A Pocket Full of Pie

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A Pocket Full of Pie Page 8

by Leena Clover


  We piled into the LX a few hours later, ready to go to Tony’s for dinner. I pulled him aside as soon as Aunt Reema welcomed us into their beautiful home.

  I gave Tony the lowdown, waiting for him to say something.

  “I’m with you, Meera!” he said, kissing the top of my head. “I’ll help in any way you want.”

  The doorbell rang and Sylvie and Jon came in. Sylvie was slightly out of breath, but she looked happy. I was amazed. Maybe she’d started on the wine a bit early.

  “Sorry we’re late,” she said, handing over a couple of pies to Aunt Reema. “Last minute order for some pies.”

  My eyes met Tony as we mulled over this surprising development. But the smells from the kitchen soon drew us in. After multiple servings of turkey and fixings, we went out to play football. Dad joined us for a while, then the grownups dozed in front of the TV.

  Becky drove up and I filled her in again on the latest. We went in for pie and a game of Monopoly, enjoying the holiday.

  Chapter 12

  Dead Week arrived with its usual chaos. Kids were scrambling to send in their final projects and papers. There wasn’t an inch of free space in the library. Every chair was taken and in some places, kids squatted on the carpeted floors, peering over notes and books.

  I was feeling a bit nostalgic. We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Moaning over why we wasted the entire semester partying or lazing around, promising ourselves the next time would be better. And the four years just flew by like that, at the snap of your fingers.

  I dragged myself home, exhausted. I had a bit of a headache and all I wanted was some peace and quiet.

  “Message for you,” Motee Ba announced as soon as I entered through the kitchen. “Someone called Cam. Wants you to call him back.”

  “Cameron Harris?” I exclaimed. “That’s the dead guy’s brother. We met him at the ranch.”

  “Seems like a handsome brother, judging by the look on your face,” Motee Ba said cagily.

  I blushed.

  I took the number Motee Ba offered and went into my room. I dialed the number, wondering why the sour puss was calling me.

  “Hello?” A voice answered hesitantly.

  I recognized Cam’s voice. He sounded a bit uncertain.

  “This is Meera. Meera Patel. I’m just returning your call.”

  “Oh, Hi!” his voice came on clear. “Yes, I did call and leave a message. How are you?”

  We exchanged some pleasantries. All the time I was wondering what he wanted from me.

  “Jessica mentioned you’re looking into Jordan, er, Jordan’s death,” he said after a pause. “And that you wanted to talk to the family.”

  “That’s right,” I confirmed.

  “Well, I don’t know about Pa or Pammie, but I’m ready to meet with you and answer any questions you may have.”

  “That’s great,” I stopped lounging and sat up in bed. “Do you want me to come to the ranch?”

  “Not necessary. I’m coming that way tomorrow. How about we meet for lunch. Or an early dinner?”

  I didn’t think I could get away from my desk, so I picked dinner. I suggested the Thai place and he agreed readily.

  “How about 5:30 then?” I asked.

  I didn’t have a free moment all day the next day. Lunch was just a pre-packed salad I picked up from a campus store. I was starving by the time I entered the Thai place.

  Cam was waiting, leaning on his cane. The hostess showed us to a table, greeting me with familiarity. I was on friendly ground.

  There was an awkward moment as we both tried to make small talk. Then Cam shook his head and leaned closer.

  “Ask anything you want. I have nothing to hide. And I want to find out what happened to my little brother.”

  “I’m not sure how much Jessica told you,” I lead. “Sylvie and Jon are…”

  Cam waved a hand as if trying to rush me.

  “I know all that. No need to explain. Why don’t we get on with the questions?”

  I sensed the cranky sourpuss surfacing. He slumped suddenly and looked ashamed.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. It’s this blasted leg, see. It starts hurting suddenly, and once that happens, I can’t keep a thought straight in my head. That’s why I want you to get to the point. We don’t have much time.”

  I assured him I understood. Or did I?

  “Are you older than Jordan?” I led with something simple.

  Cam leaned back and a nostalgic look came over his face.

  “Yes. He was the baby of the family. Pam’s the oldest of course. I came by almost 10 years later. And then Jordan was born.”

  “You must’ve been close, being almost the same age.”

  Cam nodded.

  “That we were. Didn’t have much choice in playmates, did we? Growing up on the ranch? Not too many neighbors.”

  “Did you always dislike life at the ranch?” I asked.

  “Was never too fond of it,” Cam agreed readily. “I wanted to get out, see the world. I grabbed my chance soon as I graduated.”

  “And now you’ve come back.”

  I stated the obvious.

  “At least for a while, yes. Although this whole thing with Jordan has put me in a tight spot.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “I came to recuperate at the ranch. Pa insisted. It’s actually a bit inconvenient for me, driving over to the city all the time to get my check ups.”

  “So you weren’t planning to stay?”

  Cam shook his head.

  “Didn’t I say I was eager to get away? Why would I go back there? I had an apartment all picked out in Dallas. Got a couple of old Army buddies there who were going to set me up in a cushy job.”

  “So ranching was never your thing then?”

  “No sireee, it wasn’t,” Cam repeated, slurping the Tom Kha soup the waitress had finally brought over.

  “Jessica mentioned you wanted to start an organic farm on the ranch?”

  Cam looked sheepish.

  “Oh that? That was just a thought. I was having a bit of fun with Jordan.”

  “You mean you were purposely needling him?”

  Cam shrugged.

  “You like picking fights, don’t you?” I didn’t hide my acerbic tone.

  “Hey, I was just hanging around. Nothing much to do at the ranch. Jordan and Jessica were right there, canoodling all the time, talking about their future, going on and on about their big plans. It was all a bit too much.”

  He made a gagging motion with his hands.

  “You mean you were jealous.”

  “A bit,” he agreed. “Mostly I was feeling sorry for myself. It’s this leg, like I told you.”

  He pointed to his foot and pulled up his trouser leg. I got a glimpse of a prosthetic. I hadn’t realized how serious his injury was earlier.

  “Sometimes, the pain is so severe. I’ll do anything to distract myself, keep myself from crying out.”

  “So you picked fights with your siblings.”

  Somehow, I wasn’t feeling too sympathetic toward Cameron Harris. He was a lesson in how looks can be deceiving. Those baby blues of his had stopped having any effect on me.

  “Do you ride?” I asked.

  I was getting tired. I needed to fill time to think of some more questions.

  “A couple of hours every day. I did grow up on a ranch after all.”

  He smiled in what may be called an engaging manner.

  “So the ranch is not all that bad, hunh?”

  “The place was beginning to grow on me, to be honest.”

  “Did you tell anyone about it?”

  Cameron looked uncomfortable.

  “They had this pretty life. All of them did. Pa had almost signed over the ranch to Jordan. He was getting married. Pammie was happy running that dude ranch business. They didn’t really want me there.”

  “And now?” I asked softly.

  “Now it’s all up in the air. Pa’s getting
old. He was looking forward to taking it easy.”

  “So you might be able to convince him to turn the ranch into an organic farm. Or plant on all 500 acres.”

  “I see Jessica’s been talking,” he sneered.

  The sourpuss was beginning to surface again.

  “What changed your mind?” I asked. “About the ranch?”

  “It’s so peaceful,” Cam’s tone was wistful. “It began to grow on me. I’m a bit battle weary. I’ve seen too much evil to last one lifetime.”

  “I would think it would be perfect after the stressful life you’ve led.”

  Cam’s eyes widened.

  “I thought of that. It’s actually great for soldiers who need an extended convalescence. We already have the infrastructure for that, with the cabins. We can build more.”

  I was a bit confused.

  “So all your other business ideas – the organic farm, the wheat crop – they were just a fib?”

  “I was trying to gauge their reaction. See if they were conducive to something I suggested. How they felt about me staying on.”

  “And all this time you actually wanted to turn the Triple H into a fancy spa for wounded soldiers.”

  “Not exactly, but in a nutshell, yes.”

  Cam’s face had brightened, and he was staring into some future I wasn’t privy to.

  “Just think about what we have to offer – fresh air, farm grown fresh food, the lake, the ponds, and the horses! Think of all the therapy they can offer to trauma victims. And to folks who are disabled like me.”

  “Have you discussed this with anyone yet?” I asked.

  Cam shook his head.

  “It’s too soon. The ranch isn’t going anywhere.”

  Now that Jordan was dead, it certainly wasn’t.

  “Couldn’t you have done both? Let Jordan operate the resort and the dude ranch, and reserved some of the space for the sick people?”

  Cam shrugged.

  “I guess.”

  I pushed aside my plate of Pad Thai noodles. I thought of all the Agatha Christie books I had read, and the cop shows Pappa continuously watched on TV.

  Cam seemed to have a motive, if having the ranch to himself was one. Of course, Pamela was still around, and she probably had a share in the ranch. But maybe she would just fall in line with what her brother wanted.

  Did Cam have an opportunity to harm Jordan?

  “Where were you that Sunday, when Jessica and Jordan were celebrating their engagement?”

  He gave me a devilish grin.

  “Want to know if I did it? Why don’t you just ask me outright?”

  I squirmed. I guess my question had been obvious.

  “I was in the city,” he said. “I urged them to come with me, you know. I told Jordan he should take her to a nice steakhouse in the city. Not some old diner they could go to any time.”

  I opened my mouth the object. He beat me to it.

  “Nothing wrong with the diner, but I’m sure it’s not the place for a romantic date.”

  I tried to picture myself on a date. I had a sparkling diamond on my finger. I wanted to show it off. Where would I want to be? I would want flowers and candles, and table cloths. As much as I loved Sylvie’s, it was too down home for such an occasion.

  “I get that,” I admitted. “Jessica said she had some meeting at Pioneer.”

  Cam rolled his eyes.

  “Couldn’t she have bowed out of it? How many times do you celebrate your engagement, hunh?”

  “So you went to the city,” I steered Cam to the point. “Oklahoma City, right?”

  “I had a doctor’s appointment at 4. And then I had a session with my therapist. It was almost 8 PM by the time I started back. Had to grab dinner from a drive through.”

  Cam could have been in Swan Creek sometime around 10. Jordan was still around here at that time.

  “I had no need to come into Swan Creek,” he said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Far as I knew, Jordan was already home and in his bed.”

  “But he wasn’t,” I stated the obvious. “Can you think of any reason why he may have stuck around?”

  Cam looked uncomfortable.

  “I don’t know.”

  He was hiding something, but I didn’t want to push him.

  “When did you notice he wasn’t around?”

  “I don’t think anyone did,” he told me. “Pammie’s the one who locks up at night, after dinner and stuff. I think a couple of cabins were rented out that week. Jordan gets up at 4 and has grub with all the ranch hands around 5. They would notice his absence. But most people knew about his big date. I guess they thought he overslept.”

  “So … no one missed him until the cops called?”

  I tried to imagine Dad taking that kind of a call. Especially when he thought I was in my room sleeping.

  “Must’ve been a shock,” I said softly. “For everyone.”

  “Pa’s the one most affected,” Cam said quietly. “Although you wouldn’t know it, looking at him.”

  “So, did he have any enemies?” I asked.

  “Jordan was the sweetest guy you’d ever meet. He was kind to everyone. Never thought he’d come to a sticky end.”

  “What about Jessica? Did they get along well?”

  “Have you been listening at all?” Cam frowned. “They just got engaged, didn’t they? Why would they get hitched if they didn’t get along?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just trying to cover all the bases.”

  “Shooting in the dark, hoping you’ll hit some target?” Cam smirked.

  I realized I was doing exactly that. Cam was rubbing his leg, getting antsy.

  “You’ve been pretty helpful, Cam.”

  I thanked him and he agreed to get in touch if he thought of anything more. I watched him drive off and got into my Camry. I reached home 10 minutes later. I spotted Sylvie’s car outside the guest house. I found her in the kitchen, rolling out pie dough.

  The diner was out of commission and we still had plenty of leftovers from Thanksgiving. I wondered who she was cooking for.

  “What’s this?” I raised my eyebrows.

  “We have a standing order for 10 pies every day,” Sylvie beamed.

  She pulled out two lattice pies from the oven and set them on the counter to cool. The cherry filling oozed out, filling the air with a heady, sweet aroma.

  “Are you allowed to make these?” I asked, confused about the legalities.

  “I can’t use the diner kitchen. But I can cook if I want. And I can make a pie if I want to.”

  She sounded defiant.

  “Someone from town?” I asked.

  Sylvie hummed along with the radio, pouring some toasted pecans into a pie plate lined with crust. Either she didn’t hear me or she didn’t want to say.

  I wondered about this sudden demand for Sylvie’s pies in Swan Creek.

  Chapter 13

  The meeting with Cam left me with an uncomfortable feeling. There was something not quite right about him. Maybe it was some sixth sense, or just prejudice.

  I checked out some image processing books from the library and read up on it in my spare time. I started working on my program. That was the easy part. Going through the thick binder Dad had given me was the tough one. Every time I opened the file, I got lost in some minute detail and found myself tearing up. This way, I would never make any progress. I thought of asking Tony for some help.

  Finals Week started and the campus emptied a bit every day. I was on pancake duty for two nights. This is a tradition at Pioneer. The library, along with the alumni office serves pancakes at midnight every day during the exams. Students line up for the food and a much needed break from their heavy duty studying. I suppose the sugar keeps them going until morning.

  I had flipped my thousandth pancake and was ready to call it quits when I held up a plate for the next person in line. I found myself staring at Jessica.

  “I’m gonna miss these pancakes when I graduate,” she said wi
stfully. “They’re tradition, you know.”

  I nodded.

  Jessica took the plate from my hands and leaned forward to whisper softly.

  “I talked to Pamela and Pa Harris. They will talk to you. You have to go to the ranch, though.”

  I blinked to let her know I understood. She was edged out by the next person in line.

  Two days later, I was riding in Tony’s truck, on the way to the Triple H. I had put in a lot of overtime and I was due half a day. We had decided to go and talk to Pamela and Mr. Harris.

  “Did you talk to Stan lately?” Tony asked, cruising along at the speed limit of 50 miles per hour.

  “Yeah. He came home yesterday.”

  “Do they have any more news about Jordan? Like his cause of death?”

  “That’s the curious thing.”

  I poured out what Stan Miller had told me the earlier day.

  “So he died a natural death?” Tony asked incredulously. “Why are we going to interview his family, then?”

  “They are not sure,” I said uncertainly. “Stan said something about him being in shock, but there not being sufficient proof. They don’t know what brought it on. And in the absence of anything definite, they just might call it an accident. Or something like that.”

  “And they say science has advanced!” Tony smirked.

  “I guess some questions are tough to answer,” I tried to be philosophical.

  “So he wasn’t poisoned then?”

  I shook my head.

  “Not by the usual means. If he was poisoned, it was something untraceable.”

  “Like some strange foreign virus, you mean?” Tony asked, bewildered.

  “I’m as clueless as you are, Tony. But our goal is to prove it wasn’t the pie. Or rather, it wasn’t Sylvie’s pie.”

  “Wasn’t Sylvie’s pie found on him?” Tony sounded frustrated.

  “Yes, but maybe someone doctored it. Doused it with something when he wasn’t looking?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. When he went for a swim in that lake I suppose.”

  I folded my arms and looked away. Tony could be really indelicate at times.

  Some flurries started blowing and the sky darkened. I cranked up the heat in the truck. Tony drove through the arches of the Triple H and pulled up outside The Lodge. Pamela was meeting us there at 3. It was ten to.

 

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