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Evil Éclairs

Page 8

by Jessica Beck


  “You are investigating his murder on your own, aren’t you?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  She shook her head slightly. “Stop it,” she said, the agitation clear in her voice. “I won’t play games with you. Answer me.”

  I didn’t want to, but after thirty seconds, I couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Somebody’s got to figure out who killed Lester. I don’t want anyone in town believing that I’m a murderer.”

  “Has anyone said anything to you?” It was clear that my mother had gone from disappointed to angry to protecting her chick, all in a split second. She was allowed to criticize me all she wanted, but if someone else said one disparaging word, my mother would go for the throat.

  “Not that I’ve heard,” I admitted softly, touched by her reaction, “but can you possibly imagine that the rumors aren’t already flying around town? Let’s face it, everyone has a reason to be suspicious. I had an argument with the man and the next day he was found with one of my pastries jammed down his throat, even if that wasn’t what killed him. It’s not exactly a leap of reasoning for folks to think I might have had something to do with it.”

  “Those who know you won’t even consider the possibility that you are a murderer,” she said.

  “I appreciate you saying it, even if it’s not true.” I was tired of thinking about Lester Moorefield for one day. “How was your day?”

  “Busy,” she said.

  When more details weren’t offered, I decided to drop it. My mother had her hand in several businesses, and she mostly liked to keep that part of her life separate from mine. We’d forged a sometimes-uneasy alliance when I’d moved back home, and it didn’t hurt either one of us to have a few secrets of our own. “At least you’re not bored. Any thoughts on dinner?”

  She looked at the clock. “It’s taken care of. We should be eating in ten minutes.”

  I sniffed the air, and I picked up the unmistakable scent of her homemade cornbread. Growing up, I’d had cornbread in the school cafeteria, but it was nothing like Momma’s. Where theirs had been coarse and flat, my mother’s was light and just a little bit sweet. I wasn’t sure how most Southerners would react to it, but it was a little bit of heaven to me. “Brown beans, chopped scallions, and spinach, too?”

  “I thought it would be a nice change of pace,” she said.

  “I agree.” Unlike many of my peers, I’d always been a huge fan of spinach growing up, and I loved the combination we were having. It had to be in the top ten of my comfort foods, and that was saying a lot. At times I wondered if too much of my comfort was derived from what I ate, but wasn’t that true of just about all of us?

  Momma and I sat down and enjoyed a hearty meal, and I was happy again to be living where I was. Real butter melted into the muffins, dripping slightly onto my fingertips. “That was delicious,” I said as I ate the last cornbread muffin bud. While some folks served theirs in huge square slabs, my mother had a pan that produced perfect little cornbread muffins. “Tell you what. That was so great, I’ll do dishes tonight.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t mind. I’ll do them,” she said. “I know you’ve been under a great deal of stress today. Why don’t you take a walk in the park, and when you come back, I’ll have an apple crisp pie out of the oven.”

  I looked at the calendar, and when Momma noticed, she asked, “What are you looking for?”

  “I was just checking to see if it was my birthday.”

  She laughed. “Can’t a mother pamper her daughter on occasion for no reason in particular?”

  I hugged her, and even though I was a good five inches taller than she was, I still felt very much her little girl. “You have my permission, even my blessing, to spoil me any time you want to,” I said.

  When I pulled away, she was smiling gently at me. “Now go walk and leave me to those dishes.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said. I grabbed a light jacket on the way out, just in case things had cooled off any since I’d come in. Sure enough, the temperature had been dropping, and there was a chill in the air. It was as if each day were divided into two different seasons, one of the reasons it was close to my favorite time of year. I pulled the edges of my jacket close, and then walked the loop around the park. There were several spots that were significant to me, from where I’d learned to ride my bike, to where I’d had my first kiss, and even where I’d sat and cried three weeks later when that same boy broke my heart. As I always did, I touched the bark of the Patriot’s Tree as I passed it by, an old oak that had a murderous past. It was there that British soldiers had been hanged, and then nearly a hundred years later, Yankee spies had joined them in making history. A weathered plaque below it said, in Thomas Jefferson’s words, “The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.” It seemed that my forefathers had taken the quote literally.

  I finished my loop, and was nearing the cottage when I saw someone silhouetted on the porch. As I got closer, I couldn’t believe who was standing there.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Jake! You came early.” I wrapped my arms around him, and he twirled me in the air. After we kissed, I pulled back. “I didn’t think you were coming until tomorrow.”

  “What can I say? I missed you too much to stay away. I figured I could do my paperwork here just as easily as I could there, so why not be with you? You’re okay with me coming early, aren’t you?”

  “Are you kidding? You never need my permission to come here,” I said.

  Jake hugged me. “It’s been too long.”

  “I missed you, too. Have you had dinner yet? Momma made brown beans and cornbread. I’m sure there’s enough left to put a plate together for you.”

  “Thanks, but I ate on the way,” he said.

  I laughed. “Trust me, if you’re the least bit hungry, it’s worth tasting. You’ve never had anything like it. I guarantee it.”

  “It’s tempting, but I really am full,” he protested.

  The porch light flipped on, and Momma walked out and joined us. “I thought I heard voices,” she said. “Jake, it’s wonderful to see you.”

  “You, too, Mrs. Hart.”

  “Please, I told you to call me Dorothy.”

  “You can tell me all you want, but that won’t make me do it,” he said with a smile.

  “Would you do it for a piece of apple pie fresh out of the oven?” Momma asked him.

  He didn’t even need to think about it. “Sold. For a piece of your pie, I’ll call you the Queen of England, if you’d like.”

  “What’s my name, then?”

  “Dorothy,” he said. Jake Bishop was definitely old-school, and I knew how hard that concession must have been for him to make.

  “Don’t make him jump through any more hoops, Momma,” I said. “Besides, he just told me he’s full.”

  “Speak for yourself, woman,” Jake said with a smile. “I’ve suddenly got all of the room I need.”

  “Pie is served in the main dining hall, then,” my mother said, and we all went in and enjoyed a piece of her warm apple-crisp pie. Her recipe, a closely guarded family secret, was known throughout four counties, and it always drew the highest bidder whenever she baked one for a charity auction.

  When we were finished, Momma started collecting the dishes, and Jake and I rose to help.

  “You two go out and enjoy our lovely weather. I’ll take care of this.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I kissed my mother’s cheek. She knew how much I’d missed Jake, and she was doing everything she could to give us both some privacy.

  “Mrs.… Dorothy, that was delicious,” Jake said.

  My mother laughed robustly. “I’m not sure how I feel about you calling me Mrs. Dorothy, but I suppose it’s a start. Good night, Jake.”

  “Good night, ma’am.”

  Jake and I walked out on the porch and took our places on the porch swing. I’d done the exact same thing with half a dozen boyfriends over the years, including my
ex, Max, but none had been as special to me as this one at this exact moment in time. Jake and I had something that Max and I had never shared; we were close in ways that didn’t require the tumultuous highs and lows that I used to believe true love required. There was a great deal to be said for the steadying feeling of being loved and protected, no matter what.

  I reached out and held Jake’s hand in silent appreciation, happy that we’d been able to come this far in our relationship. We’d encountered some rough patches getting there, and I didn’t doubt that more would come, but it had all been worth it.

  “So, what’s new with you?” Jake asked as we swung gently on the swing.

  I hadn’t said anything about Lester Moorefield yet, not wanting to ruin the evening. “I just want to enjoy tonight. Can we talk about things tomorrow?”

  The chair suddenly stopped swinging. “Suzanne, I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “It’s nothing. Not really. Well, almost nothing.”

  He let go of my hand and looked at me. “That’s not much of an answer, even by your standards. What happened?”

  “There was a murder last night,” I finally admitted.

  Jake’s smile was completely gone now. “Tell me you weren’t involved.”

  “I wasn’t involved,” I answered.

  “Now tell me the truth.”

  “I was involved.”

  Jake let out a breath of air, and then said, “Let’s hear it.”

  I knew this moment of joy had been too good to last. “You’ve heard of Lester Moorefield, right?”

  “We met once. He’s the guy with the radio show, right?”

  “Was. Someone murdered him last night.”

  That piqued Jake’s interest. “How exactly were you involved with that?”

  I bit my lip, and then decided I might as well tell him everything. He’d get it out of me eventually. Jake was too good a cop to just drop it. “Lester broadcast an editorial about the evils of donuts, so naturally I had to have a conversation with him about it after I heard it.”

  Jake looked off into the park for a few moments before he spoke again. “And by conversation, you mean confrontation.”

  “I may have raised my voice once or twice, but what he said on the radio was pretty inflammatory. He called my donuts poison.”

  “Don’t tell me that’s how he died.”

  “No, there wasn’t any poison used,” I answered.

  “At least there’s that,” Jake said.

  “He was strangled, and then someone shoved one of my éclairs down his throat to make their point. It wasn’t pretty.”

  Jake stood, walked to the edge of the porch, and gazed out into the darkness of the park. “Suzanne, how do you keep managing to get yourself in trouble like this?”

  “It’s a gift, I guess. This wasn’t my fault, Jake. I didn’t do it, and it was news to me when the chief sent for me this morning. Now, can we talk about something else and pretend this never happened?”

  “I’m not sure that I can,” he said.

  I patted the seat beside me. “You can at least try.”

  He shrugged, and then took his seat again. “I suppose this makes my next question a moot one.”

  “Who knows? I might surprise you. Go ahead and ask.”

  “Any chance you can take a few days off? I’ve got some vacation time coming, and I thought we might go to Gatlinburg together. There’s a place on a stream I heard about while I was away that sounds perfect.”

  I loved Gatlinburg, Tennessee. There was a chair lift that climbed the mountain that I could ride all day, and they had an aquarium that was one of the best I’d ever been to. I wouldn’t go near the tourist town in the summer, but when the kids were in school, it was a wonderful place to be. I’d shared my fond memories of the place with Jake once. “It’s a sweet thought, but you know I can’t get away.”

  “Suzanne, everyone deserves a vacation, even us. I could book us there in a heartbeat. All you have to do is say yes.”

  “If it were any other time I’d be tempted, but I can’t do it, Jake. I’m sorry.” I kissed him, and then added, “It’s a sweet thought, though.”

  “That’s what I figured, but I wanted to go ahead and ask anyway. Besides Lester, is there anything else going on around here?”

  I’d just about forgotten the juiciest tidbit I’d picked up lately. “Chief Martin’s getting a divorce,” I said.

  “It happens, and more times to cops than most people realize.”

  “He told my mother about it first thing. He’s had a crush on her most of his life, and it appears he’s finally doing something about it.”

  “How does she feel about that?”

  “She’s not happy about his intentions,” I said. “Just between us, I don’t think the chief has a chance.”

  Jake studied me for a moment, and then asked, “Why do you sound so happy when you say that, Suzanne?”

  “I didn’t mean to, but come on; it’s no secret that he’s not my favorite person in the world. Could you imagine him coming around here courting my mother? I’m not sure I could take that, even though I told her that she had my blessing.”

  “Does your blessing really matter, though? She needs to do what’s right for her.”

  I turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Doesn’t your mother deserve another chance at happiness? We can love more than one person in our lives.”

  That reference was to him, not my mother. Jake had lost his wife in a car accident, and his continuing devotion to her had been a major stumbling block for us at first. “I told her the exact same thing. Jake, I have no problem with her dating,” I said. “I’m just not so sure I’m crazy about the idea of her dating him.”

  I caught a glimpse of Jake, and saw that he was smiling.

  “What’s so amusing?”

  “Children aren’t allowed to choose who their parents go out with any more than parents can choose their children’s dates.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” I said. “Ultimately she’ll do whatever she wants, but I’m still not giving the chief much of a chance.”

  “Just don’t try to worsen his odds even more,” Jake said.

  “I won’t do that,” I promised halfheartedly. “As a matter of fact, I’m planning to stay out of it completely.” I started to yawn, but caught it just in time. At least I thought I had.

  Jake stood and stretched, and then said, “I just had a long drive, and it’s getting late. I’d better call it a night.”

  I glanced at my watch. “It’s only eight-thirty.”

  “And a good half hour past your bedtime at that. Don’t worry, we’ll have time to catch up more tomorrow.”

  “Sometimes my working hours are a real curse,” I said as I stood.

  “Don’t worry, it isn’t enough to drive me off.”

  He wrapped me in his arms, and I breathed him in deeply. Not only did I feel safe and warm in his arms, I felt needed, wanted, and loved. It was almost as though we drew energy off each other in moments like this, and I was so glad he’d found his way into my life, and had allowed me to come into his.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, after giving me one final good night kiss.

  “Bright and early?” I asked.

  “For me, not you. I should be by the donut shop around noon.”

  “Coward.” I laughed at him.

  “I like to think of myself as wise. Even if you’re not on vacation, I am. If I don’t take these days, I’ll lose them. I’m going to sleep in, and then try my best not to do anything productive for the next few days.”

  “That sounds like a fine plan to me,” I said.

  “Trust me, I get enough excitement on my day job. Vacation is a time for me to recharge, and I’m in bad need of it at the moment.”

  “I just wish I could join you. I honestly do.”

  “That makes two of us. Don’t worry, there will be other times for us, Suzanne. See you tomorrow.”

&nb
sp; I waved to him, and stood on the porch until he was gone.

  At least Jake hadn’t volunteered to help me find Lester’s killer during his time off. I had no desire to drag him into this. He got enough murder and mayhem in his job, and I didn’t want it to ruin one of his rare vacation days.

  When I walked back inside, Momma was still up. “How nice to have company. Jake looked delighted to see you,” she said as she glanced up from the crossword puzzle she was doing.

  “Believe me, it was mutual,” I said.

  “Of course it was. Will he be able to stay long this time?”

  “He’s taking a few days off,” I admitted.

  “You should, too,” Momma said.

  “That’s what he said, but you know my schedule. I just can’t.”

  She pointed her pencil at me. “You deserve a vacation. If you can’t get anyone else to help out at the donut shop, close it for a few days. Folks can live without your confections for that long.”

  “I can’t afford to,” I said as I started up the stairs.

  “Then I’ll work there.”

  I smiled at her. “I never knew you made donuts,” I said.

  “There are a great many things you don’t know about me.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I need to be there.”

  She frowned at me. “Suzanne, if you are worried about the money, then I’ll cover your losses. There’s more to life than working all of the time.”

  I knew my mother was serious if she was willing to spend that much. “I couldn’t take your money. Besides, I can’t leave for more reasons than that.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  I left the stairs and walked back to her. “Why is this suddenly so important to you? I don’t get it.”

  “I want you to be happy.”

  “Funny, I want the exact same thing for you,” I said. “Tell you what. You go out on a real date, and I’ll take you up on your vacation offer.”

  She shook her head. “My proposal to you isn’t contingent on anything else, and yours shouldn’t be, either. Take it or don’t take it; I won’t allow you to manipulate me like that.”

  “I meant what I said,” I replied as I softened my voice. “I honestly do want you to find some happiness again.”

 

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