Peach Pies and Alibis (9 page)

“What can I do to help?” Ella Mae asked.

Her mother’s expression was grave. “Be alert at all times,” she said. “And get very
good at keeping secrets.”

After leaving Melissa Carlisle’s place, Ella Mae dropped Reba off at her cottage in
the woods. Like Melissa’s cabin,
Reba’s house was tiny and seemed to have grown up from the forest floor. But while
Melissa’s home had a simple Puritan style, Reba’s was trimmed with gingerbread and
looked like a diminutive Alpine chalet.

“When you get home, unlock your daddy’s gun closet,” Reba ordered. “Pick a weapon
small enough to carry in your purse but big enough to do some damage if necessary.
Clean and oil your piece. We’re goin’ shootin’ tomorrow after work.”

Ella Mae didn’t argue. Too overwhelmed to be scared, she simply nodded.

On her way home, she glanced at her phone while at a stoplight and saw that she’d
missed a call. She listened to a brief message from Maurelle Ambrose asking if she
could come into the pie shop for an interview.

“I’m hanging out at the Cubbyhole bookstore and I think I’ll be here for hours. I
love this place.” She paused. “Um, anyway, if you happen to be in town, I’d love to
come over and officially apply for the job.”

Ella Mae was so close to The Charmed Pie Shoppe that it made no sense to drive past
it and schedule the interview for another time. After her surreal day, she wanted
to do something as normal as talk with a potential employee. Just the idea of being
in her sunny kitchen among the aromas of buttery dough and fresh herbs made her feel
as if her feet were still firmly planted on the ground.

Without further hesitation, she parked in front of the pie shop. After calling Maurelle
and inviting her to come over, she tied Chewy’s leash to the porch rail, gave him
food and water, and then fixed two glasses of sweet tea. Normally, she’d conduct interviews
in the main dining area, but today she felt like sitting in the rocking chair on the
porch.

Chewy issued a friendly bark when he saw Maurelle heading up the path, and Ella Mae
shushed him. The young woman looked especially pale today, but she jogged up the
porch stairs with a spry tread that belied the sickly appearance of her skin.

“I thought we’d have an informal chat,” Ella Mae said, offering Maurelle a glass of
tea. She then went on to describe what she needed from an employee and set out the
hours and the salary she was prepared to offer. “And you can take home all the leftover
food you want,” she added, watching as Chewy’s eyelids slid shut. She was always amused
by how quickly her young dog dropped off to sleep.

“I have waitressing experience,” Maurelle said when Ella Mae was done. “And I’ve been
a line cook too, so I could pitch in around the kitchen whenever you need an extra
hand. My energy level is fine, even though my skin’s the color of milk.” She dropped
her silvery blue gaze and tugged the cuffs of her long-sleeved T-shirt. “Do you think
how I dress will be a problem? Because I’d really rather not talk about, you know…”
Swallowing hard, she continued. “I wouldn’t want your customers to feel uncomfortable.”

“Because you wear long sleeves?” Ella Mae covered Maurelle’s hand with her own and
was surprised by its coldness. “Fall’s on the way, and in two months we’ll all be
dressing like you. If anyone pries into your personal life, tell them to shove it.
I don’t care if we end up chasing off rude customers. And if someone bothers you,
let Reba know. She’ll take care of them.”

“Reba?”

“She’s…” Ella Mae trailed off. It was nearly impossible to describe all that Reba
was to her. Surrogate mother, sister, best friend, guide, and protector. “She’s our
only waitress and a longtime family friend. I’m sure you two will get along great.”

A fly buzzed by Chewy’s nose and the terrier shifted. Opening his eyes, he rolled
on his back and stared at Maurelle.

“I think he’s flirting with you,” Ella Mae said. “That’s his way of asking for a tummy
rub.”

“Then I can’t let him down,” Maurelle said with a smile. She reached over and gave
Chewy a scratch. His mouth opened and he grinned in canine rapture.

Ella Mae waved at her dog. “Chewy goes to doggie day care, so he won’t be able to
take advantage of your good nature when the pie shop’s open.”

Maurelle gazed at Chewy. “You’re a ladies’ man, aren’t you?”

While Maurelle bonded with her dog, Ella Mae rocked in her chair. Gazing out at the
lush lawn and the groupings of colorful annuals lining the front walk, she felt some
of her tension melt away. The rose-covered cottage and the tidy yard restored an iota
of normalcy to her strange and unsettling day. Turning to the young woman beside her,
Ella Mae said, “So if you want the job, it’s yours.”

“I definitely want it,” Maurelle answered with a small smile. “Thank you.”

“Then I’ll see you at seven tomorrow morning. I hope you can get used to going to
bed early.”

Maurelle looked pensive. “I’m definitely a night person—no sunlight to hide from—but
I’m willing to make some changes if it means working here.” She stood up. “Um, what
should I call you? Ms. LeFaye?”

“Heavens, no! That makes me sound like my mother.” Ella Mae laughed. “Ella Mae is
fine.” She touched Maurelle briefly on the arm. “In no time at all, we’ll feel just
like family.”

“That would be nice,” Maurelle said and told Ella Mae she’d see her tomorrow. She
moved up the path and to the street in a swift, featherlight tread. It was as if her
feet barely touched the ground.

Ella Mae took her time finishing her tea. In a single day she’d bought a car, hired
a new employee, and learned that she belonged to a race of magical creatures.

Reluctantly, she pushed herself to her feet and brought the tea glasses inside. Locking
the front door, she untied Chewy’s leash. “Come on, sweetie. It’s time to go home.
Mama’s got a handgun to clean before supper.”

An hour after Ella Mae hired Maurelle, Reba roared up Partridge Hill’s driveway and
parked her old Buick in front of the guest cottage. She unloaded a pair of bulging
suitcases from the trunk and headed into the main house with a purposeful gait.

Before Melissa Carlisle’s death, Reba would have marched straight into the kitchen
to prepare a delicious supper. Instead, Ella Mae watched as she checked the locks
on all the windows and doors, her sharp eyes running over every inch of the old house
in search of weaknesses.

The realization that she’d grown up without really knowing the people she loved had
Ella Mae feeling both angry and grief stricken. Now that she’d been Awakened, she
expected to be enveloped by a powerful sense of belonging, but she didn’t. Staring
at her reflection in the mirror, she felt alienated and alone. She wanted to talk
to someone about how strange it was to have discovered that she wasn’t quite human,
but there was no one for her to turn to.

Ella Mae didn’t even fit the norms as had been defined by her relatives. According
to her mother and aunts, most girls were Awakened in their late teens, like a pack
of enchanted debutantes. Ella Mae, on the other hand, hadn’t felt a spark of power
until this summer. Why was she different?

Desperate to still the flurry of thoughts crowding her head, Ella Mae left Chewy to
wander in her mother’s garden and set out for the lake. Her mother kept a rowboat
tied to their dock, and Ella Mae wanted nothing more than to grasp the oars in her
hands and fight against the pull of the water until she could sit in absolute isolation
in the middle of the lake. There, with the sun sinking into the trees and the first
stars appearing in a saffron and persimmon sky, she could lean back and let the boat
lull her into a state of tranquility.

With this image fixed in her mind, Ella Mae untied the boat from its cleat, gripped
the oars, and pushed off from the dock. Her first few strokes were awkward and the
bow turned too far starboard, setting her on a collision course with the swim platform
her mother had had anchored twenty-five yards offshore when Ella Mae was a girl.

As a child, Ella Mae loved to keep track of how long it took her to reach the floating
dock from the grassy banks. She started each day of her summer vacation racing against
her own best time. With one exception, none of the kids her age had ever beaten her
in a freestyle sprint.

“Hugh always won by at least two body lengths,” she mused aloud, finally striking
a rhythm with the oars. The little craft leapt forward, its prow aligned with the
path of the setting sun. Water lapped at the boat’s sides, and a gentle spray danced
from the oar handles with every pull.

Thinking of Hugh Dylan seemed like an excellent distraction from the day’s events,
so Ella Mae gave herself leave to indulge in her favorite pastime. How many classroom
lessons or conversations had she missed, envisioning Hugh
wrapping an arm around her waist, his beautiful eyes fixed on hers as he whispered
that she was the only one he wanted? How many years had she dreamed about kissing
Hugh Dylan? Now that she had, with such a baffling result, she fell back on her teenage
fantasies. In these rosy visions, Hugh’s mouth didn’t burn her when their lips met.

“Is he like me?” She addressed her question to the hills rising above the lake. Somewhere
to the northeast was a dying ash tree awaiting a human sacrifice. Had Hugh been there?
Did men have Awakenings?

She thought of the sweltering June day in which she’d come upon Hugh at the swimming
hole. Hiding behind the bushes, she’d seen him throw a coin into the deepest part
of the water and then dive in after it, staying under far too long. He’d broken through
the surface minutes later, his dark hair slick and the muscles of his tan, naked torso
gleaming as sunbeams lit the water droplets on his skin. He’d looked like a merman
then, painfully alluring and achingly beautiful, and now Ella Mae couldn’t help but
wonder if he was something more than the owner of Canine to Five and a volunteer fire
fighter.

“I’ll ask Reba,” she said, resting the oars against her thighs and allowing the boat
to drift. “She’s the one who said Hugh and I weren’t right for each other. So he burns
me when we kiss. Maybe there’s a magical remedy for our little problem. A dose of
Ms. Carlisle’s reserve honey, maybe?”

Ella Mae realized that not only was she babbling out loud, but her efforts to take
her mind off Melissa Carlisle’s death were also a complete failure.

Sighing, she picked up the oars, pivoted the boat one hundred and eighty degrees,
and began to row for home.

Suddenly, she had the sense that she was being watched. She cast her gaze along the
shoreline, but the lake edge was still and quiet. Glancing over her shoulder, she
thought she
caught a flicker of light on the tiny island in the middle of the lake, but then she
blinked and it was gone.

Ella Mae felt foolish for having placed herself in such a vulnerable position after
her family had warned her to be cautious. With the approach of nightfall, the atmosphere
on the open water had changed. The birdcalls and insect droning had fallen away. Only
the haunting hoot of an owl echoed across the lake, raising the tiny hairs on Ella
Mae’s arms.

She picked up her pace, her back muscles straining in exertion, and the boat shot
through the darkening water. A luna moth appeared from nowhere. It hovered above her
head for a moment, fluttering its yellow green wings, and then came to rest on the
bow. It sat there like a ship’s figurehead, its diaphanous body trembling a little
in the breeze. Within minutes, more moths alighted on the fiberglass rim, illuminating
Ella Mae’s way forward.

“Thank you,” she told the glowing insects. She closed her eyes, calling forth an image
of the butterflies that had formed the rainbow that had led to her Awakening. Butterflies
and moths had always been attracted to Ella Mae, and she was especially grateful to
have them with her now.

At the dock, she secured the boat and made her way up the path, through her mother’s
fragrant herb garden, and into the kitchen. Reba was tossing pizza dough into the
air like a Frisbee, twirling it around her fingertips. It stretched and grew and stretched
and grew again until it had formed a perfect disc.