A. Gardner - Poppy Peters 01 - Southern Peach Pie and A Dead Guy (17 page)

I walk into our apartment back in Georgia and smell something burning. I wrinkle my nose, not used to this sort of thing because
Bree
is my roommate. She always says it's better to undercook something than it is to overcook something. I've never seen her burn a thing.
Never.

"It's a sign from on high!" Bree shouts hysterically. "It's wrong. This is all wrong." She runs to the oven with a frown on her face and waves away a small cloud of smoke. She pulls a blackened pan out of the oven. I glance at it. My face twinges when I see rock hard brownies.

"It's okay." I attempt to calm her down but her face is flushed, and she looks like she might be wearing the same outfit she wore yesterday. And the day before that.

"It's not okay." She sits at the kitchen table and puts her head down. I glance at the pan, but none of the brownies are salvageable.

"So just try again," I suggest.

"I have." She sniffs and lifts her head only long enough to wipe her nose. "I've tried many, many times, but nothing ever works. I'm cursed. I should have never gone to that party during the break."

"Okay?" I say, unsure why she's having a meltdown over an overestimated baking time.

"I got my hair done," she goes on. "I bought a new dress. I made those mini cheesecakes that he likes so much."

"We are talking about
brownies
here?"

"I knew he had a thing for brunettes," she mutters. "But I didn't think he would bring one home to
marry
. I'm cursed. I have to be. I bet you anything some voodoo witch doctor cast a spell on me that time in college when my sorority sisters and I all went to New Orleans for Mardi Gras."

"Right," I improvise. "Because brownies and Louisiana can do all those things."

She finally takes a breath and looks up at me. She rubs her eyes, and I notice that her whole face looks ragged like she hasn't been able to sleep in days. I open the window in the kitchen to air out the smell and take a seat next to her.

"I take it your holiday wasn't pleasant?"

"My neighbor Todd," she responds. "I've had a crush on him since we were nine. He usually comes to my mom's Christmas party alone, but this time he brought a date." She rolls her eyes. "She had a ring on her finger the size of Texas."

"Ouch."

"Yeah." She glances at the pan of blackened brownies. "I need to get my mojo back if I'm going to have a chance at winning that contest."

Despite what Bree is going through, my heart leaps when she mentions the contest. I've been thinking of nothing else since I boarded my plane back to the South. I finally know what I'm going to do, and I have been practicing every chance I get.

I am going to make my grandma's candies. I don't care if they seem a little
too
simple. I don't think anyone can resist a beautiful box of gourmet truffles paired with roasted cocoa bean hot chocolate. Sometimes Grandma brewed cocoa beans the way she did coffee beans, and added a shot of the liquid to her hot chocolate for an extra kick. Like James said back in Alabama, it's a dessert that brings back all the good memories I have of my grandmother. To me that's a dish worth sharing.

"So have you locked down the red velvet layered cake?"

"Yeah." She nods. "That cake is my pride and joy." She pauses for a minute. "Dang.
That's
what I should have made for Todd this year."

"Don't worry about him, Bree. It's his loss."

"Maybe it won't last?" She shrugs. "What about you? Have you decided to enter a napoleon?"

"That was a bad idea the moment I thought of it," I admit. "No. I am going to make brigadeiro." She wrinkles her forehead. "They are handmade Brazilian truffles. My grandma's recipe."

Bree smiles.

"I bet they will taste amazing."

"As long as I beat Georgina," I reply.

"There's only one thing left to do then." She stands up and wipes at the makeup smearing under her eyes. "We need to go to the store for ingredients and get to work. The contest is next weekend."

"I can't wait for you to try one." I touch the wrinkled sleeve of her shirt. "But first, you could use a shower."

"Yeah," she responds, rubbing her eyes. "I've been a wreck ever since he introduced me to that tart."

"Wait here a second." I run to my room and dig out the cupcake painting from Lauren. Before she left she promised me that she would make me another one featuring a chocolate cupcake with rainbow sprinkles.

I return to the kitchen holding the painting, and Bree's eyes light up when she sees it. I was planning on giving her the chocolate one, but I know she would like either painting just the same. I hand it to her. Her eyes widen as she sits up and smiles, looking as if she might lick the frosting just to make sure it isn't real.

"Merry
belated
Christmas."

"Where did you get this?" she asks, astonished by the detail of each paint stroke.

"How much time do you have?"

She glances at her burnt brownies.

"If this involves girl talk you might want to hurry," she suggests. "Cole will be here any minute. I told him you were coming back today."

"Oh." My stomach fills with butterflies when she mentions his name. Other than a text message now and again, it has been a while since I've heard his voice.

Bree studies my expression. Her gaze meets mine, and I immediately look away. Bree giggles and heads towards the sink for a glass of water. She continues quietly laughing to herself as she fills a cup and opens the fridge to grab a leftover slice of lemon.

"Oh-my-gosh," she finally says. "You have a
thing
for Cole. I knew it."

"What makes you say that?"

"The look on your face," Bree answers.

"Am I not allowed to smile when you happen to mention his name?"

"It's not the smile. It's the way your entire face turns pink."

"It's a coincidence. It's hotter here than I'm used to."

"It always is, dear." She takes a sip of her lemon water and touches one of the mutilated brownies. She picks one up with a look of disgust on her face and then drops it back into the pan. It hits the surface with a loud thud.

"Hello?" There is a firm knock on the door. I answer it and feel a little flustered when I see Cole's face. I hesitate when my eyes fixate on his defined jawbone and fit torso. Bree is watching us more closely now.

"Hey," I respond. "How was your break?"

"Nothing exciting," he answers. "Except my cousin did bring an Auburn Tigers flag to dinner as a joke. That didn't go well. My uncle is a big Alabama fan." Cole spots the pan of burnt brownies and frowns. "What about you guys? Did anything interesting happen?"

Bree lightly hits her head against the table to avoid talking about her crush's fiancée. Detective Reid instructed my family to keep the incident with Dirk to ourselves, but I knew I wouldn't be able to keep the information in once I saw Bree and Cole again.

"You two better sit down," I say. I sit on the sofa in the living room and anxiously wait for them to join me.

"What happened?" Cole asks. "You seem a little…tense."

I discreetly glance at Bree. She grins and winks at me. I quickly move into my story about Dirk and the weed killer before Cole catches on. I don't want him to start asking questions and then feel uncomfortable because of Bree's awkward assumptions.

"Yeah, well, Detective Reid came to my house."

Cole leans forward in his seat.

"Why?" he asks.

"Okay," I sigh. "Maybe I should start from the beginning." I take a deep breath, wondering how they are going to react when I get to the part where I tossed food around like a lunatic until my mother started crying. "My parents threw their annual holiday party, only this time my mom had it catered, which was weird because she never does that." I look at Bree. "You were right. It was a special occasion. My brother proposed to his girlfriend."

"How wonderful," Bree responds. But her smile seems forced, and she grinds her teeth to keep herself from scowling.
Engagements
are the last thing she wants to hear about right now.

"Yeah, congratulations," Cole chimes in.

"Thanks. Anyway, I happened to be in the kitchen just before his big announcement, and I saw someone outside in the backyard, and…" This time I focus my attention on Cole because he went with me to Shurbin Farms. "I saw Dirk."

"Dirk?" Cole responds. "
Shurbin Farms
Dirk?"

"Uh-huh. Turns out he was the brains behind the operation this whole time."

"Ugh," Bree interjects. "I knew we were missing something."

"I guess Thomas Calle started smuggling stolen goods via the student bakery. He teamed up with some of the staff and made a fortune. But one night his father confronted him, they had an argument, and Thomas was kicked out."

"But he kept the business going," Bree finishes. "Impressive."

"So I guess James was lying when he told us that story about his Dad?" Cole clenches his fist.

"Not exactly," I answer. "James didn't know that Dirk's dad was Thomas' partner. Dirk took over when the two of them died, and he told me he was days away from retiring with all the cash."

"Wait a second." Cole clears his throat. "Dirk told you all that?"

"Yeah." I chuckle uncomfortably as my mind jumps back to me threatening him with a rock in the pouring rain. "He was definitely one to gloat."

"So what happened?" Bree urges me to continue.

"How the hell did he find out where you live?" Cole's jaw tightens as he narrows his eyes. He's angry that Dirk found me in the first place. "He must know where I live too."

"Don't worry," I reassure him. "He ran off, but Detective Reid's team is tracking him as we speak."

"So he says." Cole shakes his head.

"Let her finish," Bree cuts in.

"So Dirk told me all this stuff and then he ran off," I gulp. "And I looked in the trash can near where he was standing, and I found empty containers of weed killer."

"What a dick," she says boldly. She doesn't speak that way very often, but when she does I can't help but laugh.

"Bree," I scold her.

"What?" She throws her hands up in the air. "He spoiled all that good food just to get back at you. He deserves to be in jail."

"He tried to poison you?" Cole says, ignoring Bree completely. "
All
of you?"

"He tried, but I put a stop to it." I cough to clear my throat. This is the part that I've been dying to tell them. Mostly because my family refused to talk about it after Detective Reid left, and I feel like I need to let it all out of my system. "I sort of destroyed it all so no one would eat anything."

Cole and Bree look at each other.

"How?" Cole asks.

"I trashed every last dish," I confess. "I threw food on the floor, in the trash, everywhere really. No one would listen to me."

"You did all that?" Cole relaxes a little. He pauses, looking up a little as if he's trying to picture it.

"Yep."

Bree doesn't waste a minute. She begins laughing and covers her face when she can't seem to stop. Cole grins, and it makes me smile too. The way Bree wrinkles her nose when she laughs makes me chuckle. Before I know it, I join her. Cole watches me until the three of us are laughing together.

It feels good to be back at CPA.

*   *   *

I spent all night and morning making sure my entry looks exactly right. I want it to be a professional version of my grandma's homemade classic. Each truffle is exactly the same size, and the decorations are perfectly symmetrical. I picked out a sleek, brown chocolate box that looks like it could be found in a Parisian chocolate shop.

I enter the special event room that the school uses for dinners and receptions. Bree is at my side holding a cake box containing her red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting. The test cake that she baked tasted like heaven on a plate. The cake was moist and fluffy. It had that rich reddish color without all the food coloring. Her frosting was also spot-on. It was just the right texture and consistency, and most importantly it was not too sweet.

We are handed a number and an application to fill out. Bree and I snag presentation tables that are right next to each other and set down our desserts. I open my box of Grandma's brigadeiro and pull out a small glass mug. My thermos of hot chocolate is ready to be poured just before the judges approach my table. I look down at my creation. I enjoyed every minute I spent creating my dessert, and I think it shows.

I made six Brazilian truffles, and each one is a different flavor. There is a classic chocolate one rolled in chocolate jimmies. These are the ones Grandma Liz always made – the ones I made for my family over the holiday break. There is a vanilla truffle rolled in crystallized sugar. Next to it is a dark chocolate truffle rolled in crushed pistachios. The row below has my favorite one, the espresso-flavored truffle rolled in blue jimmies. Then there is the most colorful truffle. The Nutella truffle rolled in pink pearl sprinkles. And last is the truffle that I wish my grandma could have tried. I came up with a guava-flavored truffle rolled in coconut flakes.