Read Pies & Peril for Free Online Page B

pies would be unsafe for the judges to consume now and since it has been several days since the entries were baked, none of the pies are fresh anymore. We cannot fairly judge any of the pies at this time, so we have no choice but to cancel the contest."
    Someone in the back corner of the room yelled, "I spent a lot of time and money working on my pie recipe. Why don't you reschedule the contest instead of flat out canceling it?"
    Kristi twisted the stained kitchen towel looped through her apron strings into a knot as she whispered in Elliot 's ear. He frowned and stepped back up to the podium. "Who prefers that the pie contest be rescheduled? Please raise your hand if you would care to enter a competition at a later, as of yet undetermined, date."
    Amy raised her hand. She had definitely worked overtime on her pie. It looked like almost everybody else in the hall did the same thing.
    Elliot cleared his throat. "Very well. I will reorganize the contest for next month. All of you will be contacted after I have coordinated the proceedings and decided upon a new date and venue."
    A satisfied murmur rippled through the audience. Groups began to disband as people headed for the exits. The residents of Kellerton had a competitive streak the size of a 5-lane freeway. Bragging rights and social standings were decided in the Summer Festival cooking contests. Beyond awarding trophies and prize money to the top three winners in each category, the final score of every entry was publicly posted. Everything was supposed to be anonymous, thanks to Elliot's numbering system, but which cake or pie belonged to who was easily figured out through the town's rumor grapevine. People compared notes about who was in front or behind them in line and names were quickly associated with the numbers. A poor score from sub-par baked goods, in some social circles, was the equivalent of being caught dancing naked in the park during a full moon with a neighbor's husband. Still, many people were more than happy to pit their recipes against others, despite the risk of becoming a bake sale pariah whose plates of cookies were always relegated to the back of the display tables. On the flip side, high scores could bring invitations to the most exclusive book clubs and progressive dinner parties in town.
    " Excuse me. You're standing in front of my pie."
    " Sorry," Amy said as she moved aside. Bea Perkins, the woman who had taken third place in the cake contest a few days earlier, grabbed a pumpkin pie off the table. Amy held up the donation basket and swung it back and forth, "Would you like to make a donation to help buy a bench in Town Center Park, in memory of Mandy Jo?"
    Bea put the pie back down and placed her hands on her hips. She was tall and fit with short, spiked salt and pepper hair and a diamond nose stud. The restaurateur was more than a bit intimidating as she towered over Amy and said, "Why would I want to memorialize the woman who almost destroyed my marriage? She told me Thomas was having an affair, said she'd spotted him at a romantic restaurant with Paula Harris. I'll never know why now, but for some reason she set out to stir up trouble between the three of us. Tom had ordered a custom pendant from Paula for our anniversary and was meeting with her to make sure it was made the way he wanted. I'm disgusted with myself for almost leaving him because I was gullible enough to believe that wicked Mandy Jo."
    Apparently Mandy Jo didn 't care who she hurt. Bea and Thomas owned a breakfast-only diner, The Breakfast Spot, which was frequented by many Kellerton residents. Anyone who visited the restaurant could see how much the couple loved each other. Paula was a local jeweler who specialized in custom designs. Only Mandy Jo was twisted enough to try to distort a business meeting into a relationship-crushing lie. Getting donations for the bench was definitely not going to be easy.
    Within five minutes the town hall was empty. The two, huge trash cans