Breach of Crust: A Charmed Pie Shoppe Mystery (3 page)

“I told you that mentioning kids will fill up the can faster than talking about crusty old men like me,” the vet grumbled.

Seeing Ella Mae, Hugh gave her a conspiratorial wink.
“I bet this lady is different. I bet she has a thing for guys in uniform.”

Though Ella Mae wasn’t in a lighthearted mood, she couldn’t disappoint the aged veteran. After all, he’d risked his life to defend her freedom. The least she could do was smile at him and show her gratitude.

“Would you like a poppy, miss?” he asked.

“I would, sir,” she said, stepping up to his wheelchair. “However, this shirt doesn’t have any buttonholes. Would you mind putting one in my hair?”

The old man was delighted to oblige. “Such pretty hair too. Smells like vanilla and oranges.”

Ella Mae caught his hand and held it. Looking into his eyes, she thanked him for his service.

Grinning, Hugh rattled his can. “You can assist veterans like my friend here to receive rehabilitation services and other necessary programs.”

“It would be my honor.” Ella Mae slid a twenty into the can. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she jerked her head in the direction of the community center entrance. “Can we talk inside?”

“I’m going to grab some water for us, Bert. Be back in five,” Hugh said and put the donation can inside Bert’s basket.

Bert arched his bushy brows. “If she was my girl, I wouldn’t come back at all.”

Laughing, Hugh accompanied Ella Mae into the building.

“I keep thinking about last night.” Hugh took Ella Mae’s hand. “About all of yesterday, in fact. Poor Bert. He must be wondering how he got stuck with the fireman with half a brain.”

As they walked, Hugh and Ella Mae waved at friends and neighbors. It was only after Hugh purchased the bottled water that Ella Mae led him to an alcove near the restrooms and showed him her bandaged palms.

“What happened?” he asked, his blue eyes darkening in concern.

Ella Mae told him as succinctly as possible.

When she was done, Hugh leaned against the wall and exhaled. “Maybe you didn’t see her during the festivities because she was out on a boat.”

“How would she have fallen overboard? The water was totally calm. And why would she have gone out alone?” Ella Mae argued. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Hugh put his arms around her. “It was an accident, Ella Mae. It must have been. She didn’t know anyone in Havenwood, right?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“Then there’s no reason to believe someone meant her harm,” Hugh said reasonably. “I’m sorry that she died and I’m even more sorry that you had to find her.” He stroked Ella Mae’s hair. “I wish I’d been with you. I want to be with you always.”

Ella Mae closed her eyes. She was comforted by Hugh’s touch. By the sound of his voice and the familiar way their bodies fit together. “You should get back to Bert,” she said.

“I know I should, but I want to stay here a little longer.” Hugh kissed her lightly on the lips. “Part of me feels like I never have enough time with you. I don’t mean that in a bad way either. What I mean is that what we have is so great that I can’t get enough of it.”

“At least we had yesterday to ourselves. It was magical,” Ella Mae said. She nestled against Hugh one more time. She listened to his heartbeat and ran her fingers over his sun-warmed shirt. Finally, she stepped away from him. Reluctantly, the couple returned to the main hallway.

Outside, Bert was busy speaking with two Gulf War veterans, so Ella Mae gave Hugh’s hand a final squeeze and slipped away.

*   *   *

On the way back to her truck, Ella Mae walked by The Charmed Pie Shoppe. Though her business had been open for a couple years now, the sight of the butter-yellow clapboard cottage with its wide front porch and raspberry-pink front door never failed to make her heart swell with pride.

A blue minivan was parked at the end of the shop’s flagstone path. The vehicle was not unusual, but the glittery camellia decal on the rear windshield got Ella Mae’s attention. Hustling up the path and into the patio garden, she found a woman seated at one of the café tables.

Ella Mae couldn’t see her face because the woman’s head was buried in her arms. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

“Ma’am?” Ella Mae said softly, not wanting to startle her. She suspected she’d stumbled upon Bea’s daughter. “Mrs. Fisher?”

The woman raised her head and swiped at the mascara tracks on her cheeks. “Yes. That’s me.” She ran a hand through her hair, which was an unkempt mass of mouse-brown curls. “Are you the pie chef?”

“I am.” Ella Mae gestured toward the building. “Can I get you something from inside? A glass of water?”

“No, thanks.” She sniffled. “I just wanted to see the garden. Mama mentioned it because she knows how much I love gardening. It was one of our few safe subjects.” She fell silent for a moment before continuing. “This patio has such a wonderful blend of blooms and herbs. I like how the purple basil is mixed with the black-eyed Susans, and the lavender and rosemary are in the same bed with the wild geraniums. Do you use all these herbs in your food?”

Ella Mae sat on the chair across from Mrs. Fisher. “I do. And what we don’t grow here comes from my mother’s herb
garden. She also has a large greenhouse, so we serve fresh greens throughout the year.”

Mrs. Fisher’s tears began flowing again. “It sounds like you and your mom are close. You’re so lucky.”

“We are now, but that wasn’t always the case,” Ella Mae said. “And I’m sure your mother loved you.”

Bea’s daughter let loose a dry, humorless laugh. “I was born Elizabeth Grace Burbank, the only child of Christopher and Beatrice Burbank. I was
supposed
to be tall, slim, blond, and accomplished. Above all else, I was s
upposed
to be a Camellia. Instead, I turned out to be short, plump, and great at only one thing: motherhood. I’m a good wife too, but I’m most proud of the mom I’ve become. I never aspired to be a Camellia. What I dreamed of was raising a big, loud, chaotic, happy family.” She laughed again, but this time, it was genuine. “And that’s exactly what I did.”

Smiling, Ella Mae extended her hand. “Well, Elizabeth of the big, happy family, I’m Ella Mae.”

“It’s just Liz.” The other woman managed a small smile. “I’m sorry to show up unannounced. I didn’t want to break down at the police station. Mama would have been pleased by my composure. I was able to identify her without crying. I even made it through the interview. But when they gave me her things . . .” Her voice wavered and she stopped.

“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been,” Ella Mae said gently. “I wish someone had come to Havenwood with you.”

“Brady is with the boys. All three of them are Scouts and they’re volunteering today. I didn’t want them to have to stay at home with a sitter because of this. I thought I could handle it. Brady warned me that it would be awful.” Liz pulled a wad of tissues from her handbag and a bunch of other detritus fell
onto the ground, including gum, hand sanitizer, toy soldiers, a yo-yo, and a Tide bleach pen.

Liz scrambled to retrieve the items. “I buy these bleach pens by the dozen,” she said, showing Ella Mae the large coffee stain on her blouse.

It was hard to believe that this disheveled person with the wild hair, the mascara-streaked cheeks, and the stained shirt was Bea’s daughter, but Ella Mae liked her just as much as she’d liked Bea.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Ella Mae asked. “I have a great recipe for cheeseburger pie. I bet your sons would love it. When I’m upset, being in the kitchen helps. Talking things over with another woman helps too. What do you say?”

Liz nodded gratefully. “That sounds really nice.”

Ella Mae led Liz into the pie shop. She turned on the lights in the kitchen and tuned the radio to an easy listening station. After giving Liz a peach The Charmed Pie Shoppe apron, she set the ovens to the correct temperature and retrieved two balls of pie dough from the refrigerator. As she and Liz rolled out the dough on the flour-dusted worktable, Liz told her what it was like to grow up in Bea’s shadow.

“She was top of her class at Emory University. She spoke three languages, was a talented watercolor painter, and played competitive chess, tennis, and golf. She was a skilled pianist and could ride a horse like she was part centaur, but do you know what she
couldn’t
do?” Liz held up her rolling pin as though it were a question mark.

Ella Mae shrugged. She wanted Liz to get a few things off her chest, but she didn’t want to encourage an hour-long rant about how tough it was to be Beatrice Burbank’s daughter.

“She couldn’t swim,” Liz said sorrowfully. “Isn’t that crazy? She grew up in Georgia, for heaven’s sake. We have
some of the hottest, stickiest summers known to man, but Mama never learned to swim. She was from a small town near the Alabama border, and her family was poor. She never saw the ocean until she married my daddy. She won a scholarship to Emory and that’s where she met Daddy, but none of the Camellias know that. Mama always hid the truth about her roots. She was so ashamed of her past that her parents were never allowed to visit.”

“That’s awful,” Ella Mae said, liking Bea a little less.

“She couldn’t take the risk of losing her invitation to join the Camellias. To become a member without a legacy status is really difficult. You either have to donate a ton of money, be famous, or have
something
the club wants. An
it
factor.”

Ella Mae transferred her pie dough to a dish. She then chopped two yellow onions and swept them into a frying pan to await sautéing. “What did your mother have?”

“She had money. My daddy came from a
very
wealthy family. They were rich
and
had an old Southern lineage. Not long after Mama was invited to join, she became the club’s youngest president. She ran the Camellias like a five-star general. The club never raised as much money or received so much attention from the media as when Mama was at the helm.” Liz sighed. “If only she’d invested that much time and devotion in getting to know her grandsons.”

“That is a shame,” Ella Mae agreed as they moved to the stove to sauté the onions and brown the ground beef. Hoping to steer the subject away from Bea, she asked Liz, “What will happen to the club now? Will they cancel the annual retreat?”

Liz shook her head. “No, no. After an appropriate period of mourning, they’ll elect a new president. I’m sure the woman who took my place in the club—my surrogate, so to speak—will be in the running. My mother finally got the daughter she wanted in that one.” She frowned deeply. “The
campaigning will be fierce and furious. Women would kill to be named president of the Camellia Club.”

Ella Mae shot Liz a dubious look. “You’re kidding, right?”

But Liz wasn’t smiling. “No,” she said, her gaze fixed on the browning meat. “I’m deadly serious.”

While the pies were baking, Ella Mae and Liz took glasses of mint iced tea out to the patio garden.

Surrounded by blooms and the industrious buzz of honeybees, Liz seemed to relax a little. As the two women chatted, Ella Mae learned that Liz’s husband, Brady, was a chemist. Liz also told her how she and Brady left Sweet Briar right after they were married.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of that place,” Liz said. “Brady and I aren’t high-society types. We live in a suburb outside Atlanta. I work part-time for a florist who’s also my best friend. Our family hangs out at soccer and baseball games, movie theaters, and parks. We have a rabbit, a turtle, and a goldfish named Cheeto.”

“So why the camellia decal?” Ella Mae asked. “I would have expected a stick figure family.”

Liz chewed her lip. “I’m not supposed to display that decal
because I’m not a club member, so I guess it’s an act of rebellion. Totally juvenile, I know. And now, with my mother’s passing . . .” She breathed deeply through her nose and then exhaled slowly through her mouth before continuing, “I stole a bunch of those stupid stickers before driving off into the sunset with my new husband. It was a childish thing to do, but I was angry because Mama didn’t care that I was leaving. As long as she had the Camellia Club, she had what mattered most, so I violated the rules by slapping that flower on every car I owned. I even put them on our trashcans.”

Ella Mae suppressed a smile. “Did your mother ever notice?”

“If she did, she never let on,” Liz said. “She wouldn’t give me the satisfaction. Besides, there was no risk of another club member seeing my car because I never returned to Sweet Briar. Mama and Daddy visited us, but we weren’t invited to their home.”

Hearing the pain in her voice, Ella Mae gave Liz’s hand a squeeze. “I think you should scrape off that decal. It might help you say good-bye. Not just to your mother, but to some of your bad memories too.”

Though Liz’s eyes grew moist, she nodded in agreement.

After checking the oven timer to make sure the pies wouldn’t burn, Ella Mae retrieved a sharp knife and a bottle of glass cleaner from the kitchen and met Liz by her blue minivan.

It didn’t take long to remove the sparkly flower. When it was gone, Liz sprayed the entire rear window.

“I bet your kids would love to vote on which decals best represent your family,” Ella Mae said.

Liz smiled broadly. “I don’t know if anyone makes a sticker that combines three different sports,
Star Wars
, Boy Scouts, and
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
, but you’re right.
My boys would get a kick out of it. By the time they’re done, the entire window will be covered.”

Pleased to see that Liz’s mood had improved, Ella Mae led her back into the kitchen. They removed the pies from the oven and placed them on cooling racks. While Liz assembled two take-out boxes, Ella Mae wrote down the recipe for her Charmed Chocolate Mud Pie, a favorite among the children of Havenwood.

Finally, it was time for Liz to be on her way. She hugged Ella Mae and thanked her for her kindness. When she was gone, Ella Mae cleaned up the kitchen and sat on the stool for a long moment before picking up the phone and dialing Officer Hardy’s number.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, “but Liz Fisher just spent over an hour with me and she told me some interesting things about Mrs. Burbank. I thought I’d better share them with you.”

“Go on,” Hardy said.

Feeling a tinge of guilt, Ella Mae repeated what Liz had said about the Camellia Club.

“She mentioned the club to me as well.” Hardy sounded unimpressed. “Bake sales and napkin folding and that sort of thing, right?”

“I think there’s more to it than that.” Remembering that Hardy was operating on very little sleep, Ella Mae tried to be patient. “Liz said in all seriousness that women would kill to be elected the next club president. What if someone helped Bea finish her term early?”

Hardy grunted. “Are you implying that one of these women committed murder just to be in charge of this club? And that this woman followed Mrs. Burbank to Havenwood because she needn’t worry about being recognized?”

“It’s possible,” Ella Mae said, refusing to back down. “It
couldn’t hurt to examine the resort’s guest list. Cross-reference the names and make sure none of them have been falsified. Because if someone from the Camellia Club
did
drive here from Sweet Briar, it’s because she possessed certain knowledge about Mrs. Burbank. This fact, which Bea would have probably tried to hide as she saw it as a shortcoming, would have been a
very
useful piece of information for a murderer to have. Especially since Bea was staying at a lakeside resort.”

“I’m not following you, Ms. LeFaye, and I’m very busy. Please get to the point,” Hardy said testily.

“Bea couldn’t swim,” Ella Mae said. “Liz told me that her mother never learned. What if someone from the Camellia Club followed Bea as she walked on the dock, or near the lake’s edge, and pushed her in when no one was around to witness the act?”

Hardy was silent for a moment. “We’re already checking the names on the hotel registry, but in light of this news, I’ll get my hands on a list of current club members as well.” He paused. “I wonder why Mrs. Fisher didn’t mention the fact that her mother couldn’t swim.”

“I think she was running on autopilot in the police station. She was just trying to survive and get out of there.”

“Did she say anything else?” Hardy asked. “Anything that might indicate her mother had issues with alcohol or other substances?”

Ella Mae recounted how Bea’s weaknesses seemed to center on her inability to sustain familial relationships. “It sounds like she was too much of a control freak to indulge beyond a glass of wine.”

“We’ll see about that when the lab results come in.” Hardy thanked Ella Mae for the call and hung up.

Ella Mae locked The Charmed Pie Shoppe and drove home. After playing with Chewy for a while, she searched
the gardens for her mother. She found her in the greenhouse, watering trays of seedlings.

“You’ve been gone for ages,” Adelaide said, turning off the water.

“I ended up spending time with Bea’s daughter.” Ella Mae thought about how Liz had never been close to her mother, and felt an overwhelming rush of affection not just for her mother, but also for Reba and her aunts. These women had all played a part in raising her, and whenever something unsettled her—and Bea’s death had certainly unsettled her—she wanted to be surrounded by her family.

Her mother must have sensed her need. “Should we have everyone over tonight? We can share a meal under the stars.”

Ella Mae smiled. “That sounds like the perfect way to help me move forward after this strange, sad day.”

*   *   *

“Didn’t I tell you?” Reba cried when Ella Mae told her about Bea’s death that evening. “My radar went off the second she stepped in the pie shop. And now she’s in a drawer in the morgue. Good thing you can’t get involved with her now.”

“Reba!” Aunt Dee scolded softly, pulling the sleeve of her filmy blue blouse over the puckered burn scar on her forearm.

“Why do you hide those from us?” Aunt Sissy asked her sister. “You’re our beautiful Delia. Those scars could
never
diminish the real you.”

Aunt Dee shrugged. “It’s become a habit. I see people staring at my arms when I’m at the bank or the grocery store, so I try to cover as much skin as I can. Not because I’m ashamed. I don’t care about the scars, but I don’t want to make other people feel uncomfortable.”

“Too bad for them!” Aunt Verena shouted. Verena, who didn’t possess an indoor voice, had a firm opinion on every
subject. “It’s not like you
chose
to be locked inside a burning barn.”

Dee opened her mouth to protest, but Adelaide changed the subject by asking Reba and her sisters what they wanted to drink with dinner.

“I’ll guzzle some vino while I’m fixin’ the pasta. After all, the recipe calls for wine.” Laughing, Reba disappeared into the kitchen.

The rest of the LeFaye women went outside to set the table.

Ella Mae spread a white cloth over the patio table and Sissy distributed plates and silverware. Verena put out wineglasses and then went back inside to retrieve the two bottles of white Bordeaux that Adelaide had purchased to accompany Reba’s spaghetti puttanesca. Adelaide snipped pink and purple clematis flowers from a nearby trellis and sprinkled them haphazardly over the surface of the table. Dee lit dozens of tea light candles and placed them on top of the flowers. The effect was magical.

After the table was set, the women rejoined Reba in the kitchen, where they prepared a large tossed salad and two loaves of garlic bread. The room filled with steam, noisy chatter, and laughter. It was the exact balm Ella Mae had been looking for to help her recover from an emotional day.

By the time Reba appeared on the patio carrying an enormous platter of pasta, the rest of the women were already seated. They applauded loudly and raised their glasses to toast the chef, but Reba waved off their compliments and told them to eat before the food grew cold.

“Did you know that, in Italian,
puttane
means the ‘lady of the night’?” Sissy asked in a stage whisper. “As in,
prostitute
?”

“My all-time favorite pasta recipe,” Reba said, piling a large helping onto her plate.

Ella Mae grinned. “It’s true. I remember reading an article
about the origin of the dish’s name. The strong aroma is meant to symbolize the perfume of the women who lured men into their houses of ill repute.”

“Here’s to saucy Napolese sirens!” Verena cried and raised her glass.

Adelaide shook her head in wonder. “I never thought we’d drink in honor of sirens. After all, the only siren we know is Loralyn Gaynor, and she’s still our enemy.”

Dee shot a nervous glance at Adelaide. “The LeFayes and the Gaynors have declared a truce. You’d better not call Loralyn an enemy in front of the Elders. Verena will overlook it because she’s your sister, but the others may not.”

A strained silence followed. Eventually, Adelaide dipped her chin in acquiescence and raised her glass. The women clinked rims and sipped their wine.

“Speaking of the Elders, I have a proposition for you!” Verena pointed her fork at Ella Mae.

Ella Mae experienced a strong sense of déjà vu. Suddenly, she was back in The Charmed Pie Shoppe with Beatrice Burbank, listening to Bea describe the Camellia Club’s annual retreat.

“Are you all right?” Dee asked softly.

Shaking her head as though to clear it, Ella Mae said, “Yes.” She took a large swallow of wine and looked at Aunt Verena. “What kind of proposition?”

“The Elders would like you to be an ambassador, for lack of a better word. There isn’t a person on earth who hasn’t heard that you found an object of power and sent it back to Scotland, where it was used to restore a ruined grove.”

“A magical person, you mean,” Ella Mae corrected.

Verena shrugged as though this detail were unimportant. “Now every community hopes to find such an object. Other descendants of Morgan le Fay and Guinevere are joining
forces and pooling their knowledge. Wonderful things are happening because of what you did, Ella Mae.”

“People are setting out on quests,” Sissy said, picking up her sister’s narrative. “It’s
very
exciting. We might be witnessing a new age of heroes and legends!” She threw her arms wide, nearly knocking over both wine bottles. Luckily, Sissy’s dining companions were used to her dramatic gestures and grabbed the fragile items within her reach. “First, King Arthur’s sword was brought to light. What will be discovered next? The Holy Grail? The philosopher’s stone? The Book of Thoth?”

“Hold it.” Ella Mae raised her hand to stop her aunt from continuing. “I’m not involved in that world anymore.”

Dee studied her carefully. “And I’d understand if you never wanted to be immersed in it again. Do you remember how you offered me the opportunity to be completely healed and I refused to accept?” At Ella Mae’s nod, Dee went on. “I wanted to keep my scars as a reminder of what I’d lost the night of the fire. Despite that loss, I’m doing all I can to move forward. I’m working again. I’m also involved with a kind, generous, and loving man. As are you. And yet what did all those people say the last time you left the grove? After your magic was gone?”

Ella Mae had to pause for a moment before she could answer. The memory was still so powerful that it brought tears to her eyes. “They said, ‘You will always be one of us.’”

“Which is precisely what the Elders are trying to convey!” Verena exclaimed. “They
want
you to be involved.”

“I’ll think about it, okay?” Ella Mae told her aunt. “Right now, I just want to enjoy this beautiful night and the present company.”

Adelaide refilled Ella Mae’s glass. “You didn’t relax much today. Maybe you should let Jenny open the pie shop tomorrow so you can sleep late.”

“I’m hoping that Jenny will be too tired from her double date to open for me,” Ella Mae said with a smile.

Reba wriggled her brows. “Well, if she can’t figure out what to do with that hunky carpenter, she can send him my way. I like a man with a tool belt.”

“You like
all
men,” Sissy pointed out.

“Not true,” Reba argued. “I never found Jarvis Gaynor attractive.”

At the mention of Loralyn’s father, who was safely locked up in a federal penitentiary, Ella Mae turned to her mother again. “How is Opal?”

Adelaide averted her gaze. “She hasn’t been the same since Loralyn left. It can’t be easy for her to have no idea where her daughter has gone.”

“I think there’s more to it than worry,” Dee added. “Opal has always been the picture of health, but when I last saw her, she was alarmingly thin. She might be ill.”

“That’s terrible,” Ella Mae said and marveled over the fact that everyone at the table was genuinely concerned for Opal’s welfare. Once, not too long ago, they might have been immune to her suffering. But those days were over. The descendants of Morgan le Fay and Queen Guinevere were no longer enemies. Adelaide LeFaye and Opal Gaynor were now neighbors in the truest sense of the word, and Ella Mae felt compelled to see how she was doing.