Peach Pies and Alibis (28 page)

“Focus, girl!” Reba waved a Twizzlers at her during the middle of the lunch service.
“Ms. Palmer asked for no onions on her salad and you made a mountain of onion rings
on her plate.” She thrust the dish under Ella Mae’s nose.

“I can’t help it,” Ella Mae complained. “I keep wondering what kind of confessions
Aunt Verena’s getting out of the Lurdings, how Mom’s talk is going with Opal Gaynor,
and how Candis is holding up.”

Reba jerked her thumb toward the swing door. “Maurelle will be back any second to
fetch a slice of coconut cream pie for Mr. Copperman, so ask her.”

Ella Mae was almost afraid to talk to Maurelle. She was so pale that her skin was
nearly gray, and her eyes were bloodshot. If she looked this fragile and haggard over
worry for her friend, then Ella Mae hated to raise the subject and make her feel even
worse.

Unfortunately, Maurelle caught her staring.

“I know I look like a vampire,” Maurelle said quietly and managed a weak smile. “But
you’ve seen me eat normal food, so your jugular vein is totally safe.”

Laughing awkwardly, Ella Mae dropped her gaze to the
coconut cream pie. “I’m sorry. I’m just concerned about you. You have a long commute
to work, you’re on your feet all day, and now you’re bearing the burden of Candis’s
grief. If you need to just call it a day, then feel free to go home. A few hours of
extra rest might do you the world of good.”

Maurelle shook her head. “I like being here.” She picked up a stray mint leaf from
the counter and rubbed it between her fingers. “Unless how I look is freaking people
out. I don’t want to run your customers off.”

“Oh, you’re not!” Ella Mae exclaimed, abashed.

“A couple of them have joked that I need more vitamin D,” she said playfully and collected
Mr. Copperman’s dessert. Then, she hesitated. “I do feel really bad for Candis though.
Really, really bad. And for Mr. Shaw too. They’ve been so nice to me and to everyone
else they meet. They don’t deserve to suffer like this. It’s not fair.”

“No one deserves that kind of pain,” Ella Mae said gently.

Maurelle nodded and pushed the swing door open with her bony elbow.

After the lunch rush was over and the dining room had been reset for afternoon tea,
Ella Mae turned the dishwasher on, untied her apron, and sat on the back steps. Inviting
the sun to warm her face and the crown of her head, she sipped a glass of iced tea
flavored with orange slices and checked for voice mails on her cell phone.

Her mother had called and told her to get back to her as soon as she was free.

“Is everything all right?” was the first thing Ella Mae asked.

“Yes,” her mother answered. “I just wanted to fill you in on your aunts’ visit to
the Lurdings. They’re not involved, Ella Mae. Mr. and Mrs. Lurding confessed to being
envious of the Shaws’ lovely house and the fact that they bought Candis and Rudy a
horse as a wedding gift, but other than that, they are genuinely good people.”

Ella Mae was relieved. She liked the Lurdings.

“What about Rudy?”

“As you predicted, he’s utterly guilt-ridden over not being with Candis when her car
went off the road. It wasn’t much of a secret. I think he would have told us about
it without eating a piece of your pie.” She uttered a small sigh. “He’s a sweet boy.
He even said that he would regret not being able to get to know Freda more and that
he’d give anything to take his wife’s grief away.”

Ella Mae felt a stab of sorrow. “I can’t even imagine what Peter and Candis are going
through.”

“They’re going through hell,” her mother said. “Believe me, I’ve been there. The pain
will be less intense as the years pass, but it never truly disappears. Despite what
people say, time doesn’t heal all wounds. We take some of them with us to the grave.”

“Mom…” Ella Mae began. She wanted to comfort her mother, but she didn’t know what
to say.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn maudlin.” Her mother’s tone became flat and businesslike.
“I’ve been busy too. Opal and I managed to meet for coffee without trading a single
insult. According to her, the Gaynor clan has been guarding Tilda twenty-four-seven
since she got to Havenwood. They have their own version of Reba, you know.”

Picturing a tall, haughty blonde with a rifle slung over one shoulder, Ella Mae grimaced.
“That’s an unpleasant thought. Can’t Loralyn just turn her siren powers on and convince
the killer to give himself up to the authorities?”

“Her gift only works on men, and there’s no proof that our killer is male. Even if
he were, all of us are weak right now. Loralyn couldn’t talk a guy into opening a
door for her until after the harvest.”

“So the LeFayes and the Gaynors have become allies?” Ella Mae couldn’t keep the doubt
from her voice.

“For now,” her mother said and rang off.

Amazed, Ella Mae went back inside. She stepped into the walk-in to make sure she had
enough lemon and triple berry tarts lined up for afternoon tea. The chocolate chess
pies were depleted, but she didn’t feel like making more. After all, she’d already
ruined half a dozen orders between breakfast and lunch and didn’t want to bake a fresh
round of imperfect pies. However, she had to prep a fresh batch of whipped cream,
as her regular customers would expect a generous dollop atop their teatime dessert.

Placing the stainless steel bowl from her commercial mixer in the refrigerator to
chill, Ella Mae took a tub of sugar down from the shelf and searched for an upbeat
song on the radio. She then slipped her apron over her head and began making the whipped
cream.

By the time her dessert garnishes were prepared and stored in the refrigerator, it
occurred to Ella Mae that she hadn’t seen Reba or Maurelle for over half an hour.

“I hope they’re both taking a well-deserved break on the front porch,” she said to
the tall vase filled with bright orange gladiolus perched next to the sink. After
another five minutes had passed, Ella Mae decided to head into the dining room to
look for her waitresses when Maurelle burst through the swing doors, her dark eyes
round with terror.

“Something’s wrong with Reba!” she cried, her face eggshell white. “She’s on the floor
and she can’t breathe!”

Pulling her phone from her apron pocket, Ella Mae barreled through the doors, dread
making her movements agile and quick.

Reba was sprawled on the black-and-white tiles, feet bucking wildly and hands clutching
at her throat. Her eyes bulged in panic and her tongue hung from her mouth, as if
she was desperately trying to suck in even the tiniest molecule of air. She looked
like a hooked fish thrown into a pail, left to flop and gasp until it died.

Ella Mae thrust the phone at Maurelle. “Call nine-one-one!”
she shouted and lifted Reba’s head off the ground, peering into the cavern of her
mouth in search of an obstruction, but Reba’s airway appeared to be free of foreign
objects. Ella Mae murmured, “Let me look at you, let me look at you,” while trying
to examine Reba’s neck. She had to pry Reba’s hands away, and when she succeeded,
she saw an angry red mark a few inches above the soft hollow between the collarbones.
The small, swollen circle resembled an insect bite.

“Did something sting you?” she asked.

Reba managed an agonized nod.

Maurelle was begging the emergency operator to hurry, and Ella Mae felt a rush of
blinding rage course through her. She’d never felt so inept, so utterly useless and
helpless. The world spun around her and the only thing keeping her from losing the
last shreds of her sanity was the weight of Reba’s head on her lap. She stroked the
familiar nut brown hair, whispering for Reba to stay calm, to relax so that the oxygen
could make its way into her straining lungs.

“Close your eyes,” she said. “Picture us in the forest when the butterflies came.
There was a breeze, remember? The sun was going down, but there was still enough light
to see them drift down from the sky. Can you see the Dr Pepper cans in the trees?
Remember how you taught me to let go of all my thoughts before I squeezed the trigger?
Do that now, Reba. Let go of your fear. Go back to the forest. Relax. Let the air
in. Relax. Let go.” Ella Mae repeated her mantra over and over again, unaware that
she was crying until her tears fell onto Reba’s cheek.

The scene was nightmarishly similar to that of Candis’s wedding when Freda had so
suddenly taken ill, and Ella Mae forced the thought from her mind.

This isn’t the same thing,
she convinced herself.
Reba’s having an allergic reaction or something. She’s not sick. She won’t die.

Taking her eyes from Reba, who seemed to be drawing in just enough breath to hold
on to consciousness, Ella Mae glanced at Maurelle for a single, intense second, “Did
you see what happened?”

Maurelle’s voice quavered as her words tumbled out. “N-No. She was outside watering
the plants on the front porch. I didn’t hear anything weird, but then she came in
with her hands on her neck and dropped to her knees. Sh-she looked…surprised.”

“That’s all? What about before that? Who was in here? Who was on the patio?” Ella
Mae’s questions were curt and sharp. Fear and anger made her sound cruelly abrupt,
but she couldn’t spare the time or energy on kindness at the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Maurelle said miserably. “I don’t know anything else. We haven’t had
a customer since Mr. Copperman left. I was cleaning the fingerprints off the display
cases, so my back was to the windows. I’m so sorry.”

Ella Mae took another precious second to scan the closest tiles for evidence, but
she saw nothing. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered to Maurelle, and then she shouted,
“Damn it all! Where’s that ambulance?” She tried not to tense her body. The last thing
she wanted was to have Reba’s throat tighten up again.

“Can you go out front?” she asked Maurelle. “Look around for what could have bitten
her or—” The sound of an approaching siren interrupted her. “
Go!
Tell those paramedics to hustle their asses!”

Maurelle dashed outside like a shot.

“Reba, help is coming,” she murmured, bending over her beloved friend. “They’re right
outside the door, so don’t you dare leave me. You stay in our forest and breathe that
beautiful, fresh air. You stay there, you hear me? Stay and watch the butterflies.
Stay with me, Reba. Stay with me. Stay with me.”

When the paramedics entered, Ella Mae was rocking Reba like a mother rocks a sick
child. She resisted being pulled from her at first, but then relented and scooted
backward to allow the EMTs to do their job. Glancing from the middle-aged man who
put an oxygen mask over Reba’s mouth and nose to the young woman who had placed the
flat disc of a stethoscope under Reba’s T-shirt, Ella Mae tried to interpret their
expressions, but their faces were unreadable.

“I’m not leaving her side,” she told the male paramedic as he and his partner loaded
Reba onto a collapsed gurney. “So if you’re going to tell me to follow you in my own
car, you can save your breath. I’m not leaving her.”

For a moment, she thought they’d argue, but the male gave her a brief nod.

“Can I do anything?” Maurelle asked as the paramedics raised the gurney to its full
height. She was leaning heavily against the counter, looking paler than Reba.

The female EMT paused. “Are you okay, miss?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Maurelle answered in a thin voice and pointed at Reba. “Just take
good care of her.” Her dark eyes found Ella Mae’s. “Do you want me to come?”

“No, just lock up and go on home.” Ella Mae hurried past her, close on the heels of
the paramedics.

Inside the ambulance, she put her hand over Reba’s, taking comfort in the warmth of
her skin. Closing her eyes, Ella Mae pictured the forest near Partridge Hill. The
sound of the siren lost its shrill edge and slowly faded away as if Ella Mae had gone
underwater. The rocking sensation of being in a moving vehicle disappeared. All she
could sense was the feel of the afternoon sun falling upon her shoulders and the whisper
of butterfly wings.

Find out what did this to her,
she commanded. She repeated her orders over and over until the hum of wings turned
into a roar inside her head.

Still holding on to Reba’s hand, she opened her eyes and turned to look out the window
in the rear doors of the ambulance. Her heart swelled with hope and she felt a powerful
surge of strength when she saw an enormous cloud of multihued butterflies rise into
the sky.

“It’s going to be all right,” she told an unresponsive Reba. And for the first time,
she truly believed that she was capable of controlling fate. The magic was exploding
inside her. She was riding in the ambulance, but she was also floating on an air current.
And then, she fluttered over grass blades and parted the shadows until she could see
the source of Reba’s wound.

“It’s a spider bite,” she told the female paramedic. “A brown recluse. Will that help
you treat her?”

The paramedic gave her a dubious glance. “I thought you said you didn’t know what
happened.”

“I didn’t then,” Ella Mae said, her mind’s eye cluttered by images of the flowers
bordering the pie shop’s front walk. “But I do now. Everything’s become so clear.”