Murder in a Teacup

by Vicki Delany

  “Glad to hear it,” Redmond said. “I’ve got to go. I’m about to arrive at my destination.”

  “Enjoy your meeting,” Bernie said.

  Redmond harrumphed and the line went dead.

  “That was interesting.” I took back my phone.

  “Wasn’t it? Not only the information she gave us, but the fact that she obviously trusts us more than she does her so-called partner, Detective Chuck Williams.”

  “Would you trust Detective Williams? I wouldn’t trust him to deliver a breakfast order, but I’m surprised she talked so freely to us.”

  “She needs someone to kick ideas around with,” Bernie said. “Williams is so full of his own importance, and at the same time so terrified people will recognize that he’s an idiot, he can’t just let go and allow his mind to wander. It’s unlikely he can accept that she might have some good ideas.”

  “I can buy that. So, what do we do now? If Trisha is innocent, and we don’t know she is, we should try to help her.”

  “Agreed. Let’s see if she gets released tonight. If so, we can go around to her hotel first thing tomorrow.”

  “I have to work tomorrow.”

  “You’re your own boss, Lily. You can take as much time off as you like.”

  “I’m my own boss, Bernie, which means I work harder than my employees. In addition to running the tearoom, someone has to make the breakfasts for the B and B guests.” I grinned at my best friend.

  “I don’t care for that look,” she said.

  “The sooner we get the breakfasts over with, the sooner we can leave, and the sooner I can get to the tearoom. I’ll see you in the kitchen at six-thirty. Don’t be late.”

  Chapter 16

  “Éclair needs a walk and so do I. We’ll go with you to your car.” I grabbed the leash off the hook by the side door and went outside. Recognizing the signs of a walk, Éclair danced around Bernie’s and my feet. I opened the gate and the dog raced across the grass toward the edge of the bluff.

  I called her to follow us and she turned around and charged ahead.

  “Are you planning to get some work done on the book tonight?” I asked Bernie as we watched Éclair stop to sniff under every bush and at every blade of grass between my cottage and the big house.

  “If I don’t, I’ll never admit it to you. You’re like my mother asking if I have homework tonight.”

  “You once told me you rely on me to keep your nose to the grindstone. If that’s not the case, tell me.”

  She said nothing. Something rustled in the undergrowth and Éclair took off after it. She’s the terror of the neighborhood squirrels. Little do they know that if she ever cornered one, she wouldn’t know what to do with it. Ask it to play probably.

  The squirrel ran up a tree and Éclair trotted back to us.

  “I’d like to write tonight,” Bernie said, “but I need to try and find out what I can about Trisha and Ed and their marriage. She might well have done it. Redmond said the case wasn’t strong, but she didn’t say there wasn’t one. Trisha, of all people, would have been able to interfere with Ed’s tea.”

  “That’s true. We’ve been assuming someone slipped the foxglove into his teapot when we were all outside, but it might have been added to the mixture earlier.”

  “You’re forgetting that the police tested the unused tea, and found nothing in it.”

  “They tested the unused tea Trisha gave them. She could have separated one portion, added the foxglove, and given it to the tearoom staff to steep. Still, I can’t see it, Bernie. Surely, Trisha would have had far better opportunities to rid herself of him, if she wanted to, than doing it in a way that puts her smack-dab in the center of a limited circle of suspects.”

  “Remember what Redmond said about criminals not being very smart? Maybe she didn’t think that far ahead.”

  “Maybe. I don’t want to get myself in the position of knowing how criminals think.” Time to change the subject. “If you ever want me to read your writing, I’d be happy to.”

  She shook her head and I didn’t push it. I’d made the offer before, and Bernie always declined, saying she didn’t like to show unfinished writing to anyone. “Too open. Too raw. Not until all the kinks have been worked out and the punctuation put in the right places,” she’d said.

  We rounded the house and I could see Heather, Sandra, and Rose on the veranda. They’d been joined by another group of guests, two middle-aged couples. Several wine bottles and cans of beer were on the table, along with a basket of bread and crackers and a platter of cheese.

  “Don’t say anything to the others about what Redmond told us,” Bernie said. “We can tell Rose later.”

  “Why?”

  “If Trisha didn’t do it, someone in Sandra’s family did.”

  At that moment, a car pulled up, parked, and the McHenry family spilled out. Julie-Ann, Amanda, and Darlene glowed pink from a day spent on the beach. Julie-Ann carried a beach bag and a stack of towels, and Darlene unloaded plastic supermarket bags and handed them to Brian, while Lewis took a case of beer out of the trunk. Éclair ran over to greet them, her ears up and her tail wagging.

  “There you are, you little darling!” Amanda cried as she bent down to give Éclair a pat.

  Laughing and smiling, the family climbed the veranda steps, with us in tow.

  “Hey,” Lewis said, “looks like the party’s started without us.”

  “Did the police come by?” Amanda straightened up. “They said they’d bring our phones back when they were finished with them.”

  “Is that all you can think about?” Brian said. “You haven’t stopped moaning all day about that blasted phone. You could at least say hello to your great-grandmother.”

  Amanda pouted, but she said, “Hey, GeeGee. You missed a fun day at the beach.”

  “What’s happened?” Darlene said. “Sandra, is everything okay?” Finally someone had noticed that none of us were smiling.

  “No,” Sandra said, “it’s not. The police were here earlier, not to return phones, but to arrest Trisha.”

  Darlene sucked in a breath. Brian shook his head.

  “Cool,” Tyler said. “Too bad I missed it.”

  “Ha!” Julie-Ann shouted. “I knew it.” She turned to her husband. “I told you so. I told you she’d done it. What do you have to say now?”

  Lewis shrugged.

  The four people who’d joined Rose’s circle shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.

  “Don’t be so quick to gloat, Julie-Ann,” Darlene said. “It doesn’t become you. The whole situation’s nothing but sad.”

  “I’m not gloating,” Julie-Ann said. “I’m saying I knew it all along, that’s all.”

  “We’ll leave you people alone now.” The eldest of the women who’d joined Rose and Sandra got to her feet. “You obviously have things to discuss. Thank you for the restaurant suggestion, Rose. I’ll let you know what we think of it.” She and her friends scurried inside, taking their glasses and bottles with them. Éclair sniffed at the low table containing the food.

  “An arrest is not a conviction,” Heather said.

  “Might as well be,” Julie-Ann muttered. “I’m going to change out of this bathing suit and wash the salt off, and then come down for a glass of wine. We bought cheese and pate and bread and crackers, but I see you have some already. Amanda and Tyler, come with me.”

  “If the police have arrested someone,” Amanda said, “then they don’t need my phone anymore, right?”

  “Good night, Rose, everyone,” Bernie said. “I’m off home.”

  “Good night,” they chorused.

  Bernie took a step toward her car and then stopped. She slapped her forehead and turned around. “Lily, I totally forgot. I have an appointment to take my car into the shop first thing tomorrow.”

  “Do you have something planned?” Rose said.

  “I was going to . . . uh . . . give Lily a hand with the breakfasts.”

  “Why on earth would you do t
hat?”

  I shot a look at my grandmother.

  “Oh,” she said. “I forgot. You like to do that sometimes.”

  “I can drop the car off tonight and bike over in the morning,” Bernie said. “It’s not far, but I can’t drive us on our . . . errand. If we have an errand, that is.”

  “You can take my car,” Rose said. “I have no plans for tomorrow. Lily?”

  “Fine with me.”

  “Thanks,” Bernie said. “Call me later, Lily. When you know what’s happening about our errand.”

  “Will do,” I said.

  “What errand is that?” Sandra asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Just . . . uh . . . business to do with Bernie’s book.”

  “Don’t forget,” Heather said, “I told her I’d introduce her to my publishing friend, and I meant it.”

  “Believe me, Bernie isn’t going to forget.”

  “Your friend’s writing a book?” Darlene said. “Isn’t that nice? I’m going up for a shower. Brian, do you want to go first?”

  “You go ahead,” he said.

  “I wonder if the police will let us go home now?” Lewis said. “I’m going to give that cop a call and ask.”

  * * *

  Before taking myself off to bed, I called Detective Redmond, hoping for an update on Trisha’s situation. I got voice mail and left a message. She did not return my call, so when I got up the next morning, I didn’t know if there was any point in Bernie and me going to the Blue Water Bay Resort to try to speak to Trisha.

  Still, helping in the B & B kitchen wasn’t something I’d ever discourage Bernie from doing.

  I let Éclair out and then showered and dressed for the day. The forecast was for more perfect weather, so I tied my hair into a high, tight ponytail and pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. The dining areas of the tearoom were air-conditioned, but the kitchen wasn’t, and it could get hot in there when both ovens were on and the small space crammed with people.

  I locked the cottage behind me, called to Éclair, and we walked the short distance to the back door of the B & B. As always, I took a moment to stop and admire the peaceful morning view. I put my hands on the wooden railing that protects people on our property from the sharp drop-off of the bluff. The tide was out, and down below a few people stepped carefully on the wet rocks, studying the tidal pools or searching for shells. Gulls circled overhead and a storm petrel dove for her breakfast. Boats loaded with fishermen headed to the open sea or rocked at anchor in the warm shallow waters of the bay, and an aircraft flew high above, heading east toward Europe.

  I took a deep breath and let the fresh, salty sea air fill my lungs. My one small, brief moment in a busy day to truly experience heaven on earth.

  “Nice morning,” Simon said at my side. Éclair rushed to greet him.

  I turned to him with a smile. “It is. Getting an early start?” I nodded at the pruning shears in his hand.

  He bent over and gave the dog a hearty pat. Greetings over, she went off to follow her nose to something that lay beyond the range of my feeble human senses.

  “I like to see to the plants out here first thing in the morning,” Simon said, “when it’s peaceful and I can watch the bay come to life. I can cut the grass and trim the hedges anytime.”

  We stood together, close but not touching, staring out over the bay. We didn’t speak, and I felt no need to fill the quiet with mindless conversation.

  “Contemplation over,” I said at last. “The workday begins. Come on in. I’ll put the coffee on.”

  “Won’t say no to that.”

  We descended the three stone steps to the kitchen door and I unlocked it. Éclair ran ahead of us and sniffed at all the corners. I took coffee beans out of the fridge and ground them, while Simon poured fresh water into the pot.

  “Trisha was arrested yesterday for the murder of her husband,” I said as I switched the coffeemaker on.

  “I caught the news on Twitter last night. Do you think she did it?”

  “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

  “The police will get to the bottom of it.”

  “If not, Bernie will.” I turned to him with a smile. “She can be determined that way.” I took down mixing bowls and got ingredients for strawberry muffins out of the cupboards and fridge. “Coffee’s ready. Help yourself.”

  Simon took a plump juicy strawberry out of the basket and popped it in his mouth. “Are these local?”

  “From a farm not more than a few miles from here.”

  “You can taste it. Like eating pure sunshine. Can I pour you a cup?”

  “Thanks.”

  “I like Trisha.” Simon served us coffee. “Anyone who’s interested in gardens can’t be all bad, as me dad always says. She spent a long time looking around ours.”

  I was about to reply when Éclair lifted her head and let out a single bark, and Bernie clattered down the stairs and came into the kitchen. She wore sleek black bike shorts and a matching shirt and carried her helmet. She shifted the helmet to her left hand and saluted me with her right. “Reporting for duty, ma’am!”

  “You’re working here today?” Simon asked.

  “Hard to believe, I know. But I am. Lily and I have an errand to run as soon as breakfast is over.”

  “Is that what you’re wearing?” I said. “You can’t wait tables in Rose’s dining room in bike shorts.”

  Bernie looked at Simon and gave an exaggerated sigh. “I didn’t know I was expected to wait on tables. I thought I was helping you cook.”

  “Can you cook?” Simon asked.

  “No, but how difficult can it be? Lily does it all the time.”

  “Most amusing. I need you to do whatever I need you to do.”

  She dropped her helmet on the table and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Last time I helped in here, you mocked my attire.”

  “That’s because you were dressed like a Victorian housemaid.”

  “I was getting into the mood of one of my characters. I told you that. Enough cheerful banter. What do you want me to do first?” She took a frilly pink-and-green apron down from the hook by the door and tied it around her waist. It looked, I thought, ridiculous with her high-tech athletic clothes, but I didn’t say anything.

  I tossed the dry ingredients together for today’s muffins. “First, get the muffin tins out of that cupboard there. Then you can pour coffee into the white carafe and take it and the jugs of milk and juice out to the dining room.” Breakfast service was supposed to begin at seven, but people often came early to get a start on coffee and juice.

  “As I seem to be in the way,” Simon said, “I’ll be off.” He held up his cup. “I’ll return this when I’m finished.”

  “Anytime,” I said.

  “You’re having morning coffee with the delectable Simon,” Bernie said once the door had closed behind him. “Anything of interest happen yesterday after I left that you want to tell me about?”

  “Not that it would be any business of yours if it did, but no. He usually comes in here to grab a coffee before starting work.”

  Edna was next to arrive. “I see Bernie wearing one of my aprons. Does that mean I’ve been fired and I can go home? Please say yes.”

  “No such luck,” I said. “Bernie and I have something to do before I go to the tearoom, so I want to get out of here as soon as I can. You can start on the fruit, please.”

  Edna took cantaloupe and a honeydew melon out of the fridge and the remains of the basket of strawberries off the counter and sat at the table to slice them. “Shall I assume you’d like the news on the French arrest?” she asked casually.

  I asked Bernie to start chopping mushrooms and tomatoes, while I mixed the batter and poured it into the tins. “You assume correctly.”

  “A lawyer arrived last night, posthaste, and sprang her. I know him. He’s a local guy, does a few low-level criminal cases, but as far as I know, he’s never had anything like a murder. Still, she’s out of jail, but unde
r orders not to leave the grounds of her hotel pending her appearance before a judge.”

  “That’s what we expected would happen,” Bernie said.

  “Is she still staying here?” Edna asked.

  “No. Things were getting rather tense between Trisha and some members of the McHenry family, so she moved. That’s not for publication.”

  “Don’t worry,” Edna said. “I don’t gossip. Much. Information between Frank and me goes one way only.”

  Voices came from the dining room and Edna stood up. I asked Bernie to finish the fruit salad. “As you’re not dressed to appear in proper company, you can help me in here. Be ready to serve up the plates when Edna places the orders.”

  * * *

  The last of the breakfasts was cooked and served by quarter to nine, and I was able to leave Edna to tidy up. Rose hadn’t put in an appearance, and I was pleased about that. I didn’t want her tagging along on our errand, and I didn’t want to have to lie to her about where we were going. Fortunately, I know where she keeps the keys to the car—on a hook by the kitchen door next to the aprons. I grabbed the keys as I passed.

  “I need to take Éclair home first, and then we can go. What will we do if Trisha doesn’t want to talk to us?”

  “We’ll leave,” Bernie said. “What else can we do? We’re not going to bring out the rubber hoses and switch on the powerful lights.”

  I half turned to watch Éclair greet a B & B guest out for a breath of air after breakfast. Bernie glanced at my cottage and let out a snort of laughter and said, “One step ahead of us, as always.”

  Rose was sitting on my front porch, resplendent in her usual purple and yellow. It was too late for us to turn and run. She’d spotted us and was waving as she got to her feet.

  “Ready to go?” she asked cheerfully as we walked up.

  “Go where?” I said.

  “Wherever you two plan on going in my car. To visit Trisha, I suspect.” She hefted her cane. “Let’s be off then.”

  “Three people might be intimidating,” I said. “We don’t want to frighten her. Why don’t you stay behind, and we’ll tell you what we learn. If anything.”

  “I agree three’s overdoing it,” Rose said.