Secrets, Lies, and Homemade Pies

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Secrets, Lies, and Homemade Pies Page 17

by Emma Ames


  After stripping the rest of her clothes, she sank down into the tub and promised to forget Ridge and enjoy the comfort of the hot water. The heat eased the ache in her muscles. The champagne and chocolate relieved the pain in her heart. She popped a piece into her mouth and a rush of sweetness melted over her tongue. She took a sip and let it mix with the Godiva. Little bubbles exploded. Heaven. Absolute Heaven.

  She grabbed her phone and pulled up her playlist, then ate, drank, and sang off-key at the top of her lungs.

  ~~*~~

  “Tizzy! What are you doing?” Rayann screamed from the doorway. “Dang, Tizzy! Is that my candy you’re eating?”

  Tizzy’s head fell to one side. “Oh—hi.” Her speech was slow, eyelids heavy, and pupils glazed over. She slurred everything together. “More—time—and—space.”

  “What are you talking about? Is that what Cooper told you?” She dipped her fingers into the tub. “We’ve got to get you out of this water. It’s ice cold.”

  “I’m sorry I ate your candy, but I needed it.”

  “Sissy, you’re past a prune. More like a raisin. Forget the candy. I can get more.”

  Tizzy flung her arm over the side of the tub and rested her head on it. “It’s no use. I’ve tried to climb out, but I can’t. I’m too tired. Just as well. I’m staying here—till—I wash him out—cry him out—and never want to see him again.”

  “Honey, he’s not worth this. No man is.”

  Tizzy whined, then cried. “Yes, he is. Don’t you understand? The man can kiss. He gave Gracie a kitten—and me a shrub. Where will I ever find another man like that?”

  Rayann blew out a long steady breath. “I understand. A kiss, a kitten, and a shrub. That’s a powerful combination. Not to mention a great title for a movie. C’mon. I’ll try to get you out of the tub.”

  Tizzy twisted to get leverage, but her legs and arms didn’t cooperate.

  “We’re not making progress here. As much as I hate to do this, I don’t have a choice.”

  Tizzy wanted to open her eyes and protest, but her brain wouldn’t make her mouth work.

  Rayann’s conversation sounded like a foggy buzz. “Dwayne? I’ve got to have your help.” She strung her words together in an octave above her normal range. “Tizzy’s in a bad way. She’s listening to Patsy Cline and singing along. You know what that means? She hasn’t listened to Patsy since Boone died. She’s been soaking in the tub for God only knows how long, and she’s drunker than Cooter Brown from champagne, and my Godiva chocolates. I’ve drained the tub, but I can’t lift her. This is all Cooper’s fault. What? Put him on the phone.”

  Tizzy raised her finger, tried to say something, but couldn’t and then Rayann yelled into the phone. “This is your doing! Tizzy told us you’d hurt her. But we wouldn’t listen. We all wanted her to be happy. Well, you’ve gone and done it now! She’s drunk, in the tub and I can’t get her out. Unless you want Dwayne to see her naked, you’d better get over here.”

  Ten minutes later, Tizzy squinted up at Ridge. “I don’t want you here.”

  “That’s too bad.” He lifted her, wrapped a towel around her, and carried her to bed. “Margie Lou, you could have avoided this with one little word.”

  “Why did you come here? Why did you have to be so wonderful? Why did you make me love—?” Her voice faded, and she half-closed her eyes.

  Ridge stepped back and let Rayann take the lead.

  “Okay, sister, Rayann said. Let me help you.”

  Rayann removed the towel, opened the drawer to her bureau, and took out a nightshirt.

  “Ridge, help hold her up while I put this on her.”

  ~~*~~

  He followed instructions. After tucking her in, he followed Rayann into the living room where Bubba waited.

  “Thanks for calling. She shouldn’t be left alone, so I’ll stay with her until you get off work,” Ridge said to Rayann.

  She folded her arms. “Thanks. It should only be a couple of hours. Why did you break up with her?”

  He cocked his head. “Is that what she told you?”

  “She wouldn’t talk about it. Today, she left a note saying she was taking a sick day. She wouldn’t answer her phone. So as soon as things died down at the bakery, Pattiecake thought I’d better check on her. Good thing I did. When I got here, she wasn’t making a lot of sense. Mumbled something about time and space, and we all know that translates to I don’t want to see you anymore.”

  Ridge clenched his jaw. “For your information, she’s the one who asked for it. Not me. I proposed.”

  Rayann gasped. “You asked her to marry you?”

  “Yeah, and she said no.”

  Bubba hooked his fingers in his belt. “Let me get this straight. You asked her to marry you. She refused. And now she’s drunk because she broke up with you? That don’t make a lick of sense.”

  “She didn’t exactly say no. She thinks we should get to know each other better.”

  Bubba smiled. “Oh, I get it. You’re giving her tough love.”

  Ridge smirked. “Yep.”

  ~~*~~

  Tizzy struggled to sit up and failed.

  Rayann flipped off her book light. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like my teeth have hair growing on them. What time is it?”

  “Six o’clock. Gracie’s spending the night with your parents again.” Rayann moved to her and sat on the edge of the bed. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you and Cooper?”

  Tizzy placed her hand on her forehead and lay back. “Was he here or did I dream it?”

  “He was here all right. Held your hair while you puked in the trash can. Stayed with you until about four when I came back. He left you some Post-its. They’re kind of crazy.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Here on the mirror.”

  “Hand them to me, please.” She took the notes and read them aloud. “Green, Presbyterian, March 24.”

  “What do they mean?”

  Tizzy pressed the notes to her chest. “It’s his favorite color. His faith and his birthday.”

  Rayann jumped up. “Oh. My. Lord. He’s an Aries. What did I tell you? Your horoscope was right.”

  Tizzy propped pillows behind her back. No more denial. She was in love with Ridge, and more time wouldn’t change that. “Bring me the notes, please.”

  Two hours later, Tizzy heard his car pull into the drive, and her heart picked up speed. She leaned her head forward and fluffed out her hair, then slung it back and hoped for a sexy effect. Climbing onto his bed, she planted herself in the middle, undid the top of her blouse, buttoned it, then unbuttoned it again. Crap, what was she doing?

  He loved her. He’d said so. He’d forgive her—or would he? A refused marriage proposal had to be one of the worse blows to a man’s ego, and she’d wielded a good one. The notes rustled when he opened the back door. Within a minute, he appeared and looked surprised to see her. He leaned against the jamb and flipped his finger out with a note stuck to it. Along with the ninety-nine left on the wall, it had the single word yes written on it.

  “Margie Lou, you got something you want to say?”

  She swallowed hard. “You were right. About everything.”

  He cocked his head and cupped his ear. “What was that?”

  “I said you were right.”

  “Come again.”

  “Don’t push it, city boy.” She took a ragged breath. “I was falling out of love with Boone when he left. Then he died, and I hated him for leaving me. When I found out I was pregnant, I felt guilty for hating him. I was afraid I’d never find anyone else, and I’d convinced myself I didn’t deserve to.”

  She cried softly. “Then you show up, and you’re—perfect. Like Christmas and my birthday, all rolled into one. Gracie immediately loved you, and that scared me to death. I was terrified I’d love you, and you wouldn’t love me back.” She sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

  “These past few days, I realized there’s only one
place I’m not scared. Where I feel safe—and that’s in your arms. I do love you. More than anything. So if your offer of marriage is still on the table, and I hope it is, my answer is yes.”

  Ridge flashed a slow, easy smile. “That depends. Is the chicken on a June bug offer still in play?”

  “Absolutely.” She jumped from the bed into his arms, and they held each other heart to heart. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Darlin’, I haven’t had any sunshine since I left you at your mother’s house.”

  “Is that what you’re calling it now—sunshine?”

  “Shut up, Tizzy. I’m trying to be romantic.” He stepped to the nightstand, removed a small box, and sat next to her. “I love that you always smell like fresh-baked cookies, and you’re a little bit odd when it comes to dead people. But most of all, the sight of you makes me happy. So let’s try this once more.”

  He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her. “Will you marry me?”

  She kissed him back and leaned away. “Yes, but I think we should keep it a secret until the case is over.”

  He furrowed his brows. “You don’t want to wear it?”

  “I do. More than anything. But if you make an arrest or not, the investigation will be done in a few days. It’ll be better for your career to wait until then. Don’t you think?”

  He heaved a deep breath. “I just want the world to know you’re mine, but you’re right. That is the best decision.”

  She hoisted her hand into the air and stared at it. “It’s beautiful. It isn’t your mother’s ring, is it?”

  “No. Belonged to my grandmother. And just so you know—I didn’t give it to my first wife.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “For some reason, I didn’t want to. That should have been a red flag that the marriage was doomed from the beginning. You want to put it back in the box?”

  “Not until morning.”

  He smiled.

  And Ridge, by chance, are you Republican?”

  “No, is that a deal-breaker?”

  She shook her head. “Another first.”

  “First what?”

  “You’re my first Democrat.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I have seriously underestimated your party.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Days later, Ridge had a bounce in his step. Once Tizzy accepted his proposal, he didn’t think there was anything that could spoil his mood. Wrong.

  A brown envelope scraped across the floor as Ridge opened the door to Browning House. He picked the packet up and examined it. Curious where the letter came from, he stepped back outside onto the porch and scanned the area. The smell of bacon drifted through the morning air and the only sound, the chirping courtship of crickets.

  Pinching the clasp together, he lifted the flap and removed the contents. The heading on the first page read: Brownsboro Clinic Insulin Patients. He replaced the pages and sprinted across the lawn.

  Soon she’d leave to take part in the breast cancer awareness ‘Walk for a Cure’ campaign. He yelled as he went inside. “Tizzy!”

  Her answer echoed down the hall. “Back here.”

  When he stepped into the bedroom, he lost his thought. The slogan on her shirt, Help Save Second Base—Walk for a Cure, stretched tight over her chest. He flashed the brown envelope. “You know anything about this?”

  She continued to tuck in her shirt. “I don’t think so.”

  “C’mon, Tizzy, do you have any idea how much trouble you can get in for doing this?”

  She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on her socks and shoes. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  “This is a list of insulin patients from the clinic. I found it under my door. How do you think it got there?”

  “No idea.” She tied her laces.

  “Tizzy?”

  “Are you asking as my fiancé or as a Texas Ranger?”

  “They’re the same.”

  “Nuh-uh. As my soon-to-be husband, it’s because you’re curious. As a law officer, it’s an interrogation.”

  “Cut the crap. The maximum sentence is twenty-five years for stealing medical information.”

  She grinned and wrapped a rubber band around her ponytail. “You got any proof? Fingerprints? DNA? Eyewitnesses?”

  “Dammit, only one of us is taking this seriously.”

  “Okay.” She faced him and rested her hands on her hips. “Hypothetically, let’s say I did it. Will you arrest me?”

  He stared at second base. “No.”

  “Then what’s the point of this conversation?”

  “Did you do it or not?”

  “Oh, good grief, Ridge. People hack into computer systems every day. Just because I volunteer at the clinic and have access to records, doesn’t make me guilty.”

  “Tizzy—”

  “You don’t believe me, do you? Let me ask you some questions. Was the envelope under there yesterday?”

  “No.”

  “Did you spend the night with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then ranger me this, when was I able to deliver it?”

  “Maybe you got someone else to do your dirty work.”

  “Does the list contain information that’ll help with the case?” She slathered on sunscreen.

  “You’re missing the point. If you did this, you’ve broken the law.” Watching her rub lotion on her leg caused action in his southern region.

  “What if something on the list proved someone lied about having a diabetic family member?” She squirted the other leg and rubbed long, even strokes.

  He averted his eyes. “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

  She glanced at her watch. “Oh, wow, I’ve got to go.” She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Remember, after the cancer walk, Rayann and I are going for a spa day. Tonight, I plan to grill steaks.”

  “Sounds good.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty. “Here, take this donation. I’m a big fan of second base.”

  She took the money and kissed him. “I love you.”

  “Oh, baby. I love you, too. So damn much I can’t stand it, but this is a real problem.” He held up the envelope.

  “Use it or lose it. I don’t care. But I have nothing to confess. See you later.” She disappeared down the hall.

  Damn woman. Best thing—let it go. She was right. What would he do if she’d committed the crime? He wouldn’t arrest his future bride and mother of his children. With that final thought, he walked outside, climbed into his car, and drove to town.

  After a quick stop at the bakery, he arrived at the station and found Rita at her desk about to open a pink marshmallow snowball. “Wait! I brought you something from Sweet Thangs.” He passed her a bag. “How can you eat prepackaged stuff when you’ve got homemade pastries right down the street?”

  “They aren’t open when I come to work.”

  “Is Bubba here?”

  “He’s in the break-room. Go on back.”

  Ridge stepped to the doorway. Bubba stood at the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup. Ridge pitched the brown envelope down on the table. “I found this about thirty minutes ago.”

  “What is it?”

  “A list of insulin patients from the clinic. You think Tizzy would be stupid enough to do this and get Rayann to help her?”

  “Beats me. Did you ask her?”

  “Yeah, and she denied it. But if she did do it, how many people will believe I didn’t put her up to it?”

  “I can see that might be a problem given your relationship with her.” Bubba carried the envelope with him as they walked to the front office.

  “Oh Lord, Ridge, this muffin is delicious. Thank you,” Rita said.

  Bubba added the list to a stack of other papers and looked at Ridge. “I have a warrant to serve. You want to go with me?”

  Before he could answer, Rita, interrupted. “Here comes Stella Easton.”

  Ridge peered out
the window. “Stella Easton? Why does that name sound familiar?”

  “She’s Ms. Town Talk. You’d better get ready. She fires off questions quicker than a machine gun.”

  The door swung open, and the reporter breezed inside. “Hello, Rita, Bubba.” She zeroed in on Ridge. “You must be Texas Ranger Ridge Cooper.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I enjoy your articles.”

  “Thank you. Now, let me think. You’re from Pennsylvania, but moved to Texas about four years ago, is that right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You’re transferring to the Henderson County office from Dallas, right?”

  “How did you know? I only got the call about an hour ago.”

  “It’s my job to keep up with the news. Don’t worry. I won’t put anything in the paper—unless you want me too. How’s the case going? Poor Marlene. To think, while I bought birdhouses from Carl, she may have been getting murdered. It blows my mind.”

  “What did you say?”

  “About blowing my mind?”

  “No, the part about the birdhouses. You bought them from Carl the night of the murder?”

  “Yes. My husband decided at the last minute to visit my sister, Gwen, in Arkansas. She loves my birdhouses and comments about them when she visits, so I figured I’d take her a couple. Even though it was late, I went to his house. You can’t see his workshop from the road, but I could hear his saw buzzing, so I drove on up to the shop, and sure enough, he was working away.”

  “What time was that?”

  “Oh goodness, it was about nine-thirty, and we got so busy talking, I didn’t leave until about ten-forty-five. Anyway, Gwen loved the birdhouses. My husband put them up for her, and she had birds already building nests in them before we left. Oh, goodness, I’m about to forget why I came in. Rita, I need the arrest reports.”

  “Oh, I thought I’d sent those. Just a moment.” Rita thumbed through a file folder and handed a page to Stella.

  She creased it down the middle and stuck it in her pocket. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Cooper. I’d better run along. I’ve got a deadline.”

  When the door closed, Ridge faced Bubba. “That was a stroke of luck. Carl and Leah lied about the time of their alibis. And, she lied about having access to insulin. Looks like she might be the murderer. Guess I need to pay her another visit.”

 

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