Pies and Prejudice (16 page)

Ella Mae dropped the letter on top of the check and pressed her fingers into her temples where a headache was stirring to life. She massaged the soft tissue lying against her skull like a blanket and reread the letter.

August returned carrying a pair of iced tea glasses. He handed one to Ella Mae and sat in the leather club chair across from hers. “In all my years, no one’s ever written me a check with that many zeroes.”

“It is a big check,” Ella Mae agreed. “I don’t know what to make of it, August. Sloan might truly be sorry for
betraying my trust, and because he feels guilty, he’s sending me this check so that I can fulfill my dreams.” She took a sip of tea and examined several questionable lines in the letter. “But if he really wanted to give me a gift, there’d be no strings attached. This money comes with a condition. Cash the check and forget about the divorce.”

“Only for six months. This is not a legal document, my dear. You can take that money to the bank and go ahead with the divorce without giving his offer a second glance.” He studied his client for a moment and then leaned forward. “I don’t know this fellow, Ella Mae, and Lord knows I don’t want you to leave Havenwood, but I do believe you should take some time to give your husband’s proposal some serious thought.”

Though her first instinct was to put Sloan’s check in the nearest shredder, Ella Mae decided to heed her attorney’s advice. She wasn’t interested in the money, though it would be nice to pay back her mother and aunts and be in no one’s debt but the bank’s, but she was interested in Sloan’s unique attempt to get her attention. Why had he used money as a way to forestall the divorce? Why hadn’t he simply flown down to Havenwood to plead his case in person? That would have made more of an impact than one hundred thousand dollars.

Folding the check into the letter, Ella Mae realized something else. August had yet to present her with a bill for his services. “I promise to think about it. In the meantime, I need to write you a check, don’t I?”

August gave her a paternal smile, his round cheeks dimpling. He rose and scooped his car keys off his desk. “You don’t owe me a cent. I didn’t so much as fill out a form in the police station. I merely stood by your side as a friend of the family. If you decide to go through with the divorce, I’ll charge you a modest fee to cover the cost of the thousands of trees we’ll have to kill to obtain your emancipation. We lawyers are so very fond of paperwork.”

Pausing at his secretary’s desk, August informed the tidy, gray-haired woman that he was running out again to return Ella Mae to her car.

At the Methodist church, August pulled his Audi next to Reba’s Buick. Putting his car in park, he turned to Ella Mae. “Go on home, dear. Whip up some magic in the kitchen and do some serious thinking. We might rush into love, but none of us should be in a rush to fall out of it.”

Two things occurred to Ella Mae as the Buick churned up and down the hills around Lake Havenwood. The first was that she’d never fallen out of love with Hugh Dylan. That girlhood crush had been in hibernation during her marriage to Sloan Kitteridge, but it had survived intact nonetheless. The second realization, which smothered this momentary thrill like an avalanche, was that she’d likely just ruined any chance she’d had of impressing Hugh. Instead of having an intimate conversation over coffee and pieces of shoofly pie with the man who might be the love of her life, she’d been unceremoniously hauled away in a police car.

Back at home, Ella Mae changed out of her black dress and heels into white shorts and a bottle green T-shirt. Exhausted from the funeral, her involuntary trip to the police station, her visit to August’s office, and the heat, she flopped on the antique sleigh bed that had belonged to her great-grandmother and closed her eyes. But she couldn’t keep them shut. The presence of Sloan’s letter on the nightstand sucked the tranquility from the air. It sent out vibrations, a rectangle of white noise, until Ella Mae stood up and crammed it into her pocket. She then crossed the stretch of garden dividing the guest cottage from the main house in search of her dog.

She found Chewy in the kitchen, snoozing in a dog bed made of red fabric, his belly and all four paws facing the ceiling. Upon closer inspection, Ella Mae realized that the bed was shaped like a Corvette convertible, complete with plush steering wheel and wiper blades. Only Reba would have purchased something so ridiculous.

Ella Mae also found her mother. She was seated at the kitchen table, sampling a generous wedge of one of the
chocolate chess pies Ella Mae had placed in the freezer in the garage.

“I hope you don’t mind.” She waved a laden fork. “I’m famished. The salad I had for lunch clearly wasn’t enough.”

Ella Mae cut herself a sliver of pie, secretly delighted to have caught her mother eating one of her pies with such relish.

Without bothering to get a plate or utensils, Ella Mae tore off a strip of buttery, flaky crust and popped it into her mouth. “The strangest thing happened at the police station,” she said after swallowing the comforting morsel.

Her mother, whose attention remained fixed on the pie, murmured an absent, “Oh?”

“I met Kelly and Noel. They’re not the first couple to have spent the night in your back garden, are they?”

“What a strange question,” her mother replied airily. “I’d have thought you had more pressing concerns right now.”

Ella Mae leaned forward. “When I was a little girl, you used to wander around that circular path at night. And I remember other people being in that part of the garden too. A man, a woman, and you. I’d always thought I was dreaming, but it wasn’t a dream, was it?”

With a shrug, her mother set down her fork. “It’s a very romantic place, Ella Mae. Had you married someone else, you might have gotten engaged there too.”

“But there are no flowers,” Ella Mae protested. “Just a circular path of white stones and a rosebush I’ve never seen bloom.”

An enigmatic smile crossed her mother’s face. “Those are my Luna roses. They’re very rare and only bloom by the light of the full or new moon. Perhaps you’ll see them for yourself one day.” She pushed a small bundle of paper across the table. “By the way, Reba wanted me to give this to you.”

Ella Mae stared at her mother for a long moment, wanting to ask more questions about these strange nocturnal engagements, but she examined the stapled packet instead. It
appeared to be a list of signatures photocopied from some sort of guest book.

“What it this?”

“The names of all the people who attended Bradford Knox’s memorial service,” her mother replied. “Reba knows the church secretary and was able to get the list in exchange for one of your sweet potato pies. Guess you’ll have to restock the freezer before your grand opening.”

Scanning the names, Ella Mae smiled. “Reba is a gem!”

“So am I!” Verena’s voice boomed from the direction of the front door. She marched into the kitchen like a five-star general on parade and presented Ella Mae with a gift bag. “Ta-da!”

Ella Mae dug through layers of tissue to reveal a framed document bearing the town’s seal. “The business license! I thought we’d have to wait another week.”

“I have friends in high places!” Verena shouted boisterously. “And that’s not all! My darling husband, our most esteemed mayor, has arranged for a ribbon-cutting ceremony a week from Saturday. Sissy’s got a troupe of musicians lined up and I’ve called every journalist I know. Are you ready to be famous?”

Recalling the reporter waiting outside the police station earlier that day, Ella Mae sighed. “Yeah, as a murder suspect.”

“That’ll do!” Verena cried, undaunted. “All publicity is good publicity. Besides, August won’t let this ridiculous finger-pointing continue.” She paused and sent a fleeting glance at her sister. “Or do we need to get involved, Adelaide?”

“I don’t think so. Ella Mae will sort everything out. In fact, I bet she already has a plan, don’t you, dear?”

Surprised at her mother’s intuitiveness, Ella Mae picked up the list and showed it to her aunt. “I know who to investigate now, but I’m going to need Aunt Delia’s help.”

“Grab your dog and get in my car!” Verena ordered.
“You’ll melt quicker than an ice cream if you try to ride out to Dee’s on that bike of yours. I hope you plan on buying a car before the summer’s out. You need to conserve energy for all the enchanting fare you’ll be whipping up in the kitchen!”

“And for your food handler’s test,” her mother added solemnly. “Aren’t you taking it tomorrow?”

“I’m ready,” Ella Mae answered. “As long as Cyrus is set for the pie shop’s inspection, we should be able to open next Saturday.”

Verena clapped her hands, startling Chewy into wakefulness. She scooped up the terrier and planted a loud kiss on his nose. He licked her chin multiple times before wriggling free.

“Throw your bike in the trunk, Ella Mae!” Verena commanded. “I can’t dillydally this afternoon so you’ll have to pedal home. I’ve got a Junior League meeting followed by a Preservation Society supper. Oh, I hope they’re serving shrimp and grits again! Last time, I had two helpings followed by a tower of strawberry shortcake!” She chuckled merrily. “I don’t think there’s a woman alive who loves her food more than me!”

Inside Verena’s white Cadillac, Chewy perched on Ella Mae’s lap. With his head stuck out the half-open window and his hindquarters receiving the benefit of the Caddy’s efficient air-conditioning, he was a very happy dog. Flecks of drool peppered Verena’s passenger window but she didn’t seem to care.

“He’s such a darling!” she exclaimed. “I tell all my friends that my grandnephew here is smarter and more charming than all of their two-legged grandbabies!”

Ella Mae laughed. “Why didn’t you and Uncle Buddy ever have kids?”

A shadow crossed her aunt’s face. In a low voice, which sounded foreign coming from Verena, she said, “We wanted children, but something’s wrong with my plumbing. Buddy
was willing to adopt, but then you came along and filled up the empty space in my heart.”

Too moved to reply, Ella Mae squeezed her aunt’s arm and then leaned against the soft leather seat, her chin lifted toward the sunlight streaming through the pine branches overhead. She wanted to hold on to this moment, the warmth that spread through her chest, the feeling that came from being loved and cherished by her three aunts. Smiling, she rubbed Chewy’s back and thought about how to convince Dee to go along with her plan.

Verena turned onto the narrow lane leading to Delia’s house and studio and dropped her speed dramatically. “You can never tell when one of Dee’s pack will dart out from the bushes,” she said, peering into the dense greenery lining the road. “I don’t even know how many creatures she’s caring for these days. No wonder she has to charge a fortune for her sculptures!”

Stopping the Caddy in front of the tobacco-barn-turned-studio, Verena gave both Chewy and Ella Mae pecks on the cheek before driving off again. Ella Mae leaned her bike against Dee’s mailbox and braced herself for the entourage of mixed-breed dogs to welcome her.

Four of them trotted around the corner of the barn, their tails wagging even as they issued a few cautionary barks. Chewy immediately exchanged friendly sniffs with each and every one of them. Two cats, a black longhair and a shorthaired orange tabby, were stretched out in the protective shade provided by a pair of lawn chairs. They opened their eyes into thin slits, examined Ella Mae and the new canine with disinterest, and then went back to their naps.

Both the front and back door to Dee’s studio were shut up tight and Ella Mae knew that her aunt kept her beloved animals out of the barn because much of her work required her to use a blowtorch and band saw. Even now, as Ella Mae peeked into the picture window, she could see a shower of
red and gold sparks leaping into the air and ricocheting off the concrete floor. A Beethoven symphony tried to escape through the glass panes, but the window held the melancholy violins in check. Dee never worked without Beethoven and had often told Ella Mae that the composer was the love of her life.

As Ella Mae watched, Dee retracted the blue flame of the blowtorch and slipped off her face mask. Tendrils of wet hair clung to her forehead and a sheen of sweat covered her skin, but she didn’t seem to notice. Taking a step back, she scrutinized her sculpture with a critical eye and then withdrew a photograph of a Welsh sheepdog from the front pocket of her overalls. Kneeling before the metal version, which Ella Mae imagined was still warm from the lick of the blue flame, Dee put her right hand on the chest of the dog she’d created and held the photo of the flesh-and-blood version against her own heart with the other.

“What is she doing?” Ella Mae murmured, spellbound by the odd ritual taking place on the other side of the window.

Dee shut her eyes and began to move her lips. Suddenly, a shimmer of pearly light raced across the surface of the sheepdog’s metal fur, and for a split second, he glowed with the same blinding whiteness as the orb Ella Mae had seen the night her aunts and mother had dined with her at Le Bleu.

And then it winked out as if someone had thrown a switch. One moment it was there. The next, it was gone.