Four Warned: A Cozy Mystery (Teas and Temptations Book 4)

by Cindy Stark

  Lucy glanced at the glasses, their surroundings, and nodded. “Yeah, who wouldn’t want some of this?”

  “It’s perfect, Hazel,” Cora added. “I might consider adding a few outdoor tables, too. Though I’m not sure how the servers would feel about having to monitor double areas. Let me know how yours works, okay?”

  Hazel sipped her iced tea, still loving the new combination, and nodded. “Of course.”

  She should probably keep up with the niceties for a few more minutes, but she couldn’t wait any longer to share her news. She leaned closer to the center of the table. “Did you guys know that Karen Bernard was Father Christopher’s daughter?”

  Cora spouted a stunned “no”, but Lucy seemed unaffected.

  Hazel focused her gaze on Lucy. “You don’t seem surprised.”

  Lucy remained stoic for a moment and then nodded. “I knew. I became friends with Karen a few years back, not long after she moved to town. She didn’t tell me about her father for a long time, and when she did, she asked me to keep quiet.”

  “So, she knew the Father was her father.” One less coincidence to contend with.

  “Yeah, she knew. She moved here because she wanted to know more about the man who’d deserted her mother before she was ever born.”

  Cora’s features turned disappointed. “He just up and left? What kind of man does that?”

  “The Father Christopher kind,” Lucy said matter-of-factly. “He was almost done with priest school, or whatever you call it. If the church knew he had an illegitimate child, they would have kicked him to the curb. He’d told her mother he’d send support money and that he’d come back for her after he’d been established. He said he could pretend to fall in love with the poor woman and her child, and no one would suspect. But the jerk took off and never looked back.”

  Hazel sat back against her chair, flabbergasted. “That’s incredible.” She wished she could add to the story and tell them what he’d done to Mrs. Elwood, but she couldn’t cause the woman more pain or angst.

  Cora set her cup on the table. “Did Karen ever confront him?”

  Lucy shook her head. “No. After she discovered who he was and what he was, she had no desire to become his known kin. I’m not sure why she stuck around town after that.”

  The gears in Hazel’s brain cranked up to full speed. “Would she have wanted her father dead? Could she have poisoned the strawberry tart before she’d had the accident and died?”

  Lucy nodded. “Maybe. I mean, she knew I was baking him a special tart, so yeah, I think she could have had a chance. Whether she did or not, we’ll never know.”

  Hazel wondered at her quick response, but then again, having the blame cast on someone else would be a great thing in her shoes, and Karen could no longer be punished. Though if it wasn’t Karen, Lucy might be helping a killer go free.

  Hazel couldn’t say she wouldn’t do the same in her situation. Life in prison for murder carried a hefty sentence. Such a conundrum.

  Cora shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t see her there that day, and I’m not sure I ever saw her enter the church at all. She’d be a sore thumb if she did, wouldn’t she?”

  Lucy shrugged. “Can’t say. I’m just saying it’s possible. The hate the woman carried for the man was powerful.”

  Hazel couldn’t say she hated her father for deserting her, but then again, she’d had a great childhood with her mother and aunts around. If circumstances were different, then maybe.

  Lucy cleared her throat and stood. “Look, I gotta go, ladies. Promised I’d help Rosalinda at the church, and I’m already late. Thanks for the walk, Cora, and the tea, Hazel. I appreciate having friends like you.”

  Hazel smiled. “Of course.”

  Cora stood and hugged her. “You’re the one who’s the amazing friend. I’d be in trouble without you.”

  Lucy gave them both a warm grin and then turned away with a wave. “Catch you on the flipside.”

  Hazel and Cora remained silent for several moments until Lucy was halfway down the block. Then Hazel sighed. “I feel so bad for her.”

  Cora nodded. “You can see in the way she walks that she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. I think she’s hopeful that she will be exonerated, especially since they haven’t arrested her yet, but it has to be a huge worry.”

  “I can’t even imagine.” Hazel took a long sip from her drink, and then reset her emotions as best she could.

  She’d asked Cora to stop by for a very important reason, and she supposed it was time to reveal that beast and slay it. “How about we take these drinks inside? I can only take so much heat during the day.”

  “Same,” Cora said and stood. “I think being inside all the time has made me intolerable of the sun and heat.”

  Hazel stood and held the door open for her friend. As she followed her inside, she sent a silent prayer to the Blessed Mother hoping the next few minutes ended with insight and happiness.

  Twenty-One

  Hazel led the way into the backroom where she had her laptop open to the ancestry page. She pulled two stools to that area so they could sit. “Thanks for making time for me today.”

  Cora glanced at the screen with an interested but uncertain look and then back to Hazel. “You were a little cryptic, but of course I came. I’ll always be here for you.”

  Cora’s declaration sent Hazel’s emotions swimming for the surface.

  “Hey,” Cora said and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Hazel inhaled a shaky but fortifying breath. “I’ve been doing some research on my ancestry and discovered a few things that could have a significant impact on my life. And I’m really scared.”

  Cora turned to the screen again. “Like what?”

  “Like…” She forced another breath. “Like I think I’m related to Peter’s dead wife. I think she’s part of Clarabelle’s lineage.”

  Her eyes popped wide. “Sarah was? Show me.”

  It took them several minutes to search through other possibilities, but when they finished, the answer stared them both in the face screaming disaster.

  Cora slumped in her chair. “Oh…”

  The tone of her friend’s voice magnified by five hundred was exactly how she felt. “This will break us,” she whispered.

  Cora drew her brows together. “You and Peter? No. Why would it?”

  She snorted in disbelief. “Because his wife’s death is the reason I’m now in Stonebridge.”

  “Yeah.” Cora obviously wasn’t buying into it. “But you didn’t kill her. Or even cause her to be killed. That’s on someone else.”

  “Yeah,” Hazel countered. “But I’m the by-product of that disaster. Once Peter knows, he’ll think of that every time he sees me. How can he not be resentful of me over time? What if he secretly wishes Sarah was still here and not me?”

  Her voice broke on the last words. She wrapped her arms tight around her midsection as though that might protect her heart.

  The expression on Cora’s face seemed uncertain, too. “I don’t know, Hazel, but I think you’ve got to trust him with this one. It’s your only option.”

  “I could leave. I could pack up what I own and head back to Boston, or to someplace he could never find me.”

  Cora looked at her like she was crazy. “And you think that will solve everything?”

  “He won’t have to see my face everywhere he goes.”

  “You’re talking about breaking the man’s heart. A man who’s already been through hell. How could you even consider it?”

  She cupped her hand over her mouth. “I’m a horrible person,” she said with muffled words.

  “No.” Cora removed her hand and pressed it between her own. “You’re a wonderful, compassionate person who has a relationship with a kind and caring man. Trust yourself and more importantly, trust him.”

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  Cora’s gaze turned stern. “Of course, you can.”r />
  She exhaled, but it didn’t relieve the pressure on her heart. “He’s coming to my house tonight.”

  Her friend gave her a firm nod. “Then it looks like you have your opportunity to tell him. Don’t sit on this, Hazel. It will only fester and hurt you both more in the long run. Be honest with the man, and then give him some space if he needs it to process. Trust me. He’s not going anywhere.”

  Hazel prayed her friend was right. If she’d thought she’d done hard things in life before, they were nothing compared to this.

  The rest of the day dragged by excruciatingly slow. Every second was consumed with imagining the look on his face, the angst that would pour from him and eat her soul.

  By the time she walked through her door, she could barely hold together her frayed emotions. She brought her laptop to the couch and pulled up the website again. With painstaking precision, she traced her lineage to Clarabelle and then followed the line back down to where it split off from Sarah’s. They were practically cousins.

  She was dating the husband of her dead cousin.

  A wave of nausea rolled through her, and she questioned the universe’s sanity. Was this the Karma bus coming for her for some misdeed she couldn’t remember?

  She closed the laptop and set it on the coffee table before collapsing back onto the couch pillows. She played out different scenarios of how this might end after she’d told Peter, and none of them were good.

  He’d never be able to look at her again without thinking of his dead wife.

  When the doorbell rang, she didn’t move. Mr. Kitty climbed out from beneath the coffee table where he’d been watching her. When the doorbell rang a second time, he meowed, impatient that she wasn’t getting up.

  She should. She needed to, but her body wouldn’t respond.

  Loud knocks on the door jolted her like punches. The hinges on her front door squeaked, and she turned in shock. She was certain she’d locked it. But there was Peter striding toward her with deep concern etched on his face. “Hazel.”

  Mr. Kitty trotted along behind him, and she knew he was the one who’d unlocked the door for Peter.

  Traitor.

  Peter dropped to his knees on the carpet before the couch. “What’s happened? Why didn’t you answer the door?”

  She tried to speak, but only muffled sobs escaped. In the next few moments, she’d change his life, and not for the better. She hated herself to the core for that.

  He cupped her face and moved in close to her so she couldn’t focus on anything else. “Are you hurt?”

  She placed a hand over her heart and then slowly did the same to him.

  “Your heart hurts? My heart hurts? Jesus, Hazel, talk to me.”

  She closed her eyes for a long moment, searching for a shred of strength. Soft fur rubbed against her arm, and she opened her eyes to find Mr. Kitty squirming his way next to her on the couch.

  He was there for her. He’d give her strength. She wasn’t in this alone.

  Knowing that brought more tears to her eyes, and she worked to blink them away. She cleared her throat and managed a partial sitting position. “I learned some really bad news today. And it’s…it’s going to hurt both of us.”

  His features darkened, and she sensed the shield he’d try to use to block the pain. “Tell me, Hazel. Tell me now.”

  Her breath shook her lungs as she inhaled, and she was grateful she had the couch beneath her for support. “Remember how I explained to you about the curse that would ensure someone from each of the original witches’ families would always live in Stonebridge? Even if she didn’t know she was a witch?”

  He narrowed his gaze and nodded.

  “I’ve discovered who I replaced.”

  He held her gaze for several long moments, and then his expression crumbled. Anguish ripped across his features, and he shook his head. “No.”

  She nodded. “I was drawn here because Sarah died.”

  Another sob escaped her, and Mr. Kitty meowed in response. He stood and rubbed against her arm until she placed a hand on his soft fur.

  “She wasn’t a witch,” Peter whispered.

  Hazel nodded. “I don’t know whether she knew or not, but she was.”

  Warmth and comfort from her cat filled her. It wasn’t enough to chase away the sorrow, but his presence did take the edge off.

  She was certain Mr. Kitty was using his power to absorb it, and gratitude gently rocked her soul. “I’m so sorry, Peter. I would change it if I could.”

  He wiped the moisture from his eyes and stood. She feared he’d turn and walk away. Instead, he lifted her shoulders and slipped behind her, cradling her back against his chest, and holding her with a fierce embrace.

  She wrapped her arms over his and searched for his fingers. Mr. Kitty climbed onto her stomach, lying on top of their clasped hands.

  Hazel wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way. Peter’s chest stopped shaking from his controlled, quiet crying, and her tears eventually dried up, too, leaving her drained of emotion.

  “Will you stay with me tonight, Peter?” she whispered. “I don’t mean sex, but I won’t sleep unless I know you’re okay, and I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

  “Yeah,” he said in a low, gravelly voice next to her ear. “I don’t want to be alone, either.”

  They made their way toward her bedroom. After Hazel had changed into a t-shirt and pair of flannel shorts, she climbed into bed next to Peter. He’d discarded his pants, but kept his t-shirt on.

  She slid next to him, allowing him to cradle her against his chest. The rhythmic thumping of his heart brought her comfort, and she slipped a hand across his chest until her fingers curved over his shoulder.

  Beyond exhausted, she allowed sleep to chase away her pain and angst. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but she still had Peter in her life, and that was all she could ask for.

  Twenty-Two

  Hazel woke the next morning to the scents of bacon and coffee. She glanced to the empty space in her bed, sad to find he’d woken without her. But, with things being so tentative right now, she could understand.

  She padded into the kitchen, and actually managed to smile when she caught Peter feeding small pieces of bacon to Mr. Kitty. “Bribery, is it?”

  He lifted his gaze, and she soaked up the warmth she found there. His features still looked ragged from the night before, but his aura was clear. “I think we’re buddies.”

  Mr. Kitty meowed, and Peter tossed him another bit.

  She scoffed. “I’ve fed him for days. Weeks. And he doesn’t love me like that.”

  A kind smile turned Peter’s features. “I’m pretty sure he loved both of us a lot last night.”

  Emotion welled, but she forced it down. If Peter could hold it together, so could she. “Yeah. You’re right. I guess when I really need him, he’s there.”

  Mr. Kitty rubbed against Peter’s jean-clad legs and then snatched the rest of the bacon from his hand and ran. She and Peter both laughed.

  He stood, and she walked into his open arms. “He might love us,” she said. “But he’s not going to let us think we’re the boss.”

  Peter shrugged. “That’s okay.”

  Hazel hugged him as tight as she could, once again taking solace from the strong beat of his heart. She leaned back and glanced up. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. “I think so. Learning that about you and Sarah was quite a shock, but I’ve thought about it. I can think you’ve stolen her place, or that you’re the gift to help me heal and love again.”

  Blessed Mother, she loved his resiliency. It truly was a gift. “I hope I can be that person who helps you heal and find love again.”

  He squeezed her tight. “You already are.”

  She closed her eyes and held him for several long moments, absorbing the love that flowed from him and then, in return, sending her love to him.

  “Hungry?” he finally asked.

  She pulled away. “I think so, surprisi
ngly.”

  “I hope that you don’t mind that I made coffee instead of tea.”

  She snorted. “You do realize that the coffee you made and the coffeemaker you used are mine, right? Like it’s not a sin to drink something other than my teas.”

  He grinned. “Point taken.”

  Together, they whipped up scrambled eggs and toast, and then sat together at the table to eat. Hazel loved how easy it was to be with him, and how much he filled that once-hollow spot inside her.

  Peter lifted a piece of toast dripping with butter. “I’ve been thinking about the case.”

  Her brows shot up. “Are you serious?”

  She would have thought he would have been mulling over their situation like she had been, but he seemed to have accepted things and moved on.

  He gave her a sarcastic smile. “It beats the alternative.”

  She had to give him that. “Okay. What have you been thinking?”

  “I think you’re right. Odds are stacking against Rosalinda.”

  She was surprised to find he’d picked her. “What’s convinced you that it’s her?”

  “She’s the only one who still seems to be very angry at Father Christopher. You know that list you found?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ve been thinking. What if it was a list of people she could use to take the spotlight off her? Other more obvious suspects? She knows the church grounds well. She could have slipped in through a side door, especially if she still had keys to the building. With all the commotion out front with the cook-off, no one would notice. She mentioned to me that she knew in advance about Lucy’s strawberry tart, so…”

  Hazel considered his points and nodded thoughtfully. “You might be right. Lucy as a suspect has bothered me all along. I mean who would poison her own tart? As soon as the cause of his death was discovered, the evidence would point right to her. That would be a crazy move.”

  Peter pointed a determined fork at her. “Exactly.”

  “So, how are you going to prove it?”

  He grinned. “I thought you could do that for me, Miss Smartypants.”

  She relaxed another notch, so grateful things between them were good again. “If I keep solving all your cases for you, you’re going to have to start paying me your salary.”