Chapter 2

Ella Mae grabbed hold of Bea’s arm and tried to pull her into the boat, but her efforts almost capsized the shallow craft.

Refusing to leave Bea in the water, Ella Mae paddled with her right hand and held on to Bea’s bloated wrist with her left. It was a nearly impossible undertaking as the boat’s bow continuously swung off course, veering back toward the center of the lake, and Ella Mae quickly felt her arm tiring as she fought to reach the dock.

When the bow finally bumped against the side of the dock, Ella Mae dragged the dead woman’s body as close to the dock as she could before awkwardly lunging onto the rough wood. The boat shot out from under her feet and though she landed hard on her right shoulder, she didn’t let go of Bea’s wrist. Chewy barked in alarm and then began sniffing near her hand.

“No,” Ella Mae commanded with unusual harshness.

She tried not to look at Bea’s bloated, jellyfish-pale face, but she knew those unblinking eyes would haunt her sleep for many nights to come.

“I’m sorry,” Ella Mae murmured to the dead woman as she laboriously crawled over the dock toward the shore. She could feel splinters piercing the skin of her palms and knees, but there was no other way for her to proceed without releasing her hold of Bea’s wrist.

At the end of the dock, she finally had to let go. She hurriedly kicked off her sandals, waded into the water, and dragged Bea’s body onto the sand. Bea felt heavy. Weighed down with water and with death, she was far heavier than Ella Mae had expected. She dropped on the sand and tried to catch her breath. Chewy sniffed the dead woman once, and then he bared his teeth as a growl rose from deep in his throat.

“No, boy. Hush.” Ella Mae scooped up her terrier and carried him back home. Once inside her house, she released Chewy and dialed 911.

It didn’t take long for the police to respond.

Ella Mae only had time to change into dry clothes and extract the worst of the splinters before she heard a series of authoritative raps on her front door.

“You and I keep meeting over dead bodies, Ms. LeFaye,” said Officer Jon Hardy. “I wish that weren’t the case.”

“Me too,” Ella Mae said. “Though I’m glad you responded to the call and not someone else. You’ll look after Mrs. Burbank.”

Officer Hardy was instantly contrite. “Forgive me. I didn’t realize you knew the deceased.”

“I just met her yesterday, but she seemed like a lovely person. To find her floating in the lake . . .” Ella Mae trailed off.

Officer Hardy gave her a paternal pat on the shoulder. “It took courage to pull her out of the water. That was well done. Can you take me to Mrs. Burbank now?”

Ella Mae managed a smile. “Yes, but as soon as I’m done, I need to tell my mother what’s going on. I don’t want her to wake up to find cop cars and a coroner’s van parked in her driveway.”

“Of course,” Hardy said. After issuing commands to his team, he signaled for Ella Mae to lead the way. As they walked, he pointed at her bloodied knees. “Those are some nasty-looking scrapes.”

“Splinters from the dock. There was no graceful way for me to get Mrs. Burbank ashore. I wasn’t able to pull her into the boat with me.”

Hardy studied her with admiration. “Did you notice any objects floating in the water near Mrs. Burbank?”

“No. Nothing.” Ella Mae thought of Bea’s bare feet. “She wasn’t even wearing shoes. She had on a pretty dress. There was a gold camellia stickpin affixed right here.” Ella Mae touched her fingers to her chest. “She wore that pin yesterday too.”

“And her purpose for being in Havenwood?” Hardy asked.

By the time Ella Mae filled Hardy in on the Camellia Club’s annual retreat, they’d reached the lake’s edge.

Hardy held up a hand and the other policemen came to a halt. Distancing himself from both Ella Mae and his team, Hardy walked up to Bea’s body. For a full minute, he peered down at her, his expression somber. He then squatted even closer, staring fixedly at her face.

“What’s he doing?” one of the cops murmured.

“It’s like he’s paying his respects,” another whispered. “I’ve seen him do this before. Don’t go thinking Hardy’s soft because he sees victims as people, not just cases. He’s a damned good investigator. He closes cases.”

Returning to the group, Hardy addressed Ella Mae. “Your formal statement can wait until the morning, Ms. LeFaye, but we’ll need it first thing. Until then, take care of those splinters.”

And with that, Ella Mae was dismissed. Hardy, whose attention was now fixed on his team, began assigning tasks.

Ella Mae trudged over the lawn and through the garden. When she reached Partridge Hill’s back entrance, she found her mother standing in the doorway.

Seeing Ella Mae, Adelaide LeFaye rushed forward and enfolded her daughter in her arms.

“I saw the flashing lights and I didn’t know what to think,” she whispered in a thin, shaky voice.

“I’m okay,” Ella Mae assured her. “I found Mrs. Burbank in the lake. She’s dead, Mom.”

Adelaide glanced up at the moon. Its light fell on her long, silver hair and her ageless face. To Ella Mae, her mother could have been a fairy queen from one of her childhood storybooks. All four of the LeFaye sisters were beautiful, but Adelaide possessed an otherworldly beauty that continued to ripen as the years passed. One only had to look at her to believe in magic.

“Did you see Mrs. Burbank at the resort?” she asked, looking at Ella Mae again.

“No. I assumed the festivities were too boisterous for her, but now I’m wondering where she was while they were taking place.” Ella Mae tried to shut out the image of Bea’s bloated face. “Officer Hardy will undoubtedly head to the resort when he’s finished here. He’ll find out what happened to her.”

Adelaide pointed at the second-story windows. “Should we wake Jenny and Calvin?”

The Upton siblings had been living at Partridge Hill since they had moved to Havenwood from Tennessee. For a while, both Jenny and Calvin had worked at The Charmed Pie Shoppe. Jenny had been a server and Calvin had handled the deliveries. Since then, Jenny had become Ella Mae’s partner, and Calvin, who’d been an electrician in Tennessee, had gone to work for his friend, Finn Mercer. Finn designed furniture while Calvin made innovative light fixtures. Their business was really taking off and Calvin had been so busy that Ella Mae hadn’t seen him for days.

“Let them sleep,” she said. “They have a double date tomorrow. Though I don’t think Jenny realizes that it’s a date. Actually, I doubt Finn does either.”

“But Finn has feelings for you.” Her mother was clearly surprised. “He can’t just turn those off. Jenny could be headed for a miserable evening.”

“Finn barely knows me,” Ella Mae protested softly. “When we met, he’d just lost his mother and I became his first friend in Havenwood. He’ll always have a place in my heart because he helped rescue Aunt Dee from that burning barn, and I want him to find someone who will give him the love he deserves. I think Jenny is that person. Calvin does too.”

Adelaide smiled. “I hope you’re right. I’d like Jenny to experience a little happiness. She’s had more than her fair share of suffering, and yet she never lets anything get her down. Whoever wins her heart will be a lucky man.”

“Yes,” Ella Mae agreed through a yawn. “We should try to get some sleep now.”

“Not until I remove those splinters. I’m going to make an Epsom salt poultice for the deeper splinters. You won’t be able to cook on Tuesday if your hands hurt.”

By the time Adelaide put aside her tweezers and applied bandages to Ella Mae’s knees and palms, it was well after midnight. Ella Mae didn’t even hear the sound of police car tires crunching over the gravel driveway on their way out. With Chewy curled up by her feet, she slumbered without dreaming for hours.

However, when the sun began to rise and light snuck in through the gap in her bedroom curtains, images began to fracture Ella Mae’s sleep.

She was in the rowboat again, but this time, the dock was gone. The lake water was ink-black and Bea’s body bobbed in the current like a white buoy. She was beyond reach, so Ella Mae stretched her arm out, straining to grab Bea’s wrist. Suddenly, Bea’s dead, glassy stare shifted. She blinked and her mouth curled into an ugly snarl. Seizing Ella Mae’s forearm, she yanked hard, pulling Ella Mae overboard. Immediately, unseen hands yanked her under the surface. Ella Mae tried to wriggle free, but the hands wouldn’t let go. She could feel cold fingers digging into the skin of her calves as she was dragged deeper into the gloom. She tried to scream, but her lungs filled with lake water.

Ella Mae woke with a jolt. Her hair was plastered to her cheeks and her mouth was full of grit. She’d just finished wiping her face with a cool washcloth when the phone rang. It was the Havenwood Police Department. She was being summoned.

“I’ll be right there,” she told the officer and ended the call. To Chewy, who was dancing around her legs in anticipation of his breakfast, she added, “I smell like lake water and look like a zombie, so I’m not going anywhere until I feed you, make coffee, and take a shower. They’ll just have to arrest me if they have a problem with that.”

As Ella Mae drove into town, she considered the fact that most of the officers had probably been up for the better part of the night. After securing the scene at her house, they’d have gone on to Lake Havenwood Resort to conduct interviews and search Bea’s room.

With this in mind, she stopped by the pie shop to collect four pies from the freezer. She didn’t have time to cook them, but she knew there was an oven in the police department’s break room and hoped to use it to make the cops a late breakfast.

Luckily, the young officer tasked with taking her statement was amenable to her idea. After Ella Mae repeated the same story she’d told Hardy the night before, the officer switched off the recording device and escorted her to the break room.

Left to her own devices, Ella Mae squeezed the pies into the preheated oven, brewed a pot of coffee, and then tidied up while the pies were baking. She was just cutting the first pie into slices when Hardy entered the room.

“Has The Charmed Pie Shoppe relocated?” he asked, sweeping his arm around the room.

Hardy’s attempt at levity was undermined by both his haggard appearance and the hint of irritation in his voice. Ella Mae didn’t think it was directed at her. Handing him a mug of fresh coffee, she said, “It must have been a very long night.”

Lowering himself into the nearest chair, Hardy nodded. “Yes, and to top it all off, Mrs. Burbank’s daughter will be here any minute. This is the part of my job I hate the most. Not only will Mrs. Fisher have to identify her mother’s body, but I’ll also have to ask her questions no child should have to answer about her parent.”

Ella Mae wondered what secrets Beatrice Burbank might have been hiding. How had she ended up in the lake? Had she consumed too much alcohol and somehow lost her footing, fallen into the water, and accidentally drowned?

Using two forks to slide a wedge of pie onto a plate, Ella Mae served Hardy his breakfast. “In other words, you’ll have to ask Mrs. Burbank’s daughter if her mother had a drinking problem. Or some other addiction. You’ll have to make a painful situation more painful.”

“Exactly.” Hardy sipped his coffee. “I hope Mrs. Fisher brought someone to lean on today. Even the strongest of us aren’t prepared to lose our mothers. Especially like this.”

Hardy had eaten half of his pie by the time the front desk clerk poked her head into the room. She opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again, sniffing the air instead.

“Come in, Officer Thaler,” Hardy beckoned. “Ms. LeFaye brought breakfast.”

“That’s mighty kind of you.” Officer Thaler flashed Ella Mae a brief smile and turned back to Hardy. “I’d better wait, sir. Mrs. Fisher is here. I put her in your office. She came alone. Said her husband had to stay with their kids.”

Hardy sighed. “That’s not good. Do you mind sitting in for the interview?”

“Of course not,” she replied. “I already asked Hughes to cover the desk. I’ll find out if Mrs. Fisher would like some coffee.”

“Thank you.” Hardy got to his feet. “And thanks to you as well, Ms. LeFaye.”

Ella Mae nodded. “I’m glad you were able to get in a few bites of comfort food. If you need more, you know where to find me.”

*   *   *

As she walked back to her pink truck, which had once been used to deliver mail, Ella Mae heard the haunting strains of “Taps” drifting through the air and knew that the Memorial Day ceremony honoring Havenwood’s veterans was under way.

Ella Mae changed course. As though hypnotized by the bugle call, she headed toward the sound of the music. It was very faint at first, but the lone bugler was soon joined by other instruments, and by the time Ella Mae reached the war memorial statue—a marble column with a bronze eagle at its summit—three stooped and grizzled veterans had just finished conducting the laying of the wreath ceremony.

The music ended and the crowd began to disperse. Ella Mae noticed the bright, orange-red hue of the artificial poppy flowers affixed to the men’s shirt collars and to the ladies’ blouses or purse straps and remembered that Hugh and some of the other firemen had volunteered to help a group of veterans distribute poppies at the community center.

She found Hugh standing beside an elderly man in a wheelchair. The man, a Korean War veteran, held a straw basket filled with the artificial flowers in his lap and was laughing heartily over something Hugh had said. As for Hugh, he appeared to be in charge of the donation can.

“All proceeds provide assistance to the veterans of foreign wars, ma’am,” he explained to a woman who’d paused by his companion’s wheelchair. “And partially to the Veterans of Foreign Wars National Home for Children as well. Because every child deserves a happy family. That’s the organization’s motto.”

The woman glanced over her shoulder to where three children were sitting at a picnic bench, enjoying ice cream cones with a middle-aged man who was undoubtedly their father. After thanking the man in the wheelchair for his service, the woman removed several bills from her wallet and pushed them into Hugh’s can.

“I told you that mentioning kids will fill up the can faster than talking about crusty old men like me,” the vet grumbled.

Seeing Ella Mae, Hugh gave her a conspiratorial wink. “I bet this lady is different. I bet she has a thing for guys in uniform.”

Though Ella Mae wasn’t in a lighthearted mood, she couldn’t disappoint the aged veteran. After all, he’d risked his life to defend her freedom. The least she could do was smile at him and show her gratitude.

“Would you like a poppy, miss?” he asked.

“I would, sir,” she said, stepping up to his wheelchair. “However, this shirt doesn’t have any buttonholes. Would you mind putting one in my hair?”

The old man was delighted to oblige. “Such pretty hair too. Smells like vanilla and oranges.”

Ella Mae caught his hand and held it. Looking into his eyes, she thanked him for his service.

Grinning, Hugh rattled his can. “You can assist veterans like my friend here to receive rehabilitation services and other necessary programs.”

“It would be my honor.” Ella Mae slid a twenty into the can. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she jerked her head in the direction of the community center entrance. “Can we talk inside?”

“I’m going to grab some water for us, Bert. Be back in five,” Hugh said and put the donation can inside Bert’s basket.

Bert arched his bushy brows. “If she was my girl, I wouldn’t come back at all.”

Laughing, Hugh accompanied Ella Mae into the building.

“I keep thinking about last night.” Hugh took Ella Mae’s hand. “About all of yesterday, in fact. Poor Bert. He must be wondering how he got stuck with the fireman with half a brain.”

As they walked, Hugh and Ella Mae waved at friends and neighbors. It was only after Hugh purchased the bottled water that Ella Mae led him to an alcove near the restrooms and showed him her bandaged palms.

“What happened?” he asked, his blue eyes darkening in concern.

Ella Mae told him as succinctly as possible.

When she was done, Hugh leaned against the wall and exhaled. “Maybe you didn’t see her during the festivities because she was out on a boat.”

“How would she have fallen overboard? The water was totally calm. And why would she have gone out alone?” Ella Mae argued. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Hugh put his arms around her. “It was an accident, Ella Mae. It must have been. She didn’t know anyone in Havenwood, right?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“Then there’s no reason to believe someone meant her harm,” Hugh said reasonably. “I’m sorry that she died and I’m even more sorry that you had to find her.” He stroked Ella Mae’s hair. “I wish I’d been with you. I want to be with you always.”

Ella Mae closed her eyes. She was comforted by Hugh’s touch. By the sound of his voice and the familiar way their bodies fit together. “You should get back to Bert,” she said.

“I know I should, but I want to stay here a little longer.” Hugh kissed her lightly on the lips. “Part of me feels like I never have enough time with you. I don’t mean that in a bad way either. What I mean is that what we have is so great that I can’t get enough of it.”

“At least we had yesterday to ourselves. It was magical,” Ella Mae said. She nestled against Hugh one more time. She listened to his heartbeat and ran her fingers over his sun-warmed shirt. Finally, she stepped away from him. Reluctantly, the couple returned to the main hallway.

Outside, Bert was busy speaking with two Gulf War veterans, so Ella Mae gave Hugh’s hand a final squeeze and slipped away.

*   *   *

On the way back to her truck, Ella Mae walked by The Charmed Pie Shoppe. Though her business had been open for a couple years now, the sight of the butter-yellow clapboard cottage with its wide front porch and raspberry-pink front door never failed to make her heart swell with pride.

A blue minivan was parked at the end of the shop’s flagstone path. The vehicle was not unusual, but the glittery camellia decal on the rear windshield got Ella Mae’s attention. Hustling up the path and into the patio garden, she found a woman seated at one of the café tables.

Ella Mae couldn’t see her face because the woman’s head was buried in her arms. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

“Ma’am?” Ella Mae said softly, not wanting to startle her. She suspected she’d stumbled upon Bea’s daughter. “Mrs. Fisher?”

The woman raised her head and swiped at the mascara tracks on her cheeks. “Yes. That’s me.” She ran a hand through her hair, which was an unkempt mass of mouse-brown curls. “Are you the pie chef?”

“I am.” Ella Mae gestured toward the building. “Can I get you something from inside? A glass of water?”

“No, thanks.” She sniffled. “I just wanted to see the garden. Mama mentioned it because she knows how much I love gardening. It was one of our few safe subjects.” She fell silent for a moment before continuing. “This patio has such a wonderful blend of blooms and herbs. I like how the purple basil is mixed with the black-eyed Susans, and the lavender and rosemary are in the same bed with the wild geraniums. Do you use all these herbs in your food?”

Ella Mae sat on the chair across from Mrs. Fisher. “I do. And what we don’t grow here comes from my mother’s herb garden. She also has a large greenhouse, so we serve fresh greens throughout the year.”

Mrs. Fisher’s tears began flowing again. “It sounds like you and your mom are close. You’re so lucky.”

“We are now, but that wasn’t always the case,” Ella Mae said. “And I’m sure your mother loved you.”

Bea’s daughter let loose a dry, humorless laugh. “I was born Elizabeth Grace Burbank, the only child of Christopher and Beatrice Burbank. I was supposed to be tall, slim, blond, and accomplished. Above all else, I was supposed to be a Camellia. Instead, I turned out to be short, plump, and great at only one thing: motherhood. I’m a good wife too, but I’m most proud of the mom I’ve become. I never aspired to be a Camellia. What I dreamed of was raising a big, loud, chaotic, happy family.” She laughed again, but this time, it was genuine. “And that’s exactly what I did.”

Smiling, Ella Mae extended her hand. “Well, Elizabeth of the big, happy family, I’m Ella Mae.”

“It’s just Liz.” The other woman managed a small smile. “I’m sorry to show up unannounced. I didn’t want to break down at the police station. Mama would have been pleased by my composure. I was able to identify her without crying. I even made it through the interview. But when they gave me her things . . .” Her voice wavered and she stopped.

“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been,” Ella Mae said gently. “I wish someone had come to Havenwood with you.”

“Brady is with the boys. All three of them are Scouts and they’re volunteering today. I didn’t want them to have to stay at home with a sitter because of this. I thought I could handle it. Brady warned me that it would be awful.” Liz pulled a wad of tissues from her handbag and a bunch of other detritus fell onto the ground, including gum, hand sanitizer, toy soldiers, a yo-yo, and a Tide bleach pen.

Liz scrambled to retrieve the items. “I buy these bleach pens by the dozen,” she said, showing Ella Mae the large coffee stain on her blouse.

It was hard to believe that this disheveled person with the wild hair, the mascara-streaked cheeks, and the stained shirt was Bea’s daughter, but Ella Mae liked her just as much as she’d liked Bea.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Ella Mae asked. “I have a great recipe for cheeseburger pie. I bet your sons would love it. When I’m upset, being in the kitchen helps. Talking things over with another woman helps too. What do you say?”

Liz nodded gratefully. “That sounds really nice.”

Ella Mae led Liz into the pie shop. She turned on the lights in the kitchen and tuned the radio to an easy listening station. After giving Liz a peach The Charmed Pie Shoppe apron, she set the ovens to the correct temperature and retrieved two balls of pie dough from the refrigerator. As she and Liz rolled out the dough on the flour-dusted worktable, Liz told her what it was like to grow up in Bea’s shadow.

“She was top of her class at Emory University. She spoke three languages, was a talented watercolor painter, and played competitive chess, tennis, and golf. She was a skilled pianist and could ride a horse like she was part centaur, but do you know what she couldn’t do?” Liz held up her rolling pin as though it were a question mark.

Ella Mae shrugged. She wanted Liz to get a few things off her chest, but she didn’t want to encourage an hour-long rant about how tough it was to be Beatrice Burbank’s daughter.

“She couldn’t swim,” Liz said sorrowfully. “Isn’t that crazy? She grew up in Georgia, for heaven’s sake. We have some of the hottest, stickiest summers known to man, but Mama never learned to swim. She was from a small town near the Alabama border, and her family was poor. She never saw the ocean until she married my daddy. She won a scholarship to Emory and that’s where she met Daddy, but none of the Camellias know that. Mama always hid the truth about her roots. She was so ashamed of her past that her parents were never allowed to visit.”

“That’s awful,” Ella Mae said, liking Bea a little less.

“She couldn’t take the risk of losing her invitation to join the Camellias. To become a member without a legacy status is really difficult. You either have to donate a ton of money, be famous, or have something the club wants. An it factor.”

Ella Mae transferred her pie dough to a dish. She then chopped two yellow onions and swept them into a frying pan to await sautéing. “What did your mother have?”

“She had money. My daddy came from a very wealthy family. They were rich and had an old Southern lineage. Not long after Mama was invited to join, she became the club’s youngest president. She ran the Camellias like a five-star general. The club never raised as much money or received so much attention from the media as when Mama was at the helm.” Liz sighed. “If only she’d invested that much time and devotion in getting to know her grandsons.”

“That is a shame,” Ella Mae agreed as they moved to the stove to sauté the onions and brown the ground beef. Hoping to steer the subject away from Bea, she asked Liz, “What will happen to the club now? Will they cancel the annual retreat?”

Liz shook her head. “No, no. After an appropriate period of mourning, they’ll elect a new president. I’m sure the woman who took my place in the club—my surrogate, so to speak—will be in the running. My mother finally got the daughter she wanted in that one.” She frowned deeply. “The campaigning will be fierce and furious. Women would kill to be named president of the Camellia Club.”

Ella Mae shot Liz a dubious look. “You’re kidding, right?”

But Liz wasn’t smiling. “No,” she said, her gaze fixed on the browning meat. “I’m deadly serious.”