Oven Baked Secrets (Eugeena Patterson Mysteries Book 2)

Oven Baked Secrets
A Eugeena Patterson Mystery, Book 2

Copyright © 2015 by Tyora Moody

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

Oven Baked Secrets
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Published by Tymm Publishing LLC
701 Gervais Street, Suite 150-185
Columbia, SC 29201
www.tymmpublishing.com

Cover Design: TywebbinCreations.com
Cover Illustration: CinnamonSaturday.com
Editing: TheJStandard.com

A subtle but distinct scent entered my nostrils as I walked through the front door of Hillcrest Manor Nursing Home.  I first noticed this peculiar whiff of air last week. The scent reminded me of mothballs and my past adventures in antique stores. It always struck me that the beautifully crafted furniture used to belong to someone who was gone and possibly even forgotten. It never failed. Immediately after that smell smacked my nose, my next thought was how people could be carefully tucked away in a place like this and in some cases, forgotten.

I’m not sure if the nursing home was trying some new air freshener or if I was becoming more sensitive about my approaching sixtieth birthday, more so than I thought I would.  I mean, what if I ended up in a place like this one day?

Not.  I, Eugeena Patterson, would put up a real good fight with somebody before they tucked me away in some nursing home.  I imagined I didn’t have anything to worry about anytime soon, but I still told my three adult children if they tried to put me in a home before I was ready, I’d whip ‘em first.

Even though it took me some time to adjust, I was now enjoying my retirement and my empty nest. I mean really, when I think over my life and all that I’ve been through, like the old folks say, “It’s a wonder how I got over.”

I headed to the front desk to check in as a visitor. I missed the busybody of our neighborhood. Not much went past those sharp blue eyes. At seventy years old, Louise Hopkins was hands down my oldest friend in the world. She was also officially my very first white best friend. Funny thing was we didn’t too much like each other at first, but God surprised us both. We have gossiped and shared some good laughs, not to exclude raising our children and burying our husbands. It’s amazing how time had flown in thirty years.

About five months ago, Louise’s nosiness led to an attack in her home. After a major bump on the head, she hadn’t been quite right, but bless her heart she was trying to get back to her old self. Then that son of hers got the bright idea he knew what was best.  Sugar Creek hasn’t been quite the same since the day I watched Louise’s only child, William, move his mother out of her home.

I didn’t agree with William’s timing at all because I do believe Louise would’ve been just fine after some time in rehab. Being retired, it wouldn’t have been much trouble at all for me to check on my dear friend from time to time.

I approached the front desk, putting on my best smile. “Hey honey, I’m here to see Louise Hopkins.”

A petite woman who I hadn’t seen before looked up at me and raised her eyebrow as though she didn’t believe me. “I didn’t know Mrs. Hopkins had visitors.” She started pecking on the keyboard and frowned at the monitor in front of her.

I tried to peer to the side to view the monitor a bit better.  She stopped typing and looked at me. “Excuse me, ma’am. One moment please.”

I stepped back as if I had been scolded.  I stared at the young woman wondering how she managed to get this job. Her blond hair was cut into a pixie style and rested flat against her head except for a small tuft in the front that appeared to have been colored pink at one time. Only the ends were pinkish. I read her name plate.

“Lexi, you must be new? I visit with Louise on Sundays after church. My name should be in your computer records.”

Lexi sighed, “I’m sorry. We just installed this new system last week and I just don’t see your name. I will need you to fill out some paperwork and I will print you a badge.”

“Okay.” I started to say something else, but remembered I was still wearing my church clothes. It probably wasn’t wise to be looking like a hypocrite on Sunday. Not that any day of the week was a good time to lay your Christian principles down. I knew a new director had been hired recently at the nursing home and security had become a priority. I guess that was a good thing.

The world was full of crazy folks!

Lexi handed me a clipboard. As I reached for it, I noticed the many fields on the form.
What is this? A criminal background screening?

A nurse came up behind the desk and grabbed the clipboard out of my hand.

Thank goodness.
The cavalry had arrived. Patricia Brown known as Pat to me was a member of my church, Missionary Baptist. I knew her mother and aunt very well and had watched Pat grow up alongside my sons.

She was eyeing the young woman. “Girl, you need to stop with this nonsense.”

Lexi glared at Pat. “This is against protocol. Mrs. Saunders will not be pleased.”

“I
know
Ms. Eugeena. Everyone around here knows her.”  Pat shook her head and adjusted her shoulder-length curly wig. I could count on Pat to wear a different wig each week. “Hey, Ms. Eugeena. It’s so good to see you. Really, you don’t have to fill all that out.”

“Thank you, Pat. I do appreciate you.  It’s nice to have some folks used to seeing my face around here.” I gave Lexi the side-eye look. “Besides, I know I have to be in the computer already.”

Lexi looked at both Pat and me like we should be sent to detention. Lucky for us the phone rang diverting her attention from us.

Pat walked around the desk and grabbed my arm. She grinned wide, showing off the gap between her front teeth. “The new girl is a bit much. She’s been aggravating people all week.”

“I see. I can understand wanting to do well on your new job.”

“I guess you’re right. Anyway it is so good that Miss Louise has such a wonderful friend like you, Ms. Eugeena. You and her son are the only ones who come to visit her. Of course,
William
hasn’t been by to see his mother in about a month.”

I knew it!
That boy just tucked his mama in a nursing home so he didn’t have to be bothered with her. “Have you called him?”

Pat frowned as we walked down the hallway. “I’ve tried to call him a few times. Especially the past two weeks since Mrs. Hopkins has been having trouble sleeping. She says she’s having bad dreams, and she gets real agitated.”

I wasn’t surprised. I had decided either Louise was the nosiest woman I’d ever met or in a past life my sister friend had learned some super spy skills. She always knew what was going on in Sugar Creek before most people realized it. I later learned that Louise suffered from insomnia. The woman never slept.

Pat continued her report. “Yeah, she was so frustrated. Poor thing. We have her on some medicine to help her rest, so she may be a little woozy.” Pat stopped walking, looked around and lowered her voice. “If you see Miss Louise’s son, please tell him it’s really important he comes to see me?”

I frowned. I don’t think I’ve seen Pat quite so serious. “Is something going on?”

Pat glanced around again. “You will see what I’m talking about. Be sure William talks to me.”

“I sure will.” As I watched Pat go into another patient’s room, I tried to think positive thoughts because Louise would ask what I was frowning about and I certainly didn’t want to say, “Your son.” I wasn’t sure when I would see William.

I just found out last week he decided to put Louise’s house on the market. I only knew that because I went out to the mailbox and noticed a for sale sign in the front yard.
Really!

Louise was simply
not
replaceable as a neighbor.

As I continued to Louise’s room I passed by a sitting area, I noticed an old black and white movie was playing on the television. The residents sitting around the television didn’t appear to be moved by the action on the small screen. I hurried down the hallway. Getting old was depressing me more than I wanted to admit.

I paused for a minute before entering Louise’s room. Last week I had noticed Louise’s pretty blue eyes had a dullness that was disheartening.

I took a deep breath and smiled as I entered the room. Louise’s room was the brightest room on the hall, painted in a banana yellow, to resemble her home. Her son did have sense enough to use his mother’s money wisely and pay for a private room.

The afternoon sun shone through the window casting a glare across the television screen so I couldn’t tell what Louise was watching. As I turned towards Louise, I stopped in my tracks and frowned. A young woman was standing on one side of Louise’s bed peering intently down at her sleeping face. My first thought was maybe the young woman was a nurse, but she was definitely not wearing scrubs. I couldn’t tell if she was wearing a bright pink shirt or a dress over what appeared to be striped leggings.

She seemed older than my youngest child, Leesa, who had recently turned twenty-two.  I didn’t think she was near the age of my sons, late thirties to early forties. I guessed she was between twenty-five and thirty.

My first thought was something certainly wasn’t right about the woman being in Louise’s room. Did she have to go through security out there at the front desk, and if so, who was she? Perhaps she was a volunteer. Whoever she was she hadn’t noticed I’d walked in the room. I cleared my throat. “Honey, do you work here?”

The woman jumped backwards away from Louise like she’d been caught doing something she had no business.  Her honey-colored skin appeared flushed. A colorful scarf was wrapped around her naturally curly hair, pushing it to the top of her head like a crown. She reminded me of one of the singers my daughter liked, Alicia Keys.

For some reason the woman kept walking backwards, and she bumped into the small table behind her. She stopped as if to steady herself and stuttered, “No, I don’t work here.”

This woman was acting way too nervous for me. Louise had ended up in a nursing home due to being attacked by a young person she and I had befriended this past summer. I couldn’t go through this again.  I moved into the room, closer to Louise’s bed. “Then what are you doing here in this room? Are you looking for somebody?”

The strange young woman looked over at Louise and then back at me. She bit her lip and tugged on her hands behind her back like my five year old granddaughter.  Using my teacher voice, the one I had once used for seventh graders when they’d were trying to be grown in my classroom, I commanded, “Miss, you better explain yourself and do it fast. I’m going to have to call security on you.”

She pulled her hands from behind her back and waved them in front of her. “No, no don’t do that. I don’t mean any harm. I just wanted to see her.”

“Louise Hopkins? You wanted to see her?” I pointed towards Louise who seemed to be knocked out to the world, oblivious to the conversation between me and the young woman. “Why?”

I could hear that woman’s gulp clear across the room before she finally stammered out. “I wanted to meet my grandmother.”

Uh, yeah right
? The Louise Hopkins I had known all these years didn’t have any grandchildren.  Who did this child think she was fooling?

I blinked. I opened my mouth and then shut it to give my mind a chance to process. I stared at the girl. Despite her creative outfit, she was really a pretty little thing, her big eyes were slanted and she had full lips that would’ve rivaled Angelina Jolie’s.  I guess what I was seeking was some resemblance. It occurred to me despite my rash response, that the girl could’ve been telling the truth.

Louise’s son, William, wasn’t exactly the most responsible man in the world despite him being well over forty years old. He’d never married, but it’s quite possible he had a love child. How often had I heard Louise talk about wanting to be a grandmother?  Why would William keep that from his mother? Or did William know he was a father?

I motioned for the girl to walk away from the side of Louise’s bed. As she came closer, I placed my hand on my hip. “Are you trying to tell me you’re Louise’s granddaughter?”

The woman shook her head like she had a puppet master pulling her strings. “Yes, ma’am.”

I looked at her for a minute and then shook my head as if this was a bad dream. Despite my better judgment, I said exactly what came to my mind. It just slipped out. “No sugar, that can’t be.”

The girl stepped back as if offended. “Ma’am?”

“You see I’ve known Louise for many, many years. If this woman had a grandchild she would’ve told the whole world.”

The girl put her hand on her hip. “I told you I’m her granddaughter. My mom told me so and she wouldn’t lie about it.”

I held my hand up as if stopping traffic. “Okay, calm down. Let’s start over. I don’t think I introduced myself. I’m Eugeena Patterson, Louise’s next door neighbor. Now tell me your name?”

The girl let out a sigh before responding. “I’m Jocelyn Miller.”

“That’s a pretty name. So, you live around here?” I hated small talk, but I was really digging for more information. What I did know was William didn’t stay put for long and he’d only recently been back in South Carolina the last few months.

“I was raised in Beaufort.”

“Oh. Gullah country.”  The language from West Africa still thrived in certain areas of South Carolina and mixed with English it was known as Gullah.

Jocelyn smiled. “Yes, I have relatives that talk Gullah or Geechee.”

I glanced over at Louise, wondering if she could hear us. Was she just pretending to be sleep or had that medicine really knocked her out? I wanted to shake her awake. Jocelyn seemed like a nice woman, but I still wasn’t sure what was going on.

I cleared my throat. “Jocelyn, did your mother tell you about your father? I mean have you met him?”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Your dad is Miss Louise’s son.” Knowing his egotistical behind, William might have known about his daughter and rejected the girl. That would have been a real shame.

Jocelyn started to shake her head furiously. “My dad’s name is David Miller.”

Words escaped me. And my head started to hurt because this girl was confusing the mess out of me. “Is David your dad or your step-dad?”

“My biological dad.”

I’m a smart, educated woman, with three grown children, four grandchildren and one on the way. Children aren’t this complicated. Okay some of us do come in the world a bit willy-nilly, me being one of those people. But this girl can’t be related to Louise as much as she would like to be. “Honey, I’m trying to work with you here. Are you sure you have the right room?”

“Mrs. Patterson, I promise you; I have the right room. This woman is my grandmother. Look, I will show you something and you tell me what you see.” Jocelyn went over to the chair in the corner.

I hadn’t noticed the hot pink backpack. I watched her pull out a black marbled notebook. She flipped it open and pulled out what appeared to be a photo. Jocelyn walked around the bed and handed it to me. “Here, this is my family. I’m much younger on this one, only about sixteen. There’s my mom, dad and my brother. My dad passed away a few years ago.”

I took the photo from her. Now I could tell this girl was telling the truth about her father. Despite the difference in skin tones, Jocelyn was the spitting image of the dark brown-skinned man.  Jocelyn definitely had his eyes.

Now Jocelyn shared the same honey-colored complexion as her mom.  Both mom and daughter shared the same full lips.

That’s when it hit me.

The more and more I stared at Jocelyn’s mom, I started to see something. It was the heart shape of the woman’s face and her eyes. The woman’s complexion was more bronze, but her eyes were vivid blue. I glanced at Jocelyn, who was staring back at me with bated breath.

Then I looked back at the photo.

Dear Lord!

Louise moaned from the bed. I stared over in her direction catching as my friend’s eyes flickered open.

Louise Hopkins, you got some explaining to do.

There was no denying this one. In a lifetime I didn’t know anything about, had my dear old friend given birth to a daughter? It didn’t go past me that the woman in the photo was mixed race. So who could have been the father of Louise’s love child?