Breach of Crust: A Charmed Pie Shoppe Mystery (15 page)

“Of course.” Henry nodded amiably and poured her a cup of coffee.

Ella Mae pressed on. “Tell me. Were you in Havenwood during the Row for Dough event? Did you break into Perfectly Polished?”

“It’s hardly breaking in when you’re the owner,” Loralyn declared acerbically.

Though Ella Mae felt a rush of triumph for being correct, she kept her feelings in check. “I suppose you’d run out of money by then. Whatever clothes, cars, and jewelry you had to buy to create Lyn Croly’s persona had drained your resources. You needed to refill the well and you didn’t want to leave an electronic trail. You must have kept a wad of cash or loose gems in the salon safe for emergencies.”

“Aren’t you a clever baker? I’m sure your deductive powers
will prove very useful the next time you need to make a lemon meringue pie.” Loralyn set her cup down and folded her arms. “What’s your point?”

Ella Mae took a step toward Loralyn. “What’s
your
point? You’ve invested months of your life as well as a great deal of money ingratiating yourself to these women. Why? To get your hands on the golden apples. You wouldn’t make such major sacrifices and leave anything to chance. To ensure success, you’d have to eliminate the current president, Bea Burbank. After that, you’d have to get rid of any woman foolish enough to run against you. Luckily, there are only two candidates. Cora Edgeworth and Savannah McGovern. You’re almost there, Loralyn. One more woman and those apples will be yours.” She shrugged, hoping to bait Loralyn with her next line. “Though how you can be confident they’re in Havenwood is a mystery to me.”

“You wouldn’t know because you’re not a Camellia,” Loralyn snapped. Her eyes glittered with rage. “When a new president is elected, she is presented with the symbols of the office. They are purely ceremonial, and she is only allowed to handle them during her swearing in, which takes place immediately after the tallying of the ballots. Another Camellia safeguards the presidential symbols the rest of the time. It’s never the same woman twice, and no one knows her identity. Cora’s mother, Maisie, presented the apples to Bea and reclaimed them immediately following the ceremony. Maisie passed away years ago, and only her attorney knows which Camellia she bequeathed them to. That woman must keep that secret under penalty of expulsion. These stupid cows don’t have a clue that the apples have power, but they’re smart enough to realize that they’re valuable.”

Opal cocked her head. “Because they’re made of gold?”

Loralyn frowned. “It’s more than that. The apples serve
as a reminder of Atalanta’s folly. Each newly elected president is supposed to hold them up and give a speech about using a woman’s power to bring about positive changes in the world. That was the mission of the club’s founder or some altruistic crap like that.”

“If I might interject.” Henry cleared his throat. Without waiting for permission, he picked up a book from a side table and opened to a color illustration of a woman in a Grecian gown. Her long hair curled in dark ringlets and she wore a quiver filled with arrows on one shoulder. She stood on a mountain overlooking a city and was studying it with a proprietorial air. “Atalanta may have been distracted by the enchanted apples and thereby tricked into marriage, but she never again lost focus of her goals following that legendary race. In fact, she became a powerful landowner and respected leader long after her father and husband faded into obscurity.”

“How marvelous for her,” Loralyn mumbled. “And while I love mythology as much as the next person, I’m afraid I have far too much to do—”

“Allow me to finish, please.” Henry didn’t raise his voice, but Loralyn responded to his authoritative demeanor and fell silent. Tapping on the illustration, he brought the book closer to Loralyn. “You can be like this woman. Not the young girl sidetracked by shiny golden apples, but the woman who ruled for decades. An independent woman admired by her people. A woman who was known as the Lioness due to her wisdom and fortitude.”

Ella Mae could tell by the way Loralyn leaned forward that she was listening closely.

Henry pressed his advantage. “You could run Gaynor Farms the same way Atalanta managed her holdings. The employees would depend on you to lead them into the future. With that kind of power, you could effect all sorts of change. You could
be a lioness of the modern era. You don’t need the apples. Learn from this woman’s mistake. Your mother is offering you the chance to become powerful, respected, and immortal in name without enchantment. And without the costs that come with possessing an object of power. Seize this opportunity, Ms. Gaynor. I implore you. Take the path of the wiser woman, not the path of the foolish girl.”

Loralyn reached for the book and Henry gingerly set it on her lap. Raising the illustration close to her face, Loralyn studied Atalanta with such intensity that no one dared speak.

After a full minute of scrutiny, she began to smile. It was a small, crooked smile. A cruel smile. It made Ella Mae’s heart sink, for she knew they’d failed to convince Loralyn to forget her quest. She was utterly fixated on her obsession and no one could lure her away from it.

“Immortal in name is not enough,” she said, slamming the book shut. “But I have to thank you, uh . . .”

“Professor Henry Matthews of Oxford.”

Loralyn got to her feet and handed the book back to Henry. “Thank you, Professor Matthews of Oxford, for confirming my theory that the apples are worthy of any sacrifice.” With an aura of genuine happiness, she moved to stand in front of her mother. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you’d hoped, but I have bigger plans than Gaynor Farms. I won’t apologize. I’ve waited a long time for the chance to show the world what I’m made of.” She hesitated for a moment, and then, with lightning quickness, she kissed her mother’s cheek. “Good-bye, Mama.”

Loralyn had turned for the door, her mind already fixed on people and things outside the walls of the cabin, when Ella Mae raced forward to block her path.

“Tell me the truth,” Ella Mae demanded. “Did you kill Bea?”

“No.”

“What about Cora?”

Loralyn stepped closer. “Not me either. I don’t care that she’s dead, but I didn’t kill her.” She poked Ella Mae in the shoulder. Just once, but the touch conveyed a lifetime’s worth of hatred. “I warned you to stay out of my affairs, pie girl. You didn’t listen, and because of that, you and yours will pay the price.”

“Your mother is dying!” Ella Mae cried. “The apples might heal her. Are you so heartless that you won’t at least find out if their power could save her life?”

“It’s better this way,” Loralyn said in a near whisper. “You see, I don’t want to be a lioness. I want to be a phoenix. I want to rise from the flames with my past totally forgotten. You’re a part of the past too. You belong in the fire with all the rest.”

And with that, Loralyn moved around Ella Mae, unfastened the dead bolt, and opened the door. Ella Mae glanced toward the bedroom. Reba stood in the threshold next to Ruiping. Both women were tensed and ready to spring.

“She wasn’t lying,” Ruiping said. “She didn’t kill those women.”

By the time Ella Mae turned her attention back to the front door, Loralyn was gone.

“She didn’t hurt anyone, but she thinks she knows who the murderer is,” Ruiping continued. “It came to her when she was looking at the book.”

Reba strode toward the front door. “Should I run her down?”

“She won’t tell you anything,” Opal said wearily. Sorrow had deepened the creases bracketing her mouth and heightened her pallor. She seemed to have aged several years in a matter of minutes. “Not even if you use force. She’s too close to her prize to fail now.”

Ella Mae had to agree. “Let her go, Reba. We don’t need
to rush back either. We won’t be teaching today.” She passed her hands over her face. “The killer has made it that much harder for me to investigate. What I don’t get is why the murderer wasn’t more careful. She’s practically invited the cops to descend on the resort. It’s almost as if she
wants
everyone to be stuck here.” She gestured at Henry’s book. “Henry? Can you open to that illustration again?”

“Certainly,” Henry said and hurried to comply.

Carrying the book to the window, Ella Mae studied the image under the direct light. She’d only caught a glimpse of Atalanta’s face earlier, but now, as she examined the classical features—the proud brow, sharp cheekbones, full lips, and lovely, intelligent brown eyes—she knew what Loralyn had seen. “Not what,” she whispered. “Who.”

Putting the book down on the coffee table in front of Opal, Ella Mae grabbed her handbag and pulled out her copy of the Camellia Club directory. She turned to the image of Margaret Woodward and laid it next to the illustration of Atalanta. The two faces were almost identical.

As Ella Mae’s mother, Henry, Reba, and Ruiping looked on, Ella Mae pointed from one image to another. “Margaret Woodward, the founder of the Camellia Club, must be a descendant of Atalanta. I believe she also possessed the golden apples. But that’s not what got Loralyn so excited.”

Flipping ahead in the directory, Ella Mae stopped at the page showing Cora Edgeworth and Meg Edgeworth-Ryan’s photographs. “What do you see?”

“Margaret Woodward and Meg Edgeworth-Ryan—they could be twins!” her mother exclaimed.

“Not twins,” Ella Mae said. “The same person.”

Reba pressed her fingers against her temples. “What? How’s that possible?”

“Because she has the apples, she doesn’t age. Margaret
and Meg are essentially the same name. They look exactly the same. Margaret
is
Meg.”

Adelaide put a hand over her heart. “I think you’re right.”

“Maisie is another form of Margaret,” Opal said weakly. “Didn’t Loralyn tell us the apples were presented to Bea by Cora’s mother, Maisie? Maisie could have been Margaret as well.”

“Hold on,” Henry said. “If the murderer is an immortal woman who has gained her immortality through the possession of an object of power, then why would she need to kill Bea and Cora?”

Ella Mae shook her head. “I have no idea.”

Opal reached out and grabbed Ella Mae’s arm. “Loralyn is going to get hurt. She can’t fight this woman. There’s only one way to defeat someone with this kind of power, and I know exactly how to do it. You must listen to me, Clover Queen. You were willing to sacrifice everything to save us all, and you succeeded. Now it’s my turn.”

Ella Mae headed back to the resort’s main building in a daze. She glanced from the clear summer sky to the shimmering lake and wondered how it was possible to be surrounded by such beauty when it felt like the entire world was unraveling, one thread at a time.

Seeing no other alternative, Ella Mae had reluctantly agreed to Opal’s plan even though every cell in her body rebelled against it. She wanted to bring down Margaret Woodward on her own. And as much as she wanted the woman who’d killed Bea and Cora to be punished for her crimes without putting anyone else in harm’s way, she knew she couldn’t overcome someone who was basically immortal.

Why
did
Margaret kill them?
Ella Mae thought angrily.
She already possesses an object of power, and she’s already lived several lifetimes.

“I know you’re simmerin’ like a teapot on the stove. That’s
a good thing,” Reba said. “Hold on to that steam. We’ve got enemies comin’ at us from all sides. This Margaret creature. Loralyn. The cops won’t be too happy with us either.”

Ella Mae stopped just outside the staff entrance. “You’re right. They’re going to wonder why we weren’t in the kitchen this morning. I have no choice but to tell Hardy that I arranged a meeting between Opal and Loralyn.”

“What if you blow Loralyn’s cover?” Reba asked, opening the door and waving Ella Mae inside the cool hallway.

“I could be saving her life. If she can’t run for president, she’s no longer a threat.”

Reba touched Ella Mae’s arm. “Except to you. She’ll try to claw your eyes out if you ruin her chance to get those apples.”

“I don’t think she’ll wait until tomorrow,” Ella Mae said as she glanced around the lobby. “Now that she knows Margaret Woodward has the apples, she’ll go after them at the first possible opportunity.”

Gesturing between the police officers guarding the front door, the main stairwell, and the elevator banks, Reba muttered, “It won’t be easy. I think the resort just became a five-star holdin’ cell.”

“Let’s find Hardy,” Ella Mae said. “The sooner we clear ourselves with him, the sooner we can focus on Margaret Woodward.”

“Can’t we just call her Meg?” Reba grumbled. “Even if it is a young-soundin’ name for that bag of bones.”

“Sure,” Ella Mae agreed absently.

Recognizing Officer Hutchins from the previous night, Ella Mae approached the policeman and asked to see Hardy.

“He’s been looking for you,” Hutchins scolded her before escorting Ella Mae and Reba to a small conference room. He knocked on the closed door and, without waiting for
permission, cracked the door and said, “I have Ms. LeFaye and her assistant.”

“Give me five minutes,” Ella Mae heard Hardy say.

Hutchins pointed at a row of plastic chairs pushed up against the wall. “You can wait there.”

Exactly five minutes later, a Camellia named Luanne was ushered out of the room by a female officer. Luanne paused in the doorway, put her hand on her hip, and glared back at Hardy. “Just how long do you intend to keep us prisoners in our rooms? I have a spa appointment at one, and I really need that massage!”

Ella Mae was stunned by the woman’s arrogance as well as her complete lack of concern over Cora’s death. Hardy, who’d probably heard similar remarks all morning and was tired of them, merely signaled to his officer to move Luanne along and called out, “Send them in, Hutchins.”

“I’m sorry if our absence caused confusion,” Ella Mae said as soon as she and Reba were seated. Hutchins stood by the door with his arms crossed over his chest and arranged his face into a mask of disapproval.

Hardy nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t reply to Ella Mae. Instead, he pressed a button on the recording device in the center of the table and noted the date, the time, and the names of those present.

He then looked at Ella Mae and asked, “Did you kill Cora Edgeworth?”

“What? No!” she spluttered.

Hardy repeated the question to Reba, who calmly replied in the negative.

Hardy’s gaze returned to Ella Mae. “What time did you arrive at Lake Havenwood Resort this morning?”

Ella Mae answered him.

“And what did you do upon entering the premises?”

Omitting the detail about going to the kitchen to check on Reba’s weapons and discovering Cora’s body, Ella Mae explained her scheme to trick Loralyn into appearing at the designated woodland cabin.

“For what purpose?” Hardy demanded.

Ella Mae hesitated. She didn’t think Opal would be strong enough to execute her plan after enduring a taxing interrogation, but if Hardy caught Ella Mae in a lie, she would no longer be free to move around the resort.

“Ms. LeFaye?” he prompted impatiently.

“I don’t like discussing another person’s medical issues, but I can see there’s no avoiding it,” Ella Mae said. “Opal Gaynor has terminal cancer. She and her daughter, Loralyn, have been estranged since last spring. It’s Opal’s dying wish to reconcile with Loralyn before she . . . passes. Opal asked me to find Loralyn and I did. Purely by accident. I bumped into her while I was visiting the town of Sweet Briar. At the time, Loralyn made it clear that she didn’t want to talk to me, so I was forced to wait until the Camellias came to Havenwood to get Loralyn and her mother together. I lured Loralyn out early this morning by pretending that she was engaging in a Camellia Club ritual. It sounds very underhanded, I know, but I only did it to help a dying woman reunite with her daughter.”

Hardy frowned as he took this all in. He then picked up his pen and started reading a list of names.

“You won’t find Loralyn Gaynor’s name on that list,” Ella Mae said.

“You need to look for Lyn Croly,” Reba added. “Loralyn’s pretendin’ to be somebody else with the Camellias.”

Hardy circled the name. “Why?”

Ella Mae gave an innocent shrug. “If I had to guess, I’d say that she wants to start over again. Her father, who she
once idolized, is in prison, and she had a major falling-out with her mother last spring. Loralyn responded to her familial troubles by moving to a new town and joining this club under a false name.”

“Though she
did
return to Havenwood in July to grab cash out of the safe in her nail salon,” Reba said. “Set off her own alarm and didn’t give a hoot. She must have figured no one would hear the noise with the rowboat race goin’ on. I suppose she forgot to pack her salon keys when she left town in a huff last spring.”

Now it was Hardy’s turn to be stunned. “Ms. Gaynor was responsible for the break-in? When did she tell you this?”

“About an hour ago,” Reba said placidly. “Ella Mae and I were in the cabin with Opal the whole time she and Loralyn talked. We wanted to be on hand in case she started feelin’ sick. I stayed in the bedroom to give mom and daughter their privacy, but I could hear every word. I have ears like a bat.” She touched her fingertips to her lobes.

Hardy jotted a note on a legal pad. “Were you hiding in the bedroom as well, Ms. LeFaye?”

“No. I was there as mediator,” Ella Mae said. “And to be honest, I had an ulterior motive.”

Hardy gave her an appraising look. “Which was?”

“To find out what Loralyn could tell me about Bea Burbank.” Raising her hands in a defensive gesture, Ella Mae quickly continued. “I know I wasn’t supposed to conduct an independent investigation, but I couldn’t waste this opportunity. As it turns out, Loralyn knew her
very
well. In fact, she became Bea’s surrogate. In Camellia Club terms, Loralyn effectively
replaced
Liz as Bea’s daughter, and immediately after Bea’s death, Loralyn announced that she was joining the race for club president.”

Hardy and Hutchins exchanged befuddled glances.

“I find it difficult to believe that two women have been murdered over this position,” Hardy said. “However, the facts belie my doubt. Mrs. Edgeworth was also a candidate. I learned that from her daughter.”

“Poor Meg!” Ella Mae exclaimed with mock concern. “How is she holding up?”

Hardy looked troubled. “She’s numb with grief, I’m afraid. She couldn’t supply much in the way of information other than to tell us that the chocolate in the fountain, which was a blend of peanuts and milk chocolate, would have certainly sent her mother into anaphylactic shock had she swallowed a single spoonful.”

“Cora obviously trusted the person who offered her that spoonful,” Reba said. “And that person must have come up with a mighty compellin’ reason for gettin’ Cora out of bed so early. Doesn’t this joint have cameras?”

“It does, but only in certain areas.” Hardy drummed his fingers on his pad. “Were you aware of Mrs. Edgeworth’s allergy, Ms. LeFaye?”

“Yes,” Ella Mae said. “All the chefs were notified beforehand. In fact, Caroline James and I were discussing that very subject last night. When Reba and I saw Caroline setting up the fountains, she’d yet to do a test run using the milk chocolate because she wanted to check the ingredient list on the Internet first. The words on the bag of chocolate melting wafers were smeared, and she didn’t want to take any chances, considering the seriousness of Cora’s allergy.” Ella Mae shook her head. “Caroline must be so upset. I hope she doesn’t blame herself.”

Reba narrowed her eyes at Hardy. “
You
don’t suspect her, do you?”

Hardy returned Reba’s stare. “As of this point, no one is above suspicion.” When Reba grunted in disgust, he reluctantly added, “Ms. James doesn’t strike me as a killer. Neither she nor her assistants appear to have a motive. The same goes for Ms. Jordan and her assistants. This crime is personal. Based on the scratches on the victim’s neck, the ME believes Mrs. Edgeworth ingested the peanut-tainted chocolate. The moment she did so, her lips, tongue, and throat began to swell. When she could no longer breathe, she must have panicked and clawed at her own neck. Once she lost consciousness and fell to the floor, her assailant positioned her, facedown, in the bowl of the fountain.”

“How terrible. And cruel.” Ella Mae shuddered. She hadn’t seen the marks on Cora’s neck because her skin had been covered in chocolate, but she remembered Cora’s swollen lips and her bloated, protruding tongue.

“Is there anything else you can tell us that might aid in our investigation?” Hardy asked.

Knowing the longer Loralyn was tied up with the police, the safer she’d be, Ella Mae nodded solemnly. “I don’t want to implicate anyone, but considering what’s happened, I can’t leave without repeating what Loralyn told me last night. I thought it was said in the heat of the moment because Loralyn
can
be dramatic. But now . . .”

“Go on,” Hardy prompted.

“She made a threat. It wasn’t directed at Cora, but toward the other candidate, Savannah McGovern,” Ella Mae explained. “Loralyn said, and this is a direct quote, ‘If she knows what’s good for her health, she’ll withdraw her candidacy. If not, she could be the next bloated body you pull out of the lake.’”

From his position near the door, Hutchins shifted
impatiently. He looked more than ready to haul Loralyn into the conference room for a nice tête-à-tête with Officer Hardy.

“Thank you, Ms. LeFaye.” Hardy took down another note and spoke into the recording device, indicating the time before he hit the stop button.

Ella Mae hesitated at the threshold. “May I see Meg? I could bring her some hot tea or a little soup. She shouldn’t be alone right now. She should have company. Maybe someone who isn’t a Camellia.”

Hardy briefly mulled this over. “One of my officers is with her, but I don’t mind your checking in on her. I’ll let Officer Parks know you’ve been cleared to enter Ms. Edgeworth-Ryan’s room.”

“Thank you,” Ella Mae said.

Out in the lobby, Reba breathed a deep sigh of relief. “That went as well as it could. Loralyn will be very busy with the men in blue for the next hour or so, and I expect Hardy will put a few extra officers outside Savannah’s door too.”

“
And
he’s given us permission to visit Meg.”

Reba scowled. “Yeah. Poor, sweet, grief-stricken Meg. Let’s bring her some chicken broth laced with arsenic. Then, when she busts out the apples to heal herself, we can grab them.”

“As appealing as that sounds, we have to prove that Meg and Margaret are the same person, and that she’s responsible for murdering Bea and Cora, before we can start poisoning her food,” Ella Mae said. “After all, I have no idea what would motivate a woman who already owns an object of power to commit murder in the first place.”

“Give her cream of mushroom, then,” Reba said with a grimace. She’d never cared for mushrooms.

In the kitchen, they saw that Cora’s body had been removed, as had the largest of the chocolate fountains. Two police
officers were busy cataloging the items in the kitchen. Maxine and Caroline each stood behind their stations as a police officer examined every one of their pots, pans, utensils, and dry goods.

Ella Mae threw Reba an anxious look. Once the cops had finished with the chefs’ belongings, they’d catalog the supplies on the shelves next. And the moment they opened Reba’s box of weapons, Ella Mae and Reba would be in a heap of trouble. Unless they could come up with a distraction—something to draw the officers away from that side of the kitchen long enough for Reba to relocate the box.

Just then, Caroline looked up and exclaimed, “Oh, Ella Mae! Isn’t this awful?”

Maxine put an arm around Caroline’s shoulders as she began to weep. Ella Mae stepped forward, intending to provide Caroline with whatever comfort she could, when one of the cops blocked her path with his meaty arm.

“Are you the pie chef?” he asked. When Ella Mae introduced herself and Reba, the officer pointed at her station. “Please stand behind the counter until we’re done here.”

Ella Mae read the officer’s nametag. “Listen, Officer Tippit, I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to investigate the walk-in yet, but I could have sworn I saw a bag of chocolate melting wafers mixed in with my stuff. I didn’t think anything of it yesterday, but considering what happened to Mrs. Edgeworth, it might be relevant. Maybe it contained peanuts. Should I show it to you?”

This was a complete fabrication, but Officer Tippit took the bait and followed her to the other end of the kitchen. Ella Mae risked a backward glance and was pleased when Reba responded with a slight nod.