Town in a Blueberry Jam

“You mean the judging?”

Candy nodded.

“Ooh, tell me. What did he say? Someone screwed up royally, right? Or maybe Sapphire just got her hooks into one of the judges — you know, bribery?”

Candy frowned and shook her head. “He wouldn’t admit to anything. But I know it has to be something like that. There’s no way she could have won that pageant without help from someone.”

“Right. It goes against the laws of the universe.”

“Something’s definitely rotten in Denmark.”

“Who gives a crap about Denmark? Something’s rotten right here in good ol’ Cape Willington.”

They talked on for some time as they finished their food and were still gabbing away when they heard another voice nearby. “Hello, excuse me.”

Candy and Maggie looked up. A curly-haired woman with a dark complexion, dark brown eyes, and a bright smile stood beside them.

“My name is Melody... Melody Barnes,” the woman said, introducing herself. “I’m the proprietor of this little establishment. I just wanted to come by and introduce myself. You’re Candy Holliday, right?”

“That’s right.” Candy held out her hand as she nodded toward Maggie. “And this is my friend Maggie Tremont. It’s nice to meet you, Melody.”

There were smiles and handshakes all around, after which Melody continued. “So how’s the food? Are you enjoying it?”

“Excellent,” said Maggie.

“The lobster roll is wonderful,” added Candy. “These chunks of lobster are huge.”

Melody seemed pleased. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. That’s a specialty of the house. My grandmother’s recipe. It’s all in the spices, you know. Listen, I must tell you, there’s a reason I wanted to meet you. I bought one of your blueberry pies on Saturday.”

“Oh yes, I remember,” Candy said pleasantly. “Did you like it?”

“It was one of the best I’ve ever tasted. I ate one piece myself and served the rest of the slices to some of my customers today. It’s been a huge hit, especially with the tourists, and I was wondering, well, if you would consider baking pies for me on a regular basis, to serve here in the café?” Leaning a little closer, she whispered, “I’ve been told I need to upgrade my desserts!” She leaned back again as she continued. “But I just don’t have the time to bake, since I’m so busy with the rest of the cooking. Anyway, your pies are so much better than anything I could make. I don’t think I could improve on them. And if you could help me out, it would mean the world to me.”

Candy’s eyes lit up. “Really? Of course! I’d love to do that. How many would you need?”

They set to talking then, and by the time Candy and Maggie left the café fifteen minutes later, Candy had an order for eight pies a week, half to be delivered on Monday morning and the other half Thursday morning. For this first week, though, she had agreed to deliver five pies the following afternoon.

“Wasn’t that nice?” Maggie said as they drove back to the insurance agency. “I guess things really are looking up for you, what with the festival, and now this.”

Candy nodded, feeling all aglow. “It’s great, isn’t it? With the way things are going, I just might be able to pay my bills this month.”

“Honey, with the way things are going, you’ll be able to buy Pruitt Manor!”

Eleven

Candy awoke suddenly in the middle of the night. For a few moments she lay in the darkness as a warm breeze blew over her, trying to figure out what had pulled her so quickly out of deep sleep.

And then she heard it — the chickens were in a frenzy, squawking madly out in their coop about something.

She jumped out of bed, pulled on a bathrobe, and carefully made her way down the dark staircase. Doc kept a flashlight on the windowsill by the back door, for emergencies. Candy grabbed it, slipped into a pair of sandals, and headed out into the night, flicking on the flashlight as she went.

A three-quarter moon cast a faint glow on the landscape, giving it a ghostly appearance. Trying to ignore the creepy feeling that edged up her back, she hurried toward the barn and skirted around the side of it. As she approached the coop behind the barn, she could hear the chickens squawking in terror.

She stopped about ten feet away and shined the flashlight back and forth. Most of the girls were in a frenzy, their underfeathers flying everywhere, but a few still sat up in their roosts, their necks pulled way down into the feathers, clearly frightened out of their wits. Something had spooked them — but what?

Flicking the flashlight about, Candy searched the shadows around the coop while at the same time looking around for a weapon. This was a rural area, and there could be any number of critters about. If she had to tangle with anything too dangerous, she didn’t want to do it bare-handed. She wished she had remembered to pull Doc’s shotgun from the broom closet in the kitchen.

And then she saw it — an animal about the size of a small dog pawing at the chicken wire on the back side, trying to break into the coop.

“Hey! Get out of there!” Candy shouted suddenly, her voice breaking sharp in the night. She moved to her left, bent and scooped up a handful of stones, and flung them at the critter. It shied away when it saw her, its eyes luminescent in the flashlight’s beam, watching her intently to see what she was going to do next.

She picked up a good-sized rock and threw it at the animal — a fairly large fox, she saw now. “Leave them alone! Git!”

She picked up a large stick and started toward the creature, but before she had taken even a few steps it turned suddenly and slunk away, seeming to simply disappear into the high grass and shadows that edged the blueberry field behind the barn.

“What’s wrong?” came a voice behind her.

Candy jumped at the voice and twisted about. Doc was coming toward her wearing only a T-shirt and boxer shorts. His shotgun was tucked under one arm.

She held a hand to her rapidly beating heart. “A fox, trying to get at the girls.”

Doc squinted into the darkness. “Did you chase it away?”

“Yeah, it’s gone, I think.”

“Damn critters. Are the girls okay?”

Candy walked toward the coop, shining the flashlight inside. The chickens were still clucking loudly, still frightened, though they were starting to calm down.

“They seem all right. Just scared as hell.” She walked around the coop to where the fox had been pawing at it and bent to inspect the chicken wire. “Damn thing almost got in, though. I’m gonna have to fix this in the morning. We got any chicken wire left?”

Doc shook his head as he leaned the shotgun against the barn. “I don’t think so. I’ll tie a piece of plywood up against it for tonight. That’ll help temporarily, but we’ll have to stop by the hardware store in the morning.”

Doc helped her patch up the coop as best they could, then they both went back to bed. But Candy found she couldn’t fall asleep again, no matter how hard she tried. She turned and tossed for an hour or so and finally gave up. At first light she climbed out of bed, feeling tired and cranky. She put on the coffee, checked the girls again, and decided she might as well start baking pies to take into town later in the day.

She knew her arrangement with Melody wouldn’t make her a lot of money, but every penny would help. It seemed that scraping around for money had become a way of life for her and Doc. She had made good money down in Boston, true, and had lived quite comfortably until Clark, her ex-husband, lost his job. As their marriage unraveled, they had to live on her paycheck, which made their finances tight, but they still had their savings — until Clark squandered most of that on his start-up tech company. When they divorced, they sold the house, but after paying off an equity loan, they weren’t left with much. They split it up, and Candy used some of the money to make a few repairs around Blueberry Acres when she moved in with Doc. The place had needed a new roof, and they’d