Peach Cobbler Poison

by Diana DuMont

  Violet quickly downed her coffee, and then nervously looked around as though she somehow wasn’t perfectly safe in the middle of a café in this sleepy little town.

  “I should get going,” she announced as she shakily stood. “It’s going to be dark soon.”

  I frowned. “It’s only five, and it’s the middle of July. It’s not going to be dark for several more hours.”

  “Still. It’s getting late. Better to get home. I’ll see you at bridge tomorrow, Agnes.”

  “See you there,” Grams replied, not bothering to argue with Violet about how late it was. As soon as Violet was gone, Grams started talking about her.

  “I swear that woman is going to give herself a heart attack one of these days. She thinks every shadow is someone waiting to jump out and kill her. Ever since her husband died—of completely natural causes, mind you—she’s been convinced that someone is out to get her. What a sad way to live.”

  Grams shook her head and took a long swig from her wine glass. Then she whistled and called for Sprinkles. “Here, boy!” she called out. “Come to Grams! I’ve got pie!”

  “Grams, no! He’s had too much already! And he definitely doesn’t need boozy pie!”

  But Grams ignored me. Sprinkles had already made it around the counter and to Grams’ table, where he was happily gulping down the last bite of her peach brandy cobbler. Apparently, that was all it took for him to forgive her for the salon trip and hot pink toenails.

  “Grams, I don’t think he should even be in here,” I hissed, feeling annoyed. “It’s against health code.”

  I glanced nervously over at Caitlin’s table, hoping that she, Todd and Josie weren’t annoyed by the dog. The last thing I needed right now was for some journalist from San Francisco to decide to make trouble for me with Sunshine Springs’ health inspectors.

  But Caitlin and the others weren’t paying any attention to Sprinkles. They were in a heated discussion that was growing awkwardly louder.

  “Pfft,” Grams said as she scratched Sprinkles behind the ears. “There isn’t actually much alcohol in a boozy pie. It gets baked out. And no one here cares about silly health code rules. Why, Alice down at the Morning Brew Café lets her two cats have the complete run of the place. No one complains about that.”

  “Well, Alice is a local. I’m still an outsider, as you like to remind me. I’m not sure I can get away with all of the things that—”

  An angry scream from Caitlin interrupted me. Startled, I looked over to see her jumping to her feet and shaking an angry finger in Todd’s face.

  “You’re wrong. You’re both wrong. This relationship is going nowhere. I wouldn’t even be working with you if my boss hadn’t forced me to. And you, Josie!”

  Caitlin turned to point at her sister.

  “I’m ashamed to even call you my sister right now. I can’t believe you’re dumb enough to think this…this…imbecile is actually boyfriend material.”

  With that, Caitlin grabbed her leather tote bag, spun on her heel, and stormed out of the café. The four of us inside were left to stare after her in stunned silence. Todd was the first to speak. He looked over at me with an embarrassed smile on his face.

  “I’m sorry about that outburst. She gets a bit, uh, feisty at times. I hope we didn’t disturb your other customer.”

  He glanced over at Grams, who was still staring out the window with a glint in her eye. She did love a good dramatic moment. I had a feeling she was a bit jealous of Caitlin. Grams probably wished that she had a good reason to storm out of a café like that, with everyone left behind gaping at her in astonishment.

  “Don’t worry,” I assured Todd. “She’s my grandmother, so it’ll take more than one angry outburst to scare her away from the café. She’s sort of stuck with me.”

  Todd grinned at me, and I had to admit that I couldn’t blame Josie for wanting to date him. His tanned skin and chiseled jawbone could have gotten him a career as a male model. I had no idea how good of a photographer he was, but I’d be willing to bet that he’d be even better in front of the camera than behind it.

  Another sudden scream rang out across the café, interrupting my brief daydream over Todd’s good looks. I snapped my gaze over to Josie, who had jumped from her chair with her hands pressed over her mouth in shock. I followed her gaze, and nearly screamed myself.

  Caitlin was lying on the ground in the middle of Main Street. I couldn’t be completely sure from this angle, but it looked like the front wheel of a large, white sedan was far too close to Caitlin’s skull.

  “She’s been hit! She’s been hit!” Josie shrieked. Tears started running down her face as she ran toward the front door of the café.

  “Oh my god!” Todd exclaimed, jumping up to run after her, Grams hot on his heels. Sprinkles was barking, and looking back and forth between the door and me, as if unsure whether to go join the excitement or to stay and protect me from whatever disturbance was causing all of this screaming.

  “Come on, Sprinkles,” I said as I started running toward the door. I was already pulling my cell phone out of my apron pocket to call 911. “We better see what’s going on.”

  I gave the 911 operator my address and explained that we needed an ambulance, but by the time I hung up the call it was clear that an ambulance wasn’t going to do much good.

  “She’s dead!” Josie wailed. “My sister is dead! And YOU killed her!”

  Josie started to rush toward the driver’s side of the white sedan, but Todd grabbed her and pulled her back. “Calm down, Josie,” he said. “This was an accident, and the ambulance will be here soon.”

  I turned to look at the driver of the vehicle, and my eyes widened when I saw that Violet was sitting behind the wheel. Her hands were covering her mouth and shaking violently, and she had tears running down her face.

  “I didn’t see her!” Violet cried. “I didn’t see her at all. She just came out of nowhere and threw herself into the street. Why would she do that?”

  “Shh, it’s alright,” Grams said, patting Violet in a rather desperate way, like a frazzled mother might pat a newborn who refuses to sleep more than five minutes at a time. “I’m sure the ambulance will be here soon. I already hear the sirens.”

  I could hear the sirens too, which was surprising since they were nearly drowned out by Josie’s screams and Sprinkles’ barking. But a few minutes later, the ambulance came barreling down Main Street and screeched to a halt in front of the Drunken Pie Café. All up and down the street, I could see bystanders peering at the scene, a mixture of genuine horror and brazen curiosity evident in their facial expressions.

  The paramedics rushed to Caitlin’s side, but it was no use. It only took a few moments for them to look up and shake their heads.

  “Dead on arrival,” one of them said somberly.

  At his words, Josie screamed and fainted into Todd’s arms. A split-second later, I looked over to see Violet fainting as well, toppling sideways out of the car and landing in Grams’ arms.

  All up and down the street, the gawkers were still watching. A few of them were even taking out their phones to take pictures of the scene. I felt disgusted at their crassness, and I hoped they didn’t realize that the woman on the ground was actually dead. Taking pictures of a dead woman surely surpassed the boundaries of even the most gossip-hungry among them.

  I gave Grams a helpless look as she passed off the unconscious Violet to one of the paramedics.

  “Are you okay?” I asked weakly, although I wasn’t sure what I would do for her if she wasn’t. I didn’t exactly feel like a pillar of calm strength myself at the moment. Thankfully, Grams didn’t seem too disturbed by the whole affair. She merely shook her head sorrowfully, looking back and forth between Caitlin’s lifeless body and Violet’s unconscious form.

  “Pity,” she said. “This ordeal isn’t going to do any favors for Violet’s nerves. She’ll probably have to double the doses on all her anxiety medication.”

  For a moment, we both wer
e silent. Even Sprinkles had settled down now, having realized that his barking to sound the alarm was no longer necessary. After a few seconds of silence, Grams brightened and turned to me.

  “On the plus side, though, this girl’s death will be a boon for you.”

  I raised my eyebrows, a bit shocked. “What on earth do you mean by that?”

  Grams winked at me. “Oh, trust me. Everyone’s going to want the gossip about this little accident. And they’re going to come directly to the scene to get it. Your days of slow sales at the Drunken Pie Café are over.”

  Grams looked so gleeful that I felt a bit embarrassed for her. “Grams, listen to yourself! Someone just died! The last thing anyone should be worried about right now is pie sales.”

  Grams raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just saying!”

  She winked at me, then turned to speak to the paramedics, who were asking her if she knew whether Violet was on any medication.

  “Oh, tons,” Grams said, and began to list them off.

  I stood uncomfortably on the sidewalk, not sure whether reaching out to offer condolences to Josie and Todd would be appropriate or helpful at the moment. So instead, I turned to look at Sprinkles, who was desperately scratching at his hot pink bandana in an attempt to get it off. It’s like he knew the whole town was watching him right now, and he wanted to be sure they knew that he was not, in fact, a hot pink and rhinestones kind of guy.

  “They’re all watching us, Sprinkles,” I murmured. “I think they’ll be watching us for the next few days or weeks. And I’m not sure that’s such a good thing.”

  Sprinkles gave me an understanding sigh, then lay down at my feat in defeat, the sparkling pink bandana still tied firmly around his neck.

  Chapter Three

  Grams hadn’t been kidding when she said the pie shop would be busy. The next day, the line for pies, wine and gossip stretched out my front door and spilled over onto Main Street. It started even before the shop opened. When I arrived in the morning to bake pies, there were already a few people waiting outside the front door even though I didn’t open for several more hours. By the time I actually opened, the line was at least twenty people deep. It never slowed down, and I sold completely out of pie by noon.

  That didn’t stop people from coming in, anyway. I brewed pot after pot of coffee, and went through dozens of bottles of wine. I found myself looking up at the clock once again as it approached closing time, but today my reasons for looking forward to closing were different. I was exhausted, not bored. I thought that the lines would have slowed down as people realized that I didn’t have much to tell them about yesterday’s accident. But even though the information I had to give was meager, the good folks of Sunshine Springs hung on every word I said. As closing time approached, I felt relieved that I wouldn’t have to repeat the same story for what felt like the millionth time.

  The shop was finally clearing out, and I decided to start cleaning up. A mountain of dishes stood in the industrial sink behind me, and I wasn’t sure whether there was a clean mug left in the building. My bones ached, but my heart was happy. Today’s profits would give my savings a good boost—a boost I desperately needed. It didn’t matter how well I had planned things. Opening this café had turned out to be much more expensive than I’d thought it would be.

  As I walked toward the front door to lock it, I saw a woman standing below my wooden Drunken Pie sign with one hand on her hip. She gazed up at the sign with a furrowed eyebrow, and I wasn’t sure whether her expression was one of disgust or delight. As I watched, she dug into her shiny red purse to pull out her cell phone. The next thing I knew, she had turned around and was holding the phone in front of her face. She pointed it at an upward angle so that she could take a selfie of herself with the sign.

  I had to laugh. Yesterday, everyone in town would have been embarrassed to be caught in my pie shop. But today, people were taking selfies of themselves in front of my sign.

  The woman took a few shots with her phone’s camera, and then started scrolling through them. No doubt, she was looking for the best one so that she could post it online and show all of her friends that she’d been at the now-infamous Drunken Pie Café: the café in front of which a journalist from the big city had met her demise just the day before.

  The woman looked up, and saw me staring at her. I would have thought she’d be a bit embarrassed to be caught taking selfies with my sign, but she merely shrugged and gave me a grin.

  “What can I say?” she asked. “I take selfies with everything around here. I would be remiss if I didn’t take one in front of the hottest café in town.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. I wasn’t sure that I would call my café the hottest café in town. It was popular for today, but that popularity wasn’t likely to last once the excitement of someone dying in front of the café faded away. Still, I was enjoying the business while it lasted, and there was something irresistible about the twinkle in this woman’s eyes.

  “Well, I’m glad you like my sign. Goodness knows I spent enough money on that thing. Who knew custom signs could be so pricey?”

  Her smile widened. “It’s an adorable sign. I say it was worth every penny. I’m Molly, by the way. I’ve been looking forward to getting down here and seeing your pie shop all day. I work at the library, so I hear a lot of the town gossip. Your pie shop is all anyone has been talking about today.”

  I sighed. “I’m Isabelle, but everyone calls me Izzy. It’s nice to meet you, although I do wish people were talking about how good my pie is instead of how someone died in front of my pie shop.”

  “Well, how good is your pie?” Molly asked. “If you’re still open, I’d love to come in and try a slice. I have to admit that wine and pie are two of my favorite things, so combining the two sounds like a dream come true.”

  I grinned. “You seem like my kind of gal. Come on in, and I’ll get you a glass of wine and some pie. I’m actually sold out of everything, but I did save a slice of banana cream pie for my Dalmatian. You can have it, and Sprinkles will just have to be happy with his regular old dog food tonight.”

  Molly’s eyes widened. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to steal pie from your dog. I love dogs, and I wouldn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with Sprinkles.”

  “Don’t worry,” I called over my shoulder as I walked back into the café and toward the back room. “Sprinkles gets far more pie than he should, anyway. Just sneak him a bite the next time you come in, and I’m sure he’ll be perfectly happy to forgive you.”

  Sprinkles, who had been sleeping in the back room, must have heard me talking about him. He came bounding out into the café, even though I’d told him a thousand times already to stay in the back. I sighed. I hoped that Grams was right, and that people here really didn’t care about things like what the health inspector would say about having a dog in a café.

  If Molly’s reaction to Sprinkles was any indication, then I had nothing to worry about. Molly squealed, crouched down, and stretched out her arms to Sprinkles as though they had known each other their whole lives.

  “Sprinkles! It’s so nice to meet you!”

  I shook my head, amazed at how everyone in the world seemed to automatically love a spotted dog. Then I turned to go get Molly her pie. A few minutes later, Molly was munching on the slice of banana cream pie, and moaning happily as though this was the first time in her life that she’d ever had the pleasure of tasting sugar.

  I smiled. “So you like it?”

  “Like it? I love it! I can’t believe I’ve lived my whole life until now without trying your pie. This is definitely going to be my biggest, newest vice. Don’t you worry, honey. This pie shop is going to do just fine in Sunshine Springs. People here love wine, and they love baked goods. Combining the two is a sure winner. And now that they’ve tasted your pie, they won’t be able to stay away—no matter how much they want to act like they’re too cool for outsiders. How much do I owe you?”

  I waved my hand dism
issively. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t planning to sell that slice anyway, and it’s nice to have someone treating me like a friend instead of an alien.”

  Molly laughed. “Don’t worry. Really. Folks around here aren’t as bad as they seem at first. They’re just a bit wary of anyone coming up from the big city. We’ve had a few jerks over the years come in, wanting to buy up local property and turn this place into some kind of wine country getaway for all the snobby people from San Francisco. But you’re different. You actually want to live here and make your home here. They’ll see that soon enough, especially since your grandma is here. She’s a town favorite.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Really? I wasn’t sure. Obviously, I love her to pieces. But she’s so…different.”

  “Everyone around here is different, once you get to know them. It’s what keeps life in a small town interesting.”

  I shrugged. “I guess I never realized how many characters there were around here. I’ve only visited a few times, for very short visits. Grams always preferred to come visit me up in San Francisco. She liked to get away to the big city and gawk at all the big city folks, as if they were somehow more eccentric than she is.”

  Molly just laughed and took another bite of her pie.

  “Speaking of interesting,” I said. “Aren’t you going to ask me about the accident yesterday? After all, that’s why everyone is coming by here today.”

  Molly looked up at me and tilted her head sideways in a quizzical way. “I guess that depends. If I ask you about it, do you have anything new to tell me? So far, I’ve heard that the poor girl tripped on the curb after leaving your café in the midst of an angry argument with her sister and her sister’s boyfriend. And she just so happened to be unlucky enough to trip in front of Violet Murphy, who insists on driving that tank of a car even though she shouldn’t be driving at all anymore. Of course, Violet didn’t see the girl or didn’t stop in time, and now that poor girl’s skull is embedded with skid marks from the sedan’s tires. That about sum it up?”