Lemon Pies and Little White Lies (4 page)

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Authors: Ellery Adams

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Magic - Georgia

BOOK: Lemon Pies and Little White Lies
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Chapter 2

Ten minutes later, Verena opened her front door, and called, “She’s here!” Stepping aside, she shooed Ella Mae into the foyer, and said, “They’re all in the sitting room.”

Ella Mae hurried through Verena’s large kitchen into the sitting room. Usually a bright, cheerful space filled with soft chairs, colorful art, and music, the room was now shadowy and quiet. The plantation shutters had been closed. Uncle Buddy’s vintage record player had been silenced. The television, normally hidden from sight inside a large cabinet, was on. Scenes flickered rapidly across its flat screen, casting an eerie blue-and-white glow on the faces of the women gathered before it.

Ella Mae’s mother and her other aunts, Dee and Sissy, turned to look at her. Their grim expressions were unnerving. Ella Mae saw something in their eyes she wasn’t used to seeing. Her aunts were afraid.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Her mother grimaced. “There’s a terrible storm off the
coast of Scotland. It’s gaining wind strength and speed by the hour and is expected to make landfall by tonight.”

Ella Mae was drawn to the image on the television screen. As she watched, a massive spiral of dense clouds rotated in slow motion over the North Sea. A man was speaking, but his voice was too muted for Ella Mae to understand him clearly. “Could you turn up the volume, please?”

Aunt Sissy, headmistress of the Havenwood School of the Arts, nodded and pressed a button on the remote control.

“. . . bearing northwest,” the meteorologist was saying. “This storm breaks all the rules, and is behaving like the winter storm of 1953. We’re expecting high wind speeds—one hundred and twenty miles per hour or more—and significant flooding. Evacuations are underway, especially in the north. Those in and around the Orkney Islands have been ordered to evacuate. There will be no place to hide when this storm makes landfall.” The man pivoted, and a map of the United Kingdom filled the screen. He lifted his hand, tracing the Scottish coastland north until he came to what Ella Mae had always thought of as the tip of the rabbit’s ears—the northernmost point of the landmass—and then circled a collection of islands off the coast with his index finger.

“Is this a live broadcast?” Ella Mae whispered.

Aunt Sissy shook her head. “We recorded it thirty minutes ago. That’s when our weather channel airs the European forecast. But this story is
so
big that it’s bound to be on every news station by this evening.”

“Since you’ve all listened to the report already, could someone please tell me why I had to leave work for this? I don’t mean to sound insensitive,” Ella Mae added quickly. “I feel for the people in the path of that monster—”

“That’s just it,” Aunt Dee said in her soft, gentle voice. “This thing is a monster.”

“It’s bound to destroy at least
three
ancient magical groves,” Aunt Sissy said. She tended to use dramatic pauses, emphasis, and gestures when she spoke. “Long ago, groves weren’t necessarily built on high ground. Our kind didn’t have to hide as completely as we do now.” Her eyes were filled with sorrow. “No ash tree, not even a magical one, can withstand the force of this wind.”

Ella Mae’s mother took the remote from her sister’s hand. “Losing groves is tragic enough, but there’s more to this story. The Scots have named this storm after a figure in their folklore. An evil figure.”

“Nuckelavee!” Verena cried. “A terrifying and gruesome creature that lived in the sea, only coming ashore to devour humans. According to legend, it had a huge head and a protruding mouth that hung open in a terrifying grin. The monster was skinless, so its yellow veins and slime-covered muscle were visible to the naked eye. And if that isn’t horrible enough, Nuckelavee’s poisonous breath could wither crops and kill livestock. It’s his destructive power and supernatural strength that influenced a Scottish paper to name this super storm after him.”

“In the old tales, all one had to do to escape this mythological creature was cross over a body of fresh water,” Aunt Dee said. “That won’t help the Scots tonight. This storm is a swirling mass of water and wind. It will sweep across rivers, causing them to overflow as it moves inland. As you heard, the experts are calling for massive flooding. The entire coastline of northern Scotland may be forever altered.”

Verena took an atlas off the coffee table and pointed at a map of Scotland. “The storm will sweep from east to west. The groves in its projected path are here, here, and here.” She tapped the map in three places. “Nuckelavee will rip the ash trees right out of the ground, leaving thousands of our kind without a safe haven.”

Now Ella Mae understood why her family was so upset about the news. Her mother took her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “There’s more.” Her mother pressed the play button on the remote. “They’re going to show a satellite photo of the storm. It’ll repeat over and over again, and then the meteorologist will point out the unusual shape of the storm’s eye. That’s why we’re all gathered here. And it’s also why we called you to join us. Because of the shape of that eye.”

Perplexed, Ella Mae focused on the screen as the map was replaced by a satellite image. Ella Mae didn’t understand all the meteorological jargon, but it was clear that Nuckelavee was massive. The camera view changed, zooming closer and closer to the center of the rotating clouds.

“And if this storm weren’t unusual enough, take a look at this eye,” the weatherman said, his voice filled with wonder. “In this image, the eye appears to take a familiar shape—one closely associated with today’s holiday.”

Ella Mae’s mother paused the program again. “Do you see it?”

Cocking her head slightly, Ella Mae approached the television. She kept her gaze fixed on the center of the screen, frowning in concentration.

And then, she saw it.

“It can’t be,” she whispered. She stretched out her hand, silently asking for the remote, and then hit the rewind and play buttons several times, causing the storm to rotate from right to left with agonizing slowness. “It’s a clover,” she said in astonishment. “The eye is shaped like a four-leaf clover. And not just any clover either.” She raised her palm and turned it toward her family, inviting them to compare the puckered skin near her wrist to the frozen image on the television screen. The storm’s eye was a perfect match to Ella Mae’s burn scar.

“The eye shifts by the end of this segment,” Aunt Dee
said. “When it reforms, it’s circular again. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it’s just a freak occurrence.”

There were no noises or murmurs of assent following this remark. None of them believed in coincidence.

Ella Mae crossed her arms over her chest, tucking her trembling hands out of sight. Icy dread chilled her blood, and every cell in her body trilled with the same wordless message:
Danger
.

“What does this mean?” Ella Mae gestured wildly at the screen. “Our kind can’t be responsible for this. Why would someone or a group of people deliberately destroy our groves—the source of our power?” She looked from her mother to her aunts. “No one is capable of creating a storm of this magnitude. Maybe a group could increase the intensity of a storm, but to manipulate it until the eye looks like a clover? That can’t be the result of magic.” She hesitated, thinking of all the earth-shattering discoveries she’d made over the past year or so. “Or can it? Is it possible?”

Her mother frowned. “We don’t know, Ella Mae. We have as many questions as you.”

“That’s why we called you!” Verena declared. “Nothing will stop this storm from its current course of destruction, but if a group of our kind is truly capable of manipulating the weather, these people pose a threat of catastrophic proportions.”

“We must discover exactly who they are and what they’re after. And
quickly
,” Aunt Sissy added. “You remember what happened when we all joined hands. Consider the havoc we created, and there were only five of us.”

Ella Mae thought back to the summer night when she, her mother, and her aunts had grasped hands. A fireball of light had formed in the center of their circle. It had been a swirling, gaseous sphere—like they’d taken a scoop out of the surface
of the sun. It had dangled in the air for half a heartbeat before shooting through the window in a burst of dazzling light and broken glass. “A meteor? A bomb? I’m not sure what we made, but judging from the state of the sunroom window and the way the lake steamed where it struck the surface of the water, it definitely had destructive powers.”

“You and Suzy need to see if this has happened before. Search through as much of our recorded history as you can,” Verena said.

Ella Mae’s mother nodded. “Not only do you have the use of all the materials at Partridge Hill, but Opal Gaynor is also offering access to the library at Rolling View. She’s never shared resources before, and I’m glad to see that she’s sticking to her vow to serve her community. I doubted your decision to make her an Elder, but you were right, Ella Mae. We need her.”

“I’ll call Suzy as soon as I finish watching this and set up a time to meet,” Ella Mae said, and sank into one of Verena’s club chairs to listen to the rest of the special report. Nuckelavee churned over the North Sea, beating the waves into a frenzy. The wind bent the treetops along the coastline until they looked like dancers bowing before an audience.

The next group of images showed scenes of people in line at hardware stores, putting sandbags around their homes, and loading possessions into their cars. The segment ended with footage of an old woman shooing her chickens inside a henhouse. The wind ruffled the birds’ feathers, and a galvanized bucket rolled across the muddy yard. The woman’s hair, which had been fastened in a bun, suddenly came loose and floated above her head like a dollop of whipped cream. Seeing this, Ella Mae was reminded of another woman. A local woman who’d once given her a recipe for banoffee pie.

“Fiona Drever is from the Orkneys,” she said, turning off
the television. “Her daughter still lives there. I should pay Fiona a visit. It must be terrible for her to watch this monstrous storm bear down on her childhood home. I think I’ll make her a pie before closing shop and head up the mountain to deliver it. Suzy won’t be able to help until she gets off work anyway.”

“That would be a nice thing to do.” Aunt Dee smiled in approval. “What will you put in Mrs. Drever’s pie?”

Ella Mae paused to consider the question. “Chocolate, pecans, and comfort. I’ll serve it warm with a cup of strong tea.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of tea, I need to get back to the pie shop. Reba and Jenny can serve the dessert pies, but they can’t bake cookies and take care of customers at the same time. I’ll let you know if Suzy and I discover anything useful.”

“Until then, all we can do is pray for our brothers and sisters in Scotland,” Aunt Sissy said, clasping her hands together. “May they all get out of Nuckelavee’s way in time.”

•   •   •

Verena drove Ella Mae to the pie shop in silence. It was only when she pulled up to the back door that she turned to her niece and said, “You seem different today. More clearheaded. I haven’t seen you like this since before Hugh left.”

“I found a way to put my feelings for him on hold,” Ella Mae said, opening the passenger door. “Thank goodness I did too. If that clover in the middle of the storm was meant as a threat, then no one in Havenwood is safe. Isn’t that why you’re all so frightened? Because of that clover-shaped eye? Because it matches the burn on my hand?”

Verena nodded, her mouth pinched with worry.

“I have no idea what the presence of that clover means, but I do know that I have to be sharp as a knife’s edge until I solve the mystery behind the storm.”

“Cha ghéill sinn gu bràch!”
Verena cried.

“Cha ghéill sinn gu bràch,”
Ella Mae echoed with slightly less gusto. Her mind had already turned to future tasks.

When she entered the kitchen, Jenny was loading a tray with servings of Leprechaun Pie. “What did you just say?”

“It’s a Gaelic war cry,” Ella Mae explained. “It means ‘We’ll never fall back.’ Reba and I have shouted it a few times before, always in moments of trial.”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. We’re not going to have that peaceful springtime I was hoping for.”

Ella Mae gave Jenny an encouraging smile. She didn’t want to discuss the storm with anyone other than Suzy yet. “Maybe we just need a bit more luck. Speaking of which, I don’t see any green on you today. Has anyone pinched you yet?”

Jenny glowered. “Yes, and once was enough, thank you very much! Mr. Ledbetter had half of my butt cheek between his fingers. I swear he’s been waiting to do that since I started working here.”

Despite the fact that Mr. Ledbetter had been way out of line, Ella Mae laughed. The man had pinched many a female bottom in Havenwood. Seeing as he was on the far side of eighty-five and legally blind, it was difficult to admonish him. “With all the squats you do, he probably couldn’t grab an ounce of fat.”

Looking pleased, Jenny said, “I won’t have buns of steel if I keep eating pie twice a day. Anyway, I don’t think old Mr. Ledbetter will pinch anyone ever again.”

Ella Mae, who’d been gathering ingredients for the chocolate pecan pie, froze. “He didn’t go after Reba, did he?”

Grinning, Jenny nodded. “She wrapped his fingers in duct tape and told him if he couldn’t learn to keep his hands to himself, she’d be delighted to apply that tape to other parts of his body.”

Both women were doubled over with laughter when Aiden Upton entered the kitchen through the rear door.

“Oh, I see how it is,” he muttered crossly. “I’m sent off on deliveries while you ladies live it up without me.”

Jenny walked behind her brother, jerked her thumb at his backside, and smiled at Ella Mae. “What do you think? Would Mr. Ledbetter like a piece of that? We could put Aiden in an apron and parade him next to Mr. Ledbetter’s table.”

Aiden waved his hands in protest. “No aprons! It’s bad enough that I have to drive a pink mail truck. I draw the line when it comes to peach-colored aprons. My reputation as a ladies’ man suffers enough doing this job, thank you very much.”

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