Key Lime Pie

by Josi S. Kilpack

  She pulled her attention away from the photos and scanned the room to see if anything stood out, but quickly realized the box she was holding was the main topic of her interest. She hurried to the desk and set the box down, then pulled off the lid. Inside were several letter-sized manila envelopes. At least eight. Max had said they were deliveries. But deliveries of what? She picked up an envelope and turned it over so that the metal brad was facing her. The envelope wasn’t sealed, and she pinched the metal prongs together and opened the flap.

  Inside, she could see two sheets of paper, one letter-sized and one smaller. She dumped the envelope upside down on the desk, then turned the papers over. The larger one was a birth certificate from Louisiana for someone named Sonia Maria Hernandez, and the other was a social security card for the same name.

  Sadie replaced the papers and opened the next envelope. It held the same kinds of documents, but for a Reynaldo Miguel Hernandez. The third envelope had documents for another person, including a driver’s license. The fourth envelope was similar—birth certificate, social security card, driver’s license—but the state of issue was Colorado.

  Sadie stared at the papers for several seconds. She was very familiar with Colorado’s documentation, and if not for the fact that she was looking in a box full of various identifications from various states, she would assume these were legitimate. However, she could not think of one legitimate reason why Larry would be bringing a box full of this stuff to Tia.

  She was replacing the envelopes when she heard a car engine. Leaning forward, she could see through a space in the partially closed slats of the mini-blinds as a green sedan pulled into the gravelly driveway of the house. The sun reflected off the windshield so that Sadie couldn’t see who was inside, but she could only guess it was Tia.

  Moving fast, she put the lid on the box and hurried out of the office, pulling the door shut as quietly as possible before heading for the front door. Realizing she wasn’t going to make it outside in time, and being extremely curious about this woman, Sadie went left toward the kitchen instead of right toward the front door.

  She heard a woman talking to Max on the front porch and took a deep breath. She needed to be peppy and act as though her being here was completely reasonable. The hinges on the screen door creaked, and she turned on the water in the sink, rinsing dishes she’d already rinsed just to have something to keep her busy, as well as to let the running water warn Tia that someone was in her kitchen, giving her time to prepare. Not watching the entryway, Sadie picked up the washcloth, ran it under the water, and then rung it out. When she turned as if to wipe the counter, she found the woman from the photographs standing by the table, looking at her.

  “Who are you?” the woman asked, putting her purse on the table and a hand on her hip. The other hand held two white plastic grocery bags. The woman’s dark hair, slightly gray at the temples, was pulled into a knot at the back of her head. She was dressed in light blue scrubs and a lanyard around her neck held some kind of ID badge. “And what are you doing here?” Her face was tight, her eyes narrowed, and her tone not the least bit inviting.

  Sadie forced her smile to stay despite being thoroughly intimidated. She’d hoped Tia was sweet, soft, and meek.

  “Oh, hi,” she said, putting the rag in the sink and drying her hands on a dishtowel. “I’m Sadie, a friend of Layla’s.” She reached her hand across the counter that separated them. Tia looked at it, and then looked back at Sadie expectantly, seeming to let her gaze linger on Sadie’s hair, which likely looked as though it was coated in paste by now. Tia didn’t wear any makeup and probably didn’t know what an eyebrow wax was, but was quite pretty in an understated way.

  “You’re no friend of Layla’s,” Tia said darkly, still staring Sadie down as Sadie lowered her hand, giving up on the handshake. “I ain’t never seen you before.”

  “Well, I guess I’m more of a friend of Eric’s,” Sadie said. “You know Eric, right?”

  By the further tightening of Tia’s expression, Sadie suspected that Tia did know Eric, and wasn’t necessarily a fan. “What are you doing in my home?”

  “I made Max a sandwich,” Sadie said in her most confident tone, as though it was perfectly normal for a complete stranger to make Max a sandwich. “And I made some coleslaw with your remoulade.” She paused and clicked her tongue. “It was amazing. Would you like me to get you some?”

  “No, I would not like you to get me some,” she said, putting the bags of groceries on the table next to her purse and crossing her arms over her chest, which made her seem even more imposing. Lucky for Sadie, Tia was rather short—not more than five feet, which meant Sadie at least had the advantage of being the taller of the two. “What are you doing making Max a sandwich?”

  “Just trying to be a good neighbor,” Sadie said, feeling a tremor in her voice. Being taller than Tia wasn’t giving her the confidence she’d hoped it would. “I came over to . . . introduce myself. When I asked if Max would like a sandwich, he said I could come in. I didn’t mean to upset you . . . Tia, isn’t it? You keep a lovely home.”

  Tia continued to glare, but Sadie kept the smile up and reminded herself that she’d charmed people even pricklier than this woman before. Hadn’t she?

  “I had some of that pasta salad and the chicken you made,” Sadie said, grasping at anything to release some of the tension and hoping that food could build a bridge. “They were both wonderful.”

  “At Layla’s?” Tia asked.

  Did Sadie note the smallest softening in her tone or was she looking too hard?

  Chapter 36

  Yes,” Sadie said, nodding her head and feeling her nervous habit of talking too much taking over. “We were at the police station during lunch, and she was getting really antsy. It was so nice to come home and have it all right there, ready to eat. You take excellent care of her and, I have to admit, one of the reasons I came over to talk to Max was to meet you and ask you for those recipes. Have you ever tried the salad with mangoes?”

  Again, Tia was silent for a few moments, and Sadie’s mind started moving a million miles an hour, trying to think of what to say next while at the same time forcing herself to keep her mouth closed so she didn’t keep rambling and making a crazy fool of herself.

  “I think the oranges would overwhelm the subtlety of the mangoes,” Tia finally said. “But I suppose it’s worth a try.”

  Sadie exhaled. She’d found an in. “You might be right,” she said, nodding thoughtfully even though she still thought mangoes would be a nice touch.

  When Tia didn’t offer anything else to the conversation, Sadie couldn’t help but fill the silent spaces. “I have this recipe book at home. I call it my little black book, but it’s not what you think.” She laughed and could feel that her nerves were still in control. “It’s for recipes—my favorites, ya know—and I would love to add both the chicken and the pasta salad to it when I get home. They were really, really good.”

  Tia continued to glare at her for a few seconds before she spoke. “It weren’t nothin’ fancy,” Tia said, but her tone was improving, and she unfolded her arms. Sadie could feel the change in the air and patted herself on the back for taming this particular lion.

  “I’m not a fancy cook,” Sadie said, looking around for her purse in order to get her notebook out of it before realizing she’d left her purse in the car. Sadie had seen a couple legal pads in the office but wasn’t about to admit she’d been in there. “But I love good food, and I thought the fruit with pasta was wonderful, and the peas added just the right crunch.”

  Sadie sincerely hoped that Tia wasn’t one of those women who didn’t share her recipes—that was just uncharitable in Sadie’s mind—so she continued to smile and watch the battle playing out on Tia’s face. She was still suspect of Sadie, but couldn’t find anything to prove Sadie was any kind of threat.

  Finally, after what seemed like forever, Tia moved to the computer desk against the wall by the back door. “I think I have some p
aper in here,” she said, pulling open the drawer. Sadie smiled even wider. Once again, Sadie’s theory had been proven correct: Food was the universal common ground.

  “Oh, and while you’re at it, can I get your remoulade recipe, too? It was delicious.”

  Tia nodded, though she looked a little unsure. Still, she wasn’t able to withstand the flattery, and, if nothing else, Sadie was going to get the recipes, which made her very happy. Now to get something else equally important—information about Larry, assuming she could find a way to get it without triggering Tia’s defenses more than she already had. Hopefully their common interest in good food would build a bridge strong enough to support additional topics.

  “So,” Sadie said, as Tia found a notebook and then came to the counter to get a pen out of a mason jar near the phone. “Where do you work? Other than taking care of Max and Layla.”

  “Crestview,” Tia said, making a swirly line on the top of the paper to make sure the pen worked. It did. “It’s a nursing home.”

  Another caretaking job. “Are you a nurse?”

  Tia shook her head but didn’t look up. She had bubbly handwriting, like a young girl, and Sadie took it as one more sign that underneath it all Tia was a kind person, never mind her gruff exterior and probably illegal activities. “I’m a recreational aide,” Tia said. “Just part-time, ya know. I need to be around for Max and Layla as much as possible.”

  “Of course,” Sadie said. “You help with the activities for the residents at Crestview?”

  Tia looked up briefly and nodded.

  “That’s wonderful,” Sadie said. “I sometimes volunteer at a nursing home in my town. The ladies like having their fingernails painted now and again.”

  “They do love that,” Tia said, and Sadie saw the slightest smile on her face. Progress. She continued to make small talk as Tia wrote, asking many of the same questions she’d asked Max and getting the same answers as to how long they’d lived in Homestead and what Tia did for Layla. Tia obviously took both pride and satisfaction from caring for other people, something Sadie could relate to.

  Max had called the envelopes in the box “deliveries,” and Sadie wondered if Tia’s role in whatever was going on was based on the responsibilities Tia felt toward these other people in her life. Recreational aides didn’t make a lot of money, especially working part-time. Were the documents extra income? In Sadie’s mind it was a stretch to justify the illegal behavior as means of caring for the disabled people in Tia’s life, but then Sadie had never needed to consider such things. Neil had left her well cared for when he died, and she was industrious by nature.

  “You take care of everyone, it seems,” Sadie said. “Max, Layla, your residents. And I saw those pictures by the door—was that one photo of the boys holding up their medals taken at the Special Olympics?”

  Tia nodded, her countenance brightening considerably. “Paralympics, for people in wheelchairs. Them boys made it to regional that year.”

  “Congratulations,” Sadie said. “It’s sure a blessing to serve, isn’t it?”

  Tia nodded and offered her second small smile of the conversation. “It does my heart good to help people, ya know. Helps me forget about my own problems and feel like I’m making a positive difference.”

  “I completely understand,” Sadie said, though her thoughts were still on the box full of what she could only assume were forged documents. That wasn’t making much of a positive difference.

  Tia looked over what she’d written, added one more sentence, and then ripped off the paper, handing it to Sadie, who nearly giggled with excitement as she held the paper with both hands. Even though most recipes didn’t make it into the book until she’d made them several times, she couldn’t imagine that these would be difficult to replicate—they were pretty straightforward.

  “Thank you so much,” Sadie gushed, reading over what Tia had written down. “I can’t wait to make these myself.” She looked up and made eye contact. “You’ve made my day.” Granted, after the day Sadie had had that wasn’t hard to do.

  They fell into silence, and Sadie sensed the need to make a transition. What could she say that would be of enough value to Tia that she wouldn’t notice Sadie was seeking information? She decided to jump in with both feet and simply see how Tia reacted. “Did you hear about Megan?”

  Tia had been putting the notebook back in the desk drawer, but turned quickly, her eyes wide. “What about her?” she asked.

  Sadie noted the anxiety in Tia’s spontaneous reaction. “The body they found wasn’t her,” she said.

  Tia almost looked disappointed. “Oh, I knew that. Larry told me.”

  Aha, she’d opened the door to a conversation about Larry. “I guess you work pretty closely with Larry, huh—what with Layla and all?”

  Tia nodded, but she didn’t meet Sadie’s eyes. Tia was clearly uncomfortable talking about him.

  Tia opened one of the grocery bags she’d brought in and began unpacking the food. She pulled out a container of sour cream and a block of cheese, then made her way to the fridge. After she opened the door, she picked up the bowl of coleslaw and looked at it in confusion.

  “The Cajun coleslaw I told you about,” Sadie said. “It’s really good.”

  Tia looked at her doubtfully, but put the bowl on the counter before returning to the fridge again. Sadie hoped she’d like it. Tia took eggs out of the fridge and set them on the counter before returning to the grocery bags and pulling out a mango from a produce bag.

  “What’s that for?” Sadie asked automatically, watching intently. Tia had already proven herself a good cook, and the prospect of getting another of her delicious recipes was clouding Sadie’s objectives.

  “Mango corn bread,” Tia said.

  “Mango corn bread?” Sadie repeated, a little bit breathless. “That sounds wonderful. Are you making it right now?” She watched Tia pull a box of corn bread mix from one of the grocery sacks and felt a twinge of disappointment. Maybe she and Tia didn’t have so much in common. “From a mix?”

  “My friend Lizz came up with it,” Tia explained. “It’s easy and fast and a real crowd pleaser. We’ve got a fund-raiser planning meeting over at the Boys and Girls Club tonight.”

  Sadie watched every move Tia made, committing it to memory. After putting the mix in a bowl, Tia peeled one of the mangoes with a paring knife, letting the peel trail off in one long strip.

  “Do you mind if I watch?” Sadie asked, realizing that would fulfill both of her interests: extend her time with Tia and learn the recipe for mango corn bread.

  “Fine with me,” Tia said, and Sadie was glad that she seemed flattered rather than annoyed by Sadie’s interest. After the mango was peeled, Tia sliced the fruit while it was still clinging to the pit by making vertical cuts from the top of the mango to the bottom. Sadie usually cut the fruit off pit first, which was always such a pain.

  Sadie glanced at the clock on the stove. It was 5:20. She felt okay about not calling Eric since he was having a reunion with Megan. In the next moment she realized that while she’d told Tia the body wasn’t Megan, she hadn’t said anything about having actually found the real Megan. Sheesh, how did she forget that?

  “About Megan,” Sadie said, deciding to get more information before she dropped the bombshell. “You knew her?”

  “Of course I knew her,” Tia said, still slicing. “She came down to see her mama every chance she got.”

  “That’s sweet,” Sadie said, remembering Eric’s explanation of Megan’s relationship with her mother. He’d talked about making a distance between Megan and Layla, but then Sadie thought about the picture she’d seen in the living room. The look on Megan’s face didn’t reflect distance. “Did she come down a lot, then?”

  “Until she went away to school, yes,” Tia said. “Once or twice a month, even if it meant taking the bus down if Eric”—she said his name with a twist of her mouth—“was busy with other things.”

  “And what was it like when she c
ame down? What did she and Layla do together?” Eric had said Layla was volatile and kept Megan at a distance. Had things gotten better as Megan had grown older? Sadie wondered.

  Tia started cutting horizontally across the vertical cuts in the mango, creating a grid pattern. “Megan would do some of the cleaning, laundry, and then she and Layla would watch TV together.” She glanced at Sadie. “Their relationship was different,” she said, making a point, “but they loved each other.”

  But Eric had said Layla couldn’t feel things like love. “It must have been hard for Megan, though, to deal with Layla’s problems.”

  Tia nodded and started cutting the fruit away from the pit. Chunks of mango fell into the bowl, perfectly diced. Brilliant! “She loved her mama every way Layla would let her. Sure, Megan had her hard times, but I was real proud of the way she handled everything. Not everyone would be able to do what she did for as long as she did it.”

  “As long as she did it?” Sadie repeated. “What do you mean?”

  Tia looked up, startled as she seemed to review what she’d just said. She looked away quickly. “School, of course,” she said, talking too fast for Sadie to take it at face value. “It was real far away.”

  Sadie nodded, trying to make everything she’d learned line up in a way that made sense. “That night she disappeared—wouldn’t she have driven right past Homestead on her way to Key West for spring break? Did she stop in for a visit?”

  “She was with a friend,” Tia said, but her hands were moving faster, and she wasn’t meeting Sadie’s eyes. Did that mean Megan had stopped by? Eric hadn’t said anything about that, and Sadie didn’t imagine Tia would be lying about it now if the police had been told. “You could never be quite sure how Layla would react so Megan would have never brought a stranger by to meet her.”