by Ami Diane
“Of course. The cheese is from Bradford Farms. The pears are from the greenhouses. And a local resident makes the pineapple salsa.”
“Gotcha. So, hypothetical question, how many of these hors d’oeuvres can I eat before you get mad? Ballpark a number. Ten? Twenty?”
“None. You eat none.”
“None. Got it.” Ella winked at her.
“No, really. You don’t eat any.”
“Sure, sure. Don’t eat any. Got it.” She shot Wink finger guns.
Wink narrowed her eyes. “So help me, Ella, if I find fewer than fifty on a platter, you will be cleaning Chester’s poop for a month.”
She left Ella with that horrible prospect and marched off, yelling at Sal for putting his homemade macaroni and cheese too close to her lasagna.
“Bit harsh.” Ella looked sideways at Flo. “Now I get why you two are friends.”
Ella worked on assembling the pieces on what may have been a serving platter but looked an awful lot like a used hubcap. Once she got into a steady rhythm, she had the “platter” filled in ten minutes, just as the sanctuary-turned-hall overflowed with people.
Ella wiped her hands and surveyed the crowd, doing her best car salesman impression and pointing out her creations to anyone who passed. Further down the line of serving tables, she spied a suspicious looking red gelatin that shook as a result of all the foot traffic.
She grimaced, remembering the trout lime mold Rose had made. It was a happy memory, tinged with the regret of current circumstances. So much had changed in a week.
Mayor Bradford waltzed up to the lectern, and the din fell to a whisper. He leaned forward, seeming to relish the control, and said two words: “Let’s eat.”
The room broke into chaos. It was as if he’d announced the last donut on earth was theirs for the taking.
A tsunami of townspeople rolled towards the table. Someone jumped over a chair. A little boy kicked another boy, gladiator style.
“Incoming!” Flo yelled. She yanked Ella aside in time before she got body-checked by a man in a kilt.
Ella’s mouth fell open as the flow jostled her further and further from the table.
“What are you doing?” Wink hollered at her. “Grab a plate and get in here before all the good food’s gone!”
This was insanity. She seriously considered skipping a meal.
A woman in front of her was already sporting a goose egg on her cheek. All things considered, Ella was rather attached to her own face the way it was.
Then, a squat man with a box-shaped head started piling up the hors d’oeuvres she’d just made.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Sticking out her sharp elbows, Ella shoved him aside using a wrestling move she’d seen on TV that everybody tried to convince her was fake.
He coughed, giving her enough time to snatch the platter. She ran down the line, made it to two other trays, and piled the contents on top. She didn’t even bother seeing what the last one was. Just grabbed.
“Ella! Catch!” Wink tossed her a roll.
A few feet away, Flo did a fake sneeze on the remnants of the potato salad. A few groans and “gross” comments later, she beamed at Ella as she slopped it all up for herself.
Once Ella’s platter was piled high and the perimeter of the tables became too thick with bodies, she stepped out of the fray. Within a few minutes, it was as if someone had rung a bell and all the fighters retreated to their corners.
Smears and crumbs were all that remained of the potluck, except some of the less appetizing dishes which were mostly still intact. Ella noticed very little of the vegetable tray had been touched.
She wandered until she found Wink, Flo, and Will sitting at a table with an elderly couple. When Will spotted Ella, he smiled and pulled out a chair for her.
“Thanks.” Her cheeks flushed, and she avoided looking at Wink.
“Which lasagna did you get?” Flo asked before Ella’s bottom had even touched the seat.
“I think I got yours. I couldn’t get to Wink’s. Some ten-year-old girl was guarding it, and she looked pretty mean.”
“That’s Sally. You made the right call.”
“So, that blood bath’s normal?”
“What? Did someone get hurt? I missed it.” Flo’s face fell.
“Not that I saw.”
“Oh. Then, that was pretty tame.”
Ella looked to Wink and Will for confirmation then swore under her breath. Next time, she’d come armed with a helmet and elbow pads. Maybe boxing gloves, too.
Wink shoveled a portion of her lasagna onto Ella’s plate.
Flo’s eyes gleamed. “Well? Which do you prefer?”
“She literally just put it on my plate. You just watched her do it.” Ella’s fork poised over the untouched food to prove her point.
The Bobbsey Twins continued their staring contest. Ella looked to Will for help.
He held his hands up. “You’re on your own.”
“Traitor.” She cleared her throat. “I guess I’ll be eating lasagna now, but only because I want to. It has nothing to do with you two annoying me.”
Ella cut through one with the side of her fork. Cheese and marinara sauce gushed out. She slipped the bite into her mouth, the flavors melding together, and she let out a sigh.
“That’s amazing.”
“Which one?” Flo jumped from her seat and leaned so far over the table her blouse took a swim in her salad dressing.
“Um…” Ella had already lost track of whose slice she’d tasted.
Wink fished Flo’s top from her food. “Flo, you got ranch on your—”
“Ha! She tasted mine. Did you see that? She preferred mine.”
“Give it a rest. She hasn’t tried mine yet.”
“Oh. Right. Carry on then.”
Ella stared at Flo like she’d grown two heads. After forcing Flo back a few inches, Ella took a bite of Wink’s entrée. The flavor kicked up a notch more than Flo’s, but the cheese was creamier.
“Huh. I like both.”
Flo dropped into her seat, her mouth sputtering. “You can’t like both.”
“What can I say? I do.” Ella made a grandiose sweep of her hand over the lasagnas and raised her voice as if directing a play. “These two pasta dishes are the best—nay, the greatest—slices of Italian cuisine I’ve ever—”
“Take it down a notch,” Will muttered. “They bought it.”
“Oh.” The two women had already tuned her out and were bickering in low tones. Ella let out a heavy sigh. “Too bad. I was really winding up to something. Did you see my hand wave?”
“I saw your hand wave.”
“I could be a magician. Or Vanna White.”
“Whatever you do, don’t pick a favorite.”
“Magician?”
“No. Lasagna. If you do, then they’ll stop making them.”
“Good point.” After devouring one of the lasagnas—she didn’t know which one—she bit into a homemade brownie.
Blonde hair and the scent of strawberries swirled through the air as Jenny sat down on the other side of Will. Ella’s veins turned to ice, but she shot Jenny her best chocolate-ladened smile anyway.
Jenny flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Ugh. I didn’t see anything low fat over there.”
“Pretty sure this brownie’s low fat.” Ella held it up.
“Hey, I know you. You were there during Jesse’s shootout with the sheriff.”
“Yep.” Right before you ditched me. “I’m Ella.”
“Jenny.”
Ella extended her brownie-covered hand but was disappointed when Jenny noticed and refused to shake.
The conversation drifted while they ate, mostly to people Ella hadn’t met yet. Growing bored, she watched the elderly couple across the table.
The woman dabbed at a bit of whip cream on the man’s cheek. A few minutes later, when she came back complaining that all of her favorite chocolate chip cookies were gone, he dug his out under a mound of mashed potatoes
and gave it to her, resulting in an affectionate peck on the cheek.
Ella smiled to herself then looked away, feeling like she was intruding.
Will dipped his head close to hers. “Frank and Grace.”
She hadn’t realized he’d been watching her watch them.
“Hey, creeper,” she said. He ignored her comment.
“Been married forty years. Happily married, I might add.”
Ella’s gaze turned back to the couple eating in comfortable silence. When they looked at each other, their eyes still sparked with a deep love and passion she rarely saw. She looked back at Will.
“Did you plan that?”
“Them kissing? No.” He winked at her. “But I may have invited them to sit here knowing how they behave around each other.”
Watching them, Ella’s chest tightened, and a small lump formed in her throat. So, it was possible.
“Thanks,” she whispered to Will.
Jenny clued in to their conversation and called over to Frank and Grace, “You two are so adorable.” She had to repeat the comment three times before they heard her.
Ella left them to get a second helping of homemade ice cream. As she drizzled a generous amount of caramel and fruit on top, the side door burst open and a glowing sunset washed over her, blinding her.
One of the last voices Ella wanted to hear yelled her name.
“Ella Barton!”
Her heart stuttered, and she dropped the serving spoon back into the ice cream.
Jimmy marched towards her. “We need to talk.”
CHAPTER 29
“OH HEY, JIMMY,” Ella said, laying the enthusiasm on thick. “Come here often?” She cracked a smile. “No? What about the ice cream? Have you tried it yet? I was just about to, but then I thought, ‘Ella, you should probably watch what you eat.’ So, that’s what I’m doing…”
While she rambled on, she took a step back, and her eyes raked the crowded sanctuary in search of an exit. The nearest one currently had a frothing, red-faced innkeeper filling it.
She raised her chin. He wouldn’t dare hurt her with all these people around.
His eyes bore through hers as he stalked around the serving table.
She let out a hollow laugh. “You know, I’m just going to—” She turned and leaped into the crowd.
If she could just get back to her table, then she’d be safe. Chances were good, Flo was packing.
But doubt niggled the back of her brain. They were all Jimmy’s friends. They didn’t know he possibly murdered Kay, and Ella didn’t have time to explain why he was guilty.
In front of her, two men—one with a farmer’s tan and the other in tailcoats who looked like he’d stepped out of a Dickens novel—parted. Jimmy stood there, waiting for her.
She skidded to a stop. She didn’t know how he’d managed it, but he’d cut her off from her only refuge.
His eyes were wild above heavy bags and shadows. He took a lumbering step towards her.
Instinct kicked in, and she ran. Her brain told her to stay, search for Will and Wink, but her legs had their own idea: to get as far away from Jimmy as possible.
She bolted through the open front doors. The sound of her flip-flops slapping against her heels echoed over the empty street. They made running a challenge, and she almost bit concrete twice.
In hindsight, she wished she’d just committed the fashion faux pas and worn sneakers with her dress. She kicked the footwear off, deciding it was safer running barefoot.
Ella pumped her legs as hard as she could down Main Street. Ahead, she spotted the shadowy gap of an alley.
“Ella! Stop!” Jimmy’s heavy footfalls pounded behind her.
“Sure thing, Jimmy!”
She ducked down the alley—the same one where she’d met Six—and sprinted the length of it until it spilled out in front of the lake.
“Why are you running? I just want to talk!”
Sure you do.
His long legs swallowed the distance, and he was nearly upon her. Ella lunged around a maple tree, nearly clotheslining on a low hanging branch.
“Ella!”
He let out a frustrated growl as his lithe body hit her back like a freight train. They tumbled into the grass, limbs tangling as he tried to pin her down.
She attempted another move she’d seen on TV and collided her forehead with his. She let out a hiss between her teeth. “Ow! Oh, that hurts. Oh that really, really hurts.”
She clutched at her skull, and Jimmy stared at her in bewilderment, his forehead barely red.
“That’s nothing like on TV. Is my head cracked open? It feels cracked open.” She checked for blood. Her heartbeat pulsed at the injury site which she was sure wasn’t a good sign.
“Enough!” He fastened her arms down and sat on her legs.
“Let me go!”
“We have to talk!”
“Let me go or I’ll scream.” She twisted against his grip.
He moved so less of his body was on her, and she was able to pull in a full breath. “Better?”
“Fan-freaking-tastic. Now, will you let me go?”
“No.” Anger flashed over his ruddy face, making him appear his age for the first time. “I just had an interesting conversation with Six. He said he saw you talking with the sheriff not too long before Rose got arrested. Said you pulled him outside to discuss something important. That true?”
Ella squirmed and pulled at his steel grip. “You really trust anything that outlaw says?”
Jimmy narrowed his eyes. “Just answer the question.”
Before this morning, she would’ve spilled her guts to him, the guilt weighing so heavy on her. But now, now she knew the truth.
“Why? So you can kill me like you did Kay?” She tensed, waiting for him to hit her. Her heart thumped so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
“What did you say?” Jimmy tilted his head back, his eyes cold.
No. Not cold.
She searched his face. He was desperate. Hurt. Angry.
“Why would you think I killed her?”
“Because she changed her mind. She wouldn’t run away with you.”
His eyes widened. “Seriously? That’s what you think?”
“I found her suitcase in the basement.”
The innkeeper stared open-mouthed at her for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time. Then, he shook his head, and his grip eased but didn’t release her.
“We weren’t having an affair. How many times do I have to tell people that? We weren’t going to run away together. She planned on leaving. Alone. I was helping her. As a friend.”
Ella studied him. He was telling the truth.
She released the tension in her body and stopped struggling. Rose was innocent. Jimmy was innocent. That left Six.
“Ella, what did you say to Chapman?”
She looked away, the guilt feeling like a weight on her chest. “I’m sorry, Jimmy. All I did was repeat what Six had said: that he saw you and Kay meeting up in the woods.”
“That can’t be all. What aren’t you telling me?”
Ella closed her eyes, took a breath, and opened them. No more lies.
“I may have mentioned that Rose had recently clipped the jewelweed in the conservatory. If ingested, its symptoms are similar to what Kay experienced.”
His jaw clenched and unclenched. He raised a fist. Ella squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head. But the strike never came.
She peeled one lid open at a time. The storm in his face subsided. He released her and rocked back onto his heels.
She scrambled out from under him, keeping him in her sights.
His hand ran through his disheveled hair. “You have your sights set on the wrong people, Ella. None of us killed her. I’d hoped you would be a better judge of character. I was wrong.”
“Can you blame me? How well can any of us really know someone?”
His eyes snapped to hers. “I’m not a killer. And I know Rose. She’s no killer ei
ther. I feel sorry for you that you’ve never trusted anyone that deeply.”
His words were venom and pierced her heart, echoing Will’s from earlier.
“I don’t want your pity.” Ella jumped to her feet. “You all view each other with rose-colored glasses. Someone in this town killed that poor woman, but you all refuse to believe it.”
Pain flashed across his face, and she wished she could bite back the bitter words. She was a better person than this. Her conversation with Will had revealed something toxic inside of her that she clearly needed to work on.
She stared at the ground. “Jimmy, I’m sorry—”
“Ella, we’ve all been there. Transitioning here isn’t easy. Let us help you. You don’t have to go it alone. We choose to be around each other despite our flaws because the alternative’s worse.”
“Being alone doesn’t mean you’re lonely,” she countered. “I’m not lonely.”
“No. But not having faith in others is.”
Ella backed away, too emotionally exhausted to continue the conversation.
Without another word, she turned her back on him and trudged up the bank. When she reached the top, she stopped and faced him again. “Why was she leaving?”
“Pardon?”
“Why was Kay leaving? Was it because of her father?”
Jimmy pressed his lips together and slowly nodded. “I guess there’s no use keeping it secret anymore. He was not kind to her. Not a good father. He beat her for years and controlled every aspect of her life. He’s not a good person.”
Ella stood in stunned silence. Emotions competed for priority, mostly sadness and anger.
“The saddest part of it? She was planning on leaving that night.”
“What?” Ella turned his words over. “Did Mayor Bradford find out?”
He shrugged.
“Did you tell Chapman any of this?”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. “I’d promised Kay—swore to her—I’d never tell a soul.”
What if Kay’s father had found out she was leaving that night?
Something clicked deep inside her mind, a memory of a familiar voice she couldn’t place. The voice. He was the voice she’d overheard by the lake.