A Pocket Full of Pie

by Leena Clover

  I was bursting with excitement. Where had Cam and Pamela been that night? I remembered what Pamela had said about Jordan’s health.

  “Would you say Jordan was in good health?”

  “He was strong as an ox. That boy had measles when he was five and other than that, he’s never been sick a single day in his life. Never had that flu, even.”

  I was stumped.

  “Any other illnesses in the family? Anything that might cause a sudden death?”

  Pa Harris reddened.

  “I know what them fool police are saying about my boy. I’m ready to bet the Triple H my boy didn’t die of natural causes. He was done in.”

  He rocked his chair faster as he got irritated. I was beginning to feel dizzy, looking at him. Plus I had a crick in my neck from talking to him at an awkward angle.

  “I believe you, Mr. Harris,” I tried to calm him down. “That’s why I’m trying to find out more.”

  “So what happens to the ranch now? Is Cam going to build that farm of his?” Tony asked.

  Pa Harris looked tired, all of a sudden.

  “Don’t know! Cam’s a big talker but it’s hard to say what he’s really thinking. Pammie’s dedicated, but she needs a guiding hand. She’s a woman, after all.”

  I bristled at this slur to my gender. Tony placed a warning hand on my shoulder.

  “Do you think they might have plotted against Jordan?” I asked slowly.

  I was expecting some kind of explosive reaction from the old man. A tear rolled down his eye.

  “They might have. But they didn’t kill him. You write that down, and remember it, little lady. Pammie or Cam didn’t harm my boy. Blood’s thicker than water.”

  Tony and I made sympathetic comments. I wondered if I should leave Pa Harris alone in this disturbed state. Pamela solved the problem for me.

  “The vet’s here for his weekly visit, Pa,” Pam called out from the doorway. “He wants to talk to you about that new foal.”

  The old man nodded and stood up. He shook hands with me and Tony.

  “Come back anytime. Help me get justice for my boy.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Harris,” I said with a confidence that amazed me. “We’ll find out what happened. Meanwhile, if you think of something, please call me. Cam has my number.”

  We walked out and got into Tony’s truck. The sun had set while we were talking to Mr. Harris although it was barely 5:30. I was quiet as Tony merged onto the small country road that would take us back home.

  “You did good there, sweetie!” Tony answered the question topmost in my mind. “I was proud of you.”

  “I wasn’t too rude, was I? Or abrupt?”

  He shook his head. My stomach growled and I wondered if Tony would agree to stop for a snack somewhere.

  Chapter 15

  I was working reduced hours until a week before Christmas. Then I would be out until the first week of January. We had been so busy working on solving Jordan’s death that we had neglected something important.

  Pappa put his foot down Sunday morning. We had just finished a lavish breakfast of frittata and skillet potatoes with some peach turnovers Sylvie had sent over. She was used to baking several hours a day. Now she was trying to fill her time, making treats for us in her home kitchen.

  “Get ready, kids, we are going out,” he said, tapping his cane, his mouth set firmly.

  His cheeks were red and they were a sign he was about to blow. Tony and Aunt Reema had come over too.

  “What’s happening?” Jeet asked, looking sleepy.

  “I’ve left this to you kids for far too long. It’s the second week of December!”

  “Oops,” I clamped a hand on my mouth as I realized the source of Pappa’s angst. “Our tree’s not up yet.”

  “It won’t be, until we go get one,” Pappa roared.

  Aunt Reema and Motee Ba giggled. I realized they were in on Pappa’s plans. Dad excused himself, citing some deadline.

  “Get back here, Anand!” Motee Ba ordered. “You’re coming with us.”

  “But, Ba, the grades are due tomorrow!” Dad protested.

  “You can get back to them later.”

  Dad relented and smiled. We all looked forward to this annual tradition. We piled into the LX and Tony took his truck along. We would need it to haul the trees home. We drove to our favorite tree lot. The sky was overcast and it was dark outside, even though it was morning. The Christmas tree lot was lit up like a stage. Colorful lights were strung on trees. Christmas music played from speakers.

  Many people must have had the same thoughts as us, judging by the crowds. A man signaled us and we followed him.

  “I’ve set aside these two firs for you. Both are about 6 feet.”

  We stared at two beautiful trees hung with a SOLD sign.

  “Thanks Bud,” Dad clapped him on the back.

  “We want to look around some,” I said, and went deeper into the lot.

  I ran into the Robinsons, Nancy and Nellie. They were trying to pick out a tree.

  “Hello,” I said cheerfully. “Looking forward to your first Christmas in Swan Creek?”

  Nancy’s lip curled.

  “You bet. We already got two trees for the restaurant. We hired a decorator from the city to do them. People are loving them trees.”

  I promised I would come and look at them.

  “We are worked off our feet, you know,” Nellie gleamed. “What with being the only restaurant in town. I finally had to drag Ma here to get a tree for home.”

  “So your business is doing good, then?” I asked unnecessarily.

  I was quite aware of what they had done to make it so.

  Nellie’s head bobbed up and down in excitement.

  “And you didn’t want to move here,” she said to her mother. “I told you I would make it right. Didn’t I, Ma?”

  Nancy looked uncomfortable.

  “Are you from around here? What made you pick Swan Creek for your diner?” I asked curiously.

  “We are from down south,” Nancy tried to brush me off.

  “Isn’t the diner business better?” Nellie squealed.

  Nancy shushed her and dragged her away, frowning at me. I wondered what I had done wrong.

  We loaded our trees in the back of Tony’s truck and went home. Jeet was sent up into the attic to fetch the boxes of Christmas decorations. Many of these were handmade, from crafts projects at school, or stuff Motee Ba had taught me to make. There was a crochet angel my Mom had knitted when she was pregnant with Jeet.

  We had fun putting the tree up. Lunch was ordered in, and we were finally ready to light the tree that evening. Everyone clapped as Pappa settled into his chair. He had enjoyed the day, tapping his cane, ordering everyone about.

  I went into the guest house and started working on my program. I was close to finishing it. I had made no progress over the binder. I forced myself to bring some kind of order to all the information. I started a spreadsheet and began listing out all the organizations that had been contacted, and all the police departments that had sent over some report, or worked on Mom’s case. Slowly, something began to take shape.

  I realized the last inquiry about Mom had been made 15 years ago. My first order of business was going to be putting in a fresh inquiry. I needed them to make her file active.

  Another thing I realized was that only the neighboring states had been contacted. This included Texas to the South, Arkansas to the East and New Mexico to the West. Kansas and Colorado had been added later.

  I thought about spreading a wider net. What if Mom got on a bus that was going to Florida? The possibilities were endless, but I was determined.

  I was not going to leave out any option that came to mind.

  I fell into a dreamless sleep, tired out from all the physical labor.

  I was munching my cereal the next morning when I remembered something. I talked to Tony on my way to work.

  He rung up my usual coffee and threw in a candy bar.

/>   “You must be looking forward to a slower day at work.”

  I bobbed my head. “You have no idea. Hopefully, I can just doze at my desk. How about lunch?”

  “I’ll pick you up.”

  I walked out of the library at 11:40. Tony’s truck was parked in a spot close to Park Street. Most campus spots were empty and now that there were no classes, the campus cops were being a bit lenient.

  I got in and directed him toward the highway.

  “Are you going to cook something at home?” Tony asked.

  I shook my head.

  “It’s been a while since we checked out the competition.”

  “Oh!” he nodded and smiled.

  Nancy’s parking lot was packed as expected. Tony did the smart thing and parked in Sylvie’s lot. We crossed the street over to Nancy’s Fancy Diner. Now that Jon and Sylvie’s place was sealed, all the locals went to Nancy’s. There weren’t too many options in a town like Swan Creek.

  There was a 15 minute wait and we sat on the curb, enjoying the winter sunshine. I told Tony about the spreadsheet I had started.

  “Let’s divvy it up. We can work on a script and then we’ll say the same thing to every department we call. Don’t try to do it all yourself, Meera!”

  The hostess beckoned and we went in. I spotted many familiar faces. Some were older people from town, some were people I knew on campus. Office workers, professors, Bingo playing grandmas – they had all converged at Nancy’s. I supposed I couldn’t really blame them. People have to eat, after all.

  A few people waved at us, and a few tried to dodge us, looking uncomfortable. I made it a point to call out to them and say Hello.

  Nancy’s was on a roll. They offered Early Bird Specials for seniors. They had bottomless coffee for people who spent more than $10. They had Lunch Specials under $5. Whoever was doing this had a great business mind. I had to admit Sylvie had never thought of these things.

  “Do you want the soup and sandwich special?” a young waitress in a spiffy uniform asked us.

  Her sunny yellow dress matched the color the building had been painted.

  “What kind of soup?” Tony asked.

  The waitress pointed to a placard on the table. There were three types of soups and three types of sandwich. If you went for the special, you could choose any soup from the list, and any sandwich. You got a cup of soup and half a sandwich.

  I chose the tomato soup and the chicken salad sandwich. Tony went for the French Onion soup with roast beef. Our meal appeared almost instantly. They must have the soup ladled out in bowls, ready to go.

  The food was okay, but portion sizes were small. Dessert was called for.

  “I don’t suppose you have pie,” Tony began, ready to give the girl a hard time about it.

  “Apple, cherry or pecan,” she quipped.

  “You’re serving pie?” we both burst out. “I thought you people were against pie.”

  The waitress shrugged. She looked harried and I decided to give her a break. We put in our order and also asked for a coffee refill. Since our check was more than 10 bucks, I suppose we qualified for the bottomless cup.

  Our pies came and I plunged a fork in, not expecting much. My eyes popped as I tasted the pie. Tony was having the same reaction.

  “I bet you 50 bucks this is Sylvie’s pie!” I cried.

  A few people turned around. Most people knew who Sylvie was. They looked interested.

  “Who made this pie, hunh?” I scowled at the waitress.

  “It’s artisanal,” she said with a straight face.

  “You bet it’s artisanal. You put this artisan out of business. And now you’re peddling the same pie in your diner? How dare you?”

  My hunch was proven. I had wondered where Sylvie was sending off all those pies. Nancy’s had been the most obvious, considering there weren’t too many restaurant type establishments in Swan Creek.

  Nancy and Nellie came rushing out. Nancy breathed fire. Nellie looked scared.

  “What’s the problem here?”

  She spotted us and folded her arms.

  “You! What are you doing here?”

  “Having lunch! Just like everyone else. And what do I see? You’re serving Sylvie’s pie. After you put her out of business.”

  “What are you implying, hunh? Stay out of my bidness.”

  Nancy was angry but she also looked guilty.

  “So you agree Sylvie made this pie?” I asked.

  “We source a lot of our items from artisanal suppliers. We don’t give out their names. We have exclusive contracts with them.”

  I wonder how Nancy came up with all this mumbo jumbo.

  “You should be ashamed!” I felt a vein throb in my neck.

  I curled my fists, afraid I was about to dock her one. Tony put a warning hand on my arm.

  “I’m running an honest business here. The artisans supply a product and I pay for it. It’s a simple business transaction between two people. What is your problem?”

  “That’s just a lot of crap!” I snorted.

  I looked around. Almost every person in Nancy’s was staring at us.

  “And you! Ya’ll should be ashamed too. Sylvie’s fed you for thirty years. And you’re consorting with the enemy at the first sign of trouble.”

  A part of me realized I was losing it. I had just accused a roomful of people of something. I just wasn’t sure what.

  A woman hissed at her companion.

  “Didn’t I tell you this tasted familiar?”

  “I can spot Sylvie’s pie from a mile,” an oldie with a cane said with a toothless grin.

  “Is it true?” A man in a suit asked Nancy.

  I think he was one of the big wigs at the graduate college at Pioneer.

  “Did you put Sylvie out of business?”

  Nancy squirmed, and denied it.

  The crowd suddenly got bolder and began to fling questions at the mother-daughter duo. Nellie was sweating like a pig, her hair in disarray. Nancy was calmly fielding all the questions, but her ears were red, the only sign of any discomfort.

  Tony tugged at me and motioned toward the door. The waitress came and slapped a bill down at our desk.

  “Why have you charged us for a refill?” I demanded, spotting the double charge for coffee. “Our check is above 10 bucks.”

  “That’s 10 bucks per person,” she said glibly.

  Tony slapped a 20 on the table.

  “Don’t keep the change!”

  The girl came back with the change and we stepped out. Nancy was still dealing with the commotion but I felt her razor sharp glare on my back.

  Was I going to be sorry I messed with her?

  We crossed the road and I collapsed on a bench on Sylvie’s porch.

  “You already knew they were serving Sylvie’s pies, didn’t you?” Tony’s eyes crinkled.

  “I guessed, but I wanted to be sure. Why do you think Sylvie’s dealing with them? Are things that bad?”

  Tony looked uncomfortable.

  “Maybe they are. It’s not something we should ask them about though, Meera. Maybe Granny’s a better person for it.”

  I nodded.

  Tony drove me back to the library.

  “See you in a couple of hours.”

  I waved goodbye to Tony and went in.

  Chapter 16

  We had decided to meet and discuss what we had found out about Jordan. Becky, Tony and I were already present at the guest house. Stan Miller was supposed to come by. I was looking forward to getting some more information from him, however much he was willing to disclose.

  I had set out some munchies. Brainstorming is hungry work at the best of times. My black bean dip was hearty enough to stick to tortilla chips. I had arranged the dip, fresh guacamole and chipotle sour cream in small bowls. A large bowl was overflowing with tortilla chips. There were some buffalo chicken bites for a more hearty option.

  “Do we have to wait for Stan?” Becky grumbled.

  “I’m here
,” he called out from the door.

  He took off his cap and placed it on a side table. I let him have a few sips of his soda and a few bites. Then I began.

  “It’s like this. We’ve met a few people over the last couple of weeks. There’s a lot of information. I just want to pool it and try to make sense out of it.”

  I had set up a white board in one corner. Being a professor’s abode, there is no lack of teaching aids in our house. I’m also a very visual person. Charts and lists are my weapon in solving any problem.

  Becky picked up a marker. We decided to create small sub headings as we went along.

  “So, people we have talked to …’ I began and Becky started a section for people who had already been interviewed.

  “Jessica, Pamela, Pa Harris and Cameron,” I called out.

  Stan looked impressed.

  “You managed to meet them all? We’ve had a hard time making the old man talk.”

  “Jordan Harris was intelligent. He got a degree at Pioneer, and built a dude ranch from the ground up. According to his Pa, he turned the ranch around, so he was smart.”

  Stan nodded. Tony and Becky already knew this.

  “Most people loved him. Or rather, no one hated him. Cam, Pamela, Pa Harris and Jessica have all said that. Except, he dumped a girl at the altar. And what do you bet this girl bore a grudge?”

  “Who’s this girl?” Stan wanted to know.

  “No one mentioned her name and I didn’t ask.”

  I mentally cursed myself for this slip.

  I stood up and started an Action Items section. ‘Find more about’ ex went under it.

  “Cameron is an unstable character,” Tony stated next. “Pamela thought he wanted to start a farm on the ranch or something. He told us he wanted to start a convalescent home for veterans. Pa Harris said Cam was just bluffing.”

  “I think he was just sounding Jordan out. He wanted to know if he was welcome at the ranch.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be?” Stan asked, scooping up some guacamole with a tortilla chip.

  “He never liked the ranch. He went away and joined the Army. Came back recently facing a discharge. Jordan did most of the work to make the ranch profitable. He may not have wanted his brother to just come and enjoy the fruits of his labor.”