eatery. With only a week to go until the winter carnival, she needed tales of her wondrous pies to go viral.

In the shop's sun-filled kitchen, Ella Mae sat on a stool in front of her worktable. She scooped up a handful of flour and let it fall between her fingers, watching the wood surface of the table turn powdery white.

“I need a shortcut,” she mused aloud. “If I can infuse a week's worth of piecrusts with feelings of happiness, then every dish I serve will be charged with magic.” She opened a bag of salt and rubbed a few grains between her thumb and forefinger. “Does magic have a shelf life?”

She looked over the ingredients on her shelves, waiting for a spark of inspiration. Last week, she'd done her best to fill the pies with warmth and cheer, but she couldn't do the same thing again or her customers would grow used to the enchantment. She needed to surprise them with new tastes and sensations each time they dined at The Charmed Pie Shoppe.

The radio was tuned to the country station, but Ella Mae couldn't get into any of the songs. She tried generic pop, oldies, and light jazz, but nothing worked. Finally, she hit scan, hoping that some random song would burst out of the speakers and ignite an idea. Instead, the rotating digits stopped on a talk radio station, catching the disc jockey in the middle of wishing a caller a happy eightieth birthday.

“My great-granddaughter and I were both born today,” the woman was saying. “She's having a princess party this afternoon and I'm invited. Everyone will be wearing tiaras and corsages, including me. I've never had a tiara before!” The woman giggled.

The sound of the old woman's mirth was exactly what Ella Mae needed to hear. She searched through mental snapshots of childhood, trying to recall when she'd felt as giddy as the old woman. Closing her eyes, she found the perfect memory.

She remembered one Halloween night in particular. Dressed as Dorothy from
The Wizard of Oz
, Ella Mae had wriggled all through supper, impatient to start trick-or-treating with her friends. The second she finished her meal, she was at the front door, calling for Reba to hurry.

“I cannot believe you talked me into wearin' this getup,” Reba shouted from the next room. And then she appeared in the hall wearing her Cowardly Lion costume and Ella Mae had giggled. Those giggles soon turned into peals of laughter, because Reba was the epitome of silly. She wore a mane of brown yarn, had apple red cheeks, and had used eyeliner to create her black nose and whiskers. But it was her tail that got Ella Mae
laughing with every twitch or wiggle.
Made of yellow felt sewn around a length of wire, the tail was too long and seemed to have a mind of its own. Reba would turn to the right and the tail would go left. All the children trick-or-treating with them that night had more fun chasing Reba's tail than collecting fistfuls of candy.

Ella Mae held on to that memory as she made ball after ball of dough. Dough that would later be rolled out on a lightly floured surface and turned into piecrusts. The majority of the dough balls were cocooned tightly in plastic wrap and put in the freezer, but Ella Mae left out a dozen or so. One at a time she rolled these out, set them into pie plates, and fluted the edges.

After stopping to eat lunch and read what the newspaper had to say about the upcoming carnival, she got back to work. She still had graham cracker and shortbread cookie crusts to make, and because the Halloween memory had lost its freshness she focused on a different one.

“The Easter Egg Hunt,” she said, crumbling graham crackers over her mixer bowl. “The year I won the chocolate duck.”

She smiled as she recalled pulling a burlap sack up to her waist and hopping across the wide lawn behind the church. A pocket, shaped like an Easter basket, had been sewn on the front of her sack and Ella Mae, and dozens of other children were supposed to collect eggs and stick them in their basket pockets. The more the kids bounced, the harder it was to keep the eggs tucked inside the pockets. Not only that, but some of the eggs were filled with jellybeans. Those bounced and rattled with every hop, making the children laugh, which, in turn, made it harder to jump.

The biggest challenge was reaching the eggs scattered at the bottom of the lawn's only slope. Weighed down by eggs and unbalanced by the burlap sacks, most of the contestants fell somewhere on that hill. Ella Mae was always among them. However, the children would just roll the rest of the way down, giggling like mad and getting grass stains on their shirts and the top halves of their Easter dresses. The year Ella Mae had fallen the hardest and somersaulted all the way to the bottom was the year that she'd stood, dizzy and laughing, and hopped to the nearest tree to find the coveted prize: a chocolate duck wrapped in gold foil.

By three o'clock, even this delightful memory was used up and Ella Mae was exhausted. She was unused to putting magic into everything she touched. Up until now, she made only some of the pies enchanted. This was the first time she'd injected feelings into each crust, and the effort had taken its toll.

She looked at the flour-covered floor and knew that she didn't even have the strength to sweep. “I need coffee,” she mumbled wearily and left her untidy kitchen. Locking the back door, she trudged to the Cubbyhole, shocked by how weak she felt. She had to stop more than once to catch her breath, and when she was only a block away from the bookstore, she collapsed onto a bench and sat there for several minutes.

“Are you all right, ma'am?” a man asked. “You sat down kind of hard.”

“I'm just worn out,” she said. “Too much work and not enough play.” She tried to smile, but the muscles in her face wouldn't comply.

The man nodded. “We all have days like that.” His voice was kind. “But the tough times don't last. Just keep that in mind.”

“Thank you.” Ella Mae gave him a grateful smile. “I'm meeting a friend at the Cubbyhole. Seeing her will give me a boost.”

Satisfied that she wasn't ill, the man told her to get some rest and walked away. Ella Mae watched him leave, vowing to store away the warmth she felt over the stranger's concern.
When a friend or family member is solicitous, it feels good
, Ella Mae thought.
But when a person you don't know from Adam cares about your welfare, there's something special about that. It strengthens your faith in your fellow man, makes you believe that goodness is everywhere, just waiting to show itself.

Buoyed by this notion, Ella Mae made her way to the end of the block and entered the Cubbyhole. She stumbled past the display of snow-themed children's books and dropped into one of the soft reading chairs.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” said a familiar voice.

“Hello, Loralyn.” Ella Mae didn't bother glancing up. She was too tired to raise her head and she had no interest in exchanging verbal barbs with her nemesis.

And then Suzy's face was in front of hers. “You look awful. Like you've pulled too many all-nighters. Want some coffee?”

“Please,” Ella Mae whispered.

“Loralyn, I think you need to talk to Ella Mae. She was at the party too and might have a different perspective.”

Loralyn snorted. “She won't help me. Even if she could, I wouldn't want her help.”

“You two need to get over yourselves,” Suzy chided. “Now sit down until I get back. Each of you has something the other person wants. If Ella Mae can help protect your family's reputation from the rumors that are bound to start circulating and you can play your part in getting her mama back, then you'll both win.”

Suzy moved off and Ella Mae caught a glimpse of toned calves and a leopard-print skirt as Loralyn took the seat opposite her. She didn't say a word, and when Suzy returned with Ella Mae's coffee, she clicked her tongue in disappointment.

“Seeing as you probably can't think clearly at the moment, just focus on getting this down your throat,” she said.

Ella Mae immediately complied. She drank the coffee in greedy gulps, ignoring the heat in her mouth and throat.

“You used too much magic today. A common novice mistake,” Loralyn said haughtily. “But I keep forgetting that you're new to all this.”

“It's true,” Ella Mae confessed. “But it'll be worth it.”

“Start talking,” Suzy said to Loralyn. “I'm going to grab Ella Mae a huge glass of water. She probably doesn't even realize she's dehydrated.”

Loralyn waited until Suzy was out of earshot before saying, “I've just spent two miserable hours at the police station. Suzy's a good listener, but she can't imagine how grueling the experience was. How humiliating. You can, of course, since you've been interrogated . . .” She frowned in mock concentration. “How many times is it now?”

Ella Mae ignored the question. “What happened? Does this have anything to do with Eira's death?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Loralyn examined her French manicure.

“I would and you will tell me. I am the Lady's daughter and a dead woman was found just outside our grove.” Ella Mae glanced behind her to make sure that none of the other patrons were listening, but she saw only a mother showing her toddler a picture book about snowmen. The toddler was talking loudly enough to obscure anything Ella Mae had to say. She turned back to Loralyn. “Why were you questioned?”

“Because we were the hosts, of course. The last time Eira was seen alive was at our house. Such a nuisance. Why couldn't you have taken her to your place for a piece of pie and a nice chat?”

“I wish I had,” Ella Mae said. “She might still be with us. I liked her, you know.”

Loralyn gave an eloquent shrug. “She was pretty enough in a waif-like, tiny dancer kind of way. Not much personality though. Like I told the cops, I can't imagine why anyone would bother killing her. She has no money of her own. It's all Robert's. And it's not like he'd bump her off to get her life insurance payout. That sum is pocket change for men like Robert Morgan.”

“It's not always about money, Loralyn. And why are you so certain she was murdered?” Ella Mae strongly believed that Eira had met with foul play, but she wanted to know everything that the police told the Gaynors.

“According to the lab results, Eira ingested several sleeping pills along with some alcohol. One pill would have been enough to send her off to dreamland, but the amount found in her bloodstream was enough to render a bull unconscious, so our men in blue have concluded that she was barely breathing when she was brought to the park. Assuming she was brought there involuntarily, that is. She could have committed suicide for all we know.”

Ella Mae frowned. “I don't think so. Her best friend said she was excited about moving here. Hopeful. People with hope don't lie down and submit to hypothermia.”

“Then who would do this to her?” Loralyn puzzled.

Ella Mae pictured a man carrying Eira in his arms, her limp limbs dangling as he walked. She imagined how the moonlight had shone on Eira's pale hair and clothes, making her look like a ghost long before she became one. “She was taken to the park and left there. Left to freeze to death. That kind of cruelty isn't about money. It speaks of rage. Or revenge. Her killer must have been filled with a cold hatred.”

“Well, I don't know who the murderer is and neither does my mother, so don't bother asking. It's totally inconvenient for us to be involved in this investigation at all. Worse than that is the negative media attention that's certain to follow. That's not good for our reputation. And anything that compromises our family name is bad for business.”

Suzy returned with a second cup of coffee, a large glass of water, and a protein bar. Ella Mae drank the water and started in on the protein bar. She was feeling a little stronger, but not much.

Loralyn was studying her. “So now you know what's going on. Do you really think there's anything you can do to help?”

“Yes,” Ella Mae said. “I've just hired Eira's best friend. She knows most, if not all, of the partygoers from Oak Knoll. Eira didn't have a connection with anyone from Havenwood, so I think it's safe to assume that someone from her town was out to do her harm.”

“How far can some BFF's gossip get us?” Loralyn scoffed. “We need an eyewitness.”

Ella Mae took a sip of coffee. “Oh, I don't know about that. For example, Jenny might know who suffers from insomnia and might have a prescription for sleeping pills.”

Loralyn lifted her brows. “All right. Maybe you and this Jenny person could prove to be useful. And I assume you want something in return, aside from protecting our community and defending truth, justice, and, oh, just fill in the blank with the idealistic principle of your choosing.”

Ella Mae glanced at Suzy. “Did you ask Loralyn about the missing pages from
Lake Lore of the Americas
?”