Lemon Pies and Little White Lies (18 page)

“Can’t you just get the butterflies to show you who started the fire?” Jenny asked Ella Mae.

Ella Mae sighed. “I tried. They showed me a figure silhouetted against the trees. The person was dressed all in black. Black pants, black hoodie, black sunglasses. It was as if he or she knew they might be seen.”

Carol waved at the hearth. “What about Joyce? Could Loralyn have killed her?”

“I don’t think so,” Ella Mae said. “It wouldn’t have been a case of mistaken identity. I’m certain Joyce had her nails done at Perfectly Polished, Loralyn’s nail salon. Loralyn wouldn’t confuse her with your mother.” Ella Mae knit her brow and continued. “Besides, what would she gain from Fiona’s death? I think someone else took Joyce’s life. Someone who hasn’t been here long enough to know the difference between the two women, though I still don’t understand the killer’s motive. Why are you a threat, Fiona?”

“A small part of Nimue might fear me,” she said.

“Are you trying to tell me that Joyce’s murderer acted on Nimue’s wishes?” Ella Mae didn’t bother to conceal her astonishment. “That a woman who lives an ocean away has an agent in Havenwood?”

Setting aside her glass, Fiona stood before Ella Mae. “I know nothing for sure. At one time, the people of my village believed that Cora had given birth to the Clover Queen. Nimue had a clover-shaped mark. She came to her magic later than other girls, and though she was not the product of two magical parents, we still thought she could be the one the legend spoke of. We were wrong.” Fiona knelt and laid her palms on Ella Mae’s knees. “I am on your side. From the moment I heard what you did to save your mother and liberate your people, I vowed to offer my life and my loyalty should you have need of either. Now that my gifts are restored, they are yours to command. My daughter’s too.”

“Thank you.” Ella Mae rose and pulled Fiona to her feet. “And for what it’s worth, I believe Cora would want you to let go of your guilt. You couldn’t have known what Nimue would become. Nor could you have changed her. She chose her path. As you’ve chosen yours.”

“Wisely put,” Fiona said with a weary smile. “Has this visit helped you at all?”

“I have a better sense of who Nimue is. I know that she carries a powerful weapon and thinks she’s the rightful Clover Queen because she was raised believing it. And though I hate to ask if there are other versions of the Clover Queen legend, I must. Could Nimue possibly be right? Could
I
be the imposter?”

Fiona got a distant look in her eyes again. “Your ancestor, Morgan le Fay, is a descendant of Boudica, a Celtic queen who rebelled against the Romans. Boudica put the welfare of her people above all else. She went to war in hopes of securing their freedom. Gold coins minted in her honor bear a clover flower and three leaves. My granny used to say that a Clover Queen was born when her people needed her most. That’s you, my dear.” She led Ella Mae to the front door and
stepped outside with her. Gazing up at the night sky, she said, “You should try to get some rest.”

An owl hooted somewhere in the darkness and a winged shadow blotted out the starlight for several seconds before disappearing into the trees again.

“You’re done in, child,” Fiona whispered, and signaled for Jenny to start the car. “Go to bed. Things will look better in the morning.”

Too exhausted to argue, Ella Mae dropped into the passenger seat and pressed her cheek against the cool leather headrest. She desperately wanted to believe Fiona—to wake tomorrow and learn that Aunt Dee was on her way to a full recovery, that Reba had discovered the arsonist’s identity, and that Loralyn was no longer a threat.

“One can dream,” she murmured drowsily as Jenny drove down the mountain. Below them, the lights of downtown shone like distant beacons and the moon escaped from behind a veil of clouds to lay a pale pathway over the surface of the lake. Before she closed her eyes, Ella Mae couldn’t help but wonder if the trail of moonlight was meant for her, or for another woman. A woman born with water magic.

No. This is
my
home
, was Ella Mae’s last thought before the motion of the car lulled her to sleep.

•   •   •

When Ella Mae woke, she was momentarily confused by her surroundings. She wasn’t in her bed in the guest cottage, but curled up on a sofa in Partridge Hill’s library. Someone had stuck a pillow under her head and covered her with a blanket, and Chewy was asleep on the opposite sofa. His mouth was curved into a smile, as if he were fully aware that he’d been granted a special dispensation to nap on the furniture just this once.

“Good morning, boy,” Ella Mae whispered. She patted the cushion next to her and Chewy opened his eyes and leapt up to join her. He covered her face with tender little licks, his tail thumping wildly against the sofa back. Ella Mae buried her nose in his fur, which smelled of garden soil and cut grass.

She snuggled with her dog for a few minutes, wishing she didn’t have to move. But then she remembered the fire, and she gently pushed Chewy to the floor.

Her body was stiff and sore from a night on the sofa. Rubbing her neck, she shuffled into the kitchen and heard voices coming from the sunroom. Her mother and Reba were seated at the table looking tired but purposeful.

“There’s coffee.” Reba began to fill a mug. “Are you hungry? I could fix you somethin’.”

Ella Mae shook her head. “How’s Dee?”

“Out of danger,” her mother said. “She was safely transferred to the burn center in Atlanta. Verena told me that Dee’s doctor had to use every ounce of his gifts to heal her internal injuries.” She gazed out the window, but not before Ella Mae saw the worry in her eyes. “Unfortunately, her external burns are still quite serious. And very painful.”

Absently, Ella Mae poured cream into her coffee and watched the dark liquid become light and cloudy. She didn’t stir the cream with the spoon pinched between the fingers of her right hand. Instead, she stared at her own burn. “Two violent crimes have occurred in Havenwood and I have no idea who committed them. What kind of leader am I?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Using her own spoon, Reba stirred Ella Mae’s coffee and told her to drink it. “A skilled criminal can make himself invisible. Can become a member of the community. I keep a close eye on anyone who comes near you, and so far there haven’t been any red flags. We’re all on the lookout. Jenny, Aiden, Suzy, your aunts. Everyone.
For some reason, we just can’t see behind this person’s mask.”

Ella Mae sipped her coffee and told Reba and her mother what she’d learned at Fiona’s. When she was done, she looked at Reba. “Did you find any clues at Aunt Dee’s?”

Reba frowned. “I had to wait forever for the firemen and the cops to leave. My night vision is pretty good, but I couldn’t spot any clues that would reveal the arsonist’s identity.” She glanced at Ella Mae’s mother, who issued a reluctant nod. “But I did see this. Someone burned the grass to create this design.” She handed Ella Mae a cell phone.

At first, Ella Mae wasn’t sure what the lines of scorched grass were supposed to be, but then she rotated the screen and gasped. “Another clover. It’s the same shape that was drawn on the brick! The same we saw in the eye of the storm. How is this possible?” She felt a fresh burst of rage. “Could Fiona be right? Could this Nimue have an agent in Havenwood? And is that agent Loralyn?”

Reba pointed at her phone. “That’s not all. I called Officer Wallace, and she said the accelerant used to start the fire is sold at any hardware store. There are no prints on the containers either. And when I mentioned the clover in the grass, she sent me a photograph from Joyce Mercer’s crime scene. Of course, the official ruling was that it was an accidental death, but Wallace no longer believes that’s the case. Not since she saw this when she pulled Joyce’s file last night to see if she’d missed anything. Scroll to the next image.”

Ella Mae stared at a glowing clover drawn on the tile wall above Fiona Drever’s bathtub and released a savage growl. “Why didn’t we see this?”

“It was drawn with Irish Spring soap and only showed up under the black light. The officer who took the photographs didn’t think anything of it, and since Officer Hardy
was in charge of the investigation and ruled the case closed, Officer Wallace didn’t read through the whole file until last night,” Reba explained. “She was able to review every piece of information without Hardy wondering why. His mother is gravely ill, and he’s left town.”

“Two reprehensible acts,” Ella Mae whispered. “When I get my hands on the person who committed . . .” She fought to think clearly, to rein in her fury and decide what should be done next. “What else did Officer Wallace say?”

Reba glanced down at Chewy, who was sitting on his haunches next to Ella Mae’s chair like a perfect gentleman. “Not much. She was real worried about Dee’s animals. She went on and on about how they’d all end up in the shelter or that the wilder ones would run away.”

“I’m anxious about them too,” Ella Mae said.

Her mother shook her head. “Don’t be. A pair of Canine to Five staff members was kind enough to meet Reba at Dee’s very early this morning. Between the three of them, they rounded up any animal tame enough to be boarded, including the litter of kittens they found safe and warm inside a cardboard box in Dee’s bathroom.”

“Thank goodness.” Ella Mae was relieved to hear this.

Reba gave her hand a reassuring pat. “Another employee will drop by Dee’s place twice a day to put out food and fresh water for the feral animals, so you can strike that item off your worry list.”

“I’d like to cross out a few more,” Ella Mae said gravely. “Have the police identified the burn victim?”

“No, and if it’s Kyran, the authorities probably won’t be able to identify him. Since he’s from India, I doubt he’ll show up in our databases,” her mother said. “When Dee is able to talk, she’ll tell us who was in the barn with her.”

Ella Mae finished her coffee and poured herself another
cup. The fog in her head was beginning to dissipate. She looked at her mother. “What happened at Rolling View?”

“There’s nothing positive to report, I fear. Loralyn is gone. She left Opal a curt note saying that she was tired of being treated like a second-class citizen and that she was determined to restore her family’s reputation and secure her father’s release from prison.”

It was strange to think that Opal was completely alone in her stately mansion. She had hired help, of course, but no family. Within the space of a few months, she’d lost her husband and her daughter.

“Loralyn and Nimue are frighteningly similar,” Ella Mae said. “They’d both roll over anyone who dared to stand in their way. Loralyn is vain and mean-spirited, and Lord knows I never liked her, but I never truly thought she was capable of murder. Until now. Is she the arsonist?”

Her mother looked grim. “It’s possible. Opal didn’t notice Loralyn was missing until she knocked on her bedroom door to tell her that she was leaving to have dinner with Robert Morgan. When Loralyn didn’t answer, Opal entered the room and found the note on the dresser. Neither she nor the household staff had seen Loralyn since breakfast, so Opal has no idea whether she’s responsible for the fire or not.”

“And you believe her?”

“I do, because Verena does. I had my phone on speaker throughout the entire conversation so Verena could listen in. Opal was telling the truth. She’s very frightened by what Loralyn may have done and by what might happen to her now that she’s run off.”

Through the sunroom window, the garden was a leafy paradise of lush blooms, fragrant herbs, and droning insects. Ella Mae opened the French doors and felt the sunlight fall across her face. She smelled roses and basil, gardenia and
mint, honeysuckle and rosemary. If this were a normal Sunday, she’d take out her food notebook and jot down savory pie recipes that she could make using her mother’s fresh herbs. The instant she thought of the pie shop and her bright, sunny kitchen, she felt stronger, more grounded. If she wanted to have a normal Sunday ever again, she’d have to earn it.

“The first History in the Baking event starts tomorrow,” she said as Chewy shot past her and into the garden. “Despite everything that’s happened, I have to make certain that it’s a success.” Ella Mae ran her hands through her tangled hair. “I need to show our guests that nothing will interfere with my determination to unite our kind. I can’t let anything distract me from that goal.”

“Then I’d best not give you this,” Reba said, brandishing Ella Mae’s cell phone. “Finn’s left a bunch of voice mails, and you have a dozen new text messages.” She pointed at Ella Mae’s purse, which was on the empty chair beside her. “I got your bag out of the warehouse without incident. Your gun is safe and sound, but your cell phone battery is about to die.”

Ella Mae accepted the bag and the phone and examined her text messages. “Finn wrote that the mother cat is going to be okay. In fact, he brought her home. He’s offered to keep her until Dee can take her back.”

It was clear that no one wanted to speculate on when that would be. While Ella Mae scrolled through her messages, her mother shared how Dee had drifted in and out of consciousness during the transfer to Atlanta. Whenever she woke, she was in so much pain that the nurses increased her medicine until she was finally coaxed into a morphine-induced sleep.

“We’ll get another healer,” Ella Mae said as her phone vibrated, signaling a new text message. “I’ll spread the word
among our visitors. Someone must know who can treat her burns, and then—” She glanced at her phone screen, and whatever she meant to say flew out of her head like a startled bird.

“What is it?” her mother asked.

Ella Mae stared at the single sentence, which floated in the center of her screen like a buoy in a silver ocean. “It’s from Hugh,” she said in voice tight with emotion. “He’s coming home.”