When James bit into his own treat, he was astonished to taste a creamy raspberry filling inside the sheet-white dough. He wondered if the cupcakes were Willow’s recipe, Paulette’s, or Mrs. DuPont’s. “Did you taste Willow’s chocolate hearts?” he asked Milla. “Your new shop is going to make a fortune.”
Milla beamed. “I hope so, because we signed a lease this morning. I’m planning on a Valentine’s Day grand opening. What do you think?”
A blast of music from the speakers behind his head prevented James from answering. He recognized the smooth and sonorous voice of Elvis, but couldn’t understand why Scott and Francis were playing “Can’t Help Falling in Love” at a decibel level that was sure to garner everyone’s attention. And then he saw that it wasn’t the twins who were looking for notice, but Principal Luis Chavez.
Standing behind Lindy’s chair, Luis tapped her on the shoulder and when she turned, he got down on one knee and presented her with a single, long-stemmed red rose. He then grasped her arm softly and drew her to her feet. As she gazed around in astonishment, he led her to the front of the room and began to waltz with her.
The guests sipped their coffee and watched the couple move gracefully around a small section of the wooden floor. James met Bennett’s eyes and they exchanged winks. It had been Bennett’s idea to give Luis the red rose along with some friendly advice, and it seemed as though the dashing principal had heeded the mailman’s counsel.
The song came to a gradual end and Luis dipped Lindy low to the ground. Holding her there, he gave her a lingering kiss on the lips. As he raised her up again, the guests clapped and whistled. Milla grabbed Jackson’s hand and then took hold of James’s.
“What a perfect party.” She sighed with contentment.
Suddenly, James realized that Lindy’s dance had distracted him from checking on Chloe’s whereabouts. His stomach lurched as he saw the chair she had occupied during dinner was now vacant.
Slowly rising to his feet, he peered up and down the room, frantically searching for the familiar hue of Chloe’s yellow dress. At that moment, Lucy must have been looking for Chloe too, for when her eyes met James’s, they were bright with fear.
The party was over.
Chloe was gone.
The Diva’s Praline Pecan Cake—Shortcut Version
For candied pecans
1 egg white
1 cup pecan halves
1⁄3 cup granulated sugar
1⁄3 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
For cake
One box Butter Pecan or Spice cake mix
For praline icing
1 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
1⁄2 cup butter
1⁄4 cup whole milk
1 cup confectioners’ sugar, sifted
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Make the candied pecans first. Whisk the egg white until foamy; add the pecans, and stir until they are evenly coated. Stir together the granulated and brown sugar, and sprinkle it over the pecans. Again stir gently until the pecans are evenly coated. Spread the pecans in a single layer on a lightly greased baking sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for 18 to 20 minutes or until the pecans are toasted and dry, stirring once after 10 minutes. Remove the pecans from oven, and let them cool completely.
Make the cake as directed on the box. Spoon the batter into a greased and floured 12-cup bundt pan. (Willow prefers PAM Baking cooking spray.)
Prepare the praline icing: Bring the first three ingredients to a boil in a saucepan over medium heat, whisking constantly. Boil for 1 minute. Remove the mixture from the heat. Whisk in the confectioners’ sugar and vanilla until smooth. Stir gently 3 to 5 minutes or until the mixture begins to cool and thicken. Spoon it immediately over the cake.
Top cake with Candied Pecans. If you have extra, put them in the freezer and snack on them for the next three weeks.
Lucy broke eye contact with James and flew for the door leading out of the fellowship hall. As she moved, James saw her reach into her purse for her radio. By the time she brought the device to her lips, Deputy Truett was already reacting. He had noticed her abrupt departure and was following closely on her heels.
Milla and Jackson had left their table in order to say goodnight to their guests. Several women, who were both Milla’s friends and members of the church, were collecting the heavy-duty plastic dinner plates and taking them into the kitchen to be rinsed and placed in the recycling bin.
James found that he was frozen into a state of inaction. He had no idea what to do, and there was such a sudden flurry of movement in the room that he couldn’t concentrate enough to come up with a plan. Between the guests making preparations to leave, the women cleaning up, the removal of the food trays, and the music pulsing in the background, the cacophony prevented him from having a single intelligent thought.
“Think! Think!” he muttered under his breath. “I’m sure the deputies have the outside covered, but what if Chloe’s still somewhere in the building? We need to split up and search. Yes! Splitting up is key.”
Hustling toward Chloe’s seat, James noticed that her purse still hung from the back of her chair. Aunt Wheezie was standing by the punch table, ladling herself a serving of the spiked version. James noted that the old woman did not seem disturbed, but he’d need to ask her if she knew where Chloe went before he went running around the rest of the church. He picked up Chloe’s bag and headed toward Wheezie, but Lindy and Luis jumped out of their chairs and blocked his path.
“This has been the best party ever!” Lindy beamed and took her man’s hand in her own. “Luis and I—”
“Listen!” James interrupted crisply. “Chloe’s gone. Can you check both restrooms? If she’s not there, try every closet, every door, every pew in this building.”
“Oh, Lord!” Lindy’s hands flew to her cheeks. “I completely forgot about her! When we were dancing I just …”
James touched her arm. “We were all distracted, but hurry up now.”
Gillian and Bennett were observant enough to know something was amiss. They intercepted James, and Gillian reached out and took Chloe’s purse from his hands. She inspected the contents and frowned.
“Her wallet’s in here and the keys to her rental car,” Gillian’s lips formed a thin line of worry. “What would have coaxed her from the room without her purse? Women rarely leave their valuables unattended, even in a place of worship.” Her eyes traveled toward the kitchen. “There’s a back door off the kitchen, right?”
“But Donovan can see that exit from his car,” James replied argumentatively. “She couldn’t have been taken that way. Keep Chloe’s bag for me. I’m going to talk to Wheezie. Maybe she knows something.”
“We’ll check out that back exit,” Bennett grabbed Gillian by the elbow. “With all this snow, Chloe would’ve left a trail of footprints even Dummy Donovan could follow.”
People tried to stop James on his way to the punch table to congratulate him on a wonderful party, but he only cast brief smiles their way and did not pause to speak or shake hands with anyone. He left a wake of bewildered guests as he traversed the room.
Wheezie was placidly refilling her cup by the time he finally reached her. When she turned to look at James, he saw a mad glint to her eyes that sent a shiver up his neck. She knew about Chloe, he was certain of it. She knew and didn’t seem to care.
“Aunt Wheezie. Are you okay?” he asked, studying her carefully.
“’Course. Why wouldn’t I be? It’s such a nice party and I love balloons. And cupcakes. Yummy.”
And punch¸ James thought ungraciously. “Have you seen Chloe?”
The old woman shrugged and used the ladle to push around the orange slices floating on the surface of the crimson punch. “Nope. I’m sure she’s around and about.”
“She left her purse on her chair and the party’s breaking up,” he pointed out impatiently. “We should find her so you two can head back to the hotel. You both have early flights tomorrow, r
ight?”
Wheezie moved to take a sip of punch, but before her lips closed around the rim, James could have sworn he saw them form a grin. “Up with the rooster. Cock-a-doodle-do!”
“How are you going to get to the airport?” James inquired flatly, though anger was flaring within him. “Is Russ DuPont going to drive you? Or will the two of you forget about flying and just take his car back to Natchez?”
“Oh! Smart boy!” Wheezie replied with a crooked smile and poked him on the chest.
Repelled by her yellow teeth, which were partially stained pink by punch, James backed away from her a fraction. “You’ve been involved all along,” he whispered in mounting horror. “You and Russ have worked together from day one, haven’t you?”
Wheezie sipped her punch and hummed “Itsy Bitsy Spider.”
James recalled the old woman’s warped eulogy at Paulette’s memorial service. “You weren’t kidding about dancing on your sister’s grave. You were never honestly interested in forgiveness. Your visit was all about revenge, and you got it.” Wheezie’s face was impassive. “And Russ DuPont got his too, didn’t he? Did you know his grandmother?”
“Sure did. Delightful woman. Poor as a church mouse when she passed.” She held out a glass of punch to James, and he reached for it without being aware that he did so. “Patty wrecked that whole family, same as she ruined ours. But it’s all done now. All done!” She clinked her cup against James’s and some punch sloshed onto her white blouse, blemishing the fabric with red.
Spurred by a righteous fury, James ripped the cup from her hand and tossed it on the table. “Where is Chloe, Wheezie?”
“In heaven maybe,” the old woman answered. “Or maybe not. Don’t really know the girl.”
“And you?” he hissed at her. “People are never too old to go to prison. You could make things better for yourself if you help me save her! She did nothing to you, Wheezie,” he pleaded. “She’s an innocent.”
“That dirty money would’ve turned her into Patty sooner or later. Look at that miserable son of hers. Breakin’ the hearts of his wife and kids. Patty’s bad blood flowed in him and in the daughter. Now the girl’ll go to the Lord without bein’ tainted.”
“And how will you and Russ go to Him?” James snarled, pointing at the cross in the nearest stained glass window.
“I reckon we’ve suffered enough and the wrongs done against us will show up in heaven’s book. There’s bound to be a scale to measure such things.” Wheezie picked up her glass again. “Reckon I’ll know soon enough anyhow. See, dear boy, that nasty, nasty cancer runs in our family. Daddy had it in his lungs, Mama had it in her womb, and I’ve got it up here.” She tapped the side of her head and issued another twisted smile. “Not much longer left for me now. They can put me in a cell, a hospital bed, down a hole … it don’t matter. My hourglass is runnin’ dry.”
“What about … ?” James searched his memory for a name, desperate to find something, anything that would convict Wheezie to tell him where Russ had taken Chloe. “Alberto!” He shouted. “Won’t Alberto be upset when he learns you let an innocent young woman die!”
Wheezie’s mask slipped and all traces of her joker smile vanished. “Al’s gone.”
“So you were never together? That was all a lie?”
The old woman’s face crumpled. “He got married when I was about twenty-two. Had a bunch of kids and lived right down the street and I loved him the whole time. Once I gave him my heart, it was his.” Her eyes were filled with pain. “Not long ago, he moved away. I had nothin’ left to live for. Not even the sight of him walkin’ outside to collect his mail.”
Her suffering was palpable. Even though he struggled against the feelings of pity that rose within him, he couldn’t help but wish Wheezie’s life had turned out differently. Betrayed by her own sister, she had lived out the rest of her days as a lonely, bitter woman, and during her time in Natchez, she had somehow made a connection with another victim of Paulette Martin’s duplicity. Perhaps Wheezie’s discovery that she had a terminal form of brain cancer came at the same time as Milla’s invitation to join her in Quincy’s Gap to celebrate her wedding. The old woman probably viewed the situation as providential, and she and Russ had acted immediately, obtaining him a position at the goat farm so that he might create bacteria-laden chicken eggs.
“How did you make sure Russ and Milla would cross paths?” he asked.
“Russ talked to her outside the grocery store. He’d worked on a bunch of farms in Mississippi and knew his stuff. Made some goat’s milk samples and handed ’em out when Milla went shoppin’. He knew she’d be there ’cause he followed her.” Wheezie snorted. “I just love her purple van. So, so pretty. And makin’ bad eggs is easy. Start with bad hens, let the eggs sit in poop, and smear on some turtle dung for extra measure.”
James recalled the website’s warning about reptiles carrying the salmonella bacteria. The image of the pair of turtle shells resting on the wood pile outside the cabin at the Cornflower Goat Farm made him shiver.
Yet Wheezie’s mention of her youngest sister gave James an idea, a definitive line of attack. “What about Milla? Your sweet, lovable sister, who has done nothing to harm you or Russ, is bearing the brunt of your selfish actions. Sure, Paulette hurt you. No one could argue that she did you a great wrong, but you’re destroying Milla’s happiness because you’re hell-bent on revenge.” Pointing at Milla as she hugged one of her students, James growled, “Does she deserve this misery?”
Wheezie waved decisively in her sister’s direction. “Milla was always sugar and spice and everything nice. I can’t help that she wanted to be friends with Patty or that these things had to be tidied up durin’ her weddin’.” She sighed heavily. “I’m wore out, boy. No more talkin’ now. I’m gonna sit back in my chair until they come for me.”
And with that, she shuffled back to her seat, looking older than she had at the beginning of the party. There was a sickly, almost greenish tinge to her skin, and the loose skin below her eyes seemed almost bruised.
Once again, James’s feet seemed glued to the floor.
“James!” Lucy yelled as she rushed back into the hall. “We’ve got Chloe! She’s all right!”
Running toward his friend, James gripped her by the hand. “What happened?”
Lucy breathed in a deep draught of air and then expelled it. “Russ was hiding in Milla’s van. Someone must have taken the keys from her purse and hid them somewhere where he could get them. Chloe believed she was needed to carry a wedding gift to the van, but when she opened the rear doors, Russ pulled her inside, tied her up, and drove off.”
“What was Donovan doing?” James spluttered. “Taking a nap?”
“Chasing a red herring,” Lucy answered. “Russ gave a teenage boy fifty bucks to wear a hooded sweatshirt and slink around the perimeter of the church. Donovan was on him like sugar on a donut.”
Cocking his head at the odd expression, James momentarily lost his train of thought.
“So Russ made his getaway, but he didn’t get far.” Lucy seemed reluctant to deliver a more explicit explanation.
“Why not?” James demanded.
“Lottie heard Donovan screaming into his radio and, thinking she’d heard a future headline coming across her scanner, jumped in her car and headed over here like an Indy driver on uppers.” Lucy edged her way to the punch bowl. “We got lucky, because her maniacal driving caused her to crash into the van. Not hard, mind you, but with enough force to send Russ into a ditch. The sheriff heard the noise, radioed us, and we got there in time to apprehend our murderer. Donovan actually got to perform a piledriver on the guy.”
Absurdly, James looked out the nearest window, but couldn’t see a thing through the tinted glass. “Where is Russ now?”
Lucy scowled. “With Huckabee. The sheriff wants to play the hero this time. It’s an election year, after all.” Serving herself some virgin punch, she drank down a cupful in several thirsty swallows. “Of course Donovan�
��s there too.”
James pulled a chair over to the table, sank into it, and served himself a full glass of spiked punch. “You’ve still got a major role to perform, Lucy. Huckabee’s only got one of two guilty parties down at the station.” He quickly explained Wheezie’s role in the killings.
“Some dying wish,” Lucy mumbled when he was through. “Her sister invited her to a wedding and she came to seek out revenge? Aren’t people supposed to live their last days giving to charities, jumping out of airplanes, and making peace with enemies?”
“In a perfect world, yes.” James slurped more punch, welcoming the warmth the champagne and brandy were creating in his stomach. A third glass should knock out the jitters, he thought and poured again.
Lucy placed her hand on James’s shoulder. “This will be the hardest arrest I’ve ever made.”
James was surprised by this statement. “Why? She’s expecting it. I doubt she’s going to struggle or make a dash for the back door.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Lucy’s blue eyes were sorrowful. “I’ve got to bring an old, dying woman to jail. A woman who’s wasted her life because of some man.” She removed her hand from James’s arm. “That’ll never be me, I tell you. My life belongs to nobody else but me.”
James watched her walk away. He reflected that he couldn’t agree with Lucy’s sentiment, as he wanted nothing more than to belong with someone and to have that person belong with him. He wanted to need someone, to love someone so completely that he wasn’t fulfilled without that person nearby.
Eliot’s sweet face rose in his mind, and James felt revitalized by the mere thought of him.
Searching for Jackson and Milla, James saw them standing near the doorway, speaking to Lindy, Gillian, and Bennett.
“My family,” he whispered. “I’d be nothing without them. Nothing at all.”
The Battered Body Page 28