Chapter 15

Ella Mae heard someone shout, “Stop!”

The voice sounded like Officer Tippit’s, but Ella Mae didn’t turn around to confirm her theory. She kept running to Hugh. When she reached him, he crushed her against him in a fierce embrace.

“We need to keep moving,” she said, reluctantly pulling away. “Loralyn probably set this fire, but do you remember when I showed you that photograph of the Camellia Club’s founder? Margaret Woodward?”

Hugh nodded, his brow creased in confusion.

“She’s still alive, Hugh. Using the magic of the golden apples, she was able to extend her life span and become Meg Edgeworth-Ryan. I don’t understand how it works, but I know that she’s a murderer. I think she killed Bea. And this morning, Reba and I found the body of her second victim. A woman named Cora Edgeworth. Cora was playing the role of Meg’s mother.”

Hugh looked utterly lost.

“I know it’s hard to take in. I’ll explain more on the way to the cabins,” Ella Mae said and began to jog. “I have no idea why Margaret committed these heinous crimes, but Loralyn is after those apples and the two women are about to clash. Wait a second!” She abruptly halted, causing Reba to slam into her back.

“This is not the time for one of your lightbulb moments, Ella Mae!” Reba chided, rubbing the tip of her nose.

Grabbing Reba by the shoulders, Ella Mae pointed at the smoke plumes rising from the resort’s roofline. “Was Savannah on the lawn? I don’t remember seeing her.”

Reba’s eyes lost focus as she recalled the scene they’d just fled. “She wasn’t there.”

“She could be in grave danger,” Ella Mae said, her anxiety mounting. “I never considered the possibility that Loralyn might be helping Meg—that everything she’s told us has been a lie.” Ella Mae swung around, her gaze lifting to the blue hills, to the secret entrance located beyond a boulder wall. “What do we have in Havenwood that cannot be found in Sweet Briar or anywhere nearby?”

Reba followed Ella Mae’s glance. “The grove,” she whispered in horror.

Hugh looked down at the ax in his hand and frowned. “I don’t think I’m prepared to defend you. Not against a woman who’s basically immortal.”

“Don’t worry, hon,” Reba assured him. “I had Adelaide stash a few goodies in the woodpile next to their cabin. We won’t be goin’ into this fight unarmed.”

“I just wish we knew exactly who we were fighting,” Ella Mae said and started to run again.

Bursting into the same cabin she’d visited that morning, Ella Mae found the living room unoccupied.

“Mom?” she called out, hating the way her voice echoed back to her. Hugh checked the bedroom, but it was also empty.

Reba, who’d gone to the woodpile to retrieve her weapons, entered the cabin and pressed a Colt 1911 pistol into Ella Mae’s hand. She then pointed at a note on the coffee table. “Did you see this? It’s from Adelaide.”

Scooping up the paper, Ella Mae scanned the lines. “She took Henry back to Partridge Hill. He remembered an obscure but incomplete reference to the apples that he thinks may prove crucial in a fight against Margaret. My mom will call as soon as he finds the reference.”

Reba stared at the note in disbelief. “Who runs off to read books at a time like this?”

“It must be important.” Ella Mae adjusted her grip on the Colt. “Did you give Hugh a weapon?”

“She did,” Hugh said, patting his back pocket. “Though I don’t feel good about carrying. I try not to shoot women if I can help it.”

Reba glared at him. “Feel free to bury your ax in Loralyn’s chest, then. We’re not picky about how she goes down.”

“You need to realize that Hugh’s walking into this mess in the middle,” Ella Mae scolded her friend. “We barely know what’s going on and we’ve been in it since the beginning.” She put a hand on Hugh’s arm. “Just be on your guard around Margaret and Loralyn. They can’t be trusted and they won’t hesitate to kill us if we try to take those apples.”

Hugh nodded solemnly. “What’s our next step?”

“We head for the docks assigned to these cabins,” Ella Mae said. “It’s the most logical escape route.”

Reba moved to the door and did a quick check of the surrounding woods before waving Ella Mae and Hugh outside. “What about Savannah? She could be—” The rest of her thought was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She answered with a quick, “Talk to me.”

Ella Mae watched Reba’s face. At first, she listened with intense concentration, but her expression rapidly changed to one of fear. Her white-knuckled grip on the phone terrified Ella Mae. Nothing scared Reba. She’d always been fearless.

“I’ll tell her,” Reba whispered and lowered the phone. “Henry found the passage he’d been lookin’ for. It talks about a time limit on the apples’ power. They have to be renewed every century. And the cost is dear. It’s exactly one life per apple. A woman’s life.”

Ella Mae gasped. “This is Margaret’s motive? She’s recharging the apples by murdering her fellow Camellias?” She felt her stomach turn in disgust. “Bea was the first. Cora was the second. I guess Savannah is the third.”

Reba gave the door a furious kick. “We have to stop her before she takes Savannah’s life. Henry said that if Meg gets her full vitality back, she won’t be like a regular woman. She’ll be more like Conan the Barbarian meets Maleficent.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Hugh mumbled.

“Is she magical?” Ella Mae asked.

Reba shook her head. “No, but if one of our kind did get her hands on those apples, her powers would be magnified. Imagine Loralyn bein’ able to influence an entire town with her voice. She could convince every man in Havenwood to do whatever she wanted. They’d become her slaves. Or her army.”

“Lord help us.” Ella Mae was sickened by images of Loralyn wielding such power. Her twisted heart would use the apples to destroy anyone who’d ever hurt her. And when she was through with her revenge, she’d continue causing pain and destruction. Her desire would consume what little remained of the girl Ella Mae had known since preschool.

That’s exactly what Loralyn craves—to have everything and everyone that once defined her go up in flames—but I can’t let her become this dark phoenix.

Ella Mae was so caught up in her thoughts that she almost didn’t notice Reba cock her head to the side. She’d heard something.

“A muffled scream. Someone’s scared to death,” she said. “This way!”

And then she was running.

Ella Mae and Hugh followed, struggling to keep pace. Though they were in their early thirties and she was in her fifties, Reba was as fleet-footed as a spooked deer.

Reba led them along the banks of the lake and to a resort boathouse. She stopped behind a pine tree and waited for Ella Mae and Hugh to catch up.

“You’re not even breathing hard,” Hugh panted, his chest heaving.

Ignoring him, Reba pointed at the boathouse. “I think Savannah’s in there. I can hear voices, but I can’t pick up the whimperin’ I heard before, which has me worried.” She looked at Hugh. “I want you to approach by the boat entrance. We’ll take the side door. Let’s go!”

Reba didn’t bother with stealth, and Ella Mae knew there was a strong possibility that they were too late to rescue Savannah McGovern. The idea that Savannah might already be dead fueled her anger. It was one thing to possess a lust for life. It was quite another to murder three innocent women to prolong one’s lifespan by another century. Ella Mae still couldn’t believe that Margaret Woodward was Meg Edgeworth-Ryan. She remembered seeing the photograph of Meg accompanying the online article on the clothing drive the Edgeworths had organized. Ella Mae had looked at Meg’s pretty face and assumed that she was a sincere young lady. But there was nothing genuine or charitable about Meg. She was a cold and duplicitous killer.

Having reached the boathouse door, Ella Mae had no more time to reflect on the years Margaret had had to hone her ability to deceive other people. Reba pulled out a trio of throwing stars from the pocket of her cargo pants and glanced at Ella Mae, who raised her pistol to the ready position and gave Reba a quick nod.

Reba yanked open the door and the two women burst into the boathouse.

It took Ella Mae’s eyes a second to adjust to the gloom within, but Reba bolted forward. The dimness hadn’t affected her vision at all and she raced toward the rear of the building, Ella Mae close on her heels.

Wooden boards creaked and groaned under their feet as they ran, and Ella Mae knew they’d ruined any hope of surprise. Reba seemed unconcerned about this, but when they came upon a stack of canoes obscuring their view of the rest of the space, Reba signaled for Ella Mae to go around the stern end of the pile while she darted around the bow end and melted into the shadows.

The moment Ella Mae stepped out from behind the canoes, she found herself face-to-face with Loralyn, who held a shotgun in her arms. The barrel was aimed directly at Ella Mae’s chest.

Loralyn’s mouth curved into a triumphant smile. “Hello, pie girl.”

Ella Mae darted a glance to Loralyn’s right. There, tied to a chair, was Savannah McGovern. Her head hung over her chest and her shoulders were slumped. It looked as though the only thing keeping her upright were the ropes binding her to the chair. Meg stood next to Savannah. She had a small golden apple in one hand and a clear plastic trash bag in the other.

Without even looking in Ella Mae’s direction, Meg moved Savannah’s limp hand onto her lap. She then pressed the piece of golden fruit, which was the size of a crabapple, into Savannah’s palm and paused for a moment. Satisfied that the apple would stay in place, she shook out the bag. The creases and wrinkles disappeared and the bag filled with air. And then, in a swift movement, Meg pulled it over Savannah’s head.

“No!” Ella Mae cried. She’d had her Colt pointed at Loralyn so that the two old enemies were at a standoff, but now she aimed her gun at Meg.

Loralyn took two steps closer to Ella Mae. “Shut up, Clover Queen.” She spoke the title as though it left a foul taste in her mouth. “I warned you to stay out of this. But I’m glad that you didn’t listen to me. Getting rid of you once and for all is going to be the highlight of my day.”

Where are you, Reba? Ella Mae wanted to shout, but she kept her gaze locked on Loralyn. She didn’t want to indicate that she hadn’t come alone.

“Where’s runty Reba?” Loralyn asked as though she’d read Ella Mae’s mind.

“Going for help,” Ella Mae said with as much bluster as she could manage. “You need to stop what you’re doing, Meg. Or should I call you Margaret?” Her finger caressed the Colt’s trigger. She had to decide quickly if she should shoot Meg before Savannah ran out of oxygen. If only Reba would make her move, Ella Mae would know what to do. Hugh clearly wasn’t going to be a factor in this showdown. By the time he entered through the boat ramp, this fight would be over.

“I’ve had many names. It doesn’t matter which one you use,” Meg answered in a conversational tone. “You won’t be alive long enough to address me by any of them. Now, allow me to finish what I started.” She tied the bag around Savannah’s neck, leaving no opportunity for air to enter or escape.

“Stop it!” Ella Mae started forward. She couldn’t help herself. Savannah was utterly defenseless. She was obviously unconscious and would soon slip into a darkness from which she would never awake.

“Stop!” Ella Mae yelled again.

Loralyn lunged at Ella Mae and gave her a violent shove with the barrel of the shotgun.

A second later, there was a whistle of flying metal and one of Reba’s throwing stars severed the plastic bag above Savannah’s right ear. The star continued on its path, heading right for Loralyn, but she’d caught the wink of silver as it left Reba’s hand and was already reacting. Even as Ella Mae was pulling her trigger, hoping to hit Meg, Loralyn was squeezing hers in an effort to bring down Ella Mae.

Because Loralyn was in motion when she fired, her shot went wide. The shotgun blast punched a hole into the canoe behind Ella Mae’s shoulder and splinters of wood exploded in the air.

Ella Mae dove to her left, unable to see if her bullet had hit her target. Fragments of wood rained down, temporarily blinding her, and it was only the sound of Reba’s voice that saved her from Loralyn’s second blast.

“Move!” Reba bellowed, and Ella Mae obeyed, rolling farther to her left. She could feel the impact of the shotgun pellets tear into the boards where her legs had been just seconds before. Without hesitating, she fired three rounds from her pistol. She didn’t expect to hit Loralyn, but she hoped to force her to take cover.

Loralyn jumped to safety behind the canoe stack, which gave Ella Mae time to crawl behind a row of barrels stuffed with oars. She waited there for several seconds, letting the smoke clear and the ringing in her ears ease.

Peering between two oars in search of enemies, Ella Mae found Reba tearing the plastic bag off Savannah’s head. Meg was nowhere in sight.

“She grabbed the apple and disappeared,” Reba told Ella Mae as she pressed two fingers against Savannah’s neck. There was a line of blood on Savannah’s newly shorn scalp from where the throwing star had sliced her skin. Thankfully, it was a shallow cut. If Reba’s aim hadn’t been so precise, Savannah would be dead by now.

Keeping her eyes on the stack of canoes, Ella Mae got to her feet. She raised the Colt and covered Reba while she continued to examine Savannah.

“She’s alive,” Reba said. “Looks like they clocked her on the back of the head. She’s got a monster-sized bump here, but she’ll live.”

“Come out, Loralyn!” Ella Mae called. Now that she knew Savannah would be okay, she was ready to deal with Loralyn. “You’re outnumbered, so put your gun on the floor and kick it over to me or I will shoot you.”

While Ella Mae waited for Loralyn to respond, Reba crept around Savannah’s chair to where Meg had been standing. She squatted down, clasped an iron ring, and gave it a tug. A trap door opened and Reba squinted down into the opening.

“There’s a ladder,” she whispered. “And I see footprints in the mud below. We need to get Meg. She’ll just take out the next woman she sees. She’ll fill that third apple and run.” She touched her ear. “I think Loralyn left by the side door. She’s followin’ Meg.”

Ella Mae crept around the canoe stack, but Loralyn wasn’t there. “What happened to Hugh?” She pointed at the far end of the building. “He should be inside by now.”

“I don’t like how this is playin’ out,” Reba said.

“We’re not going down that ladder. We’ll leave the way we came in. I’m sure both women are headed for the dock.”

Reba shot her a worried look. “Where Opal’s waiting.”

The adrenaline that had surged through Ella Mae’s veins during the shootout instantly dissipated. Once again, she felt a cold dread sink into her bones. Outside, the summer heat did nothing to dispel the sensation, and when they reached the boathouse ramp and Ella Mae saw Hugh lying immobile on the ground, she was struck dumb with fear.

She ran to him and dropped to her knees on the rough wood, heedless of the dozens of splinters penetrating her skin. To her horror, she saw a trail of blood running from the back of his head. It seeped into the porous wood and disappeared into the thirsty ground below.

“No, no, no, no,” she whispered wildly. “You’re okay. You have to be okay.” Ella Mae searched for Hugh’s carotid pulse. When she couldn’t feel any vibration, she stared at her fingertips as though they were to blame. “Come on, baby. You have to be okay.”

Behind her, she heard the sound of Reba tearing fabric. It seemed to come from a great distance and barely registered with Ella Mae. The only thing that existed was her need to feel Hugh’s pulse beat.

She shifted her fingers a little higher on his neck and let loose a sob of relief when she felt the throb of blood moving through his artery. “There it is. I knew you wouldn’t leave me,” she said, her words coming out as a half whisper, half sob. “I can’t lose you. Not you. Not ever.”

Reba bent down next to Ella Mae and examined Hugh’s wound. “It’s not deep, but cuts on the head bleed like crazy, so we’ve got to stop that flow. Help me roll him on his side.”

Ella Mae grabbed Hugh’s shoulder while Reba cradled his head. Once he was on his side, Reba pressed one of her socks against the wound. Next, she tied the strip of cloth taken from her shirt around Hugh’s head. Knotting it tightly, she looked at Ella Mae. “You can stay with him. I’ll go alone.”

“No!” Ella Mae’s eyes flashed with anger. “Hugh ended up like this because he was manipulated and blindsided. Loralyn probably used her siren voice while Meg snuck up on Hugh from behind.” She glanced around. “See that oar? There’s blood on it. God, what was I thinking? Now that Hugh no longer has his powers, he can’t resist Loralyn’s. I deliberately put him in harm’s way.”

“We’ll make them pay,” Reba said and then held up a finger. She stood very still, listening. Ella Mae tried to see to the end of the dock that led away from the boathouse. However, there were too many trees in the way.

“They’re not on this dock,” Reba said, shaking her head. “It’s the next one.”

Ella Mae kissed Hugh’s forehead and whispered, “I’ll be right back, honey. I promise.”

And then she was running again, following Reba over the moist ground and onto the next dock. They thundered over the uneven boards, not caring how much noise they made. Both women ran with guns drawn, jaws clenched, and eyes glittering with fury.

But they weren’t fast enough.

From the far end of the dock they heard Opal cry, “No!” just before they heard the deafening report of the shotgun blast. They saw Ruiping’s body fly backward over the edge of the dock and slam into the water.

Meg turned and yelled at Loralyn, undoubtedly irate over having lost the opportunity to capture Ruiping’s waning life force, but Loralyn simply waved the shotgun at her mother.

Witch! Ella Mae thought savagely. Loralyn and people like her are why our kind were once burned at the stake. Hunted. Tortured. Driven from our homes. Because of the magical Others with evil hearts. The minority. The ones like Loralyn.

“If anyone shoots that woman, it’s going to be me!” Ella Mae yelled, but Reba responded by raising her hand, indicating they should slow down.

“Easy,” Reba cautioned. “Loralyn has Opal in a hostage position. I guess she and Meg feel like havin’ a chat.”

Ella Mae lowered her Colt. The gun felt incredibly heavy and her hand trembled. “What about Ruiping? She’ll die if we don’t get her out of the water!”

“She’s already gone, hon,” Reba said very softly. “She was shot at point-blank range.”

A searing rage coursed through Ella Mae and she fought to master it. She couldn’t allow her emotions to cloud her judgment. Not if Opal’s plan had any chance of succeeding. Earlier that morning, when they’d spoken at the cabin, Opal had predicted that Loralyn would try to seize the apples and make her escape from one of the resort’s more remote docks. Seeing the flat-bottom Jon boat tied to the cleats behind Loralyn, Ella Mae realized that her nemesis had been several steps ahead of her all along.

But were Loralyn and Meg truly working together? Because Ella Mae saw no advantage in the arrangement for Meg, and she decided to point out this fact to the murderer in hopes of eliciting useful information.

“I don’t know what Loralyn promised you, but you can’t trust her,” Ella Mae said to Meg when they were less than ten feet apart. She avoided looking down at the water, for she knew that seeing Ruiping’s body would shatter her veneer of bravado. And if Opal could be the picture of courage and composure in this moment, which she was, then Ella Mae could too.

“She promised me her mother’s life,” Meg answered tonelessly. “Which is a good thing, considering she just wasted a perfectly good one.” She threw Loralyn a look of annoyance and then focused her attention on Ella Mae again. “A shot to the knee would have sufficed. I need the life to ebb out slowly, you see. I only require a little essence—that last bit of vitality—to enter my apple. What chance do I have of capturing that when a woman has a gaping hole in her chest and is blasted backward into a lake?”

“I assume this isn’t your first time,” Ella Mae said icily. “Committing murder in order to live longer, that is.”

Meg shook her head. “This is the third century in which I’ve had to ‘spark’ the apples. I’ve never used a Camellia to provide me with essence, however. A few have served other purposes in the past, mostly in regards to my acquiring a new identity. One does what is necessary, and this time, using a Camellia was necessary.”

“Why?”

Meg flicked a wrist in Loralyn’s direction. “Because the grove is here. It wasn’t Bea’s idea to hold our annual retreat in Havenwood. Let’s just say that I helped her come up with the proposal through the power of suggestion. I had the resort mail a brochure to Atalanta House, and during our biggest fund-raiser, I asked some influential people to mention how much they enjoyed their visit to Lake Havenwood Resort in Bea’s presence.”

“And right after Bea booked the resort and hired the chefs, you killed her,” Ella Mae said. “Why did you murder her in Havenwood?”

“No one would suspect me here,” Meg said. “That morning, after I played golf with my husband in Sweet Briar, the two of us went home to shower and change. Being the sweet wife that I am, I brought him a refreshing drink, which just happened to be drugged. That boy woke up eighteen hours later with no memory of the previous day. During that time, I drove to Havenwood, called up to Bea’s room from a house phone when I knew she’d be getting dressed for dinner, and told her to meet me at the boathouse. There were a few people around that night, but there’s something very predictable about a fireworks show. When they’re going off, people look up. No one saw me moving around the grounds. And no one was watching the docks at the moment when Bea was climbing into a rowboat, so I brought an oar down on her head. I then rowed out to deeper waters and dumped her overboard. I held her hand while she drowned, and my first apple was filled with her spark.”

That’s why I never saw Bea that night, Ella Mae thought. She took the path through the woods toward the cabins and the boathouse.

“Why would she meet you by the water?” Reba asked. “She couldn’t swim.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.” Meg seemed delighted to discover this fact. “She came because I told her I’d been given the apples and that I’d learned a secret about them. None of the Camellias knew what the apples were capable of. The women sensed the apples were special, but since they were only used for ceremonial purposes and could only be handled by the president until they were returned to me, by whatever name I was using at the time, no one could fathom their power.”

Unable to keep quiet, Reba threw out her hands in exasperation. “Why take them out at all? Just to make yourself feel superior? Why not just keep them locked in a safe?”

Meg frowned, and in her eyes, Ella Mae saw the woman who’d witnessed the passage of centuries. There was wisdom in those eyes. Loneliness too. But above all else, there was arrogance. In living so long, Meg had forgotten the value of a human life. Only her own mattered. All other lives were expendable.

“At one point, those apples were a source of inspiration,” she said. “Back when I believed the Camellias could make a difference. I tried. We tried. In the beginning, we were full of passion and daring! But now?” She let loose a bitter laugh. “I’m surrounded by pampered princesses. They can raise money, but they lack spirit. They’re afraid to make noise, to ruffle feathers. They may as well be wearing corsets. They may as well return to their embroidery. I’m done with those feckless fools! I want to establish a new order. I want to rule over women who possess real power.”

“So that’s where Loralyn comes in,” Ella Mae said, suddenly comprehending Meg’s aspirations. “You want to create an order of our kind and Loralyn has promised to help you.”

Meg studied her curiously. “I didn’t think you were one of them.”

“She’s not,” Loralyn was quick to say. “She’s as weak as a newborn kitten.”

“That’s a shame. You, at least, show gumption.” Meg seemed genuinely disappointed. Removing an apple from her pocket, she caressed its golden surface with her fingertips and studied Opal.

Ella Mae felt her panic rise. “Loralyn can’t get you inside the grove. Even with the apples in your possession, you cannot enter. Only magical beings can enter. There has never been an exception to this rule.”

Meg flicked her gaze to Loralyn. “You said that I’d be able to influence all the magical people of Havenwood once I was inside. Is it true that I won’t be able to enter this special place?”

“As I’ve already explained, you need me to enter. I’ve shown you my abilities. You’ve seen what I can do,” Loralyn said testily. “You can’t listen to Ella Mae. She has no abilities. She’s an ordinary woman. A simple baker.”

Meg paused to consider this. “Yes, you were able to disarm that policeman, Hutchins, by merely speaking to him. And I heard a little boy’s voice the night Liz interrupted our ceremony as well. You have convinced me of your worth. It’s a lucky thing, too, because I didn’t want to wait this long to refill the apples. I’ve never taken such risks before.”

“Because you’ve never stood to gain such rewards,” Loralyn declared. “I told you when we were still in Sweet Briar that I would prove myself to you. I knew my life was at stake if I let you down, but I haven’t. As soon as you fill that apple, we’ll go to the grove.” She pointed toward the blue hills. “After that, it won’t matter what mess we’ve left behind. No one will be able to touch us.”

Opal, who’d been sitting mutely on an overturned canoe this entire time, now raised her head and looked at Loralyn. Her face was moon-white and her hair was damp with sweat. “You can have my life, my girl. I offer it freely. I won’t put up any resistance. Let me make up for all those years I failed you. Let me help you find your new beginning.”

Ella Mae wondered if Loralyn could actually stand there and accept her mother’s offer, but to her ultimate horror, that’s exactly what Loralyn did. Showing no emotion whatsoever, she calmly nodded at her mother. She then glanced over at Meg and nodded at her, as though granting her permission to get started.

Smiling, Meg reached into her pocket and pulled out another plastic bag.