“You know, we have quite a few hours until we have to be there for the contest. If you want to do something, like go fishing, you have plenty of time.”
“I can go grab both of our poles if you want to join me.”
Moira wrinkled her nose. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy catching the fish, it was everything that came after.
“I might join you later, but not right now. You should go, though, if you want to.”
“Would you be all right? I don’t want to leave you and Candice hanging.”
“I think I’m going to grab a book and read for a while. I might take a walk later, if you want to join me then.”
“I will, and when Candice gets up, I’ll start making breakfast. Until then, I’ll sit out here and see if the fish are biting.”
After breakfast, the three of them went their separate ways; David, to see if the fish were biting off the dock, Candice to her room to finish the book that she was reading, and Moira went on a leisurely walk with the dogs.
As she was returning to the cottage, someone came out of the neighboring house and called out to her. It was Melissa, the woman who had introduced herself the day before.
“I was just about to head over and see if you were home,” she said. “My husband and I have to rush out of town due to a family emergency, and we’ll likely be gone overnight. Jillian is planning on staying here. Would you mind just keeping an eye on her? I know she’s technically an adult, but I always worry, and I would feel better knowing that someone is watching out for her.”
“Of course,” Moira said. “I’ll give you my number and you can tell her to call if she needs anything. I’ll keep an eye on the house this evening too.”
“Thank you so much,” Melissa said. “Have a happy Fourth!”
By the time it was time to go into town to begin the pie making contest, Moira felt more relaxed than she had in a long time. So far, their vacation had been everything that she had expected, and more.
They arrived at the beach shortly before two so Candice and Moira could pick up their information packet and team number for the pie contest. While they were waiting in line at the tent, Moira struck up a conversation with the two women they had seen the day before. They turned out to both be contestants in the contest as well.
“This is the tenth year in a row that we’ve had this contest,” the younger sister, Regina, said. “Last year, it was pecan pie. The fruit pies are always people’s favorites, though. This year, all of the cherries come from orchards in Michigan. This will be our fifth year competing. We won the last three years in a row.”
“That’s impressive. I guess we know who we have to beat now,” Moira said.
Regina laughed. “It really isn’t that impressive. Most of the people who enter into the contest just do it for fun. Some have never even made a pie before in their lives.”
“At least they’re having fun.”
“True,” the other woman replied with a smile. “I suppose that is the point of all of this.”
After picking up the packet of instructions, Moira and Candice followed the other contestants to the community building where the kitchen was located. It was a standard industrial kitchen, the sort that reminded Moira of her time on the cruise ship the year before. The dishes and dry ingredients were already set out on the counter in stations for them. It’s been a while since I’ve made a pie, she thought. Hey, there’s an idea for the deli; little bite sized pies and cheesecakes. We could use the same molds that we use for the quiches.
She made a mental note to bounce the idea off of Darrin when she got back home. They really could use more of a dessert menu, and there were a lot of options for seasonal pies.
Moira and Candice found the pie station that matched the number they had been assigned and waited near it while the other contestants trickled in and the room gradually filled up. A few minutes past two, a very squat man with grey hair walked into the room and the noise of conversation halted. This must be one of the judges, she thought.
“Welcome to the tenth annual Fireworks Pie Contest,” the man said once the room was quiet. “For those of you that don’t know me, I am Marshall Miller, the mayor of Bearpaw. No need to be formal, feel free to call me Marshall or Mr. Miller, whichever you are comfortable with. Does everyone understand the rules?”
There were nods all around. Moira and Candice had read through the brief list of rules that they had found in their packet. They were all pretty straightforward; things like no phones in the kitchen, no touching the ingredients until the contest officially began, and no approaching another team’s station.
“Good. If there aren’t any questions, then let’s skip straight to the main event. Begin making your pies!”
Moira and her daughter had worked together at the deli for quite a while in the years past, and they worked well together now. The deli owner started on the crust while Candice made the filling. The recipe that Moira was using for the crust was from her grandmother, and it always produced a flaky, melt-in-your-mouth crust that people couldn’t get enough of.
Once she had formed the dough into balls, she wrapped them in plastic wrap and put them in the freezer to chill while she cleaned up the mess she had made and helped Candice finish the sweet cherry filling. Her daughter was used to making candy that required close attention while it was on the stove, and she seemed to be giving the same care to the pie filling.
"I hope this turns out well," she said. "I have had some pies that didn’t have very much flavor, and I hope this doesn’t end up the same way. At least I know how to make a reduction without burning anything.”
“It’s going to be perfect,” Moira said. “I can already tell.”
"It’s just about ready to pour into the pie dish. Is the crust ready?”
“I just have to roll it out. Hopefully it’s had long enough to chill.”
She got the two lumps of dough out of the freezer. After the bottom half had been rolled out and pressed into the dish, she began rolling out the top crust. At the last second, she decided to do a lattice top crust instead of a solid one. One thing that running the deli had taught her was that presentation went a long way towards making people like the food. No matter how something tasted, if it looked unappealing, it wouldn’t be winning any awards. It worked the same the other way around, of course. Food that looked great but tasted terrible wouldn’t do much to keep her customers coming back for more.
After Candice poured the filling over the bottom crust, she helped her mother weave the strips of dough over the top to for a nice, uniform grid over the pie. They sprinkled some sugar over the top, then stepped back to look at their creation before putting it into the oven to bake.
While they waited, they worked together to finish cleaning up their station. Moira began to check on the pie, and when it was the perfect golden color, she took it out. The filling was still bubbling slowly as she set it on a rack to cool.
"It turned out so well," Candice said. "I can't wait to taste it. What do you think?"
"I think it’s the best-looking pie that I’ve ever made. Even if we don’t win, at least we’ll know that we gave it our best try. Come on, let’s bring this out to the judges and go find David.”
After dropping the pie off at the judges’ table on the beach, they located Moira’s husband. He had taken the time to lay down a pair of large towels and set up the folding chairs that they had brought, so that they would have a beautiful view of the fireworks later that evening. Keeva and Maverick were with him, laying patiently on the towels in the sand. Judging from their wet fur, they had already taken a swim in the lake.
"How did it go?" David asked them. “Is it time for the judges to start trying the pies?”
“Just about. I think we might actually have a chance. Ours looked perfect when it came out of the oven.”
They grabbed the dogs and then made their way back up the beach towards the tent that had been set up for the pie making contest. The last few contestants were bringing
their pies out as they drew near. Before long, the judging was underway. Moira held her breath when the judges reached their pie. She wished that they would say something; the anticipation was killing her.
At last, it was time for them to announce the winners. They began with the runners up. “Third place is Grace Johnson.”
Moira and Candice clapped along with the rest of the crowd and watched as the woman walked up to accept the gift certificate to the local bakery.
“Second place goes to Regina and Linette Meyers.”
The deli owner clapped even harder. Those were the two women that had helped her and Candice sign up the day before.
“And first place goes to… Moira and Candice Darling!”
It took Moira a second for what the judge had said to sink in. They had done it. They had won. As the clapping exploded around them, she and Candice hurried forward to accept the gift certificate, the medal, and the free pie from the bakery that they had won. Moira couldn’t stop grinning.
With the judging done, people began to push forward to buy slices of pie. The deli owner saw Candice slip into the crowd. She returned a moment later with a slice of pie for each of them.
“As the winning pie, I thought it would probably be gone pretty soon. Here you go,” she said, handing plates to her mother and step-father.
“Congratulations to both of you,” David said. “I knew you would win. You’re two of the best chefs that I know.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Moira said. “But it was fun. I’m glad you convinced us to enter into the contest.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the small town on foot. As the sun began to set and evening came, they settled down on the chairs that David had set up, each of them eating a corn dog that they had bought from a food truck. The dogs had each gotten a plain hot dog, but had already wolfed them down.
As it began to get truly dark, a silence fell over the crowd on the beach. All of their attention was turned towards the boat in the lake from which the fireworks were being launched. No one made a sound as the first firework was lit. When it exploded in a shower of red sparks, applause burst out up and down the beach. Moira reached her hand out and interlaced her fingers with David’s. She sighed as she looked up at the sky. She didn't think that she had ever been happier.
As they pulled away from the beach on their way back to the cottage that night after the fireworks, Moira gazed out the passenger side window at the stars. It was a beautiful night, even without the multicolored explosions dominating the view.
A vehicle pulled out behind them and the headlights glared off of the side mirror. She straightened up and blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots from her vision. She waited for the car to turn onto another road so she could continue watching the sky, but the lights stayed with them until they reached their cottage. The car slowed, then suddenly sped up and passed them just before David turned into the driveway.
CHAPTER FIVE
* * *
They all slept late the next morning. Moira got up the earliest, thanks to Maverick pressing his cold nose into her cheek. After she took the dogs outside, she cut herself a small slice of the pie that they had won in the contest and sat at the kitchen table to eat it. Her husband joined her before she had finished
“Pie for breakfast,” he said. “It’s like a dream come true. You forgot the coffee though.”
“I was thinking of making bacon and eggs,” Moira told him. “The pie was good, but now I want something other than sugar to eat.”
“That sounds good to me. Bacon, eggs… and pie.” He grinned. “You can’t beat that for breakfast. I’ll get the coffee started, then go take a quick shower.”
Moira grabbed the bacon from the fridge and started laying it out in the pan. She heard the shower turn on in the other room, and hoped her husband would be quick as he had promised. Bacon and eggs was a breakfast best eaten hot.
While the bacon sizzled, she walked down the hall and knocked on her daughter’s door. Candice muttered sleepily from the other side.
“I’m making breakfast, sweetie. We’re going to eat in about ten minutes. Why don’t you come out and join us? You can go back to bed after if you’d like, but we should plan what we want to do today.”
“Call me when it’s ready,” her daughter mumbled.
Moira returned to the kitchen and turned the strips of bacon over, then began cracking eggs into a different pan. David rejoined her just as the last egg began to turn white.
“I don’t know if we’ll be able to eat all of those,” he said. “It looks like you’re cooking for an army.”
“I thought I’d run over and see if Jillian wants to join us,” she told him. “She’s all alone there, and she might want some company for breakfast. Do you mind? If you’d rather, I could just bring over a plate of food.”
“She’s welcome here. The more the merrier.”
“Will you watch the food? I got plates out already, I just don’t want anything to burn. I’ll be right back.”
“Go ahead, I’ll take over.”
Moira let the screen door close on its own behind her as she went out onto the porch and then across the lawn to the neighboring house. She knocked on the door and waited, but there was no answer.
I hope she’s not still sleeping, she thought. She tried knocking one more time, and when no one came to the door, she turned to go. She had her foot on the first step down the stairs that led off the deck when something caught her eye. It was a dark brownish red smear about the size of a thumb print on the porch railing.
She went to take a closer look, and with a horrible feeling in her stomach, she realized that she recognized the color of dried blood. She probably just cut her finger on something, she thought, trying to reassure herself. It didn’t work.
She turned back to the door, and this time saw something that she had missed before; a larger smear of blood half under the bottom of the door. It looked like a footprint, like someone had stepped in blood and had tracked it out onto the deck on accident.
With her heart pounding now, she knocked again. There was still no answer. Beginning to feel seriously frightened, she approached the dark window and peered inside. What she saw made her gasp as if she had been punched in the gut. On the living room floor was a young woman with blond hair about Candice’s age, lying in a pool of blood.
Moira rushed back to the door and tried the handle. It wasn’t locked, and the door swung open. She rushed inside and knelt by the body. Even without touching her, she knew that it was too late. The young woman was far beyond help.
“No, no, this can’t be happening.”
The gruesome murder scene was like something out of a nightmare. When she opened her eyes again, the body was still there. Choking back her tears, Moira turned and fled from the house.
When she pushed through the door to their own cottage, David was working over the stove, humming as he turned over the slices of bacon. It seemed surreal after the scene that she had just witnessed. He glanced back at her, smiled, then turned back to the pan. Moira opened and closed her mouth, unable to get the words out.
"David…" she managed at last. "David, she’s dead."
He turned around, the smile still on his face. "What?" he asked.
"She’s dead," she repeated. The smile slowly faded from his lips as her words sunk in.
"What?" he asked again, his voice sharper.
“Jillian. She’s dead,” she said for the third time. “I saw her, on the living room floor. There was blood –“
She started crying then. She didn't know how to express what she had seen, the sheer horror of it. The young woman had looked so much like her own daughter.
"Moira, what are you talking about?" he said, taking a step towards her. "I’m going over there, right now."
They went over to the neighbor’s house together. Moira waited outside, unable to face what was inside for a second time. Maybe I imagined it, she thought. Maybe I’m going insane. T
hat seemed like the better option to her.
Unfortunately, she was still very sane. David returned just minutes later, and she could see in his eyes the same horror and shock that she felt.
"We have to call the police," he said, hurrying back towards their own cottage. “I checked the rest of the house. There’s no one else, but the place has been ransacked.” She trailed behind him. When she walked into the kitchen, he was already talking on the phone. She was glad that he was the one who had made the call. She was still far too shocked to think clearly.
Candice. Candice was still in her room, she didn't know any of this was happening. She needed to be told before the police got there.
Pies, Lies and Murder (The Darling Deli Series Book 22) Page 3