Page 70 of Lemon Pound Cake Club

I stood there for a moment longer, listening to the crickets and the muffled laughter drifting from Camille’s backyard.

Then I turned toward home. It’s strange how the safest way home was always the one nobody ever thought to look for.

Chapter Ten

Maci

Sunday mornings were my time. Before anyone in Lemon Grove Estates woke up and hurried off to church, I enjoyed an hour of quiet on my front porch.

My coffee sat on the table next to me, steam rising into the cool morning air. The neighborhood was still quiet.

A mockingbird sat in my lemon tree, singing a tune that seemed to be just for itself.

I held my mug with both hands and watched the sun rise. Everything felt calm.

Suddenly, a scream broke the silence. It wasn’t just a quick yelp from a spider or something dropping. This scream was raw and frightening.

The mockingbird flew away. My coffee spilled over the edge of my mug.

Across the street, Camille stepped off her porch, her hand shaking as she covered her mouth.

"Oh, God," her voice shook. "Oh... my God..."

All around the cul-de-sac, front doors opened.

"What happened?"

"Camille!"

"Is she okay?"

Neighbors hurried into the street wearing slippers, pajamas, and robes. I stayed where I was, watching and trying to understand why Camille looked so pale.

I looked where everyone else was looking. Hanging from the brass doorknocker was a bundle of dead lemon branches tied with a wide black satin ribbon.

The branches were brittle, and their leaves were curled, like they had died long before they ended up on her porch. A folded cream-colored card was tucked between them.

No one touched it. No one moved. Camille stood frozen, as if even breathing too hard could make things worse.

I kept holding my coffee and didn’t cross the street until Danielle got to her.

"Oh, my God."

I stopped beside them.

"Camille, are you okay?"

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Danielle put her arm around Camille’s shoulders as Simone carefully stepped onto the porch.

"Don't touch anything," she warned.

"I'm calling the police.”

A few minutes later, blue lights flashed and broke the quiet of Sunday morning. Two patrol cars pulled up to Lemon Grove Estates.

One officer took photos of the dead branches from different angles. Another officer, wearing gloves, carefully picked up the card.

The women gathered close together by the sidewalk. Everyone spoke in whispers. The officer opened the note and read it, then looked at it again as his face changed.