Southern Sass and Killer Cravings

by Kate Young

  “We can figure this out, Felton. Maybe Carl was after you. Maybe he killed his dad because Mr. Ledbetter wanted you to have your share of the inheritance.” I began to move toward the doorway. A small scoot at a time. “Carl was having an affair with Judy. That makes him the prime suspect. Say I called you after Carl attacked me. Hit me over the head. It could work.” Another couple of scoots toward the door. I didn’t want to die here today. I didn’t want my friend to die either.

  Felton turned toward me and gave a bark of bitter laughter. In that moment, I knew all the humanity left within him was gone, like someone flipped a switch in his brain and he became one hundred percent sociopathic.

  “No.” He raised his gun.

  Involuntary tears leaked down my cheeks. I thought of all the things I should have said to everyone, and I hated that Betsy would pay for my idiotic mistake of driving out here. I sent a silent apology and love her way. My love was sent to Eddie, Alex, and Jena Lynn. Finally, I sent out to Mama, wherever she was, my forgiveness.

  “Ah, Marygene, you brought this on yourself.”

  A giant flash of light filled the room, blinding me. A loud thud rattled the dilapidated building. Through squinted lids, I tried to focus as I scooted toward the door, kicking away the debris in my path. I managed to make it to my knees. When I turned back, Felton was lying unconscious on the floor. His gun was still in his hand.

  I struggled to my feet. I had to get the gun. He could come to at any moment and still kill both me and Betsy. That was when I saw Mama standing over his body, her dainty hands folded in front of her. She was smiling.

  “You saved me,” I breathed.

  “Yes, I did.”

  We both gazed at the body.

  “He won’t wake up,” she said.

  “Still, he doesn’t need to be near a gun. The police might shoot on sight. Way too easy. This man belongs in a cage.”

  “Agreed,” she said and I kicked the gun from his hand. The force sent me falling forward, bracing myself for the impact with the floor. Mama caught me, and I sobbed with relief.

  “Eddie and Alex will be here in five minutes.” She stroked the hair out of my face. “You’re going to be okay. I set Betsy free. She was gagged and her feet tied, but her phone is with her. Her hands are free now.”

  I wondered if Betsy felt her aid.

  “If I could get to that ex-husband of yours, I’d do worse than Alex did.”

  “That might hold you back from crossing over,” I said through a half-laugh, half-sob.

  The room began to go dark, and I was fully aware I was losing consciousness again. Before I did, I felt my body being gently laid onto the floor on the porch, the fresh salty air a welcome change from the stuffy moldy air of the shack.

  I whispered, “Thank you, Mama.”

  Chapter 40

  The EMT moved me to the stretcher and rolled me toward the ambulance. My head lolled to one side, and I caught sight of Felton in the back of the squad car. That would have made my day, any other day, that was. I caught sight of Betsy. She was breathing into an oxygen mask. She slid off the back of an ambulance when she saw me. The EMT treating her helped her sit back down when she swayed. I held up a hand. She did the same as I was lifted into the second ambulance.

  The next couple of days were a blur. I woke in a cool hospital room to see different people sitting at my bedside at different times. Alex was holding my hand and whispering how sorry he was. Guilt was drifting off him. Dark circles were around his eyes. I managed to squeeze his hand before losing consciousness again. Eddie was there when I woke up another time. I think I overheard him saying he didn’t want to lose me and that he wanted to make up for all the mistakes he’d made as a father.

  Jena Lynn was there, flowers in hand. It was possible there may have been a few others.

  Felton sang like a canary. He was proud to have been the one to torment the Ledbetters. He was a real piece of work. He asked for a visit from Calhoun. Probably hoping he could get some sort of psycho book deal in the future.

  The day I was released, I still had a splitting headache. But, with no more brain swelling, I was on my way to recovery. My brother drove me home. He was fussing over me the best he could. Making sure my pain pill prescription was filled and helping me into bed. “You feeling any better? Your coloring isn’t very good.”

  He placed a glass of water on my bedside nightstand and handed me two of my pain pills. I gladly took them and swallowed them.

  I gave him a sarcastic smile. “Thanks. You sure know how to make a gal feel great.”

  His face flushed. My brother certainly wasn’t Florence Nightingale.

  “I’m just glad to be out of the hospital.”

  He took the glass from me.

  “Thank you, Sam.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed beside me. “Sure. You need anything else before I go?”

  I smiled, feeling the pain pills taking effect. It happened fast on an empty stomach. “No. You go on. Thanks for driving me home.”

  He stood to leave. “It wasn’t a problem. My shift doesn’t start until two.” That Sam, such a softy. I had to laugh. “Jena Lynn should be by in an hour.”

  “I don’t know what I would do without the two of you to care for me. I’m going to be a better sister to you moving forward,” I said.

  “Don’t get all mushy on me.” Sam rose. He was always uncomfortable showing his emotions.

  “No worries about that.” I smiled.

  “I’ll be back after my shift.”

  As soon as I heard him drive off, Heather arrived. “Marygene, you awake?”

  Sighing, I threw the covers aside and stumbled down the stairs. I needed a shower in the worst way. I tucked my hair behind my ears as I reached the bottom of the steps. The trip had taken a considerable amount of effort. “I’m up.” I was thankful for the pain relief.

  Heather’s eyes widened. She stood there in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, mouth agape, casserole dish in hand.

  “God Almighty, Heather, do I look that bad?” I asked in amazement.

  She immediately closed her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry.”

  When I shook my head, I instantly regretted it. Nausea hit me. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” I walked over to her as if in quicksand and took the casserole dish. “What happened wasn’t your fault.”

  “It’s chicken, rice, and broccoli,” she said meekly.

  The casserole was the standard delivery on occasions such as births, deaths, and illnesses. I thanked her and put the dish in the refrigerator.

  “I didn’t know. I swear to God, I didn’t know.” She was on the verge of sobbing now.

  I felt like I should comfort her. I just didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with any of this today. I was sure she’d been through the wringer. Eddie would have torn into the relationship, looking for some sort of connection between Heather and the case.

  “Of course you didn’t.” I leaned against the counter. My equilibrium would be off for a while. “Felton was incredibly clever and a man with nothing to lose. No one blames you.”

  She sat down at the kitchen table. “I just feel so stupid. All the signs were there, and I never saw them. He was around my children.” She broke down.

  I let out an involuntary sigh. “I know you’re hurting, Heather, and I wish I could help. I’m just too exhausted. I don’t mean to sound heartless, it’s just—”

  She abruptly stood. “No, you’re right. You’re the one that’s been through it.” She wiped her face dry with a napkin from the holder. “All you need to do is pop that casserole in the oven at three hundred fifty degrees for twenty minutes,” she said absently. “Try and get some rest.”

  “Heather,” I said before she left out the back door.

  She paused.

  Slowly, I made my way to her and embraced her. She seemed surprised. I could tell by the stiffness in her frame. But a couple seconds later, she relax
ed and embraced me back.

  “We’re going to get through this,” I said, “and when we do, we’re going to be forces to be reckoned with.”

  When I released her, she gave me a rueful smile. “Take care.” She left.

  I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror as I turned on the shower. Surreptitiously, I inspected the damage. Both my eyes were bruised a bluish yellow color, and my hair was a total mess under the white gauze wrapped around my head. The nurses had done their best to clean me up, but I did look a fright—an all too familiar sight. Something inside of me woke. Violence should never be tolerated. Bullying on every level needed to be terminated. I knew what I had to do. I would call Doc Tatum first thing in the morning.

  I hated the idea of another person going through abuse alone. Perhaps my story could help others. This wasn’t just about me anymore. All victims, male and female, needed an advocate, a voice when theirs was nonexistent. Arms of comfort even when they feel numb. Someone to cry for them and with them. Assurance that there is no time limit on healing and they will get there. Together, we could stand up against domestic violence. Put an end to silent suffering and march into the future as stronger, more independent beings who demand change.

  “Tomorrow will be better,” I said to my reflection. “One foot in front of the other. You can do this.”

  * * *

  The diner was hopping once again as I circled the block in Rust Bucket. The Mini Cooper had bullet holes in the trunk, and the tires had been slashed. Plus, after Betsy was trapped inside, I could never drive it again, repaired or not. Eddie had it towed away, and I was thinking I’d find something more suitable next time.

  The door tinkled, signaling my arrival. The aroma of diner food was a welcome one. I was starving. Betsy waved at me as she served a table in the back section. Jena Lynn was smiling and placing peach rolls on the decorative display plate. She hadn’t noticed me yet, but Heather had. She came up and gave me a hug before refilling a few mugs with coffee. She had a more normal countenance today, and I was glad to see it.

  Calhoun had sent flowers and was on another assignment somewhere.

  I gazed around my diner, so darn proud of my Peach family. We were a resilient bunch.

  I sat down next to Alex, who was seated at the counter, eating a potato waffle. He’d been by to check on me several times but had respected my request for space to heal.

  I bumped his shoulder with mine. “That’s my recipe, you know.”

  “You don’t say,” he said around a mouthful of cheesy potato goodness.

  Jena Lynn said he’d been in turmoil over what had happened and that he was obviously in love with me. Love was a word I wasn’t sure I trusted these days, but I was warming to it.

  Mama was MIA. Perhaps she had crossed over.

  “I do, indeed.” I reached behind the counter for a mug and held it up as Heather passed by.

  “Today a good day?” he asked, and I knew then that Jena Lynn had been keeping in touch with him.

  I smiled. “You know, today is one of my better days. I think it’s going to improve from here.”

  “That’s good,” Alex said as I glanced over my shoulder at the framed prints on the wall, halting momentarily at the one of Alex and me. Time was still marching on. “You know,” Alex said softly in my ear, “I hear that’s you and your old high school sweetheart.”

  I hid my smile behind the mug as I took a sip.

  “I also hear,” Alex continued, “that he was an idiot who didn’t appreciate what he had when he had it.”

  “That’s true. I am historically undervalued.”

  “Hey, sis,” Sam peeked through the serving window. “You want to go out on the boat with Dad and me this weekend?” Sam was really trying.

  My heart warmed.

  “That’d be great, Sam. I’ll have to check with my boss first and see if I’m on the schedule.”

  Jena Lynn chuckled. It was good to see her back to her old self. She was still in counseling, and I was glad to see it was doing her a world of good. She informed me the other day that she and Tim would postpone the wedding. I adamantly rejected that idea. She wasn’t going to put off her happiness for one single day because of me. With a half hour of assurances I was up to the task and glad to hold down the fort, she agreed to keep the dates as scheduled.

  “Let me know what the old biddy says.” Sam made a face behind Jena Lynn’s back.

  Jena Lynn turned and threw a couple of sugar packets at him through the window. He batted them away with his metal spatula.

  “You know what else.” Alex leaned in close to my ear and whispered huskily, “I heard he’s still madly in love with you and is dying for another chance.”

  Our gazes locked.

  “He isn’t concerned he’ll end up with a swift kick to the privates and be tossed overboard?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he laughed, “but he’s willing to risk it.”

  I took another sip of my coffee. “We’ll see.”

  Please turn the page for recipes

  from Marygene’s kitchen!

  THE PEACH DINER POTATO WAFFLES

  2 pounds yellow or red potatoes, shredded and squeezed dry

  3 tablespoons melted butter

  1 cup shredded cheddar cheese, plus extra for garnish

  ¼ cup diced onion

  ¼ tsp garlic powder

  1½ teaspoons Himalayan salt or sea salt

  ½ teaspoon ground black pepper

  ¼ teaspoon thyme

  2 eggs, lightly beaten

  ½ pound cooked and chopped bacon

  ¼ cup chopped chives for garnish

  Preheat the waffle iron according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Spray the waffle iron with cooking spray, if required.

  Toss the potatoes with butter, cheese, onion, garlic powder, salt, pepper, and thyme in a bowl until evenly coated. Stir eggs into the potato mixture.

  Spoon some potato mixture onto the preheated waffle iron; cook until the potatoes are tender and golden brown, 5 to 8 minutes. Repeat with the remaining potato mixture.

  Garnish with crispy bacon, chives, and extra cheese.

  TO DIE FOR CHOCOLATE MANGO BEER CAKE WITH CHOCOLATE-COCONUT-RASPBERRY FROSTING

  1½ cups Blue Moon Mango beer

  1½ cups unsalted butter

  1 cup dark chocolate cocoa powder

  3 cups Swans Down cake flour

  3 cups brown sugar

  2¼ teaspoons baking powder

  ½ teaspoon salt

  4 large eggs

  ¾ cup sour cream

  Preheat the oven to 350°F.

  Spray two 8-inch cake pans 3 inches deep with baking spray. Line the bottoms with parchment paper circles.

  Place the mango beer and butter in a large saucepan. Heat on medium until the butter melts.

  Remove the pan from heat and add cocoa powder. Whisk until smooth. Set aside to cool to room temperature.

  In a ziplock bag or bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt.

  In a mixing bowl fitted with the paddle attachment, beat together eggs and sour cream.

  Add the cool beer-cocoa mixture and mix on low. Scrape down the sides and add the flour mixture. Mix for about a minute and divide between the pans.

  Bake 30 to 35 minutes or until a cake tester comes out clean. Don’t overbake.

  Cool on a rack in the pans for 10 minutes before turning out and allowing the cakes to finish cooling on the rack.

  For the frosting

  2 cups heavy whipping cream

  1 pound semisweet chocolate

  2 teaspoons vanilla extract

  Shredded sweetened coconut

  Raspberries

  Heat cream in a saucepan or microwave and bring it to a simmer. Place the chocolate in a large heatproof bowl. Pour the hot cream over the chocolate and stir until the mixture is completely smooth. Stir in the vanilla. Refrigerate a minimum of 1½ to 2 hours, stirring occasionally.

  Remove the parchment paper a
nd trim the cakes to a flat top. Assemble by spreading frosting on the bottom layer and topping it with shredded coconut. Top with the remaining layer and frost the entire cake. Top with raspberries around the perimeter of the layer and coconut in the middle. Chill until ready to serve.

  BACON, DILL, AND GOUDA CHEESE SCONES

  3 cups self-rising flour

  1 teaspoon salt

  ½ teaspoon cracked black pepper

  ½ cup cold butter, diced

  2 large eggs (1 for egg wash)

  1¼ cups buttermilk

  10 slices bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled

  1½ cups grated smoky Gouda cheese

  2 tablespoons chopped dill

  Preheat the oven to 425°F.

  Add the flour, salt, and pepper to a bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment. Add the butter and dill, and blend on low until the flour resembles corn meal.

  Add in the egg, buttermilk, bacon, and cheese. Mix until just combined. If the dough is a little stiff, add a splash or two more of buttermilk.

  Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface. With a rolling pin, roll the dough into a ½-inch-thick rectangle. Cut wedges of dough out to a preferred scone size and arrange on a half sheet tray lined with parchment paper.