Killer Instincts and Savory Pie
By Angela C Blackmoore
Copyright 2018 by Angela C Blackmoore, All Rights Reserved
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real persons, events, or places are purely coincidental. All rights reserved.
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Table of Contents
Killer Instincts and Savory Pie
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Author’s Notes
Chapter 1
Abby wrinkled up her mouth as she pulled the first pie out of the oven. It smelled wonderful, but it didn’t look very good with the collapsed center. “Ugh,” she said before putting it on the cooling mat. “What did I do wrong this time?”
Hazel smiled and waved her hands in the air in a dismissive manner. “Nothing at all. Sometimes air bubbles happen and cause small collapses. That’s why we made two. Go on, pull the other one out. I would bet it’s going to be better.”
Abby nodded, pulling the rack out a little further and seeing the second pie emerge from the back. It revealed a pristine, beautifully layered golden brown checkerboard pattern with a dark bluish-purple color peeking through the lattice. Gentle wafts of steam drifted off of the top, and the delicious aroma only increased in intensity. Abby’s smile beamed as she placed it next to the other, less-than-perfect attempt.
“There you go, Abby. All ready for the competition.” Hazel said, rubbing Abby’s back as they both admired the pies. “We’ll let it sit for a bit and then put it in the carrier before we go. We’ve already registered so we’ll get to the church in plenty of time.”
“I don’t stand a chance against you,” Abby said with a wry smile. “Or anyone else that’s been baking for half-a-century.”
“Abby, winning is not the point,” Hazel said as she moved over to her well-used teapot, pouring a cup before sitting down at the kitchen table. “Well, not entirely the point. Winning is always nice, but if you’re just beginning, you can’t expect to win, but you can expect to get experience. Also, it’s just fun to sit and gab with everyone while the judges feed their faces.”
Abby laughed along with Hazel, nodding. “I think I’m just nervous. I would never have imagined a year ago I’d be in a pie baking competition.”
“But here you are! It’s one part of being in a small town that I love. Part of the experience of life that I think a lot of people miss in the big cities,” Hazel said as she took a sip. “Not everyone, but I suspect it’s just too easy to not become involved with your local community.”
Abby nodded as she poured her own tea, putting a bit of milk in it before she joined Hazel at the table. “I couldn’t agree more, and I was one of them. At least for a little while.”
“What did you and Dan do for fun?” Hazel asked carefully. It had been easier for Abby to talk about things concerning her dead husband but it still caused some twinges.
“Fishing or camping. BBQ’s over at a friend’s house. It sounds so normal to me.”
“But not a ton of community stuff?” Hazel asked. “There are people in our town that keep to themselves, too, but it is just so easy to get involved here. Either way, I wouldn’t trade it in for anything, although this life isn’t for everyone.”
“You mean like your daughter?”
Hazel nodded. “Yes, Dan’s mother. Deanna was a ‘smart cookie’ by every sense of the word, but she was never happy here. I always knew she would leave Red Pine Falls one day.”
“Do you resent that?” Abby asked after a moment had passed.
Hazel shook her head immediately. “No, not even a little. Not anymore. I did a little in the beginning when she told me her plans after college, but it wasn’t long afterward that I made peace with it. She’s happy now, and that’s what is important to me.”
“I only met her a few times when Dan and I went to go visit her up in Seattle and then at Dan’s funeral. Honestly, I didn’t really ever get to know her. Dan never seemed comfortable around her although she was always…polite.”
“Stiff, you mean?” Hazel said wryly. “I know Deanna loved Dan, but I think she had difficulty showing it. That, and she was always very career driven. She raised Dan by herself, though she had nannies to always step in when things became too messy. All in all, I think Dan turned out fairly well.”
“He was a good man,” Abby said somewhat misty-eyed. “I do miss him.”
“I know, dear,” Hazel said, taking her hand and squeezing it.
A moment later the kitchen door opened with Mr. Wilberson on the other side. He stomped his boots on the deck, shaking off a few leaves before entering and closing the door. “Ready to go?” he asked in a craggy-voiced grumble. If Abby hadn’t slowly gotten to know the man, she would have thought he was eternally grumpy, but that was only half right. Hazel had described his attitude as ‘stoic’ which Abby would now agree with. She had seen him smile, but it was as rare as a sunny day in winter.
“Oh, now, you don’t get to rush us, dear,” Hazel said, half-seriously. “I’m still upset with you over what you did to those two young people you found on the island.”
“Heh,” Mr. Wilberson half-chuckled. “Well, let me know when you’re ready to go. I’ll be out in the garage.”
“No, we’re ready to go now. Let me just put the pies in the carrier.” Hazel and Abby both got up and busied themselves with the containers. They put the pies inside and closed the lids to keep in the warmth.
Mr. Wilberson just rolled his eyes, being careful not to let either woman see his expression and then waited patiently for them to finish getting the pies ready. He then followed them out to the purple PT Cruiser parked out in front. He would have offered to carry the pies but knew Hazel wouldn’t hear of it.
Still, Abby knew that Hazel and Mr. Wilberson weren’t serious in their well-worn banter. In fact, it made for a pleasant ride into town. Hazel did most of the talking, and Mr. Wilberson did little of it, but he listened and nodded at the right times which was all that Hazel needed. They had been together for a lot of years, though it had been under a thinly veiled guise of employer and handyman.
Despite their love for one another, they had both thought the other might have been involved in the disappearance or death of Hazel’s troublesome brother. Too afraid of the truth to broach it, they lived in silent company for decades until Rob had turned up alive. Now, Abby was thrilled that they were fiancés and would be married sometime this year during the summer.
Now knowing what to expect, she was surprised and delighted to find the church parking lot full of people moving and chatting with each other. It was a picturesque scene straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. They moved in toward the wide double-doors with smiles and a variety of pie containers and
Saran Wrap. All of it made Abby feel at home as she, Hazel, and even the stoic Mr. Wilberson joined the happy crowds meandering into the church.
Chapter 2
Abby was nervous, but with a veteran of the pie competitions like Hazel by her side, she had nothing to worry about. Abby had been slowly meeting the local congregation over the past few weeks, but this was the first big purely social event she’d had a chance to attend. Most of the people were pleasant, and only a few seemed to still have some hard feelings over her solidarity with the mayor against the struggling Red Pine Falls Urban Renewal Association.
The Association had been established to take advantage of some supposedly free money being offered by the Foundation for Oregon Urban Renewal backed by Senator Clark. It had all been an impossible-to-prove scam that had been engineered to put pressure on the town that would eventually bring down the mayor.
Through dubious luck, the sinister plot had been foiled after the untimely death of Don Buckshire. Although the Mayor was no longer under threat, the town itself had been the victim of numerous construction and improvement projects with no money to pay for them. The fallout resulted in numerous suits and liens that were choking the town.
Still, Abby wasn’t going to let it ruin her day and keyed off of Hazel who just ignored the nasty stares. With pride, Abby received her judge's sheet and number, placing her blackberry pie on the groaning tables that were already full of the sweet deserts.
Hazel had done a strawberry and rhubarb pie. Something Abby had never had nor heard of until arriving at Red Pine Falls. She had loved it the first time Hazel had set the piece of pie in front of her. Rhubarb, the strange, leafy plant reminded her of giant reddish-green celery, but once cooked it complimented the sweetness of strawberries perfectly.
Once she’d placed her pie alongside the others, Abby stood back and compared her entry to the pies nearest to it. She was surprised to see that it didn’t stand out in a negative way. In fact, she was pretty proud of how it looked. Hazel had shown her how to do several little tricks to give her pie a delicate, golden brown crust with beautiful sprinkles of partially caramelized sugar. Something Abby had only ever seen on the covers of cooking magazines at the checkout line. She had never ever imagined doing it herself. Now there it was. Perhaps not a winner, but certainly a worthy entry.
“Abby!” came a voice from behind her. One she recognized immediately as belonging to her boss and best friend, Becky. “Oh my goodness! Your pie looks wonderful! I hereby offer my services as a taste tester!”
“Ha, ha,” Abby quipped, turning and putting her hands on her hips. “You’re not touching this pie! I worked my fingers to the bone to make it. There’s another Frankenstein pie at home that you’re welcome to.”
“Frankenstein? That sounds so appetizing!” Becky said, laughing as she gave Abby a warm hug before turning back toward the table and putting her hand on her hips. “How do you think you did? It looks good.”
“I think I’ve done okay for my first competition. I doubt I’ll win in my category, but I do have the princess of pies as a grandmother. I’m sure some of that has to wash off, right?”
“I totally agree. Also, I claim the second piece after the judges are done with it. I am so not going to have a piece of anything called Frankenstein no matter how good it is. Bosses privilege.”
Abby grinned and nodded, holding her hand out for a shake with her friend. “Done. Besides, I owe you for letting me have today off.”
“Yes, you do!” Becky said. “Also, Angie is working out quite well.”
“How is she doing?” Abby asked, curious about Becky’s newest employee. The single mother had done well with both Abby and Becky there, but today was the first time she’d been left alone for a few hours. With the pie competition, business was going to be slow, but Becky wouldn’t have left the woman alone if she hadn’t have had confidence in her.
“Good. She’s good with the customers and responsible. I’m very happy with her so far.”
“And she needed the job,” Abby finished, proud of her friend for taking the chance on the woman. Her husband had left her suddenly, and with three kids, Angie had needed a job sooner than later.
“Excuse me, Becky?”
Abby and Becky turned, seeing a familiar face. Red Carthridge stood there holding his hat and looking very worried. He was the nicer half of the couple that ran the feed and grain store just on the edge of town. When Abby had first met them, Red had been very polite, but his wife Francine had been anything but. She had also been one of the driving forces behind pushing the Association’s agenda in the town before Don Buckshire’s death.
“Red?” Becky answered, immediately concerned. “What’s wrong?”
The man looked uncomfortable, his eyes squinting as he looked around once before talking. “Have you seen Francine, by any chance?”
Becky shook her head. “No, I just got here,” she said, then turned to her friend. “Abby?”
“I’ve only been here for about twenty minutes, but I was busy registering,” Abby said. “Maybe she’s out in the hallway talking to someone?”
Red shook his head. “No, I just came from there and peeked into the main chapel. I didn’t see her, but her car is in the parking lot.”
“Why don’t you just call her cell phone,” Becky asked.
“I did that, but she’s not answering,” Red answered. “We kind of had an argument yesterday, and she didn’t come home last night. I didn’t think it was that bad, but I guess I was wrong.”
“What did you argue about?” Abby asked, curiously. She had only met Red a few times, and he’d always seemed to be a fairly mild man, but maybe he wasn’t like that in private.
“That Urban Renewal Association she’s part of,” Red answered. “She had a meeting last night with the rest of them, but it’s a lost cause. I don’t know why Francine and the rest of them are trying to keep it alive. The state folks won’t even return their calls anymore.”
Abby and Becky exchanged glances but didn’t make their feelings known. It was clear that Red was the more sensible of the two, and to hear that there were a few people still trying to make the association work was disturbing. “We can help you look for her if you want?” Abby offered. She didn't intend to talk to Francine since the woman didn’t like her, but she’d be happy to point Red in her direction.
“Would you? That would be helpful,” Red said with a note of relief in his voice.
The three of them began to look around with Red covering the main rooms, and the two women searching the various sub-rooms and meeting rooms scattered in the community center section of the church. It wasn’t a huge complex, but large enough that it would take them about half an hour to be thorough.
“I hope she’s not sleeping with some guy in one of these rooms,” Becky said with a note of disgust. “Can you imagine? In a church?”
“I know,” Abby answered before pointing down a hallway. “I’ll check down here. You go look in the kitchen area.
Abby had just gotten to the third room when she heard Becky’s voice raised in alarm. “Abby! Abby! I found something,” Becky said. The tone in her voice made Abby run, quickly crossing the distance to where her friend was gesturing wildly for her to hurry.
Abby pushed her way into the doorway before freezing. Becky pointed further into the room, indicating a body lying motionless on the floor. Both women stared into the sightless, staring eyes of Francine who had a ring of ugly purple marks around her neck.
“Oh, Jackrabbits,” Abby said breathlessly before pulling out her phone and calling the sheriff’s office.
Chapter 3
“So much for the pie competition,” Abby said mournfully as she sat with her head in her hands. Becky, Gabe, and Hazel were all sitting in the reception area just inside the front entrance. The area was comfortable but hardly modern, with the seats and carpets probably being new thirty years ago. Still, it held a charm that fit the town well.
They had been told not to l
eave while Sheriff Pearson and one of his deputies searched the area where Francine’s body was found. Deputy Lanie had stayed with them, currently talking quietly with Red as they sat at a separate table.
Abby glanced up from her hands, watching the tear-streaked face of Red as he wrestled with the shocking revelation that his wife was dead. Becky and Abby had not told him. Instead, they had waited until the Sheriff had arrived. They had done their best to stall and keep Red away from the body although Abby hadn’t felt good about doing that but knew it was for the best.
It had been clear to both Becky and Abby that Francine had been murdered. In the harsh glare of the overhead fluorescent lights, Francine’s neck was visibly black and blue from where someone’s fingers had been around her throat. Neither Becky or Abby had gotten close, staying at the door to the kitchen until the Sheriff had arrived.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Gabe said, rubbing his strong hands along Abby’s back and shoulder.
Abby sighed, giving Gabe a tired look. “I feel a bit like bad luck,” she said.
“Hey, don’t forget your bad luck sidekick,” Becky said. “I’m the one that found her.”
“Fine, what do you want your superhero sidekick name to be?” Abby asked with a twist to her lips.
“It’s got to be something that goes with Hurricane Abby,” Becky said, drawing an eye roll from her friend. “Maybe Becky the Blizzard? That might work.”
Abby gave her friend a long look without answering. Instead, she shook her head. The moniker of Hurricane Abby had cropped up not long after she’d come to town and sometime after her adventures surrounding Rob Morgan. She had been worried it would become a description of her being a troublemaker, but to date, that had only manifested in isolated incidents.
Still, Abby didn’t feel like letting it stick without at least a little resistance.
“Abby,” Gabe said. “Don’t let your nickname get to you. Personally, I think it’s kind of cute, and I think at least most of the town agrees with me.”
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