Chapter 14

Ella Mae headed back to the resort’s main building in a daze. She glanced from the clear summer sky to the shimmering lake and wondered how it was possible to be surrounded by such beauty when it felt like the entire world was unraveling, one thread at a time.

Seeing no other alternative, Ella Mae had reluctantly agreed to Opal’s plan even though every cell in her body rebelled against it. She wanted to bring down Margaret Woodward on her own. And as much as she wanted the woman who’d killed Bea and Cora to be punished for her crimes without putting anyone else in harm’s way, she knew she couldn’t overcome someone who was basically immortal.

Why did Margaret kill them? Ella Mae thought angrily. She already possesses an object of power, and she’s already lived several lifetimes.

“I know you’re simmerin’ like a teapot on the stove. That’s a good thing,” Reba said. “Hold on to that steam. We’ve got enemies comin’ at us from all sides. This Margaret creature. Loralyn. The cops won’t be too happy with us either.”

Ella Mae stopped just outside the staff entrance. “You’re right. They’re going to wonder why we weren’t in the kitchen this morning. I have no choice but to tell Hardy that I arranged a meeting between Opal and Loralyn.”

“What if you blow Loralyn’s cover?” Reba asked, opening the door and waving Ella Mae inside the cool hallway.

“I could be saving her life. If she can’t run for president, she’s no longer a threat.”

Reba touched Ella Mae’s arm. “Except to you. She’ll try to claw your eyes out if you ruin her chance to get those apples.”

“I don’t think she’ll wait until tomorrow,” Ella Mae said as she glanced around the lobby. “Now that she knows Margaret Woodward has the apples, she’ll go after them at the first possible opportunity.”

Gesturing between the police officers guarding the front door, the main stairwell, and the elevator banks, Reba muttered, “It won’t be easy. I think the resort just became a five-star holdin’ cell.”

“Let’s find Hardy,” Ella Mae said. “The sooner we clear ourselves with him, the sooner we can focus on Margaret Woodward.”

“Can’t we just call her Meg?” Reba grumbled. “Even if it is a young-soundin’ name for that bag of bones.”

“Sure,” Ella Mae agreed absently.

Recognizing Officer Hutchins from the previous night, Ella Mae approached the policeman and asked to see Hardy.

“He’s been looking for you,” Hutchins scolded her before escorting Ella Mae and Reba to a small conference room. He knocked on the closed door and, without waiting for permission, cracked the door and said, “I have Ms. LeFaye and her assistant.”

“Give me five minutes,” Ella Mae heard Hardy say.

Hutchins pointed at a row of plastic chairs pushed up against the wall. “You can wait there.”

Exactly five minutes later, a Camellia named Luanne was ushered out of the room by a female officer. Luanne paused in the doorway, put her hand on her hip, and glared back at Hardy. “Just how long do you intend to keep us prisoners in our rooms? I have a spa appointment at one, and I really need that massage!”

Ella Mae was stunned by the woman’s arrogance as well as her complete lack of concern over Cora’s death. Hardy, who’d probably heard similar remarks all morning and was tired of them, merely signaled to his officer to move Luanne along and called out, “Send them in, Hutchins.”

“I’m sorry if our absence caused confusion,” Ella Mae said as soon as she and Reba were seated. Hutchins stood by the door with his arms crossed over his chest and arranged his face into a mask of disapproval.

Hardy nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t reply to Ella Mae. Instead, he pressed a button on the recording device in the center of the table and noted the date, the time, and the names of those present.

He then looked at Ella Mae and asked, “Did you kill Cora Edgeworth?”

“What? No!” she spluttered.

Hardy repeated the question to Reba, who calmly replied in the negative.

Hardy’s gaze returned to Ella Mae. “What time did you arrive at Lake Havenwood Resort this morning?”

Ella Mae answered him.

“And what did you do upon entering the premises?”

Omitting the detail about going to the kitchen to check on Reba’s weapons and discovering Cora’s body, Ella Mae explained her scheme to trick Loralyn into appearing at the designated woodland cabin.

“For what purpose?” Hardy demanded.

Ella Mae hesitated. She didn’t think Opal would be strong enough to execute her plan after enduring a taxing interrogation, but if Hardy caught Ella Mae in a lie, she would no longer be free to move around the resort.

“Ms. LeFaye?” he prompted impatiently.

“I don’t like discussing another person’s medical issues, but I can see there’s no avoiding it,” Ella Mae said. “Opal Gaynor has terminal cancer. She and her daughter, Loralyn, have been estranged since last spring. It’s Opal’s dying wish to reconcile with Loralyn before she . . . passes. Opal asked me to find Loralyn and I did. Purely by accident. I bumped into her while I was visiting the town of Sweet Briar. At the time, Loralyn made it clear that she didn’t want to talk to me, so I was forced to wait until the Camellias came to Havenwood to get Loralyn and her mother together. I lured Loralyn out early this morning by pretending that she was engaging in a Camellia Club ritual. It sounds very underhanded, I know, but I only did it to help a dying woman reunite with her daughter.”

Hardy frowned as he took this all in. He then picked up his pen and started reading a list of names.

“You won’t find Loralyn Gaynor’s name on that list,” Ella Mae said.

“You need to look for Lyn Croly,” Reba added. “Loralyn’s pretendin’ to be somebody else with the Camellias.”

Hardy circled the name. “Why?”

Ella Mae gave an innocent shrug. “If I had to guess, I’d say that she wants to start over again. Her father, who she once idolized, is in prison, and she had a major falling-out with her mother last spring. Loralyn responded to her familial troubles by moving to a new town and joining this club under a false name.”

“Though she did return to Havenwood in July to grab cash out of the safe in her nail salon,” Reba said. “Set off her own alarm and didn’t give a hoot. She must have figured no one would hear the noise with the rowboat race goin’ on. I suppose she forgot to pack her salon keys when she left town in a huff last spring.”

Now it was Hardy’s turn to be stunned. “Ms. Gaynor was responsible for the break-in? When did she tell you this?”

“About an hour ago,” Reba said placidly. “Ella Mae and I were in the cabin with Opal the whole time she and Loralyn talked. We wanted to be on hand in case she started feelin’ sick. I stayed in the bedroom to give mom and daughter their privacy, but I could hear every word. I have ears like a bat.” She touched her fingertips to her lobes.

Hardy jotted a note on a legal pad. “Were you hiding in the bedroom as well, Ms. LeFaye?”

“No. I was there as mediator,” Ella Mae said. “And to be honest, I had an ulterior motive.”

Hardy gave her an appraising look. “Which was?”

“To find out what Loralyn could tell me about Bea Burbank.” Raising her hands in a defensive gesture, Ella Mae quickly continued. “I know I wasn’t supposed to conduct an independent investigation, but I couldn’t waste this opportunity. As it turns out, Loralyn knew her very well. In fact, she became Bea’s surrogate. In Camellia Club terms, Loralyn effectively replaced Liz as Bea’s daughter, and immediately after Bea’s death, Loralyn announced that she was joining the race for club president.”

Hardy and Hutchins exchanged befuddled glances.

“I find it difficult to believe that two women have been murdered over this position,” Hardy said. “However, the facts belie my doubt. Mrs. Edgeworth was also a candidate. I learned that from her daughter.”

“Poor Meg!” Ella Mae exclaimed with mock concern. “How is she holding up?”

Hardy looked troubled. “She’s numb with grief, I’m afraid. She couldn’t supply much in the way of information other than to tell us that the chocolate in the fountain, which was a blend of peanuts and milk chocolate, would have certainly sent her mother into anaphylactic shock had she swallowed a single spoonful.”

“Cora obviously trusted the person who offered her that spoonful,” Reba said. “And that person must have come up with a mighty compellin’ reason for gettin’ Cora out of bed so early. Doesn’t this joint have cameras?”

“It does, but only in certain areas.” Hardy drummed his fingers on his pad. “Were you aware of Mrs. Edgeworth’s allergy, Ms. LeFaye?”

“Yes,” Ella Mae said. “All the chefs were notified beforehand. In fact, Caroline James and I were discussing that very subject last night. When Reba and I saw Caroline setting up the fountains, she’d yet to do a test run using the milk chocolate because she wanted to check the ingredient list on the Internet first. The words on the bag of chocolate melting wafers were smeared, and she didn’t want to take any chances, considering the seriousness of Cora’s allergy.” Ella Mae shook her head. “Caroline must be so upset. I hope she doesn’t blame herself.”

Reba narrowed her eyes at Hardy. “You don’t suspect her, do you?”

Hardy returned Reba’s stare. “As of this point, no one is above suspicion.” When Reba grunted in disgust, he reluctantly added, “Ms. James doesn’t strike me as a killer. Neither she nor her assistants appear to have a motive. The same goes for Ms. Jordan and her assistants. This crime is personal. Based on the scratches on the victim’s neck, the ME believes Mrs. Edgeworth ingested the peanut-tainted chocolate. The moment she did so, her lips, tongue, and throat began to swell. When she could no longer breathe, she must have panicked and clawed at her own neck. Once she lost consciousness and fell to the floor, her assailant positioned her, facedown, in the bowl of the fountain.”

“How terrible. And cruel.” Ella Mae shuddered. She hadn’t seen the marks on Cora’s neck because her skin had been covered in chocolate, but she remembered Cora’s swollen lips and her bloated, protruding tongue.

“Is there anything else you can tell us that might aid in our investigation?” Hardy asked.

Knowing the longer Loralyn was tied up with the police, the safer she’d be, Ella Mae nodded solemnly. “I don’t want to implicate anyone, but considering what’s happened, I can’t leave without repeating what Loralyn told me last night. I thought it was said in the heat of the moment because Loralyn can be dramatic. But now . . .”

“Go on,” Hardy prompted.

“She made a threat. It wasn’t directed at Cora, but toward the other candidate, Savannah McGovern,” Ella Mae explained. “Loralyn said, and this is a direct quote, ‘If she knows what’s good for her health, she’ll withdraw her candidacy. If not, she could be the next bloated body you pull out of the lake.’”

From his position near the door, Hutchins shifted impatiently. He looked more than ready to haul Loralyn into the conference room for a nice tête-à-tête with Officer Hardy.

“Thank you, Ms. LeFaye.” Hardy took down another note and spoke into the recording device, indicating the time before he hit the stop button.

Ella Mae hesitated at the threshold. “May I see Meg? I could bring her some hot tea or a little soup. She shouldn’t be alone right now. She should have company. Maybe someone who isn’t a Camellia.”

Hardy briefly mulled this over. “One of my officers is with her, but I don’t mind your checking in on her. I’ll let Officer Parks know you’ve been cleared to enter Ms. Edgeworth-Ryan’s room.”

“Thank you,” Ella Mae said.

Out in the lobby, Reba breathed a deep sigh of relief. “That went as well as it could. Loralyn will be very busy with the men in blue for the next hour or so, and I expect Hardy will put a few extra officers outside Savannah’s door too.”

“And he’s given us permission to visit Meg.”

Reba scowled. “Yeah. Poor, sweet, grief-stricken Meg. Let’s bring her some chicken broth laced with arsenic. Then, when she busts out the apples to heal herself, we can grab them.”

“As appealing as that sounds, we have to prove that Meg and Margaret are the same person, and that she’s responsible for murdering Bea and Cora, before we can start poisoning her food,” Ella Mae said. “After all, I have no idea what would motivate a woman who already owns an object of power to commit murder in the first place.”

“Give her cream of mushroom, then,” Reba said with a grimace. She’d never cared for mushrooms.

In the kitchen, they saw that Cora’s body had been removed, as had the largest of the chocolate fountains. Two police officers were busy cataloging the items in the kitchen. Maxine and Caroline each stood behind their stations as a police officer examined every one of their pots, pans, utensils, and dry goods.

Ella Mae threw Reba an anxious look. Once the cops had finished with the chefs’ belongings, they’d catalog the supplies on the shelves next. And the moment they opened Reba’s box of weapons, Ella Mae and Reba would be in a heap of trouble. Unless they could come up with a distraction—something to draw the officers away from that side of the kitchen long enough for Reba to relocate the box.

Just then, Caroline looked up and exclaimed, “Oh, Ella Mae! Isn’t this awful?”

Maxine put an arm around Caroline’s shoulders as she began to weep. Ella Mae stepped forward, intending to provide Caroline with whatever comfort she could, when one of the cops blocked her path with his meaty arm.

“Are you the pie chef?” he asked. When Ella Mae introduced herself and Reba, the officer pointed at her station. “Please stand behind the counter until we’re done here.”

Ella Mae read the officer’s nametag. “Listen, Officer Tippit, I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to investigate the walk-in yet, but I could have sworn I saw a bag of chocolate melting wafers mixed in with my stuff. I didn’t think anything of it yesterday, but considering what happened to Mrs. Edgeworth, it might be relevant. Maybe it contained peanuts. Should I show it to you?”

This was a complete fabrication, but Officer Tippit took the bait and followed her to the other end of the kitchen. Ella Mae risked a backward glance and was pleased when Reba responded with a slight nod.

Inside the refrigerator, Ella Mae walked past dough balls wrapped in plastic, pints of strawberries, and bags of lemons and key limes. She paused, suddenly realizing that she wouldn’t be using any of these items today. There would be no key lime cream cheese pie, rhubarb peach cobbler, strawberry pie in a pretzel crust, faux pecan pie, or lemon tarts with a pine nut crust. Not a single pie would be baked. Ella Mae doubted she’d be instructing the Camellias tomorrow either. She’d have to pack up all this food and bring it back to The Charmed Pie Shoppe to keep it from going to waste.

“Ma’am?” Officer Tippit was gazing at her expectedly.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about the lesson I was supposed to be teaching now.” She turned to face the policeman, who was about ten years her senior. “All of the chefs were cautioned about Mrs. Edgeworth’s peanut allergy, so we didn’t bring peanuts with us. However, I’m sure peanuts are a staple in every resort kitchen. If the killer didn’t take them from the dry goods shelf, she could have had a baggie of crushed nuts in her pocket and simply poured the contents into the warm milk chocolate flowing through the fountain. The nuts would have blended in like that.” She snapped her fingers.

Officer Tippit began to look annoyed. “Yes, ma’am, but where is the bag of chocolate, er . . .”

“Melting wafers?” Ella Mae smiled at the officer. She hoped she’d bought enough time for Reba to act, because not only was her ruse coming to an end, but she was also getting quite cold.

“Yes. Where are they?”

Ella Mae pushed two tubs of mascarpone cheese aside and poked around behind a bag stuffed with rhubarb. “I thought it was back there,” she murmured, continuing to search between boxes of butter and gallons of milk.

Officer Tippit interrupted her endeavors by tapping on her shoulder and indicating a section of empty shelf space on the opposite side of the refrigerator. “Is that where you saw the bag?” he asked tersely.

Ella Mae pretended to be confused. “Maybe. It was white.” She held out her hands. “And about this big.”

“The chocolate wafers belonging to the resort were stored up there,” Officer Tippit said. “We’ve already collected those as evidence, so unless you saw another bag in a different location, you’re wasting—”

The rest of his sentence was cut off by the sound of an alarm.

Officer Tippit slammed into the refrigerator door, shoving it open wide. The piercing shriek of the alarm was even louder in the kitchen, and when Ella Mae exited the refrigerator, she saw the other officer shooing the other chefs and their assistants into the hallway.

“What’s going on?” Tippit shouted to his partner.

“Fire alarm!” the officer called back. “It’s no drill either. Orders are to take the civilians to the rear lawn!”

Reba was the only “civilian” left in the kitchen. Her eyes met Ella Mae’s and she shrugged as if to say, It wasn’t me.

“We need to clear out.” Tippit waved Ella Mae forward.

There was no choice but to do as he commanded. Within minutes, everyone was outside.

Shielding her eyes against the glare of the August sun, Maxine turned to the first officer and yelled, “Where are we headed?”

“Follow the signs for the docks! We’re gathering everyone near the magnolia on the back lawn.”

“We’ll get sunburn,” Maxine’s assistant complained. She had very fair skin and her freckled cheeks were already becoming flushed.

Maxine reached into her handbag and pulled out a bandanna. “Wrap that around your face. Sunburn is better than a fire burn, if that’s what the alarm is all about.” She glanced up at the higher floors of the resort. “I don’t see any smoke.”

Now that they’d moved away from the main building, there was no longer the need to shout. Ella Mae leaned over to Reba and murmured, “Loralyn said that we all belonged in the fire. Do you think she planned on starting one?”

“It would be a smart way of gettin’ everyone outside and generatin’ chaos.” Jerking her thumb at Officer Tippit, Reba said, “If Loralyn did this, she must have known the cops were lookin’ for her. She can use this opportunity to go after Meg and those apples.”

Ella Mae nodded while considering another possibility. “And if Meg pulled the alarm, she probably wanted to create a diversion so she could get close to one of the remaining candidates. Savannah or Loralyn.”

“What if—” Reba’s supposition was cut off by the peals of a fire engine siren.

Hugh! Ella Mae’s heart sang. The thought of seeing Hugh, of being able to rely on his strength and support in the middle of this madness, gave her a surge of hope. As insane as the day was fast becoming, Hugh could help make it sane again.

“Look! The hotel is on fire!” Caroline suddenly cried, pointing at the eastern end of the resort, where smoke poured from the shattered windows of a second-story room.

Ella Mae knew exactly which guest was registered to that room. She’d slipped a sealed envelope containing a fake note from Julia Eudailey under that same door earlier that morning.

“Loralyn,” Ella Mae whispered.

“You think she decided to start this fire right after leavin’ the cabin?” Reba asked. There was a hint of admiration in her voice. “Maybe dropped by the bar on the way back to her room to grab a few bottles of vodka? With a little booze, she could really make a major blaze.”

“Could be,” Ella Mae said. “You heard Opal. Loralyn is completely blinded by her desire. She told us herself that she’d stop at nothing to get those apples. Burning down Lake Havenwood Resort wouldn’t bother her in the slightest.”

By this time, their group had joined the resort staff, the Camellias, and the rest of the cops on the back lawn. The police were doing their best to keep the women calm, but several were close to hysteria—screeching about murder and wailing as they pointed at the flames licking at the windowsills. Bits of ash began to float out over the treetops and rain down on them like polluted snowflakes.

“I don’t see Meg,” Ella Mae said, scanning the faces of the Camellias. “Or Loralyn.”

“There’s Hardy.” Reba stood on her tiptoes. “But I can’t spot his right-hand man. Hutchins.”

“He was supposed to collect Loralyn for questioning.” Ella Mae crept to the edge of the crowd. “Good Lord, she must have used her siren’s powers on him.” Grabbing Reba’s arm, Ella Mae said, “I have a terrible feeling that he’s been incapacitated—that he’s trapped up there in that room.”

Reba’s expression was grave. “I know. My radar is soundin’ louder than the alarm. And the flames are spreadin’ fast. Whoever’s responsible for this started multiple fires at once. They won’t be easy to put out. It’s goin’ to take a while.”

“It has to be Loralyn, then. This fire gives her to time to go after Meg,” Ella Mae said, looking around for a way to escape from the cops without being seen. “If she could get Meg away from the main building, where would she take her?”

“To the cabins,” Reba answered. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and proffered it to Ella Mae.

“Thank heaven for you, Reba,” Ella Mae said. “I left all my things in the kitchen.”

Please answer, Ella Mae prayed while dialing Hugh’s number. She knew the chances of his hearing his phone were slim and that he was unlikely to answer a call in the middle of an emergency even if he did, but he picked up right away. “Reba? Is Ella Mae okay?”

“It’s me! I’m around back, and I’m fine,” Ella Mae quickly assured him. “I think there’s an unconscious police officer in Room 212. It’s Loralyn’s room. But Hugh, please send another fireman to rescue him because a second emergency is taking place and I need your help with this one. My mother and Opal Gaynor are involved.”

There was a brief pause before Hugh replied, “Just as soon as the water’s flowing, I’ll find you. Hang tight, Ella Mae. I’m coming.”

Ella Mae lifted her gaze to the pair of windows belching yellow-orange flames and black smoke. There were other plumes of smoke rising into the sky from the center of the roof. They twisted upward like reverse tornados as the crackle of the fire chewing through wood grew louder and louder.

“Loralyn might not be a killer, but she’s now an arsonist,” Ella Mae muttered darkly.

“If she left Hutchins up there”—Reba pointed at the burning eastern wing—“then she left him to die. What would you call that if not murder? Listen to me, Ella Mae. The only way to stop a runaway train is to put a stick of dynamite on the tracks. In this case, Loralyn’s the train. And you’re standin’ next to the dynamite.”

At that moment, Ella Mae caught sight of Hugh. He was running down the path skirting the western wing of the resort, his arms pumping furiously as he raced toward the back lawn. The sun glinted on an object in his right hand, and Ella Mae saw that he was carrying an ax.

Shooting a glance at Reba, Ella Mae tensed like a cat preparing to spring. “Are you ready to stop two runaway trains? Meg and Loralyn?”

“Hell, yes. Let’s go.”

The two women broke into a run.