by Krista Davis
My heart skipped beats. This wasn’t good at all. I seized some pie festival napkins and poured ice water on them. As gently as possible, I wiped the creamy pie off her face and tried to use my body to block onlookers from snapping more photos.
Bernie was feeling her neck for a pulse. When he looked up at me, I could see horror in his eyes.
Officer Wong and my former beau Wolf Fleishman, who worked in the criminal investigative division of the Alexandria Police, must have been in the crowd because they arrived immediately. They transferred her to the ground so Patsy Lee lay on her back and then they started chest compressions.
Brock hovered behind them. He knelt by Patsy Lee’s head. “Patsy Lee! Come on. You can do this, Patsy Lee.”
Peter Presley watched anxiously a foot from her feet. Willa stood beside him, looking every bit as worried as Peter.
Three emergency medical technicians arrived and took over for Wong and Wolf. They asked Brock to move back to give them room.
“She was sick this morning,” he said.
The third EMT delicately coaxed him up and away from Patsy Lee. “What time was that?”
Wolf and Wong sidled up to them. I snuck along and stood behind them, eavesdropping.
Brock glanced at Patsy Lee. “About an hour ago. She went to the ladies’ room half an hour before that, too. I don’t know if she was sick then, but she was definitely retching the second time.”
“Had she eaten any of the pies?” asked Wolf.
“No. She’s supposed to be a judge, but the judging hadn’t started. We ate breakfast at Aunt Rosie’s Diner. By the time we got here, we were all parched. Patsy Lee sent me for coffee”—Brock stopped and gestured toward me—“which I bought at Moos and Brews.”
“Why are you pointing toward Sophie?” asked Wolf. “Did she go with you?”
“She recommended Moos and Brews,” said Brock.
They all looked at me, so I nodded. But I was a little worried. If something was wrong with the coffee, I would be feeling sick soon.
Nina grabbed my arm. “Bernie wants you,” she hissed.
“Now?”
“Yes. Hurry!”
Reluctant as I was to leave, I followed Nina through the crowd. A van with the logo of The Laughing Hound pulled up on the road next to the park, with bartender Remy driving.
Bernie was in full control, directing Remy and another employee to remove each pie and load it into the van.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Patsy’s not going to make it,” he whispered. “We’ve got to refrigerate these pies.”
“She’s going to die? How do you know that?”
“Because I couldn’t get a pulse. I don’t think they’ll be able to revive her. And even if they do, we still need to cool these pies so no one else will get sick. It’s just a matter of time before Wolf throws crime scene tape around the entire park.”
I watched as Remy picked up a pie, his large hands visible through the food-preparation gloves he wore. The carefully placed number that marked it flapped loose. I envisioned the nightmare ahead—a pie that won, but had the wrong number attached. That could happen so easily if we were sloppy. I hoped the tape would stick well.
“Maybe we should call off the festival,” said Nina.
Bernie nodded. “I thought about that. But we’ve got all these pies, and people are coming from all over the place. We can’t let them down, not to mention the vendors.”
“The show must go on,” muttered Remy as he grabbed two pies with their numbers.
I felt terrible. Patsy was dying and all around her life went on. I gazed at the people roaming the park and looking at pies. Most of them probably didn’t even realize that a woman lay dead or dying mere feet away from them.
Bernie slung an arm around my shoulders. “I know, Soph. I feel the same way.”
I heard doors close behind me. Bernie and I rushed back, but Wong held out her hand to stop us from entering the area where Patsy Lee had been. We watched as the ambulance pulled away.
“Is she . . . ?” I asked.
“I can’t believe this,” said Wong. “I’m such a big fan of Patsy Lee’s. I never dreamed I would be stringing crime scene tape where she had been sitting.”
“So she’s dead?”
“They’ll probably call it dead on arrival at the hospital. Good thing Wolf was here. He’s looking for you.”
“Which one of us?” I asked.
“Both of you. He’s over by the pies where she fell. Just stay out of the crime scene.”
“Why are you calling it a crime scene? She probably had a stroke or something,” said Bernie.
“We don’t know what happened to her. That’s why we have to do it. The medical examiner might find something no one noticed, but then it would be too late to come back and collect evidence. Hundreds of people would have trampled through the area.”
People were treading over the area as she spoke. Wong made perfect sense. But it would impede the festival. What was I thinking? Patsy’s death put a huge damper on it! Nothing could be worse than that.
Bernie and I stayed outside of the yellow tape as we followed it to Wolf. He calmly examined the once-beautiful pies that slid off the table Patsy Lee had fallen onto.
Sunlight glinted on the silver that crept into Wolf’s dark brown hair. He wore jeans and a light blue button-down shirt with the cuffs rolled back. “Bernie, you were the closest to her. What did you see?” he asked.
“Not much. She seemed a little unsteady, then she fell forward.”
“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary earlier?”
Bernie groaned. “I wish I had. Not that it would have changed anything. If she had looked very ill, I think Brock and her crew would have taken her to the emergency room. I was busy with people, making sure everything was running smoothly. I had no idea Patsy Lee wasn’t feeling well.”
“How about you, Sophie?”
“I was off to the side. All I noticed were the beads of sweat on her forehead. I thought it was odd because it’s not particularly hot today. She started to speak, repeated herself like she had lost her train of thought, and then she pitched forward. But, Wolf, I spoke to her and she said her stomach was upset. Probably from breakfast.”
He scowled. “Thanks, Sophie.”
“Wolf, the night before last I was walking Daisy after dark and Patsy Lee darted out of the bushes and ran away like she thought someone was chasing her. She asked me not to say anything, but now . . . Now I wish I had.”
Wolf cocked his head sympathetically. “Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t know what would happen.” He took a deep breath and gazed around the park. “Is there anyplace we can move the pie festival to?”
Never in my life had I seen Bernie look so panicked. “I hope you’re joking.”
“What if we ask everyone to clear out for one hour?” I asked. “I know it doesn’t seem like much time, but . . .” I gazed at the expanse of grass. “Bring in half a dozen cops and they’ll have it checked out in no time.” As I spoke, I knew it was unlikely.
“Your faith in the speed with which that can be accomplished is endearing,” said Wolf. “But you’ve given me an idea. Wong!”
She walked over to us.
“See if you can get the recruits out here,” said Wolf.
Wong grinned. “This is the perfect time for them to learn how to do a grid search.”
“We’ll do our best,” said Wolf. “A couple of hours, maybe? Bernie, does that work for you?”
“Do I have any other choices?”
I groaned aloud. “It’s not ideal, but having the star attraction keel over dead isn’t exactly wonderful, either.”
Wolf looked over the top of my head. “And here come the press. That’s all we need.”
“Wong”—Wolf pointed toward the TV vans arriving on the street—“see if you can head them off. Sophie, Bernie, get the vendors out of here. No packing up their tents. Just move everyone out.”
/> Wolf picked up the microphone and tapped on it. The high-pitched squeals drew the attention of the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the Alexandria Police. Due to circumstances beyond our control we have to ask you to leave the park for a short time. That includes the vendors and all participants. As soon as we’re done, the festival will resume. You can anticipate that it will take a few hours. This would be a good time to grab lunch at one of our fine restaurants. Thank you for your cooperation.”
A buzz ran through the crowd. The vendors were irate and I couldn’t blame them. They had to fit their pies into coolers quickly and trust that no one would meddle with their setups.
It turned out that Bernie and I were pretty good sheepdogs. Or maybe word had spread about Patsy Lee’s condition and that was the reason most of them were cooperative, even if they weren’t happy about it.
In my hurry to clear everyone out, I forgot about Patsy Lee’s friends—until I found Willa staring at the spot where Patsy Lee had been sitting. Willa seemed rooted to the ground. Tears rolled down her face, but she made no effort to wipe them away.
I touched her arm gently. “Willa? Are you okay?”
Her voice raspy, she said, “We were best friends once. There was a time when we were almost inseparable. I was so busy being angry with her that I’d forgotten about the good times we had. And now it’s too late.”
“I’m so sorry, Willa.” I could see Wolf signaling me to get her out of there. “Honey, we need to move across the street. The police have to make sure there was no foul play.”
Willa finally changed her focus from the spot where Patsy Lee had taken her last breath to my face. “Nooo,” she breathed. Her head hung down and she sobbed aloud. “I wish . . . I wish she had never . . . changed.”
“Willa, we have to go,” I coaxed.
She staggered across the street as though she could barely function. “Peter. Where is Peter?”
I spied him in the crowd on the sidewalk, talking with members of Patsy Lee’s entourage. I propelled her toward him. Peter opened his arms and embraced her. The two of them cried together, Willa sobbing so hard that her shoulders shook.
Someone at the police station must have worked wonders because by the time I found Bernie, the park practically crawled with police recruits.
Nina caught up to us. “I can’t believe this is happening. Wolf questioned me, but while I was talking to him, someone came up and said he had Patsy Lee’s fall on video. And you won’t believe who it was!”
I took a wild stab. “Natasha?”
Bernie hissed, “Natasha?” He scanned the crowd. “Notable by her absence. What is she up to now?”
“You did ban her,” Nina said.
“I had to,” Bernie protested. “I am not the one who baked a pie with such outrageously hot peppers that the judges needed hospitalization. So who took the video?”
“The dark shadow!” Nina said in a loud whisper.
Chapter 7
Dear Natasha,
You’re always so elegant and never flustered on your show. I wish I could be more like you. I have to bake several pies for a local event. Can I make the pie dough in advance and freeze it in aluminum pans so I’m not trying to do everything in one day?
Overwhelmed Wife in Chocolate Bayou, Texas
Dear Overwhelmed Wife,
Would you want to eat frozen pie dough? I think not. Don’t embarrass yourself by showing up with inferior pies.
Natasha
It was exceptionally bad timing. Cicely Comstock, a reporter whom I recognized from the local news, obviously had no compunction about barging in on our conversation. “Who is that? Did he murder Patsy Lee?”
The three of us stared at her in surprise.
Nina recovered first. She held out her hand. “Nina Reid Norwood. He’s been following Sophie. He turns up everywhere she goes.”
“Has he been following Patsy Lee?”
“Not that I know of.”
“How long has he been following her?”
Now Nina seemed a little miffed. “He’s been following Sophie for a couple of days.”
Bernie looked as appalled as if she had slapped him. “You didn’t tell me anything about this. Does Wolf know?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. I had been a little creeped out by the guy, until I saw him with the girl today. It wasn’t so much the way he looked, but the fact that he appeared to be watching me. On the other hand, we didn’t really know that he was following me.
“I saw him at the pie festival,” I said. “He was with a very sweet little girl who was entering a pie. He didn’t even look at me. Maybe we were wrong about him. And, for your information, Bernie, Wolf does not know, nor does he need to know. To be honest, I’m not certain that he’s following me at all, though he did seem to be lurking on our street the other day.”
At that moment Mars joined our little group. “I’ve been looking for you guys. Patsy Lee has hypokalemia.”
Cicely’s gaze snapped to him. “What’s that?”
Speaking with hesitation, Mars said, “It’s an electrolyte imbalance. Not enough potassium.”
“What would cause that?” she asked.
“Any number of things.”
“Is she dead?” asked Cicely.
Mars’s eyes widened. Poor Mars looked uncomfortable and a little bit bewildered.
I tilted my head and motioned subtly with my hand for us to move away from her. We took a few steps. I was relieved to see her asking someone else questions.
“I used to like her when I saw her on the local news,” whispered Nina. “But she’s like a coyote, roaming around and waiting to see what she can pounce on.”
“Sophie, point this dark shadow guy out to me when you see him again.” Bernie scowled at me. “I don’t like someone following you.”
Nina giggled. “Don’t worry, Bernie. He’s so skinny that Sophie could overpower him.”
I glared at her. She didn’t need to go putting thoughts like that in his head. “So, Mars, what does that mean about Patsy Lee?”
“Her cells weren’t working correctly. It’s especially important in the heart.”
“She had a heart attack?” asked Bernie.
“I don’t know about that, but low potassium can lead to heart arrhythmia.”
“Poor Patsy Lee. She reached the top and now she won’t be around to enjoy all that success she worked so hard for,” I said.
“Maybe you should postpone the pie festival until tomorrow,” Nina suggested.
Bernie sighed. “I fear that would be a disaster. A lot of people came a good distance. I’m not sure they would bother to return. We could post about it on social media, but I don’t know if that would suffice to bring everyone out again. I’ll give Wolf until one o’clock. If he doesn’t release the vendor area by then, I’ll see what we can do about a one-day delay.”
“How about some lunch while we wait?” I asked. “I’m parched and I left my iced coffee in the crime scene zone.”
Bernie stared at me. “Okay. Maybe we’ll see this Dark Shadow fellow.”
We headed for Moos & Brews, which I was certain would be swamped. But when we arrived, the doors were locked and a big handwritten sign was taped to the inside of the glass door: Temporarily Closed. Please check back.
“They ran out of coffee!” Nina exclaimed.
“I don’t think so.” I pointed at the people inside. “They’re not drinking coffee.”
Nina peered inside. “Cops?”
“The last thing Patsy Lee was known to consume was coffee from Moos and Brews. They shut it down fast!” I gulped and concentrated on my own stomach. I felt okay. I looked around. “I bet they shut down the diner where she ate breakfast, too.” Was it selfish of me to hope that was where Patsy Lee ate whatever made her sick? Had I consumed the same thing? It was a scary thought. I wondered if anyone else had fallen ill. Moos and Brews had sold a lot of coffee to people attending the pie festival.
We moved on to Le Sandw
ich, where we bought turkey heros to take out, and I splurged on a strawberry milk shake. After all, it would probably be good to drink milk to coat my stomach. Just in case. I hadn’t had one since I was a kid. It was so thick, I couldn’t even sip it through the straw on the way back to the park.
There wasn’t anyplace to sit on the sidewalks across the street from the park. We found a tree a good bit farther down that was outside of the yellow crime-scene tape, and we ate in its shade, watching the police recruits line up and walk in a tight row, examining the ground. I suspected that anything they found would be from the crowd and not helpful, but who knew? Maybe they would find something with DNA on it that would later match a suspect and indicate his or her presence. I guessed an attorney could argue that it had been there for days. Still, as Wong had pointed out, it was now or never for collecting evidence.
At twelve forty-five Wolf crossed the street to us. “Sorry to have to do that, Bernie. I’m keeping the center where Patsy Lee sat cordoned off, and I’d appreciate your assistance in making sure people stay out of there so it won’t be further contaminated. But you can let the vendors back in and continue with the pie festival.”
“Can you bring the microphone out to me so we can use it?” asked Bernie.
“Sure. No problem. Thanks for cooperating.” Wolf smiled at him.
“Any news about Patsy Lee?” I asked.
“They tell me it’s all over the news that she died. I haven’t heard anything official.”
We dumped our wrappers in the trash and hurried back into the park. While Bernie hit the microphone and announced that the pie festival was back on, Nina and I rearranged tables so the focus wouldn’t be on the site of Patsy Lee’s death. Wong enlisted the aid of police recruits in removing the crime scene tape, which surrounded the park.
People flooded back in. I had been afraid that many would lose interest and leave, but there was no sign of that.
Nina whispered, “I think people came to see the scene of the crime.”
I cringed at the thought. But when I gazed over at the area that had been cordoned off, tears sprang to my eyes. People were leaving flowers there in memory of Patsy Lee. One fellow even brought a pie and set it next to a framed photograph of her.
