Key Lime Pie

by Josi S. Kilpack

  Drop by tablespoons or use a 1-inch scoop to make dough balls and place on an ungreased cookie sheet about two inches apart. Bake 6 to 9 minutes or until just browned—do not overbake. Allow to cool on pan 2 minutes before moving to cooling rack. Cookies should be crisp on the outside and chewy on the inside.

  Makes 3 dozen.

  Chapter 2

  Sadie gasped and raised a hand to her mouth. She instinctively reached her other hand out to Eric, who grasped it and held on tight. Eric had told her briefly about his daughter—how she’d vanished during spring break in Florida three years ago. “They found . . . a body?”

  Not a living person.

  The tortured look in Eric’s eyes deepened. “I’ve never believed she was alive all this time,” he said. He looked at their joined hands for a moment before dropping hers. “I haven’t wanted her to be alive all this time.”

  Sadie was shocked. “What? Of course you’ve wanted her to be alive. Every parent—”

  “There are worse things than death,” Eric interjected. “And if she’s been alive all this time but unable to contact me or her mother . . .” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.

  Sadie felt her stomach drop. Three years was a long time to consider what might have happened. Sadie felt a lump rise in her throat as she glimpsed just a moment of what he’d been dealing with all these years. He held her eyes one more second before looking away. “I’ve got to get home; they need a copy of her dental records. They can’t find them in her file.”

  “The Florida police?”

  Eric nodded, already turning toward the parking lot. Sadie hurried to keep up with him. “Eric,” she said, running a few steps. “Where did they find Meg—uh, her . . . uh . . . the body?”

  “I don’t know,” Eric said.

  He had very long legs, and Sadie was in a full-on jog by the time they reached the parking lot. He pulled the keys from his pocket and headed for his Jeep Cherokee.

  “So you fax the records, and then what?” Sadie asked, still trying to keep up, physically and mentally.

  “I don’t know,” Eric said again. He grabbed the handle of the car door and pulled it open just as Pete called out from behind them.

  “Sadie?”

  “Just a minute,” she threw over her shoulder before turning back to Eric, who had one foot in his Jeep but was looking at her. “I—I don’t know what to say,” she finally admitted.

  “There’s nothing you should say,” Eric replied, no reproach in his voice. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to finish the flowers.”

  “Are you kidding?” she said. She paused again, struggling to find some way to . . . what? Comfort him? Support him? Say the right thing? “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I just hope it’s her,” Eric said, his voice soft and full of regret. “I want to know where my daughter is.”

  Sadie nodded her understanding even though she fully realized that she didn’t understand. How could she?

  A hand settled on her shoulder, and she looked up into Pete’s concerned face. For an instant she thought he was worried about Eric too, then realized he was likely wondering why Sadie was talking to Eric instead of getting ready like she was supposed to be doing.

  She turned to Eric and accepted that there wasn’t anything she could do to help him. They were only friends, but not exactly close friends—despite the almost-kiss. She hadn’t even known his daughter’s name.

  “Good luck,” she finally said, offering him a sympathetic smile. “If there’s some way I can help, please don’t hesitate.”

  “Good luck with what?” Pete asked. “What kind of help?” There was an edge to his voice that Sadie resented, a touch of envy that would have been laughable if not for the circumstances being so serious.

  Eric glanced briefly at Pete, then Sadie. “Thank you,” was all he said before he got into the Jeep and pulled the door shut.

  “What was that all about?” Pete asked as Eric’s engine roared to life.

  Sadie felt an overwhelming annoyance at the fact that while Eric was facing a horrendous discovery full of complex emotions and realizations, Pete seemed to be caught up only in his own jealousy. “He just got a call saying the police may have found his daughter’s body in Florida.”

  Pete was well aware of Eric’s daughter’s disappearance; Eric had told the Garrison police about it at the time of his and Sadie’s arrest. Sadie felt sure that Eric had hoped the information would spark some new interest in his daughter’s case, but as far as Sadie could tell, nothing had come of it.

  “Oh,” Pete said simply. He watched Eric’s Jeep disappear around the corner. After a moment he looked at Sadie. “Are you okay?”

  Sadie wasn’t sure. Over the last several months she’d been involved in no fewer than three murder investigations. First, her neighbor Anne had been found dead in the field behind her house. Then, on a trip to the English country estate of Sadie’s daughter’s boyfriend, a servant had been murdered. And just two months ago there had been a shooting at the Garrison Library fund-raising dinner. She was like some kind of murder magnet, not a title she wanted for herself. The Library Shooting, as it had come to be known around Garrison, was what had landed Sadie with three hundred hours of community service; she hadn’t exactly done what the police had wanted her to do that night. But it had all worked out for the best in the end—if “best” was the right word.

  And now, here was another body. Only this body was all the way in Florida. She was glad to be on the outside of this one since there was no room in her life for more drama. But how could she not worry about Eric? As his friend, was there anything she could do to help?

  “Sadie?” Pete asked.

  Sadie snapped out of her thoughts and looked up into Pete’s concerned eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

  “I’m fine,” Sadie said quickly, because of course she was fine, just worried. This wasn’t about her at all. “I can’t imagine what this must feel like for him.” Talking about Eric brought back the almost-kiss from a couple minutes earlier, and Sadie had to look away from Pete’s probing gaze. She felt her face heat up all the same. Would she really have let Eric kiss her? In the more than six months Sadie and Pete had been seeing each other, they had kissed only one time—and she hardly considered it a real kiss due to the high-stress situation they were both in at the time.

  Pete said nothing, just waited for her to look back at him. “So, no dinner and movie, huh?” he asked, sounding both sympathetic and disappointed.

  Sadie opened her mouth to say, no, it wasn’t a good night, and yet right on the heels of that was her own question. Why not? How would it help Eric for her to cancel her evening plans?

  You are not a part of this, she told herself, ignoring the stab of disappointment she felt inside. Was she really so arrogant as to feel left out somehow? For being a woman in her mid-fifties, she still had a lot to learn about what made her do and say and think the things she did and said and thought.

  “Of course we’ll still go out,” she said. She looked toward the street where Eric had disappeared before smiling up at Pete whose expression was unreadable. “There’s nothing I can do,” she said. “I know that.”

  “You’re sure?” Pete asked, but she could hear the relief in his tone. He didn’t seem to want her to choose worrying about Eric over spending a night out with him. Sadie hated that if he knew what had happened on the courthouse lawn a few minutes earlier, he’d be even more insecure. Should she tell him? Had he seen them?

  She and Pete weren’t serious—they’d never discussed being exclusive or anything—but neither of them were seeing anyone else either. Why did it have to be so complicated? The almost-kiss played in her mind again and she searched Pete’s face, but couldn’t determine what he might or might not have seen. He guarded his expressions well.

  She wished there were a delete key in her brain for things she really didn’t want to ponder on. And yet, even as she thought it, she felt her toes tingle at the
memory of Eric’s face so close to her own. Argh! The man had ruined her! “I just need to get those last two flowers in the ground, and then I’ll clean up. I’m sorry.”

  “No apology necessary,” Pete said, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. His hand was soft and warm against her skin and when he opened his palm, she leaned into it, absorbing the comfort offered by his touch. Wanting his touch, however, made her feel like a hussy—inches away from kissing Eric one minute and pining for Pete’s tenderness another. “And I’ll finish planting the flowers,” Pete added.

  She took note of his business attire. “You’ll get dirty,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll do it.”

  “I want to,” Pete said, and Sadie wondered if he was feeling competitive with Eric somehow. Just like when Eric offered his help, she chose to take it at face value.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll meet you at your car in a few minutes.”

  “Perfect,” Pete said with a nod.

  He turned toward the flower beds, and Sadie turned to the back door of the city offices. As she let herself inside and headed down the hall to the bathroom, however, she couldn’t get Eric out of her head. No matter how much she tried to distract herself from his situation, she couldn’t help but picture Eric standing over a fax machine as he sent dental records across the country in order to see if the body the police had found was that of his only child. What was it like to face such a life-altering situation? What was it like to face it alone?

  Chapter 3

  So, what’s with you and Eric?”

  Sadie’s head snapped up. Hadn’t Pete been talking about work? “What?”

  Pete was watching her closely from across the table at Baxter’s. His plate was clean. Sadie had taken a few bites of her chicken Caesar salad, but mostly pushed the lettuce around the bowl while listening to Pete’s voice and the other sounds of the restaurant. She wasn’t hungry. “I asked about the relationship between you and Eric.”

  Sadie searched his tone for some kind of accusation, but it was hard to read. He probably learned that trick at the police academy: Neutral Tone 101. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she said, hedging.

  Pete took a breath and leaned back in his chair. “It’s not a difficult question, Sadie, and I’m not looking for any specific answer. I’d just like to know exactly what Eric means to you.”

  “He’s a friend,” Sadie said, the almost-kiss racing to the front of her mind, taunting her once again. Was he a friend? Did friends try to kiss you, then tell you that you would kiss them first? She took another bite of her salad without looking at Pete but could feel his eyes on her as she did so.

  The waitress took Pete’s plate and asked if they were interested in dessert. “None for me,” Pete said. He lifted his eyebrows at Sadie. “You?”

  “No, thanks,” Sadie said. She felt guilty enough for not eating the entire meal; too bad salad didn’t keep well as leftovers. She gave up on the meal she didn’t want to eat and pushed the salad away. The waitress took the cue and picked up the bowl before returning to the kitchen.

  Once they were alone, Sadie looked up into Pete’s face, realizing that it would do neither of them any favors to avoid this conversation. “How would you define our relationship, Pete?”

  “I guess I would say we’re dating,” he said. “We see each other a couple times a week and seem to enjoy our time together.”

  “But we’ve been doing that for months,” Sadie said. “Do you see this going anywhere?”

  “I don’t know,” Pete said, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together before resting his hands and forearms on the table. “The answer to that question might be wrapped up in my original one.”

  Eric.

  Sadie looked down, mostly to avoid his gaze long enough to come up with an appropriate response. She’d dropped a piece of lettuce on her pants and picked it off to reveal a splotchy oil spot on her left thigh. Perfect. She looked up to find Pete just as intent as before. “What about Eric?” Sadie asked, putting her hands on the table in an attempt to stop her fidgeting.

  “You light up when he’s around.”

  “I do?” Sadie said without thinking. “I mean, um, I don’t think . . .”

  Pete surprised her by reaching across the table and taking her hand. He offered her a smile. A serious, slightly sad one, but a smile all the same. “It’s okay,” he said. “Enjoying one another’s company doesn’t mean you owe me anything.”

  What on earth was she supposed to say to that?

  Luckily, she didn’t have to answer. “Look,” Pete said, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. She felt the tenderness and warmth of his touch all the way to her toes. “I think you’re a remarkable woman, but the last thing I want is for you to be with me when you want to be with somebody else.”

  Sadie’s mouth went dry. She shook her head. “It’s not like that,” she said quietly, embarrassed to be having this discussion. Did Pete think she’d been leading him on? Where was a distraction when she needed one? Was it too much to ask for a busboy to drop a tray of dishes or something?

  Sadie took a breath. “I really like you, Pete, and I enjoy spending time with you.”

  “But?” he said, when she stopped from saying it herself.

  “But I don’t know where it’s going with us,” she finally admitted. “Things are the same now as they were six months ago and, quite frankly, at my age waiting doesn’t come easily.”

  “I agree,” Pete said, withdrawing his hand from hers and sitting back in his chair. It felt symbolic to her, his pulling away. The restaurant suddenly seemed a little cooler than it had before, a little quieter, too. They both fell silent. Sadie felt horrible. She’d said too much and it didn’t feel right in her stomach. And yet, she hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true. She’d been widowed at the age of thirty-six, and over the years, when she would allow herself to consider remarrying, she’d imagined that she’d have no doubts and no hesitation when she found the right man—much like she’d felt when she’d first met Neil nearly thirty years ago. Instead she had both doubts and hesitation when it came to Pete. Did that mean Pete wasn’t the man she’d wanted him to be? The seconds ticked by and they both sat there, avoiding being the first person to speak.

  “I can take care of that when you’re ready,” the waitress said, as she slid the black leather case in front of Pete. He smiled politely and opened it, seeming relieved to have a distraction.

  Sadie shifted in her chair. Was it fair to have Pete pay for her meal that ended with a conversation like this?

  He slid his debit card into the binder and placed it so it hung over the edge of the table a couple of inches. Then he looked up and met Sadie’s eyes. He didn’t look as tormented as she expected. Did that mean he wasn’t disappointed? Or was he simply doing the same thing with his expression as he’d done with his tone earlier—keeping it neutral? “You and I both know that life is short,” he said. “And we both know what it’s like to be loved and truly comfortable in a relationship. For that reason, neither of us should settle for anything less than that. Don’t you agree?”

  Sadie did agree and yet she felt a lump in her throat as she nodded. “I feel like I owe you an apology or something.”

  Pete managed a chuckle. “You don’t. I’ve had a really good time, and I’d rather part as friends than take it to a point where one of us will be hurt.”

  Sadie nodded again, at a loss for words. She felt like a junior high student and a very old woman all at the same time. “Does this mean we’re not going to the movie?” she asked.

  Pete smiled, but this one seemed to break his guarded expression. This time he looked sad. Sadie felt the lump in her throat thicken. “I’d go to a movie with you anytime, Sadie, but . . . are you sure you wouldn’t rather check in with Eric and see how he’s doing? I imagine this isn’t an easy time for him. Perhaps he could use . . . a friend.”

  Chapter 4

  The ride home was awkward, to say the least. There wasn�
��t much to talk about and all Sadie could think of saying when Pete walked her to her front door was “I’m sorry.”

  He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Call me when you want to catch that movie—no strings attached.”

  Sadie stepped forward and he automatically reached out his arms and pulled her into a hug that felt so comfortable, so right despite the decision they’d reached. He seemed to hold her a few seconds longer than was warranted before letting her go. They shared a look and Sadie reminded herself that this really was for the best. Finally, she thanked him and waited on the porch while he returned to his car and drove around the cul-de-sac, his headlights illuminating the other houses in the circle as he made his way out. When he turned onto the street, the cul-de-sac seemed darker than it had been when they’d arrived.

  Sadie pulled her jacket closed. The days might be warming up, but the nights were still laced with the chill of a Rocky Mountain winter. Pete’s car was long gone before Sadie let herself into the house. She felt tears come to her eyes and scolded herself for hurting a perfectly good man. But had she hurt him? He’d been rather logical about the whole thing—perhaps even relieved. Maybe Eric was just an excuse for Pete to extract himself from a relationship he didn’t want any more. And was it fair for Sadie to continue things as they were when she did have these feelings for Eric?

  “Oh, biscuits,” Sadie said as she shut the door behind her. She hated having to sort out all these thoughts. Thank goodness for the smell of cinnamon and ginger that still hung in the air from the morning’s baking. Her mood couldn’t help but lighten, and her eyes settled on the baking rack still full of cookies. She hadn’t given all of them to Tami. It took three steps to cross the kitchen, another two to retrieve the milk from the fridge, and then three more to get a plate and a cup from the cupboard.