I Want Candy

  “Oh, shee-it,” Turner whispered.

  She walked with her head held high, wearing a simple peach-blush summer dress and matching heels, carrying a beautifully wrapped gift. She marched right over to her sister and her former husband, and politely hugged them both.

  Anyone who lingered in the front yard got to hear every word that was exchanged.

  “Tanyalee!” Cheri said. “When did you get home?”

  “This afternoon. I’m staying with Viv until I find a job and a place.”

  Candy felt for the girl.

  “I just wanted to wish you both well,” Tanyalee said. There appeared to be no snarkiness whatsoever in her tone of voice. “I am sure you’ll have many years of happiness together. Congratulations.”

  With that, Tanyalee placed her gift on a table and serenely walked back through the yard to Viv’s pimpmobile and drove away.

  “I sure hope that package isn’t ticking,” Turner said.

  Candy shook her head slowly. “It’s been one hell of a day, hasn’t it?”

  Turner smiled at her. “The night is young, Candy Pants.”

  Chapter 23

  Today was the big day. Today would be the day that changed the order of everything. Today, Gerrall would finally show the world that he was a man to be respected and admired. And yes, feared.

  The first stop was Cherokee Pines and the Fat Man. All it took was a quick phone call and the pig was in the parking lot in ten seconds. It was amazing how fast a big fat slob could move when he thought money was involved.

  The hardest part was sticking the needle through all the fat on his ass, then making sure that when he fell he fell onto the backseat, because there was no way he could lift that guy or wrestle him while he was awake.

  Gerrall might be a man to be admired, but even he had limits on what he could do.

  Next, he’d go pick up Candy. That should be a snap. And then they’d head out to Preston Valley, where he’d take out his daddy and the Fat Man at the same time, get his hands on every dime he could find, and take Candy out of Bigler, forever.

  * * *

  LeRoy Bellfleur, Esquire, stood in front of the Main Street office building and shifted his significant weight impatiently from foot to foot, tapping on his smartphone. He appeared irritated.

  “But we’re not even late,” Candy whispered to Cheri as they approached the front door.

  “Lawyers always act like that,” Cheri reminded her.

  Mr. Bellfleur looked up and smiled. “Ah!” he said, shoving his phone in the front pocket of his suit trousers. “I was just about to call you.”

  Candy and Cheri shook the attorney’s hand and exchanged pleasantries. “Marvelous to see you, ladies. Shall we?” Mr. Bellfleur used two keys to unlock the thick oak door, and pushed it open. “Now, ya’ll watch your step. The power’s not on, mind you, but there should be plenty of natural light. There’s nothing to trip over, since the place has been cleaned to within an inch of its life.”

  Candy felt her mouth fall open in shock.

  “My God,” Cheri whispered.

  Slowly, Candy stepped inside. She scanned the vast and empty street-level space, trying to sort out what she was seeing. For as long as she’d been alive, this place had been chopped up into a maze of tiny rooms—a small reception area, a half dozen cramped offices, an employee break room, a storage area, and her father’s larger suite. The walls had always been covered with that disgusting brown paneling and the floors with that disgusting high-traffic carpeting. But now …

  “It doesn’t even look like the same place,” Cheri said.

  Candy could only stare in awe. She looked around again, just to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. No. It was real. Obviously, everything had been ripped out. Nothing was left but bare brick walls, newly refinished wood floors, and the huge picture window from which light now poured.

  Candy turned her wide-eyed gaze toward Mr. Bellfleur. He chuckled. “Your mama said you’d be surprised.”

  “What the…?”

  “After your daddy died, Jacinta had this place gutted—and I mean gut-ted. Took out every sink and commode and every light fixture and doorknob in the place. She worked with an architect from Asheville and had space for a commercial kitchen roughed in in that area back there…”—he gestured to his left—“and then she put in new copper plumbing throughout the building, along with new wiring, wireless Internet, cable, heating, and air-conditioning, you name it. She said she didn’t want anything left standing but the brick. And then she just left the place like this—empty as a tomb. Said she wanted it to stay like this.”

  “Whoa,” Cheri whispered.

  Candy had trouble breathing.

  Mr. Bellfleur shrugged. “It’s funny what people do when they’re deep in the grieving process.”

  Candy couldn’t help it. She snorted with laughter, and then had to attempt to cover it up with a fake sneeze.

  “Bless you,” the lawyer said.

  When Cheri started asking questions, Candy was grateful, since she hadn’t managed to regain her ability to speak. “So how soon after her husband died did Jacinta have all this done?” Cheri asked.

  “Within a few months.”

  Cheri gasped. “So this place has been sitting here empty for years? Like this?”

  “Yes.” He directed his answer to Candy. “Your mother never really said, but I assumed she wanted it ready for you, in case you ever came home.”

  “Ready?” Candy asked. “Ready for what?”

  Mr. Bellfleur shrugged. “She never said outright and I was kind of baffled myself. But it didn’t take me long to put two and two together once you started working at Lenny’s.”

  Suddenly, it all began to make sense.

  “Now, I’d have to say your lemon chiffon cake is my favorite, but I’m also partial to your applesauce cake.” A wistful smile appeared on Mr. Bellfleur’s wide face. “I haven’t tasted a decent applesauce cake since my mother passed, God rest her soul. And mark my words—you’re going to make a mint with this place, especially if you attract some of the tourists who wander through on the way to the Smokeys.”

  “This is your bakery!” Cheri blurted, grabbing onto Candy’s forearm. “Oh, my God! This is your bakery!”

  Candy pulled away and walked into the center of the room. She needed space to think and breathe. She needed a minute to clear her head, to put the pieces together in her mind.

  Her father had died and left her an ugly building she wasn’t allowed to sell, fine. But then her mother had fixed it up in the hopes that one day Candy would come home to Bigler, claim her inheritance, and open a bakery? What the—

  “Shall we take the grand tour?” Mr. Bellfleur gestured for the women to follow him. Candy wouldn’t have been able to move if Cheri hadn’t grabbed her wrist and dragged her along. “Two thousand square feet on the main floor, front, rear, and side entrances, as I’m sure you recall, plus the small parking lot in the back.” He wiggled an eyebrow. “Jacinta just had it repaved last week!”

  “That’s fabulous!” Cheri said.

  Candy’s palms started to sweat. She wasn’t going to fall for Jacinta’s trap. This wasn’t what she’d envisioned for herself. She glanced over her shoulder, out the picture window and to Main Street beyond. Main Street would take her to Highway 25, which would get her to I-40, which would …

  Her cell phone rang. It was Turner. Crap! She was supposed to have called him as soon as she and Cheri met up with the lawyer. Now that the task force was ready to move in at any moment, Turner had become positively paranoid about her safety, as though he were certain Gerrall Spivey would come after her. Candy sighed and answered the phone.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Can I call you when I get back to Lenny’s?”

  Turner didn’t reply immediately, and Candy knew he was pissed. “Are you’re sure you’re fine?” he asked. “Because you don’t sound fine.”

  Candy rolled her eyes, and immediately realized she’d never rolled
her eyes at Turner before. Why was she rolling her eyes? He was just worried about her. He had his reasons. She’d promised she’d call and she didn’t. But maybe she didn’t want to be worried about! Maybe she didn’t want to be reporting in as if she were on probation! Maybe she wasn’t ready for all this.

  A bakery? A boyfriend? In Bigler? What the hell was she doing?

  Her eyes darted to the window again.

  “I’ll call you back,” she said, hanging up on Turner and powering off her phone.

  “Is everything all right?” Cheri asked, her lips pulled tight.

  “Of course,” Candy said, then turned her attention to Mr. Bellfleur. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Well, all right.” He looked offended. “As I was saying, the lot has been repaved. Would you like to see it?”

  “Not particularly.” Candy started to feel a little nauseated. Overheated.

  “At any rate, your mother has kept up with the property taxes and all exterior maintenance required by the city’s historic district commission,” Mr. Bellfleur continued. “Did you have a date when you’d like to take possession?”

  Candy froze. Her ears buzzed. She began to feel seriously dizzy.

  Turner. What about Turner? What would happen when she left? Oh, God, it would kill him.

  She’d made such a horrible mistake.

  “Miss Carmichael?” That was Mr. Bellfleur.

  “Seriously, are you okay?” That was Cheri.

  “Hold up.” Candy backed away, her hands held out in front of her. She stopped only when she bumped into the far wall. “Mr. Bellfleur, are you absolutely sure there’s no way I can sell this building? Because I most definitely want to sell it. I’ve researched the comps and I know it’s got to be worth over a hundred grand totally restored like this.”

  The attorney frowned. “I am sorry, Miss Carmichael, but according to the terms of your father’s will that will not be an option for you. I thought you understood that.”

  “But he can’t really do that, can he? He can’t leave me an asset and then tell me what to do with it, right?” She was pretty sure she had just broken out into a cold sweat.

  “Certainly he can,” the lawyer said with a shrug. “Your father had a valid will, and those were his wishes. Depending on the whim of the deceased, any number of restrictions can be placed on inherited real property.”

  “And I couldn’t fight it in probate court?”

  Mr. Bellfleur smiled at her like she was a slow child.

  “Sure you could. It would likely require several years and a boatload of cash to get a judge to tell you the will stands, but that’s certainly within your rights.”

  Cheri chuckled. “Good ole Jonesy wants to run the show even from six feet under, doesn’t he?”

  Mr. Bellfleur smiled, but said nothing. No need to elaborate, Candy figured, since being her father’s lawyer probably wasn’t much better than being his daughter.

  Suddenly, she saw a flash of red. Red cake. Running down the wall.

  “Shall we look at the upper floors?” he asked. “They aren’t finished, so don’t get your hopes up.”

  Candy barely paid attention while he gave her the tour. It was just two big empty lofts. So what? She suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

  Mercifully, the ordeal was over in about fifteen minutes, and the attorney excused himself to answer a few calls. He told the women he would meet them out front. “No rush. Take your time.”

  Cheri and Candy waited until they heard him make it down the two flights of steps and open and close the front door. Candy peered out the window to ensure Mr. Bellfleur was truly out on the sidewalk, then turned to face her friend.

  “What the hell?” she said, waving her arms around the huge second floor. “I feel like I’m in an episode of The Twilight Zone!”

  Cheri smiled brightly. “It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?”

  “Amazing? It’s downright bizarre! I don’t know who to be angrier with—my father or my mother!”

  Cheri cocked her head and frowned. “But Jacinta turned lemons into lemonade for you. This place would have been an albatross around your neck, but she transformed it into exactly what you need! She—”

  “Who says it’s what I need?” Candy felt even dizzier than she had downstairs. “It’s not Jacinta’s place to tell me what I need!” Her eyes began to sting with tears. “I don’t even know what I need, Cheri! And now everybody expects me to just start baking cakes and shit and live in Bigler for the rest of my life as Mrs. Halliday? Is that it? Well, I won’t do it! I won’t let anyone manipulate me!”

  Cheri’s eyes went big. She took a cautious step toward Candy. “Calm down.”

  “No! I’m not going to calm down! Oh, my God, this has been such a disaster! I’ve only been back here a month and I’ve managed to fuck everything up!” She spun around in a circle and clenched her eyes shut. Her heart was pounding.

  “What are you talking about, girl?” Candy felt Cheri’s soft touch on her shoulder. “You haven’t fucked anything up. You are in love with a wonderful man who loves you back. You have options available to you that you never dreamed were possible. You’ve rediscovered your talent for baking. You’ve reconnected with Jacinta. It’s a lot to think about, I realize, but—”

  “I can’t listen to this right now. I’m sorry. I’ll be fine, but I just need some space to think this through.” Candy gave her best friend a quick hug and tried her best to smile. “Listen, thank you for coming with me. I’ve got to get back to work.”

  Candy hustled Cheri downstairs and outside, then told Mr. Bellfleur she’d be in touch. She parted ways with Cheri at Main and Fourth, where Cheri ducked into the Bugle building and Candy continued another block to Lenny’s.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Cheri hollered down the sidewalk.

  “I’m better already!” Candy called back with a wave and a fake smile.

  Of course her friend meant well, Candy thought, continuing to walk, but she also had an ulterior motive—she wanted Candy to stay in Bigler. It seemed everyone did. Cheri, Jacinta, Turner …

  But what did she want?

  What did she want?

  What the hell did she want?

  Rosemary’s words hit her hard: “If you choose from the heart, then that’s all that matters.”

  Well, that was the problem, obviously. Candy didn’t know how a person went about doing that.

  “Umph.”

  A hand had just slapped over her mouth and an arm was squeezing around her waist, and before her brain could begin to process what had just happened, Candy was dragged into the alley behind Lenny’s and shoved into the passenger seat of a car she didn’t recognize.

  She tried to scream. She twisted violently. She tried to free her arm to hit whoever had grabbed her. That’s when she stared right into Gerrall Spivey’s icy blue eyes and froze. He smiled at her. He released his grip on her waist, but immediately she heard the heavy click of the gun that he pressed into her temple.

  Chapter 24

  “Drive.”

  Candy’s hands shook so badly she could barely control the wheel. She didn’t know what frightened her most—the gun that was now shoved into her side, the psycho glint in Gerrall’s eye, or what she’d just seen in the rearview mirror—Wainright Miller hog-tied in the backseat, screaming so violently behind his gag that his face was purple and the tendons in his neck looked like they were about to pop.

  Candy was so scared that she didn’t even find it particularly interesting that Gerrall was dressed like a girl.

  “Don’t look at him,” Gerrall snapped, nodding his blond wig in Miller’s direction. “He’s not worth it. He’s a piece of shit and I’m going to love seeing him squeal like a pig when I take him out in the field and shoot him.”

  Miller’s muffled screams filled the car. His eyes pleaded for Candy to help him.

  Gerrall smiled at her. “You like my disguise? Here we are, just two girls out for a drive. Pure gen
ius, huh?”

  Candy blinked rapidly in an attempt to see through her tears. Her mind was checking off escape options so quickly she couldn’t keep them straight.

  She could try to crash the car and hope Gerrall wouldn’t shoot her, but she wasn’t wearing a seat belt and neither was Miller. She could try to wrestle the gun from Gerrall and somehow drive at the same time. Or she could try to distract Gerrall and stick her fingers in his eyes. None of these seemed like good bets.

  Her cell phone! She could try to speed dial Turner without Gerrall noticing. But the phone was shoved down in her front pocket. And it was turned off.

  Oh, God, why had she turned off her phone like that? What had she done? Ten minutes ago she had a wonderful man’s love, a best friend’s support, and her mother’s gift from the heart. And how had she responded to all that good fortune? She’d hung up on Turner, got all snarky with Cheri, and panicked at the thought of accepting her mother’s help. Ten minutes ago, she wanted to run away from all of it.

  She would give anything to have the last ten minutes of her life back.

  “If you slow down any more I’ll shoot you. Pay attention.” Gerrall rammed the gun against her ribs.

  “Okay, okay.” Candy’s chest was so tight with anxiety that she was having trouble getting enough air. “Where are we going?” Maybe if she kept him talking she’d get a little more time to figure something out.

  “Preston Valley. No more questions. Just shut up and drive. Where’s your cell phone?”

  “I don’t think I have it with me.”

  Gerrall laughed and shoved the gun so hard into her ribs that she gasped. “You are such a lying bitch,” he snarled, leaning close enough that the wig tickled the side of her face. “But that’s old news, ain’t it, Candy Carmichael?”

  Gerrall came even closer and sniffed her neck and hair. She thought she might throw up.

  “Turn right at the next light,” Gerrall snapped, suddenly angry. Candy knew she had to do a better job of hiding her revulsion if she were going to survive. She tried to smile at him.