“You running to me like that is a sight for sore eyes, Ezmeralda. I’m so thankful you’re okay.” He ruffled her ears and gave her a doggie cookie. He’d already given her about ten of the things since they’d brought her home, but what was one more?

  He took his phone out of his pocket. “Louis P? You’re right. Your clients are the meanest persons God ever made. So I give. Tell your good-for-nothing buyers I’ll sell.”

  “Jack, I think it’s the smart thing to do. You don’t want to mess with the expense of–”

  Jack didn’t hear any more of what Louis had to say. He ended the call without another word, longing for the days when he could slam down the phone instead of simply ending the call with the touch of a finger.

  He got down on the ground and ran his hand over the dog’s head and down her back. “It’s just land. But you’re Ezzie. I’m not messing with those lunatics for another minute.”

  Fourteen

  How awesome would it be if a liar’s pants actually caught on fire?

  –Anonymous

  October, Friday night, one month before Dead Virgil

  Hank had pondered the information he’d gotten from Martha Maye about the Baxters for a few weeks. He decided he had to talk to Daisy about what he’d found out. He stood in front of Killer Cupcakes, staring at the display of cupcakes and a few three-layer cakes in the windows. His stomach roiled, but it wasn’t from hunger. Finally, he forced himself into the store a few minutes before closing time. Daisy was alone behind the counter.

  “Hey, you. Which flavor do you want tonight?”

  His eyes scanned the cupcakes behind the glass display case. “One of those white ones with raspberry filling and lemon buttercream icing.”

  “Let me box a few up for you.”

  “You’re too kind. And I intend to pay for them.”

  “You can intend until the cows come home, but I won’t accept your money. Besides, you’re doing me a favor. These are a day old. I’d just have to toss them, so you might as well take them off my hands.”

  “I have a feeling you’re telling a tall tale just to make me feel better, but I’ll call uncle.” He looked around the shop. “Is your mother here?”

  She stopped what she was doing and cocked her head. “Is that the real reason you came in tonight? To see my mother?” She clutched her chest. “Officer, you wound me.”

  He spread his hands palms out. “No, ma’am. I actually wanted to talk to you alone is all. I was just wondering if anyone else was around.”

  “That sounds mysterious.” Daisy handed Hank the box of cupcakes and gave him an extra one on a napkin. “I figured you could eat one now, save the rest for later.”

  “Much obliged, ma’am.”

  “Why don’t you come in the back with me while I clean up a little?” She walked to the door and turned the OPEN sign to CLOSED and turned off the overhead lights in the front room.

  “C’mon, Cowboy.”

  Hank followed Daisy into the kitchen area. “I’ve only met one other woman who called me Cowboy.”

  The racks were mostly empty, but a few had trays with un-iced cupcakes. The sink was full of mixing bowls, mixer attachments, and utensils soaking in sudsy water. The work table had crumbs and icing dotted all over the tabletop, along with several bags of icing with piping tips. Daisy opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of peach Joe Tea.

  She ignored his statement and handed him a bottle. “Here. Try this. I’m the only one in town who sells Joe Tea. But I warn you: one sip and you’ll be hooked.”

  Hank screwed off the cap and took a drink. His face lit up. He took another, bigger drink. “Mmmm mmmm. That tastes so good, I can hardly keep my toes from wiggling.”

  “I know. It doesn’t have that fake peach flavor like the other peach teas do. It’s great, isn’t it? ”

  “That’s an understatement. It’s like heaven’s elixir. Don’t tell Junebug. I like her sweet tea and all, but this beats it hands down.”

  “Your secret is safe with me. And I’ll try to keep it in stock for you.” She gestured to the table with chairs. “Sit. Eat your cupcake while I clean up.”

  Hank obeyed, but when he’d finished the cupcake, he grabbed a towel off the rack and joined her at the sink. “I’ll dry.” He was quiet for several moments and then he said, “Daisy, I have a confession to make.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him.

  “You have intrigued me, and I guess the detective in me has been a little driven to find out more about you.”

  Her scrubbing slowed and then picked up again, but she remained quiet.

  “Let me just say that I like you, Daisy Baxter. I like you a lot. My intention is not to do harm.”

  “What is your intention?”

  “Satisfy curiosity. Know you better.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

  “Okay. Tell me about your life the last few years before you moved here.” He took a bowl from her and began to dry it.

  It took her a minute to answer. “My life was very different before I moved here. I did freelance work and never stayed in one place for long. I was always on the move. It wasn’t a life for a little boy. Charlie lived with my sister, and I saw him whenever I could.”

  “That could explain the name of Wynona Baxter being listed as his legal guardian on Charlie’s educational records.”

  “Yes,” Daisy said quietly. “Yes, it sure could.”

  Daisy washed and Hank dried silently for several minutes.

  Finally, Hank broke the silence. “Daisy, can I ask you a real personal question?”

  “You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

  “Fair enough.” He swallowed hard. “A few years ago, I met a woman named Wynona, and I’ve never forgotten her.” Then he added, “I have to tell you, you remind me of her an awful lot. She too called me Cowboy.”

  “I don’t hear a question in there.”

  “Well, I see two possible scenarios. One, you have a sister named Wynona, and I met her a few years ago when I was slightly inebriated. Or two, you are the Wynona I met a few years ago.”

  “When you were slightly inebriated,” she prompted.

  “When I was slightly inebriated,” Hank confirmed, emphasizing the word “slightly” because he was more than slightly drunk.

  “So what’s your question?”

  He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He let out a breath and blurted, “Okay. I’m just gonna come out and ask: Are you Wynona?”

  Daisy finished washing the last of the items in the sink. She took a wet sponge and walked to the work space, which she began to clean. “What difference does it make, Officer?”

  He moved to stand behind her. “Prolly not a lot. Because I’m gonna know the answer the minute I do this.” He spun her around and kissed her.

  He pulled back. His eyes told a different story than his lips, and his mischievous smile gave his inner thoughts away even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. “Nope. That doesn’t feel familiar at all. But I sure would like to do it again.”

  Saturday afternoon

  “Spice Girl, things have gotten pretty hot and heavy with you and Toothpick Vic.” Caledonia pushed an apple pie into the oven and set the timer for one hour.

  “Callie, you know Victor doesn’t like it when you call him that. Can’t you think of a different nickname?”

  “Then the man shouldn’t go around with a toothpick in his mouth all the time.” She waved off that thought. “All I’m saying is y’all have gotten serious faster than green grass through a goose.”

  Paprika wobbled her head. “Well, yes, we’ve gotten close pretty fast. Did you know it takes about thirty minutes each way for him to come and see me? But for some reason, he comes nearly every night.”

  “That is sweet. Is he going to the Oktoberfest with you?” Caledonia went to the sink to wash the dishes she’d dirtied while making the pie.

  “As a matter of fact, he is. It will be his first, and I’m really looking forward to it. The Hot Dog Parade, the pumpkin carving contest, the hayrides, the everything-fried-under-the-sun, the wife carrying contest . . . All of it. I can’t wait.” Paprika grabbed a towel and leaned against the kitchen counter.

  “Don’t forget Jack’s having his book launch that day too. Louetta figured it would be a good time with everyone strolling around town and all. They’re going to do it right after the parade.”

  “We’ll be there, then.” Paprika pulled open Caledonia’s freezer and rummaged around. She stood up straight. “Caledonia, do my eyes see what I think they see? Do you keep some of Slick’s donuts in your freezer?”

  Caledonia looked guilty but admitted defeat. “Yes. In case of a donut emergency.”

  Paprika studied her friend. “A donut emergency. No wonder we’re best friends. I have cause for a donut emergency nearly every day. What about you? You having a lot of donut emergencies lately? How’s your love life?”

  Caledonia began scrubbing a bowl with fervor.

  Paprika looked over her friend’s shoulder at the already clean mixing bowl. “Hey, Rocky, I think it’s clean. What’s gotten into you?”

  Caledonia handed her the bowl to dry. “Nothing. Nothing’s gotten into me. I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”

  “Well, you’re not acting perfectly fine. You’re sweating like iced tea in August. What’s going on, Cal?”

  When Caledonia still didn’t say anything, Paprika guessed. “You’re seeing him again, aren’t you?”

  Caledonia washed some utensils, slowly nodding.

  Paprika put the bowl on the counter and threw the dish towel down. “Caledonia, I swear, I’m gonna have a full-blown come apart.”

  “Which is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “Woman, you are smarter than that. How’d he worm his way back in? Better yet, how did he forgive you for humiliating him that way at the Red Bud Inn?”

  “He was mad for a while. A good long while.”

  “I’ll say. Junebug told me he was up to the diner bad-talking all of us women. Well, mostly you and me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “We’re a bunch of busybodies who entrapped him, among other things. We humiliated him. He had to hit back. And I hear he and Mary Alice were an item again for a while. Did he tell you that?”

  Caledonia frowned. “No. But he started texting me again. And I texted back. And one thing led to another. He said he understands why I did it.”

  Paprika’s look said, “Oh come on.”

  “It’s true, Spice Girl. He knows he did a bad thing by joining that dating site. But he says he never thought we were dating exclusively. He said I never made my expectations clear. He’s seen the error of his ways and wants to change. He’s been real sweet and attentive ever since. He can be very charming, you know.”

  Paprika’s mouth went into a thin line. “That man will say anything to get what he wants and mean none of it. He’s such a liar he’d beat you senseless and tell God you fell off a horse.”

  Caledonia dried her hands. “I told you I wasn’t ever sure if we were in an exclusive relationship.”

  “And you also told me you felt like he was a player. Cal, your gut was right.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes I hate my guts.” She gave a rueful smile.

  “What about lying to you? You know full well if there's one rat you can see, there's gonna be fifty you can't. How’d he worm his way out of all the lies? How can you trust anything he says ever again?”

  Caledonia’s face fell. “Well, I didn’t think about that.”

  Paprika grimaced. “Well, think, woman. Think now. I’ll tell you what I think–”

  Caledonia sighed. “Somehow I thought you might.”

  “I’d smack the fire out of him if anyone acted that way around me.”

  Caledonia arched an eyebrow. “You always were a little more high strung than me.”

  Paprika folded her arms in front of her. “There’s no cause to get snippety with me. Caledonia, I can’t stand to see you make this big of a mistake. I know you know better. What I don’t know is why you’re going against every bit of your raising. But most of all, I worry about you. What if he just wants to date you to exact his revenge? He’s a narcissist, you know. And narcissists can’t stand for their mask to slip. You showed everybody in that bar just what a toad he is. He’s not gonna forget that.”

  “He seems really sincere now. He’s very sweet and makes me laugh. He’s affectionate. Just give him a chance.”

  Paprika grunted with frustration.

  “For me?” Caledonia put her two hands together in prayer fashion.

  “Well, it certainly wouldn’t be for him,” Paprika said before stalking out of the house, the back door slamming shut after her.

  Paprika left Caledonia’s house and drove out to Daisy Baxter’s farm. Daisy’s son Charlie and Paprika’s son, Three, were in the same class and had gotten to be good friends. Her oldest son, Henry, two years older, often played with them too. Today both her boys were at Charlie’s house. She’d have to swing by Martha Maye’s house after she got the boys since Henry’s twin, Tallulah, was there playing with Martha Maye’s daughter, Butterbean. She shook her head out of frustration. She kept forgetting that Martha Maye’s twelve-year-old no longer wanted to be called by her nickname. She had to remember to start calling her Carrie.

  She drove down the long gravel driveway and parked in front of the white farmhouse. Glancing at the time on the dashboard, she saw it was going on six o’clock. She was pretty sure Killer Cupcakes closed at five, so Daisy ought to be home by now. She’d had an idea on the way out that she wanted to run by her. Even before she knocked on the door, she could smell baked goods, no doubt one reason why her sons liked to play at Charlie’s house.

  Daisy’s mother, Kaye, answered the door and invited her in. “Daisy’s in the kitchen fixing supper. Seems like she’s always cooking or baking something, wherever we are—shop or home. Come on in, have a sit-down.”

  Kaye had shown Paprika into the living room, and it was not at all like she expected. With Daisy’s butch haircut and penchant for Army fatigues, she imagined her decorating style would be sleek and modern. Instead, it was classic and cozy, and the room was furnished with slipcovered chintz club chairs, and a large tan wraparound couch full of colorful pillows. Striking photographs and watercolor paintings hung on the walls, and a large antique quilt was hung behind the couch. It was beautiful.

  “I don’t want to impose. I just need to get the boys, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

  Daisy came in from the kitchen, drying her hands on the tail end of her apron. “You’re not in our hair. We’re happy to have the boys. It gets lonely for Charlie way out here by himself.”

  “I can imagine. You know he’s welcome to come home with Three anytime he wants.”

  Kaye giggled. “Is his name really Three?”

  Paprika smiled. “It’s a nickname. He’s named after the men in my ex-husband’s family. His real name is Sawyer Livingston Parker III. Plus, he’s our third-born child. So you can see why we call him Three.”

  Daisy sat on one of the chairs and motioned to Paprika to have a seat. “I love it. I think it’s nice to give a child a sense of belonging to the ages—you know—his ancestors. And he’ll stand out from the crowd with a nickname like Three.”

  “He certainly will.” Paprika glanced at Kaye and then cleared her throat. “Daisy, I was wondering if we could have a quick chat.”

  “Sure.” Daisy turned to her mother. “Mom, would you go find the boys and tell them their mother is here? I think they’re out in the barn.”

  Kaye grunted. “I swear I’m treated more like the hired help around here than your mother. Up at dawn, gather the eggs from the chickens, feed the pigs, milk the cow, all before breakfast.”

  “Love you, Mom,” Daisy called after her.

  Kaye waved a hand in the air and kept walking.

  “I didn’t know y’all had farm animals.”

  “We don’t.” She hitched her thumb in the direction her mother had gone. “That’s just my mama being . . . my mama. She lies like a tombstone.”

  Paprika nodded, thinking how apropos Caledonia’s nickname for Daisy’s mother was. Special Kaye, indeed. Cal did have a knack for nicknames.

  “So what’s up?” Daisy leaned toward Paprika. “You look a little stressed. You know there’s nothing a cupcake can’t solve.”

  “Well, you do make killer cupcakes, but I’m actually here for something else.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sure you know Virgil Pepper, what with his office being above your store and all.”

  “Yes. We’ve met.” The chill in Daisy’s voice was unmistakable.

  “So he’s hit on you too?”

  Daisy rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Romeo hit on me the first time I met him. And the second, and the third . . .”

  Paprika nodded. “Sounds just like him. He has an ego like a black hole.” She sat forward on her chair. “To get right to the point, he’s got some spell over Caledonia, and I need to prove to her that he’s a good-for-nothing lying liar who’d steal his mama’s egg money if it would help him get what he wants.”

  “Oh, honey, men like that need to be cut off at the knees. Count me in. What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to flirt a little with him. Just a little. But when he hits on you, this time I want you to accept. Make a dinner date or something. And then tell me when and where.”

  “You mean I have to actually go on said date?”

  “Don’t worry. It won’t last long. I’ll arrange to be with Caledonia wherever he’s taking you. Once she sees the old dog hasn’t changed his spots, all three of us will walk off leaving old Virgil at a table for one.”

  A crease came over Daisy’s forehead, and she looked worried.

  “What’s the matter, Daisy?”

  “You don’t think he’ll be elected mayor, do you? I mean, I hear he can be vindictive, and I’d hate for him to get in a seat of power and exact revenge on me through my business. It’s just starting to take off.”