Murder with Clotted Cream

by Karen Rose Smith

  “Maybe they just want to question her,” Daisy said, hoping. Daisy’s instincts told her that Glenda had had a real affection for Margaret. The problem was, she also might have affection for Rowan, maybe a serious attraction too.

  Cade came up the aisle to Daisy now and joined the little group around her. “Are you involved in a murder again?”

  She didn’t even try to give him an explanation. She just said, “I found the body.”

  His eyes went wide and his eyebrows almost met his hairline.

  Trevor, who’d appeared out of nowhere, bumped his shoulder against Daisy’s. “Have the police taken in the right suspect?”

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  Looking thoughtful, Cade took hold of Daisy’s elbow and pulled her aside.

  Trevor gave her a questioning look, but she just shook her head for him to give her a moment.

  “You’re gathering information, aren’t you? Just like you did before.”

  “Cade, if you’re going to give me a speech about not interfering—”

  “Jonas is the one who should be giving you that. No, that’s not what I want. If you are gathering information maybe there’s something you should know.”

  “What’s that?”

  Frowning, Cade hesitated, then went on. “I can’t talk about clients. However, since Margaret Vaughn is dead, I see no reason to hold back. She spoke with me about having the house appraised without Rowan knowing.”

  Ideas and suspicions began tumbling around in Daisy’s mind. “Did Margaret buy that house when everybody thought Rowan did?”

  “I don’t know about that. I didn’t have her as a client back then. Maybe she wanted to sell it and cash out. Maybe her marriage to Rowan wasn’t what everybody thought it was.”

  Was the marriage really what everybody thought it was? Romantic and genuine? Outside looking in was different from actually living in the marriage.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Daisy could see the curtain was open again on the stage. Jonas had apparently finished with moving the sets back to their stored position because he came out to the center of the stage and peered over the audience. Seeing her, he jogged down the steps and started toward her.

  In the meantime, Ward Cooper joined her and Cade. He’d come from the lighting booth. “The performance went off without a hitch.”

  Vanna crossed to him. “I doubt if that’s going to happen again. The police took Glenda to the station.”

  Ward looked genuinely surprised.

  Daisy suggested, “They might have merely taken her to the station for questioning.”

  “But she’s the director now,” Vanna said. “The cast is going to be at a loss.”

  “No, they won’t,” Ward said. “The cast learned the changes she suggested. They did well tonight. They don’t need her if she’s going to be unavailable.”

  In other words, the cast didn’t need Glenda if she went to jail.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Simply put, Jazzi was moping around on Sunday. She hadn’t heard anything from Portia since her visit to Allentown. It was hard for anyone to be patient but especially a sixteen-year-old. She wanted to be approved of and liked by the people who mattered to her. So it was advantageous when Vi asked Daisy and Jazzi to come over to the apartment to have supper with her. Foster had gone to his dad’s to visit with Gavin, Ben, and Emily. As Vi had anticipated, Daisy offered to make macaroni and cheese and bring cherry tarts for dessert. Vi was going to provide a salad.

  When they arrived, Vi had settled Sammy in the swing his great-grandmother had provided as a baby present. It was a wonderful device because Sammy often fell asleep in it when rocking or singing to him didn’t work.

  Daisy couldn’t help but go to Sammy as soon as she arrived. “Can I hold him for a while?”

  Vi eyed her mom. “You’re spoiling him.”

  “I’m not,” Daisy protested. “I’m loving him. There’s a difference.” She scooped him out of the swing while Jazzi shoved the casserole into the oven to bake.

  Vi had lost at least half of the baby weight. She was wearing jeans and a pale green oversized sweater. Her cheeks had color and she even looked . . . happy.

  Walking Sammy into the living room area, Daisy kissed his soft cheek, loving his baby smell. He was so precious. His eyes were clear and wide, and his mouth widened in what Daisy hoped would soon be a smile. Christmas would be here before they knew it and she hadn’t even shopped for him yet.

  Jazzi pulled out her phone as she settled on the sofa beside her mom.

  After drying her hands on a dish towel, Vi joined them in the living room area and sat in the rocker. “Have you heard from Portia?” she asked Jazzi.

  Jazzi mumbled, “No, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to. Colton thinks I’m frivolous. He believes all I want to do is shop and learn how to drive so I can run around with friends.”

  “What makes you think that?” Daisy asked, cuddling Sammy in the crook of her arm. Jazzi hadn’t mentioned this to her before.

  “I heard him talking to Portia Saturday night after I went to bed. She told him how I babysit, work at the tea garden, and am part of the peer counseling program. But I don’t think it made an impression. He hardly talked to me on Sunday.”

  Looking concerned for her sister, Vi said, “You can’t do anything about his attitude. We have Christmas to think about, and I have something else I want to discuss with you.”

  From the tone of Vi’s voice, Daisy didn’t think it was something serious.

  Vi pointed to Jazzi. “You can help me plan Sammy’s christening. Mom’s busy enough.”

  “And I’m not?” Jazzi quipped.

  “Not too busy that you can’t help me plan food and favors and who we want to come.”

  “When do you want to have the christening?” Daisy asked.

  “I spoke to Reverend Kemp on the phone, and we’re thinking about three weeks. Can we have the party at your house? That way we can invite more guests.”

  It warmed Daisy’s heart to see Vi excited about the idea of a christening. In the past week especially, she had seemed so much more herself.

  As Vi leaned forward in the rocker, she set her attention on Jazzi. “I’d ask you to be Sammy’s godmother, but Reverend Kemp said the godmother should be over eighteen.”

  “I understand that,” Jazzi said. “You know I’ll look after him with you. Who do you have in mind? Aunt Iris?”

  Vi shook her head, keeping her gaze on her mom now. “Do you think Aunt Iris will be hurt if I don’t ask her?”

  “I’m sure your aunt would want you to choose whoever you want. Who do you have in mind?”

  “I’m thinking about Tessa. What do you think, Mom?”

  Daisy thought about it. Tessa had a good heart. She knew about responsibility and devotion and loyalty. “I think Tessa would be honored if you ask her. Who do you have in mind for the godfather?”

  “Foster and I talked about it, and we decided to ask Gavin.” Foster’s dad was more than responsible. After the death of his wife, he’d raised his three children. Foster was becoming a fine man, father, and husband, and Daisy was sure Ben and Emily would grow up with the same values and integrity because they watched their dad and that’s what they saw in him.

  “You’ve chosen well, honey, and I’d be glad to host the party at my house. I’m sure your grandmother would love to help too.”

  “She can help,” Vi said. “But I don’t want her running everything. That’s why I want Jazzi to help me plan it. We’ll go to her with everything set out and then she’ll know the party’s going to be like we want.”

  Over the years Vi had learned how to handle her grandmother probably better than Daisy had. Thinking of her mother again, Daisy wondered if something was bothering her. She hadn’t seemed herself ever since . . . ever since Sammy was born.

  Daisy’s cell phone vibrated. She took it from the coffee table. It was Jonas. He asked, “Do you want to go for a walk?”

&nbs
p; She smiled and said, “Yes.”

  * * *

  Daisy’s property was lit with a motion detector light from the security system. Daisy wanted to talk to Jonas about something and was glad they were going to be alone as they walked.

  He tucked her arm in his as they strolled toward the garage. They weren’t going to visit Vi and Foster, just take a circle around it. Daisy had worn her short boots for any uneven ground they might come across. She zipped her cat-patterned fleece jacket up around her neck and added a scarf. The maroon cap she wore had a pom-pom on top and earmuff-like side pieces. She’d tied it under her chin.

  “Warm enough?” Jonas asked after they’d walked a little ways.

  “I’m fine. It actually feels good to be out in the cold air. After we go back in, we could light a fire.”

  “Have you done that yet this season?”

  “No. Jazzi goes up to her bedroom many nights to study or play music, and I usually sit on the sofa with a throw wrapped around me.”

  “But you want to light one tonight?” His voice held amusement.

  “I think it would be fun to snuggle on the sofa with you while the fire’s burning.”

  “Snuggling, huh? We might have to practice the Amish way of bundling.”

  Daisy laughed and they continued walking. She turned her face up to the sky and felt a sudden wetness on her cheek. “It’s snowing! This is early.”

  “It won’t amount to anything,” Jonas predicted. “It might frost your lawn, but it will disappear as soon as the sun comes up. I think it’s supposed to be forty tomorrow.”

  “Do you check the weather every night?”

  “Is that a man thing or do you do it too?”

  “I do it. I have so many apps on my phone I don’t know what to do with them, but they come in handy.”

  Even though snow had started, they kept up their leisurely pace, enjoying each other’s company, appreciating the intimacy of the dark night and the cold around them. They were close together as they walked, creating heat, and bonding in their way.

  “Have you heard any more about Glenda?” Daisy asked.

  “The police questioned her for a few hours. Surprisingly, she didn’t call a lawyer.”

  “I wonder why not.”

  “She said she was completely open with them and told them everything they wanted to know. I don’t know what that everything was, maybe about her past with Margaret, maybe about an affair with Rowan.”

  “She confessed to that?”

  “I don’t know that either. Neither Rappaport nor Willet would open up about the investigation. You know how they can be.”

  “I know. But I wonder how the cast is going to feel with Glenda in their midst if they think she’s a suspect.”

  “They’re probably watching each other carefully thinking everybody’s a suspect. This murder investigation certainly isn’t cut and dried.”

  The snow fell faster now.

  Jonas suggested, “Let’s walk back to the house and sit on the swing on the porch. I’m glad you haven’t taken it down yet for the winter.”

  “I might not. Even when it’s cold, I like to go out there and sit.” After they circled the path around the garage, they headed back toward the house.

  Once they were seated on the swing, Jonas’s arm around Daisy’s shoulders, she leaned into him. He took one of her gloved hands into his. He was wearing leather gloves and they couldn’t feel each other’s heat. But they held on anyway.

  “I’d like to ask you something,” she said softly.

  “Go ahead.”

  She hesitated.

  Jonas shifted toward her. “Are you afraid it’s something I’ll get upset about?”

  “Possibly, but I don’t want you to be.”

  He gave a shrug. “So ask, and we’ll see what happens.”

  Pragmatic to the core, Daisy thought. But that gave Jonas balance and sometimes her too. “Do you feel left out or unsettled because Vi and Foster chose Gavin to be godfather?” Daisy had filled Jonas in on Vi’s and Foster’s choices.

  She felt Jonas lean away from her slightly, and she turned her head to face him.

  He began, “Truthfully, for about two seconds I was hurt. But there were so many good reasons why Vi and Foster should have asked Gavin and not me. First of all, Gavin has a better grasp on faith than I do. I still struggle with it—with my dad’s death, my mom’s struggles afterward, and Brenda’s death. Maybe I’m still angry at God. I don’t know. But after I thought about it, I knew Gavin was the right man for the job. He’s raised three good kids. He knows what he’s doing. He’ll take the honor seriously.”

  Daisy wished she could help Jonas take a leap of faith, but faith was too personal to interfere with. Jonas removed his glove and stroked Daisy’s cheek. She shivered, but what she felt had nothing to do with the cold.

  “You’re chilled,” he said. “We should go in.”

  With a smile, she shook her head. “No, I’m not cold. I just like you touching me. Do you mind that we’re going so slow . . . that we haven’t slept together yet?”

  “Some people would think we’re foolish, I guess,” Jonas said, still looking straight into her eyes. “But I think we’re building. What we’re building slowly will last.”

  In her mind Daisy thought, I’ve fallen in love with this man. But she couldn’t say it yet. They were building friendship, trust, maybe even a life together. There would be time enough to say the words, she hoped.

  * * *

  On her lunch break on Tuesday, Daisy drove to Willow Creek Community Church. The clothes drive they were holding was a special one—Sleepers for Kids. Daisy had gone to the baby shop downtown and purchased a few sleep sets from six months to toddler to six years old to ten years old. She hoped they would help a family who needed to keep their children warm at night.

  She saw the sign outside the side entrance to the offices behind the church where Vanna’s office was located. A square of cardboard announced, ALL SLEEPERS FOR KIDS MUST BE DONATED HERE. KNOCK ON THE DOOR OR RING THE BELL AND SOMEONE WILL GIVE YOU A PLACE TO PUT THEM.

  Daisy climbed the two steps at the side entrance and rang the bell. The bags weren’t particularly heavy, and she didn’t mind waiting. She’d used one reusable tote bag from Vinegar and Spice, and another from the Covered Bridge Bed and Breakfast. They were canvas totes and she often took them to the grocery store or wherever else she needed to use one.

  A girl of around ten answered the door. She had red hair and curls to her shoulders, and very green eyes. “I’m Leah,” she said, a little shyly. “Do you have donations? Grandma will be so happy.”

  Soon Vanna was in the hall. “I see you’ve met my granddaughter. She’s usually pretty shy. She has a cold so she’s home from school, helping me today.”

  Leah said, “I recognize that this is the woman you talk about often—Daisy Swanson. You say she has a good heart, so I knew I didn’t have to be afraid of her.”

  “I hope you don’t have to be afraid of me,” Daisy said.

  Leah lowered her voice. “Grandma said you help solve murders.”

  “I don’t spread it around,” Daisy whispered.

  “She says the only reason you can do it is because you know how to ask the right questions, and you don’t make people mad.”

  “That’s a high compliment. I try not to make people mad. Maybe that leads me to the right questions.”

  “Come on now, Leah,” Vanna said, swinging her arm around her granddaughter. “You have to rest a bit.”

  “Resting is getting boring.”

  “Spoken like a ten-year-old,” Vanna whispered to Daisy as Leah ran toward another room at the back of the church.

  “Are you going to let me see your stash?” Daisy asked. “If you don’t have enough sleepers, I’ll spread the word.”

  “It’s hard to tell yet. We have another few days for the drive,” Vanna explained. “But come on. I’ll show you the room we’re keeping everything in.”

&nbs
p; The small storage room was chaos. Daisy spotted a couple of volunteers who usually helped at the thrift store. Agnes was one of them.

  “Do you already have the names of families who need the pajamas?”

  “Sure do,” Vanna said. “Reverend Kemp knows which families are the neediest. Along with that, if anyone comes to ask, we’ll gladly give to them. Some offer to volunteer with parish chores in return.”

  Vanna leaned her arm against Daisy’s. “I don’t suppose you just came to drop off the clothes for kids.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t. Can we go to your office or are you too busy? I don’t want to interrupt.”

  “You’re not interrupting. Let’s have a cup of tea. With cold setting in, I need several cups a day.”

  Vanna went into her office, turned on the electric kettle, and waited for it to bubble. A mug tree stood nearby and she procured two mugs from it. One said Oh, Happy Day, the other said Lift Up Your Eyes.

  Vanna had three tins of tea sitting on a tray. She said, “I have a strawberry herbal, a cinnamon rooibos, and orange pekoe. Which would you like?”

  “I’d like to try the strawberry—just something light for now.”

  As Vanna readied the tea, she glanced over at Daisy more than once. “A light tea means you want to talk about a heavy subject.”

  “I don’t know how heavy it is, but I just want you to be relaxed with me, and see if you can remember anything about the time Margaret was in New York.”

  “So this isn’t about the murder, per se.”

  “No. I just think we need to learn something about Margaret’s background.”

  “Let me think.” Vanna set Daisy’s mug in front of her while she took her mug to her desk and sat behind it. Daisy needed no complements to her tea, and Vanna didn’t seem to either.

  As they let the tea cool, Vanna said, “New York. I was so hurt when she left for New York. My mother was absolutely heartbroken. Up until then, she thought Margaret would come back into the fold. I thought she might too when she got a taste of New York. But that wasn’t to be.”

  “And you said you didn’t hear from her often?”

  “I sat down with a box of memorabilia a couple of days ago. It brought back memories that hurt.”