Jed Had to Die

“PIE!” I shout, tuning everything out myself since all I can think about is what Leo said to me at The Hungry Bear earlier.

“You’re lucky you’re friends with Emma Jo and she has me for a mother. I’ve already spoken to Billy Ray about your case and he’s agreed to take it on under one condition,” Mrs. Plunkett informs me, ignoring my pie outburst as she pulls a tissue out of the purse draped over her elbow and dabs it under her eyes.

“Wait, case? What case? What are you talking about?” I ask, Mrs. Plunkett letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Soooooo, it looks like the entire town is blaming you for Jed’s murder,” Emma Jo mutters, quickly moving to head to the kitchen. “Are you hungry? You look hungry. How about I whip us up something-”

Grabbing her arm, I yank her back to me and cut off her words with a few of my own.

“PIE!” I shout again like an idiot, unable to come up with any more words to express just how mad I am right now.

“Pie sounds lovely. Emma Jo makes the best blueberry pies. Sweetie, why don’t you bake a few, you know baking always relaxes you, and I’m sure it will only be a matter of time before people stop by with casseroles and food during your time of need. Make sure you call me as soon as they start arriving and I’ll be here to greet everyone,” Mrs. Plunkett tells her, moving around me to give Emma Jo a kiss on the cheek.

“What’s the condition of Billy Ray taking on my case?” I ask when she opens the front door, quite proud of myself that I managed to ask a complete sentence and not scream about baked goods.

“You just have to go on a date with him and promise not to sue him if he loses your case. Emma Jo, don’t forget to call me.”

With that, Mrs. Plunkett walks out the door with a wave and right over to Starla Godfrey’s house, probably to let her know I only spit on her dog because I’m on drugs, which was evident by all the screaming about pie.

“The good news is, my mother still works as Billy Ray’s administrative assistant, so there’s that,” Emma Jo reminds me with a shrug when I slam the front door closed.

“How is that good news? How is ANY of this good news? The entire town now thinks I’m guilty of killing your husband, and don’t you say ONE WORD about pie!” I warn her, holding up my hand when she opens her mouth to interrupt me. “I’m the only one allowed to yell about pie here!”

Emma Jo slips her hand through the crook of my elbow and starts dragging me toward the kitchen.

“The good news is that since my mother works for him, I know he finally got that chronic halitosis taken care of and she refills his prescription for Viagra every couple of months, so your date with him should be one to remember,” Emma Jo informs me as we move into the kitchen.

“I don’t like you very much right now,” I mutter when she pushes me down into a chair at the table and starts pulling things out of the fridge.

“You’ll like me a whole lot better when I tell you all the gossip my mother filled me in on while you were with your parents. It turns out, there might have been a few people in this town who didn’t really care for my husband,” she tells me with a smile over her shoulder while she grabs a cutting board out of one of the drawers.

“So, not everyone is as dumb as they look. Good for them,” I reply sarcastically as she starts chopping vegetables and other assorted items.

“Payton, don’t you understand what this means? It means you aren’t the only suspect, even though that’s all the town is talking about right now. Well, that and you’re currently pregnant with Leo’s love child. And here my mother was right all along when I was in high school – just kissing a boy really does lead to pregnancy,” she muses.

* * *

“Okay, what do we have so far?” I ask Emma Jo as I lean back into the couch and take a drink of my wine.

After Emma Jo tried to butter me up with a lunch of homemade stir fry, she pulled out the big guns when I held my ground and pouted like a toddler for the rest of the day, refusing to talk to her – she grabbed a bottle of wine out of the fridge and said the magical words, “There’s more where that came from.”

It turns out, Mrs. Plunkett isn’t only good at making me feel like an asshole, she’s also excellent as the head of the town’s sympathy committee, stocking Emma Jo’s fridge with ten bottles of wine when she stopped by earlier. I’m starting to like that woman more and more.

“I’ve kicked your ass seven times in Tic-Tac-Toe, but I think one of those was a wash because we both used X’s instead of one of us using O’s,” Emma Jo tells me, lifting up the notebook paper from the coffee table and squinting at it while she holds it at arm’s length from her face and begins singing. “Ex’s and the oh, oh, oh’s they haunt me!”

I snatch the paper out of her hand and give her a dirty look even though that’s a catchy tune and I really want to sing it with her. We’re supposed to be compiling a list of possible murder suspects and granted, the games of Tic-Tac-Toe were my idea when I drew a stick figure of Jed with X’s for eyes and I got all excited about how we used to always play this game together when we were little, but we need to focus!

“There’s no time for musical theater, Emma Jo! We need to catch a murderer!” I remind her, looking down at the paper in my hand and wondering why everything is all turned around and nothing makes sense. “Jesus, your handwriting is atrocious.”