Breach of Crust: A Charmed Pie Shoppe Mystery (12 page)

“Unfortunately, our workspace is now contaminated, so our crusts wouldn’t be safe for someone like your husband,” Ella Mae explained. “Therefore, I’m going to demonstrate on a different workspace using totally clean equipment. By the time I’m done, the dough we just put in the refrigerator will be sufficiently chilled and you can roll out your piecrusts.”

The afternoon passed pleasantly. Once the Camellias had lined glass pie dishes with their dough and put them in the oven to blind bake, Ella Mae taught them how to blanch, skin, and slice fresh peaches. She then led them through the steps required to create a sumptuous salted caramel peach pie. The sliced peaches were tossed in a salted caramel sauce, poured into the pie dish, and then covered by a crumble layer. After the pie was fully baked—and Ella Mae had
premade several for the ladies to sample—it was cut into wedges. Each wedge was garnished with a drizzle of warm caramel.

“This is heaven on earth,” a woman named Ethel declared after her first taste.

“It most certainly is,” Julia agreed. “And we can include this recipe in our cookbook?”

Ella Mae said that she’d come up with a dozen new recipes for the Camellias to use in their centennial dessert cookbook. Her announcement was received with a burst of applause.

“Bea knew what she was doing when she hired you,” Meg Edgeworth told Ella Mae. “If the rest of our pies turn out like this, and the breads, cakes, and cupcakes are equally as good, we might want to invest more money in the production and marketing of this cookbook. What do you think, Mom?” She turned to her mother and the two women engaged in an excited bout of whispering.

Up to this point, Meg had been fairly quiet, so Ella Mae was glad to see her opening up a little. Meg wanted to know what other recipes Ella Mae had in mind and the two women spoke quietly for several minutes. Ella Mae was on the verge of asking Meg if she was related to the Camellia Club’s founder when the ringing of a bell interrupted her.

“Time’s up, ladies!” Savannah stood in the center of the kitchen, a hand bell raised in the air. “I hope you enjoyed your first session. Let’s hear it for our fantastic chefs!”

After another round of applause, the Camellias began exiting the kitchen.

“Lyn?” Ella Mae called out. “Could you spare a few minutes? I wanted to give you a quick one-on-one lesson so you’d be ready for our next class.”

Seeing as Loralyn had blatantly failed to make piecrust dough, Ella Mae thought her request was a reasonable one.
Apparently, Julia agreed. She gave Loralyn a gentle push. “Go ahead. I’ll tell the spa that you’ll be a bit late.”

Ella Mae didn’t wait for the rest of the ladies to clear the room before ordering Loralyn to cut a stick of cold butter into cubes. While Loralyn obeyed, glaring at Ella Mae from beneath her lashes, Ella Mae whispered, “The reason I came looking for you all those weeks ago—and was so surprised to find you in Sweet Briar—is that your mother is very sick.”

Loralyn’s knife stopped moving. She stared distrustfully at Ella Mae. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry to have to tell this way.” Ella Mae waved at the flour-dusted space. “I wanted to speak with you in Sweet Briar, but you didn’t give me the chance.”

“Just spit it out,” Loralyn hissed and plunged the knife back into the butter.

Ella Mae swallowed. “Your mother has cancer. It’s incurable. A Chinese healer is taking care of her right now. He has special abilities and has been able to build up her strength, but her time is running out. I’m sorry to have to say this so bluntly, but she’s dying.” Ella Mae reached out, gently took the butter from under Loralyn’s hands, and dumped it in the food processor.

“What’s next?” Loralyn wiped her fingers on her apron. Her voice was hollow and her eyes were glassy with shock. “How many times do I press pulse?”

“I’ll show you.” Ella Mae used the machine to cover up her words. Only Loralyn could hear what she was saying. “More than anything in this world, your mother wants to see you. She misses you and has so much to tell you. Before it’s too late.”

Ella Mae scooped out the dough, formed it into a ball, and guided Loralyn’s hands on the rolling pin. Working
together, they created an even disk. For a fragile moment, Ella Mae felt connected to her oldest enemy.

She’s a woman, just like me
, Ella Mae thought, feeling a powerful rush of sympathy and tenderness toward Loralyn.
A woman in need of a friend.

Suddenly, Loralyn shoved the rolling pin aside, plunged her nails through the circle of dough, and tore it apart. “I don’t miss her,” she seethed. “And
I
have
nothing
to say. I went out and found another mother. My father taught me that family members are replaceable. Wives. Daughters.” She shrugged. “I learned that mothers are replaceable too. We can all be traded in for better models.”

“Okay, so you met Bea and somehow convinced her to name you as her surrogate,” Ella Mae whispered urgently. “But she’s gone, so why not reunite with your
real
mom? She knows she’s made mistakes. She wants to make amends while she can.”

Loralyn cast an anxious glance around the kitchen. Seeing that all the Camellias had left, she relaxed. “I won’t need a mother once I’m president. Family will be totally irrelevant after that. In a way, my mother is doing me a favor by dying.” She untied her apron. “Thank her for me, would you?”

As she watched Loralyn wipe flour and wet dough off her hands, Ella Mae wanted to slap Loralyn’s cheek, but she kept the urge in check. Still, she couldn’t let her leave. Not just yet.

“What about your father? Is he irrelevant too? I thought you wanted to free him from prison?”

Loralyn’s face darkened. “He can rot there for the rest of his days for all I care. I gave him an opportunity to apologize and he blew it.” She squared her shoulders. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m an orphan. And if you care about
your
family, Ella Mae, you’ll stick to the retreat itinerary. Bake your pies
and stay out of my way.” She held up a single finger. “The only reason I’m warning you is because I believe that you did mean to tell me about my mother when you were in Sweet Briar. Not many people would have gone through the trouble of searching for me.” Something softened in Loralyn’s eyes. She suddenly seemed torn and Ella Mae took advantage of her hesitation.

Putting the lid back on the food processor, Ella Mae hit a random button. Over the whir of the blade, she said, “Maybe the apples could heal her. If they’re capable of granting immortality, perhaps they could be used for good. Their magic might save your mother’s life.”

Instantly, as though a switch had been thrown, Loralyn stiffened. Her anger and hostility returned, even more intense than before. Sneering, she leaned close to Ella Mae and said, “That would be such a waste of magic.”

Tossing her soiled apron on the counter, she walked out of the kitchen.

*   *   *

Later that night, after dinner and drinks, Maxine and Caroline announced that they both planned to retire to their rooms for the rest of the evening.

Ella Mae, on the other hand, had been invited to attend Bea’s celebration service, so she lingered on the back terrace with Reba.

“I can’t believe that Loralyn,” Reba groused for the third time. “Is Opal still comin’ first thing tomorrow? Because Loralyn is gonna break that woman’s heart.”

“Opal must have the chance to speak to her daughter in person. No matter how Loralyn responds, I need to get mother and daughter in the same room.”

Reba looked up at the lit windows of the resort. “Which room? I thought the Camellias booked the whole place.”

“They did. However, none of them are staying in the private bungalows in the woods. Like most resort guests, the Camellias wanted rooms with a lake view with convenient access to the amenities, so my mother made arrangements for Opal to wait inside one of the bungalows.”

“How will you lure Loralyn there?”

Ella Mae smiled. “I helped myself to some of Julia’s official Camellia Club stationery during cooking class. I saw a box sticking out of her tote bag and grabbed a few sheets when no one was looking. An early wake-up call from the front desk combined with a note from the Camellia Club secretary delivered to Loralyn’s guest room should do the trick.”

Reba tapped her temple. “Smart. If Loralyn’s vyin’ for the presidency, she’ll want Julia in her corner.”

“I hope so,” Ella Mae said and then fell silent as the Camellias slowly exited the resort and joined them on the terrace. Every one of them had changed from the cocktail dresses they’d been wearing at dinner into simple white dresses. They’d also exchanged their designer heels for nude ballet flats.

“What’s with the Mr. Rogers act?” Reba whispered.

At that moment, Annie Eudailey sidled up to them. “We’re going down to the dock. Mom has a box of flower-shaped paper lanterns waiting there. We’ll each light one and put it in the water as a tribute to Bea.”

“Am I supposed to say something?” Ella Mae asked anxiously.

“Only if you want to,” Annie replied. “Anyone who felt compelled to speak already did so at Bea’s funeral. Tonight’s ceremony is more of a symbolic act. We’re bidding farewell to one president and preparing to welcome a new one on
Sunday. The candidates will be the first to release the lanterns. There are three of them.”

“Why are you wearing white?”

Annie glanced at her dress and murmured, “It’s a long-standing tradition. From Greece.” She then turned away, obviously unwilling to expound on the matter.

Down at the dock, the Camellias arranged themselves in mother-daughter pairs along the edges and waited for the ceremony to begin. The officers stood at the far end with the lake glistening behind them. It was clear that Savannah and Cora were at odds. The two vice presidents glowered at each other until Julia and Mary Grace positioned themselves between the other two women in an attempt to maintain peace. As for Loralyn, she kept herself slightly apart, radiating an air of cool confidence.

“She acts like she’s above it all,” Reba whispered. “It makes her seem more like a leader and less like a sulky teenage girl. She’s showin’ up the other candidates. Makin’ herself look classy while they look like fools.”

It soon became obvious that the majority of the Camellias agreed with Reba, for when Savannah and Cora began bickering over who would light the first lantern, Loralyn responded by shaking her head in disapproval. The rest of the Camellias soon mimicked the movement.

Finally, Savannah grabbed a lantern and the lighter and intoned, “For Bea, who left us too soon. May her successor be willing to make similar sacrifices.” She knelt, placed her lantern in the water, and gave it a little shove.

Next, Cora lit her lantern and, in a voice far louder and more theatrical than Savannah’s, declared, “For Bea, who gave her all to the Camellias! May her successor be worthy of the apples.”

Julia elbowed Cora. “We have outsiders among us, remember?”

“As if they’d understand,” Cora answered coldly and pushed past Julia.

The ceremony continued, and the flower-shaped lanterns began to float farther and farther from the shore. The more they fanned out in the indigo water, the more the burning flowers looked like reflections of the stars above.

This would have been such a beautiful tribute without all of the tension
, Ella Mae thought.

When it was Ella Mae’s turn, she found that her hand was shaking. Memories flooded her mind. She recalled how much she’d liked Bea the day they’d met. But that memory was instantly replaced by the horror of seeing Bea’s moon-pale face bobbing just below the surface of this same lake. And then, Ella Mae remembered how angry she’d been after meeting Liz and learning how deeply Bea had wounded her own daughter. Everything she felt about Bea was a jumble. However, she knew one thing. Bea deserved a better ending than the one she’d received. She deserved more than a ruling of accidental death and a scattering of paper flowers that would be gone by morning.

Ella Mae took her lantern from Julia and turned to face the Camellias. “Right after I dragged Bea’s body out of this very lake, all I wanted was to find my mother and hold her tight,” Ella Mae said in a voice thick with emotion. She didn’t look at Loralyn, but she directed her words her way. “No mother is perfect. No daughter is either. But family is more precious than gold. More important than power. These relationships are irreplaceable. They’re what define us. They’re what our memories are made of.” Ella Mae paused. She wanted to hint at Bea’s murder. If ever there was a time to
shake up the complacent Camellias, it was now. And yet she felt severely vulnerable at the end of the dock. Reba was a force of nature, but she couldn’t take on fifty women at once.

Suddenly, there was a collective gasp at the other end of the dock, where the wood gave way to grass. Mothers and daughters parted, ashen-faced and whimpering, to reveal the figure of Liz Fisher.

Liz stood with her feet planted hip-width apart. Her eyes glittered with cold rage, and her arms were held out in front of her, as stiff and unbending as fence rails. In her hands, a black gun shone beneath the dock lights.

“I want to know who murdered my mother,” she demanded in a low, powerful voice that swept over the women like an icy wind. They stared at Liz in shock and terror, and retreated one step. Then two.

Liz pointed her gun at the woman closest to her, but she kept her gaze fixed on the officers near Ella Mae. “Give yourself up, murderess! Give yourself up right now or I’ll start shooting, and I won’t stop until I run out of bullets!” Without turning her head, she shuffled sideways and pressed her gun against the woman’s temple. “You came to say good-bye to my mother, but
I
came for justice. And I’m not leaving without it!”