Pies & Peril

by Janel Gradowski

  Carla jabbed the speed button on her treadmill to add a fast interval and burn some extra calories. She and Bruce had just ordered in pizza for dinner the previous evening. While she preferred an all-veggie pie with super thin crust, he liked every ingredient possible on top of a thick crust that wouldn't collapse under the mountain of toppings and cheese. So the slices ended up weighing what felt like half a pound each. Her jog turned into an all-out sprint. She bumped the pace up even higher and pretended a guy dressed as a giant slice of pizza was chasing her with a sickle-sized pizza cutter. A stupid way to motivate herself, but it worked. Beside her Amy had grown quiet. She had a strangle hold on the rails of the elliptical machine while glowering at the overhead TV broadcasting a soap opera.

  "Hello. It's so nice to see you."

  The comment snapped Carla out of her running rhythm. She slapped the stop button and grabbed the rails on the treadmill to keep from shooting off the back. The belt stopped, but she was left leaning forward at a forty-five degree angle with both feet dangerously close to the back of the deck.

  She glared at Tom, her straight-laced ex-boyfriend. "What is wrong with you? You don't surprise people who are running on a treadmill."

  He shook his head and frowned. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

  It had been over a year since she had seen him. She could've gone the rest of her life without ever seeing him again. The encounters always left her feeling depressed and irritable. The emerald green eyes and tousled black hair with a damn near perfect body. Trying to explain to people why she broke up with such a great guy was impossible, since she didn't even know why she ran away from him. It seemed that the combination of good looks and a sweet personality were just too perfect for her. She was far from flawless, so it just seemed wrong to be with someone who had few faults. He stood there shifting his weight from foot to foot, probably too stunned to move after being on the receiving end of her not-so-kind outburst. She started up the treadmill again and stepped onto the belt. Still there. Dealing with past mistakes wasn't something she wanted to tackle during a workout. "Is there something I can help you with?"

  The speed was set at a walking pace, but her heart raced like she was sprinting again. No. No. No. He wasn't going to do what he appeared to be working up the courage to do. They were barely even having a conversation.

  "Would you like to go out sometime? We could try the new wine bar that opened downtown last month."

  "That place isn't very good. I've already been there with my boyfriend. The wait staff is obnoxious, and everything is overpriced."

  Beside her Amy let out an extra-loud huff. Most likely she hadn't increased the speed on the elliptical, though. Tom shook his head. The rather adorable shy grin he had been sporting turned into a frown.

  "I'm sorry for bothering you. I didn't realize you were in another relationship."

  "No problem. It's not like we have our relationship statuses stamped on our foreheads." She smiled and poked the speed increase button a few times. Would he interpret the move how she intended? Please stop. I can't handle this right now. Not when things are going so well with Bruce. "Thanks for asking."

  It worked. He flipped the gym-issued white towel over his shoulder. As he turned away he said, "It was great seeing you again."

  "When it rains it pours, huh? I think you're in the middle of a hot guy storm. You know, I've always liked Tom. You could've been a little nicer to him just now, but I'm so happy that you're happy with Shepler." Amy had stopped her machine and was blotting sweat off her face with a towel. "You deserve a wonderful man."

  So much for working out. Judging from the amount of sweat soaking Amy's T-shirt there was no way she'd convince her to do any more exercise. Carla hit the stop button again. "I thought you just wanted me to get close to Bruce so you could get inside info on Mandy Jo's case."

  "I did. At first. Now I see how much you're into him and I'm glad it's worked out this way." Amy looked at the door to the women's locker room, where the sauna was located. "Can we hit the sauna now? My legs feel like jelly that doesn't have enough pectin. I'm on the verge of collapsing into a puddle."

  "Sure."

  Ten minutes later they were both wrapped in beach towels, sprawled on the wooden benches in the large sauna. Amy pulled the rubber band out of her hair, undoing the perky ponytail. She twisted her long, blonde locks into a knot on the top of her head and re-fastened the elastic to hold the bun in place. Then she leaned her head back against the wall. "I am so glad that is over with. Between that torture machine and this sauna I'm sure I've sweated off about five pounds."

  Carla laughed as she splashed a ladle of water onto the hot rocks. The hiss of the evaporating water was an appropriate sound effect to match her emotions after the encounter with Tom. "I doubt you've lost quite that much in excess water, but you're off to a good start. Exercise is very important when you want to lose weight."

  "Whatever, Miss Health Nut Nurse." Amy dismissed the comment with a wiggle of her fingers. "I would buy a gym membership to bake myself like a loaf of French bread in here every day. I'm sweating even more than when I was on the elliptical."

  "Saunas are good for you. They help clear your pores and clean out toxins, but I'm afraid you'll still need to exercise. It just isn't the same."

  "Sweat is sweat in my book, and you just admitted it's a good thing." Amy swiped her sweat-soaked bangs back. "I prefer this method for producing it."

  "I do too. Still isn't going to get rid of fat like exercise will."

  The glass door swung open, and a woman sporting a reverse skunk stripe hair color scheme, platinum blonde with dark roots, pranced into the room. She plopped down on the bench across from Amy and flung open the towel that had been wrapped around her torso. Carla closed her eyes. The muffled voices of other women in the locker room were the only sounds for a few minutes. When she opened them again the newcomer was shielding her eyes with her hand, like she was in bright sunlight instead of a dim, foggy sauna.

  "So, are you still going to compete in the pie contest next month? Don't you have enough trophies?" she asked.

  Obviously the questions weren't directed at her. Carla turned her head slightly so she could see her friend. There was definitely a hostile edge to the other woman's voice. Come on, Amy. Don't put up with crap like that.

  "Yes and no."

  A few moments of silence blanketed the room again. The one word responses had thrown the other woman off. Good.

  "I was so surprised to hear that you had found Mandy Jo's body. Right away I told myself you must be competing in the pie contest this year. You hauled home the trophies and prize money in the cookie and cake contests. Why can't you stay away from this contest so the rest of us can win something for a change, now that Mandy Jo kicked the bucket?"

  There was an extended snuffle as Amy inhaled through her nose. "It isn't about the trophies or money for me. I just love the challenge of developing new recipes and the thrill of competition."

  A classy response. Apparently class repelled obnoxiousness quite well since the woman gathered the towel back around herself and stalked out of the sauna. Carla and Amy stayed silent for a few seconds and then simultaneously broke out into giggle fits.

  "Good job. She deserved a harsher smack-down than that, but it worked. Who was that?"

  "Rayshelle Applebee. A perennial competitor in all of the Summer Festival baking contests. She and Mandy Jo were like the evil twins of the competitions. Not only did their personalities match, they even looked similar before Rayshelle started bleaching her dark hair. The biggest difference is she doesn't have the baking skills to place in any of the contests, let alone win them like Mandy Jo did."

  Carla leaned back again. "Looks like this visit to the sauna has really paid off. Make sure you call Bruce so he can check Rayshelle out. I'd say she's a top contender for sending you those threats."

  * * *

  The cold air felt so good. Amy adjusted the vents on Mimi's dashboard so the rapidly
cooling air blasted her face and chest. All of the fitness stuff was very hot and uncomfortable. She needed to commune with some coldness before heading out into what would surely be maddening traffic or she could self-combust. In her rearview mirror she saw Carla's scarlet red Nissan Juke pull out of the gym's parking lot. She was used to pounding the snot out of her body and then jumping onto the congested freeway.

  Amy twisted the key in the ignition and shut off the engine. External air conditioning was good, but a nice, cold beverage would help her feel less like a steamed dumpling. A smoothie from the shop next door to the gym would do the trick.

  She got out of the car and looked around the parking lot, just to make sure Carla hadn't forgotten something and reappeared to thwart her plans for a treat. That elliptical machine belonged in a medieval dungeon. She deserved to relax in the sauna and have a smoothie after enduring half an hour on that awful thing. Besides, Alex certainly didn't have any problems with her body last night. Maybe Carla was right. Sporting sexy curves wasn't a bad thing.

  The menu board at the smoothie cafe listed icy drinks featuring just about every fruit known to man. Choosing one was actually more difficult than she had anticipated. Finally she settled on a strawberry and dark chocolate blend that was listed in the Sweet Treats, as opposed to the Healthy or No Added Sugar, category. She requested energy, mood, and weight lost boosters be added to it. That should make up for the itty bit of chocolate. Besides, dark chocolate was now supposed to be healthy, too. So the indulgent smoothie concoction should've been labeled as Virtuous.

  She checked the time on her phone as she walked back to the car. No messages and plenty of time to stop by Elegance Salon to see how donations were going. The huge foam cup barely fit into the cup holder as she settled back into Mimi. The drink was thick and cold, but gritty thanks to the three kinds of vitamin powder. Oh well, live and learn. She would only add one booster when she stopped in the future. The sauna with a smoothie chaser made the exercise bearable enough to return to the gym. Eventually. She drove across town with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding the delicious reward for willingly torturing herself.

  Thalia and Clarice, the owner and receptionist, were both behind the counter when Amy walked into the salon. They had their heads down, engrossed in some project to the point that neither noticed her arrival. Finally Thalia looked up. "Amy! Sorry, we didn't hear you come in. Repetitive tasks can be so mesmerizing you tune everything out."

  Amy stepped around the end of the high counter to see what was on the desk behind it. Clear plastic bags filled with round tea bags and tied with black ribbons were scattered everywhere. "What are you guys doing?"

  "Making the goodie bags for tomorrow night," Thalia said like Amy would know what she was talking about.

  Between the ominous notes and Alex trying to help her do something other than worry about them, she had no idea what was going on in town. "I'm sorry. I've been pretty stressed out lately. What's going on tomorrow?"

  "The Shots & Whatnots event. The downtown business association has been advertising it for months."

  "Oh, yeah. I remember hearing about that. Guess I've just lost track of time and didn't realize it's tomorrow." Amy picked up one of the cellophane bags. "Is this tea, a foot soak, or facial steam?"

  "Lemongrass and mint tea, to drink. A special blend I had made up just for the salon."

  "Sounds yummy. I bet it's good hot or cold."

  "It is." Thalia tucked a couple bags into the front pocket of Amy's purse. "You have to try some. Caffeine-free, so you can drink it in the evening."

  "Thanks."

  The donation box sat on the counter a foot away. Too obvious to ignore even though she dreaded opening it. Amy slipped off the cover. There was probably $30 or $40 inside, judging by the amount of fives and tens. Most likely left by the staff of the salon.

  Thalia sighed deeply. "Sorry. Like I said before, Mandy Jo had lost most of her customers because of her surliness." She punched a button on the register, and the cash drawer slid out. She slipped out a fifty dollar bill and dropped it into the open box. "This will help a bit more."

  "You don't need to do that."

  She held up her hand. "Despite our differences she was a loyal employee and a very skilled stylist. Have you thought about doing a memorial brick instead of a bench? I'm sure those cost less."

  Why, no, she hadn't thought of that. Amy wanted to smack her head on the nearby wall. Of course, the park offered different kinds of memorials in a variety of price ranges. Nobody else seemed enthusiastic about doing the memorial, so it was unlikely she would ever be able to pay for the bench from donations only. Still, Mandy Jo didn't deserve to be murdered and then forgotten like a carton of chicken lo mein in the back of the refrigerator. Amy looked at the money in the box again and made the decision. A less-expensive brick it would be.

  "That's a great idea. I'll look into it when I get home. Thank you for the suggestion," Amy said as she put the lid back on the box and tucked it under her arm. "No more need for my silly-looking box to clutter up your counter."

  "No problem." Thalia placed her hand on Amy's forearm. "Find yourself a designated driver and come out tomorrow night. I'm sure a few cocktails would help ease some of your stress."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Amy stubbed her toe on the corner of an uneven section of sidewalk. Carla caught her by the arm as she stumbled toward the grass median between the sidewalk and curb. Grass and mud stains wouldn't have blended in with the pattern on her skirt.

  "Thanks. If we had to go back home so I could change my clothes, we'd have to park in River Road Cemetery. It is going to be packed downtown." As it was they had parked three blocks north of Main Street in the old residential area where the note was left on Amy's windshield. The ancient sidewalks were cracked and slanted, courtesy of old age and tree roots. It was like walking through a fun house.

  Carla waved her phone in front of Amy's face. "I doubt half a dozen cocktails will do much for your balance and agility. If you fall down later, I'll take pictures. Just in case you can't remember what happened tomorrow when you're trying to clean up those pesky stains."

  "Gosh. You are so helpful." Amy rolled her eyes. "Always thinking ahead."

  Thank goodness the purpose of the evening was to blow off some stress, not compete in a poise contest. Gracefulness wasn't one of her strong points. "No pictures. No evidence. Or Alex may never let me go out with you again. You're supposed to be looking out for me, just like Alex expects you to."

  "Really? I don't remember promising that to him."

  "I promised for you." She grinned. "You're welcome."

  Carla shook her head as she returned the phone to the front pocket of her jeans. "Where is Alex tonight? I'm surprised he didn't insist on coming with us so he could keep track of you, too."

  It had taken a lot of convincing to get Alex to leave her with Carla and have some fun himself. He and his friends had been planning the boys' night out for months, but he had wanted to cancel to make sure the illiterate psycho didn't get her. "He's at a concert in Detroit with a few of his friends. When I told him Rayshelle was most likely sending the notes and that Shepler was keeping an eye on her, he finally agreed that both of us could have some fun. Separately."

  "He's loves you and is just trying to take care of his sweetie."

  "I'm a big girl." She wasn't a naive child who needed to be shielded from the cruel, hard world. "I can take care of myself, usually."

  "Says the woman who is walking like a drunk before even having a sip of alcohol."

  "Whatever." She stopped and pointed at a black SUV. "That's where I was parked when the last note was stuck on Mimi. Nobody in the neighborhood saw anybody suspicious. I swear I'm going to install security cameras inside Mimi if Shepler can't pin the notes on Rayshelle."

  Carla exhaled so loudly a dove strutting under a nearby bird feeder flapped its wings to protest the noise. "Hopefully he nails her soon so you can both relax."


  "I am planning on relaxing tonight. Why do you think you're my designated driver?"

  They walked around the back corner of Riverbend Coffee and conveniently landed at the end of the line to get into Shots & Whatnots. As they waited Carla studied the banner, listing ticket prices, which stretched over the registration table. "Looks like it'll be an inexpensive night for me. I only have to pay a quarter of what you do since I'm not drinking."

  Amy couldn't resist messing with her friend a bit, especially after the embarrassing picture threat. "You qualify as a cheap date. When's the last time you were called that?"

  "It's been a while. I don't do cheap and easy."

  "Definitely not a distinction anybody should aim for," Amy said as she dug her wallet out of her purse. "I'm paying tonight. I really appreciate you rearranging your sleep schedule to come with me."

  "I told you, it isn't a big deal." She winked and bumped shoulders with Amy. "My sleep patterns are a mess already since I started dating Bruce."

  "And it's my fault, I suppose, for making you go out with him."

  "Yup. Sure is…and I appreciate it."

  Amy put her hand over her heart. "My goodness, do I hear correctly? My dedicated spinster friend in a serious relationship and enjoying it?"

  "It's a seriously fun relationship. Fun. That's it."

  "You know, the best relationships always have an element of fun to them. A couple that plays together, stays together."

  She glanced at Carla, who was staring at the park on the other side of the river, obviously trying to drop the conversation by ignoring it. The ticket booth was manned by four serious looking older women representing the Friends of the Library, a charity the event would help. One of the women, wearing a sun dress covered in huge, fuchsia roses asked, "How many treat tickets do you want to purchase?"

  Carla answered, "I'll just have half a dozen since I don't have time to go to the gym over the next few days."

  Amy placed her order for a combination of treat and cocktail tickets. Ten of each, to maintain a balance. One of the volunteers explained that the red tickets could be used in exchange for one cocktail shot and the white tickets were for non-alcoholic offerings, either mocktails or the variety of treats being offered by the downtown businesses. Plus, the drink tickets could be used to get non-alcoholic treats if she decided she had reached her maximum relaxation level and was drunk enough.