Never Say Pie (A Pie Shop Mystery) Read Free Page B

catch the office crowd or out at soccer games at night. At least she didn’t have the expenses of overhead like my shop, but then there was the cost of gas to run her van.
    I waited while a customer bought a dozen mini-cupcakes. I had to admit they looked adorable and delicious too, my absolute favorite Red Velvet, Coconut Cream, Chocolate Marshmallow, Meyer Lemon, and Strawberry with Buttercream Frosting. “Just wanted to say hello. Looks like you’re doing terrific.”
    “I am,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to come over to see you, but I’ve been so busy.”
    “I have too,” I said quickly, not to be outdone. “I think we get some of the same customers. The ones with a sweet tooth.”
    “Definitely. Pie is always good. I mean it’s so old-fashioned,” she said. I didn’t really like the sound of that. I preferred thinking pie was timeless and just as up-to-date as cupcakes. “The one I’m worried about and you should be too is the doughnut booth,” she said.
    “What?” Why hadn’t I seen a doughnut booth?
    She nodded. “Haven’t you heard? Doughnuts are the new cupcakes.”
    So she was worried about being passed over by the latest rage in baked goods. Where does that leave pies, I wondered with a little frisson of anxiety.
    “They’ve got a line around the block,” she said waving her hand in the direction of the athletic field. “Beignets, churros, crullers, fritters—the whole nine yards.”
    “Have you tried them?” I asked, feeling woefully out of touch with the latest trend.
    “I have.” As she talked she sliced up a few cupcakes for her sample tray with a large serrated combination knife and spatula, the same kind I and everyone else had. “The doughnuts are hot from the deep fryer, they’re soft on the inside and crisp on the outside. Oh, yes, they’re a force to be reckoned with, no question.”
    “I’ve got to see this,” I said, my mouth watering uncontrollably at the thought of those amazing doughnuts. But truthfully I didn’t want to see the line snaking around the athletic field or taste the irresistible beignets, churros, or hot doughnuts. Not now. Even though I longed to sink my teeth into a soft warm doughy doughnut, I needed to be sensible and cleanse my palate with something like an organic carrot and stay positive. Pies are traditional, I told myself. Trends come and go but pies are forever. Pies are the past, present, and future.
    More customers came by so I wished her good luck and went to the part of the fair I hadn’t seen yet. Something without a bit of sugar or butter. Something that didn’t compete with me. These booths were all meat, fish, and chicken. First stop, the sausage stand. I felt obliged to try bites of hot Smoked Pomegranate Sausage, and Chicken Apple with Sherry, as well as Yucatan Cilantro with a South of the Border twist.
    I introduced myself to the sellers, Bill, who was as round and robust as their sausage, and Dave, who was so tall and thin I was sure he never ate anything but leafy green vegetables and not many of those. They told me they came up from a ranch down the coast where they raised pigs and they were using guess what to cut the sausage links into bite-sized morsels, the same spatula/knife which they said worked great. I couldn’t resist. I bought a package of each of the sausages I’d tasted, and told them to stop by my pie booth.
    “Have you seen the reporter from the newspaper yet?” Dave asked as he wrapped my sausages in a newspaper for me. “He tried everything we’ve got. Said he’s doing a story on the fair.”
    “Really? You’ll get a great review. Your sausage is the best,” I told them.
    “You like it?” Dave said seeming pleased. “We just started making sausage this year. Everything’s changing in the pig business.”
    “Leaner, more flavorful cuts,” his brother added. “We had to learn new ways of feeding and raising pigs. So far we’re not sure if it’s paying off.” He looked anxious as he