“It doesn’t and I don’t. Well, it’s complicated. This dude caught me fleeing. I was hiding out from Spittle and he pinned me against the wall.”
“Oh my! Are you serious? That sounds awful.”
“Well, no. That’s the thing. It wasn’t. I mean he was hiding with me. My adrenaline was going, and he was a fine-looking young fella. Let’s just say I didn’t hate it and now I feel bad.”
“Did you kiss him or something?”
“My God. No.”
“Well then. What’s there to feel guilty about? You searched Bianca’s office and got away from Spittle. I’m assuming the mission was a success.”
“Yeah. I mean, she didn’t have the doll, but I guess so.”
“Then I say we toast to clean getaways.”
Eve raised her wineglass. “Hear, hear.”
They both drank, and Juniper continued, “If it’s any consolation, I’m happy Ren canceled on you. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. And Lord knows I needed some company tonight.”
“Been a tough week, huh?”
“That’s putting a mild spin on it. Between the reno biz, the Inn, the booth at the Winter Fair and the committee work, I’m tuckered out. Not to mention, I’ve been trying to help Pike out with the new babe. It’s really making me question whether or not I can handle kids.”
“Uh, yeah,” Eve said, and they both laughed again. “I don’t miss them days.”
Juniper leaned over the bar and rested her chin in her hands. “So... you think something’s up?”
“Huh?”
“You just said something’s going on – like what?”
Eve took a few moments to answer. “Just a bunch of weird things,” she said finally, still trying to work it all out. “Like this whole thing with Clara’s missing doll and recipe. Just seems a little to coincidental to me that Bianca Hyena tried to buy the doll from her the day before. And then there’s Gwen’s disappearance, which I’m hoping turns out to be nothing but, I mean, why would anyone leave their cell phone behind?” She paused. “Those things are practically attached to our fingertips these days. I’m wondering if it’s all somehow connected to the Pie Bake-off, which both Gwen and Clara are judging tomorrow, and Bianca’s entered.”
“Are you making a prediction?”
“No, I just have this... feeling.”
Juniper’s brow fell dramatically. “You’re not getting psychic on me, are you?”
“Oh geeze, we’ve already got plenty of those in town. Just call it intuition. I think tomorrow is going to be an interesting day.”
EIGHT
T he lake’s skating rink glistened under the sun like a diamond as the first contestants began to arrive and set up their pie tasting stations. Birds chirped in the branches of the snowy evergreen trees.
Eve and Juniper arrived on the grounds just before nine and headed first to the food tables, where they each grabbed a cup of steaming coffee and a muffin and then headed to snowflake lane where Bohemian Lake Festival Committee members, Ellie and Rebel were running the kids’ activities. The snowmobile races were up next and then it was the pie bake-off. Everything was running smoothly so they headed over to the registration table, to see who all had checked in.
“What’s this?” Juniper said as she scanned the printout.
Eve took a large bite of her banana chocolate chunk muffin. “What?”
“It looks like there’s been a change with the head judge. That should ruffle a few feathers around here, don’t you think?”
Eve wasn’t paying attention. She was scrutinizing the layout. The booths were arranged in two rows on opposite sides of the plowed area. They spotted Louise Olivet—owner of the local cheese shop shaving cheese at her pie station so they meandered over in her direction.
“What are you working on?” Juniper asked as she wiped away a few muffin crumbs that had fallen on her coat.
“Oh, my pie station’s set up so I’m just working on today’s special for the booth: Strawberry cheese danish.”
“Nice. I’m sure you’ll have long lines.”
“I don’t know. It looks like I’ve got some stiff competition out there. Harold Lumos’s got me worried with that maple stand of his. It was steady all day yesterday. His maple baked beans are delicious.”
Eve half turned to see Harold in a floppy chef’s hat, a black Artic Cat coat, and a large white apron, tied tightly around his ample belly. He was humming happily to himself. He waved when he glanced up and saw them looking his way.
“Not too worry. People will need dessert after the beans and what’s better than a cheese danish?” Juniper said and waved back.
“Besides, you’ve got the wine.” Eve added with a grin. “Anyway,” she added, taking Juniper by the elbow, “we’d better let you get on with your work. We’ll stop in a little later and taste a few samples.”
“Sounds good,” Louise told them. “I’ll save one for you!”
Eve and Juniper wandered off to visit the other booths. They chatted briefly with Harold and stopped to talk to Finn who was piping a creamy décor onto his pie and chatting with Mabe Trumpet, an ex-military officer who also one of three identical sisters who lived in the Bohemian Lake Retirement Community. In some terrible twist of fate, their parents had thought it would be funny to give them all similar names with different spellings: Mabelle, Mabelena and May-Bella. As if looking identical wasn’t bad enough. To avoid confusion, none of them went by their given name. Instead they all took variations: Mabe, Lena and Bella. Eve could always tell them apart. Mabe had a penchant for khakis and camouflage, Lena loved skirts and Bella wore glasses. They’d come to be known in town as the Mabels—Eve’s spy network.
Finn looked up as the ladies approached. “Brandy and chocolate,” he whispered loudly. “That’s the trick to winning. Always add alcohol!”
“I hear L’il Mickey’s joined the BFC,” Mabe said quietly to Eve and Juniper, “though basically Ellie’s just been using the boy as a glorified gopher.”
It took Eve a few moments to figure out what Mabe meant. “Oh, the teenager. It’s that L’il Mickey – your all things illegal internet buddy. The one with the I.D making machine.”
Mabe leaned in toward Eve. “Keep your voice down, Banter.”
As they watched the young man approach, Juniper turned to them. “You guys aren’t contributing to the delinquency of a minor, are you?”
“He’s hardly a minor,” Eve said defensively. “He’s nineteen.”
Juniper raised an eyebrow. “Hmm…well he doesn’t need to be a nineteen‑year‑old convict.”
Mabe waved a dismissive hand. “Naw, he’s fine. He’s just incredibly smart at all things techy.”
Eve’s gaze shifted from L’il Mickey to Mallory, who’d now come to join them. Mallory was short and buxom and bohemian‑looking, with long black hair that hung, when loose, below her waist. Her bright blue eyes were huge and heavily lashed, her nose and cheekbones were proudly prominent, and her wide, smiley lips were as plump as throw cushions.
“Mornin’, Eve. I’m glad I ran into you.” She took off her mittens and held out a smooth hand with well‑manicured shimmery rust colored fingernails. “There’s something I need your help with.”
Eve had been sipping at her coffee. She swallowed and lowered her cup. “Sorry. I’m on break.”
“Oh, zip it and follow me,” Mallory smirked.
Eve gave her a dirty look but followed a short distance away to the Ice Slide. “Well, Vianu. Spit it out? What’s with the cloak and dagger routine.”
“It seems we’re short a judge.” She cleared her throat, and she thought she saw a flicker of worry skitter across Mallory’s eyes.
“Who’s missing now?” Eve asked.
“Gwen. I’m so worried. We’ve called her house, but there’s no answer. And she hasn’t arrived here at the festival grounds this morning. We’re forced to go on without her.”
Eve was suddenly very worried too. “I called the police about it yeste
rday. Clara hasn’t seen her in several days. She’s worried about her.”
Mallory pursed her pouty lips and a teenage boy nearby almost walked into a tree while staring at her.
“Eyes on the road, sonny.” Eve called out. Geeze. Mallory was a road hazard.
“I’ve called Kaden to get to the bottom of it. We’re all concerned. But the truth is, we have an event to run here, and we’re short a judge.”
Eve looked at her with a confused expression on her face. “What are you saying?”
Mallory took a breath. “You should be the third judge.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Miss Clara’s thinking of backing out of the judging without Gwen here, and quite frankly, I’m hoping you might be able to encourage her to remain part of the event. For some reason, she likes you.”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Sorry. I don’t mean it like that. It’s just… well, she doesn’t seem to like everyone.”
“Oh, she’s just likes to rile people up. She finds it funny.” Eve thought about things for another moment. “Is she here yet?”
“She’s on her way. She sounds very strange, though. I think she’s been drinking.”
“Drinking?”
“Yes, she was slurring a little bit.”
Eve thought a little more. “I’ve never been a judge before.”
“You’re a natural. You judge everyone.”
Eve squinted her eyes. “If you’re trying to butter me up to do your bidding then you suck at your job, girl.”
“C’mon Eve. How hard can it be? You sit. You taste. It’s a blind test, so you won’t know whose pie you’re tasting. You confer with Clara and our other judge – his name is Wallace Nutkins, by the way.”
“Wallace... Nutkins?” Eve repeated. The name sounded familiar.
“Yeah, his family is the one who started the Sticky Family Sugar Bush and he owns all of the Nutkins Factories? Anyway, once you’ve finished the tastings, the three of you reach a consensus. The pie has to highlight the secret ingredient, which is maple this year. I’ll announce third, second, and first places. I award the trophies and ribbons. And we all go back to enjoying our free time.”
Eve mulled it over. That didn’t sound too hard. “Isn’t there someone more qualified around? What about Pike?”
Mallory shook her head. “She’s got her hands full at the moment.”
That wasn’t a surprise. “Well, what about Ren?”
“I asked him. He recommended you.”
“Oh. Blast it.” Eve had exhausted all her excuses. “Well, in that case, I guess I have no choice. I’ll do it.”
Mallory smiled. “Cool. I’ll let Clara know when she arrives.”
“Okay.” Eve let out a breath and checked her watch, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. “I have a few things to take care of first. Remember, I’m also part of the Bohemian Festival Committee.”
Mallory made a face. “Yes, about that – It’s better if you stay out of sight at the moment, judges aren’t allowed in the pie station section. You know, favoritism and all that. So, we’ll cover your duties here for now. Just don’t eat too much, and if there’s anything else, text Ellie.”
“Will do,” Eve said.
Mallory straightened. “Well, I should get back to it. Again, I appreciate this, Eve.” She handed her a silver snowflake pin. “Be at the judges’ tent at eleven forty‑five.” And with that, Mallory moved off across the festival grounds, motioning for Ellie and L’il Mickey to join her.
As Eve wandered back over toward Finn’s booth, Juniper intercepted her. “So? What’s up? You kicked off the committee?”
“As if…I got a promotion. Mallory wants me to be a judge.”
“A judge? For the Bake-off?”
“No, to the federal court.”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
“So, you’re going to do it?” Juniper asked.
“I guess so. Which means I’m no longer allowed around here so you’ll need to get one of the other Big Frickin’ Committee members to help you steer the ship this morning.”
“Oh goody!”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Mabe asked as they reached the booth.
“Eve’s going to be a judge!” Juniper said, unable to contain her excitement.
“For the Bake-off?” Mabe looked taken aback. “Why’d they ask you?”
“Careful Mabe, your jealousy’s showing,” Eve taunted.
“Well, I think that’s great,” said Finn.
Eve made a face at him. “Now don’t get any ideas. I’m going to be as impartial as possible. Besides, it’s a blind test. I won’t know which pie is yours – or at least I’m not supposed to know.”
“Right,” said Finn, picking up a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow, “Forget what I said then about the Brandy and chocolate.”
Eve sighed as she turned away. “Cheater.”
NINE
A s Eve headed away from the food festival area, and into the Ice Sculptures Exhibit, she saw Sharlene Spittle’s son, Jericho, working on an enormous polar bear. He was surrounded by a wide variety of tools: chainsaws, handsaws, hairdryers, irons and chisels to carve the ice. Clearly, he was set on defending his title. He’d won last year’s competition with a spectacular moose. One of the other poor bastards had carved a detailed porcupine that probably would have beat him, but it had collapsed during the final phase of sculpting. She’d have to swing by later and interview him for the paper. That would make an interesting piece.
“Hey Gorgeous! I’ve been looking for you.” Eve looked up and saw her honey. He crushed her to his chest and smothered her mouth an unexpected kiss.
“I’m sorry, Evie,” he mumbled, after he’d pulled away. “I shouldn’t have canceled on you at the last minute like I did. I felt bad about it all day.” His breath whooshed into Eve’s ear and streamed all the way down to her toes.
“No,” she replied. “I never should have…” Apparently Ren wasn’t interested in hearing the rest of her comment because he gave her another big fat kiss right then, making it impossible for her to speak.
When they finally came up for air, he stepped back and clasped his hands to her shoulders, holding her firmly at arm’s length. Another man had appeared at his side.
One she suddenly recognized.
Before she could say anything, he added, “Like I said, sorry about canceling on you last night. This is Sticky, sorry, I mean Wallace Nutkins, the friend I told you about—who came into town at the last minute.”
Eve turned toward the man at Lawrence’s side. It was the stranger from the museum—the one who had covered for her. He was younger and even a little taller than Lawrence, but not quite as good‑looking.
He held out a hand toward her like he’d never set eyes on her before. So, this is how they were going to play it. “Miss Banter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Please call me Eve.” She reached out to shake his hand. “So, you’re Wallace Nutkins. I didn’t know you were Ren’s friend. Should I be concerned by your handle, Sticky Nutkins?”
“Not at all. A childhood nickname given to me thanks to the family business.”
“Ahh, the Sticky Family Sugarbush I presume? I just heard from Mal that you’re going to be a judge today.”
“And I’ve just found out we’re going to be working together.”
“Wow. News travels fast.”
“Yes. I’m honored. Ren told me quite a lot about you. If you’re half as clever as he says, you must be quite a catch.” He grinned as he said it and Eve felt herself blush.
“Oh, Ren just knows where his bread is buttered, that’s all,” Eve gave Ren’s hand a squeeze and then glanced down at the fancy snowflake pin. “To be honest, I’m feeling a little stressed about judging. People round here take it quite seriously.”
“Oh, it won’t be so bad,” Wallace said, patting her arm.
“Says you. I’m the one who has to live w
ith them,” Eve retorted.
Wallace chuckled. “True. Well, just blame it on me, then, if it all goes to hell. I’ll be happy to shoulder the storm for you, Ms. Banter.”
I just bet you would, Sticky. She thought to herself.
“Besides,” Lawrence added, “you can write about it in your next column. Sort of an insider’s look at what it’s like to be a judge. The town will eat it up.”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Eve said halfheartedly. She looked over at Wallace. “So, you sponsor the event, don’t you? You own the Nutkins factories?”
“Sure do.” Wallace nodded. “Normally my VP snaps up the judging spot, but he had a last‑minute emergency,” he explained, “Of course Ren and I go way back. I’ve been meaning to visit Bohemian Lake for some time. It just worked out for the benefit of everyone. And I get to meet witty, beautiful people like you.”
“Hey! Eyes off my girl,” Lawrence said, slapping Wallace on the shoulder. He turned to Eve. “Anyway, I’m going to introduce Sticky to a couple of folks, and then we’re going to watch the ski doo races. Want to come along?”
Eve shook her head. “I’ll meet up with you later.”
Wallace flashed his dazzling smile. “It was nice to meet you, Eve.” The way he said it was so loaded that she felt even worse for having never told Lawrence what happened. “We’ll have us some fun later.”
As Lawrence and Wallace moved away, Eve felt a nudge in her back.
“Huh?” Eve turned around.
Juniper stood behind her, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Who’s Mr. Googly Eyes? She wiggled her brows and pointed with a tilt of her head at the disappearing backs of Ren and Wallace.
“The guy with the beard? That’s Sticky Nutkins. He’s the new judge today – well, the other new judge. Apparently, he’s the friend that I got ditched for and he’s here standing in for his VP who usually does the judging. And get this, he also happens to be the stranger from the museum.”
“The hot dude you ran into who practically pinned you against the wall.”
Eve nodded.
Nuttier Than Pecan Pie Page 5
