After she introduced Schumacher to her aunt, she showed him to his place setting at a table for one.
Seated, he picked up one of her dessert plates decorated with tiny pink roses. Turning it over, he stated, “It’s Bavarian. I’ve seen the pattern before. Quite common.”
He still hadn’t smiled. Daisy felt like saying, If you smile, you’ll be more handsome. But the arrogant self-important air surrounding him kept her silent.
From Schumacher’s blog, Daisy knew he preferred to have afternoon tea on a day when the tea room took reservations for service. That way he could gauge service style as well as taste food.
After she brought him a pot of Daisy’s blend tea and poured it into his cup, the critic took a small camera from his inside pocket. He said, “I’m going to take photos to accompany my blog.”
He wasn’t asking permission. After he spread his napkin on his lap, he took his camera in hand and took several shots of the group seated in the tea room.
While he snapped photos, she asked, “Would you prefer soup or salad or both?” Usually her customers just received one, but this was Derek Schumacher.
“What’s the dressing on the salad?”
Karina answered from the table next to his where she was pouring tea, “It’s a sweet and sour bacon dressing.”
He focused on Daisy instead of her server. “And what is your soup?”
“It’s cheesy cauliflower soup.”
“All right. I’ll take a small serving of each.”
A small course of each would require different plating than her servers had already set out for Derek. Daisy hurried to the kitchen, pulled out a pink Depression ware glass dish for the salad and a bowl for the soup. The pink Depression ware complemented the white plates with pink roses she’d chosen for Derek’s service.
Daisy watched as Karina crossed to Schumacher’s table with his soup and salad. He looked her over from her pink hair, down her yellow apron, to her neon green clogs.
After Karina hurried back to the kitchen, she told Daisy, “He wants an oolong tea next. He also asked for another glass of water. He drank that first one down pretty quickly.”
Daisy wondered what that was about. Because the weather had warmed up, she’d turned on the air. It wasn’t hot in either of the tea rooms.
Soon Cora Sue was delivering maple and walnut scones to Derek along with a raspberry spread.
Moving to the sales counter in the main tea room that was right outside the yellow tea room’s doorway, Daisy unabashedly observed the food critic. He was taking his time eating, not hurrying at all. He seemed to enjoy every bite and every sip. However, he did ask for a third refill of water.
Daisy decided to serve him her fresh fruit plate herself. It held selections of kiwi, pineapple chunks, hulled strawberries, and grapes. She’d included a small silver fork.
When she set it down in front of him, she said, “I hope you’re enjoying the food.”
He didn’t comment on the food, but rather sat back in his chair, stroking his chin. “I’m ready for the next course.”
Many women would consider him handsome, but she didn’t go for his type. Too polished. His fingernails looked as if he might have had a manicure. His blazer looked expensive. She could tell by the way it fit and the sheen of the material. When he’d walked in, she’d noticed his shoes were a supple leather. And then there was his tie. He was wearing a two-tone brown dotted silk tie and it looked like one from the Armani collection that she’d seen in the window at Men’s Trends. The tie bar on it held three nice size . . . diamonds? She really doubted that they were rhinestones.
As Daisy spoke to several customers on the way back to the kitchen, she saw Cora Sue bringing Derek a tiered plate of tea sandwiches. She’d also included a bacon and cheddar puff pastry along with chicken salad sandwiches and the cucumber and pimento pumpernickel triangles. Yes, she’d gone all out today. She hadn’t had much choice.
As Derek took in his surroundings, he watched the guests, the servers, and Eva as she cleaned his place after each course. When Karina brought him a tiered plate of assorted sweets including a cream puff, a brownie, Snickerdoodles, and a blueberry tart, he smiled. Daisy wondered if that course was his favorite.
Aunt Iris passed the sales counter where Daisy stood. She leaned close and whispered, “I’m so glad I decided not to serve him. My hands would be shaking. I’d spill something.”
“Eva, Cora Sue, and Karina are doing a fine job. With Tessa holding down the fort in the kitchen, we’re good. Only the sorbet course to go.”
Daisy herself presented Derek a lemon sorbet in a pink parfait glass. She moved away after he said thank you, letting him recall how much he’d enjoyed the food and the atmosphere.
Ten minutes later Derek Schumacher approached her at the service desk. “Could I have a dozen of those pimento and cucumber sandwiches? I’ll snack on them later. They are different. They’d make a nice hors d’oeuvre. And could you also pack up a half dozen of those Snickerdoodles?”
Daisy had a dilemma. Should she offer him the food for free?
His brown eyes caught hers. “No, I can’t accept food for free if that’s what you’re thinking. Just give me a total.” Iris was standing nearby, heard his order, and hurried to the kitchen for the sandwiches and cookies.
As Daisy totaled up his purchase, he said, “I know you’re dying to ask when the review will be released. I have a few tea rooms to blog about before yours. As soon as I write it, it will go in my pipeline.”
And that was all he said until Iris brought his food from the kitchen and handed it to him. Then he nodded, said thank you again, and left.
Daisy gazed at Iris. “I have no idea what he’s going to write about in his blog.”
* * *
That evening Daisy pulled another weed from her back garden. Beside her, Jazzi did the same. It seemed odd that Jonas had never really seen her gardens. Herbs from last year were sprouting and she’d planted new ones. The oregano and English thyme wintered, but she’d have to replant pineapple sage, lemongrass, chives, marjoram, and basil. She and Jazzi had turned over soil for onions. She would have to wait until May to plant heirloom tomatoes and peppers.
When Daisy heard a car on the gravel at the garage, she knew it was Jonas. They were going to have a late dinner. Jazzi was antsy because she didn’t know exactly when Portia would be going away with her husband to tell him that she’d had a baby before she’d met him. A baby she’d put up for adoption. Jazzi seemed to think Portia would call her with details. Daisy wasn’t so sure.
Jonas appeared from around the side of the house, and Daisy couldn’t help but smile. It was a beautiful spring night, and only a light breeze ruffled her loose blond hair against her cheek. Jonas looked good in jeans and a crew-neck cream-colored shirt.
She told him, “Jazzi and I have been puttering around the garden. I can’t wait to have fresh herbs and vegetables again from my own backyard.”
After giving Daisy a light kiss, he asked, “Do deer and rabbits bother any of it?”
“The deer mostly munch on the low-hanging tree branches and bushes. And the bunnies? We share our vegetables with everyone.”
Jonas laughed, a deep rich sound that had brought a new aspect to her life that she so appreciated.
Jazzi asked Jonas, “Do you want to see where we found Marjoram and Pepper?”
“Of course I do. It’s important for me to know the background on my favorite felines.”
Daisy heard Jazzi laugh. She also heard her say, “Mom wants to start up an English garden, but that will take research and ordering plants online. She likes to buy local when she can.”
How comfortable Jazzi felt with Jonas. Daisy had the feeling her daughter even trusted him. Maybe that came from Jonas helping her to search for her birth mother. But how would her daughter feel if Daisy and Jonas became more serious? On the other hand, how would Jazzi feel if this new relationship fell apart?
After Jazzi explained how Marjoram and
Pepper were only a pound when she and her mom found them, she came over to the patio where Daisy had laid her gardening tools.
Jazzi said, “I’ll go in and start the meat for the tacos. You do like tacos, don’t you?” she asked Jonas. “Because if you don’t, we’ll have to order pizza.”
“I like tacos just fine.”
After Jazzi was inside, Jonas came over to Daisy and held her gently by the shoulders, gazing into her eyes. “Do you think Jazzi went in so we could have time alone?”
Daisy smiled, always tingling with anticipation when Jonas was this close. “It’s possible. She’s perceptive. She’s trying to keep herself busy so she doesn’t think about Portia.”
“I get that,” Jonas said. He brought Daisy a little closer.
Dusk was falling rapidly with only a few solar lights lighting the walkway to the back door.
He murmured to Daisy, “I think we should take advantage of the quiet and the privacy, don’t you?”
She hardly had time to nod before he kissed her. This time it was a serious kiss. But as she was melting from the heat of it, the cell phone in her jean’s pocket played its tuba sound. “I can let it go to voice mail,” she whispered.
“Maybe you’d better see who’s calling,” he suggested.
Because they were getting too hot and heavy? Or simply because he was considerate that way? She sighed. As a mother, she usually answered calls in case Vi or Jazzi were calling. Now, however, she saw Foster’s number on her screen.
She accepted the call. “Hi, Foster. What’s up?”
“Mrs. Swanson, I hate to do this to you, but I might be late tomorrow morning. I wanted you to know.”
“Can you tell me why?” Daisy asked.
“I just need the time. I’ll be back by ten. I promise. I’ll make this up to you.”
Up until now, Foster had been reliable and hardly taken a day off. “Foster, I’m concerned about you. Are you sure everything’s okay?”
His voice sounded a little shaky when he said, “It will be. I’ll see you tomorrow. Then I’ll make sure I carry double my weight.”
“That’s not necessary. Just come back safe and settled.”
After Foster said good-bye and ended the call, Daisy called Aunt Iris to let her know Foster would be late in the morning. Afterward, Jonas put an arm around Daisy. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know and that’s the problem. Yesterday, Foster asked me if he could leave early and I let him. But now he said he’s going to be late tomorrow. I don’t know, Jonas. I hope he’s not in trouble of any kind.”
Jonas’s brow creased as he apparently thought about her worry. “Foster doesn’t seem like the type to get into trouble.”
Jonas knew Foster well because Foster had stayed with him for a while when he was deciding if he wanted to rent his own place or stay under the same roof with his family. In the end, he’d decided to stay at home but to start paying his dad for room and board. That way he could save some money but still take on responsibility. Daisy admired him for doing that.
“Why is it so difficult for men to ask for help?” she mused.
“Just men?” Jonas’s voice held some humor rather than defensiveness.
“Mostly men. After Ryan was diagnosed, he hated to ask me to do anything for him. And when he had no choice, he deeply regretted asking. When a woman cares about somebody, she wants to do things for the person she cares about.” Daisy had to bite her lip because she almost used the word loved.
“And my silence sometimes makes you think I don’t want to ask for your help,” Jonas commented softly.
“Something like that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “Do you mind when I talk about Ryan?”
She felt him shake his head. “You don’t do it very much. No, I don’t mind. Seeing inside a marriage is often enlightening.”
She wondered how it was enlightening. Did it show her character? Ryan’s? How they’d been committed to each other?
She and Jonas hadn’t reached that commitment talk yet, and she didn’t know when they would.
* * *
The next morning Jazzi had soccer practice, so Daisy arrived for work early. Iris was already taking cookies out of the oven and Tessa stood at the mixer.
“Those smell delicious,” Daisy said, stopping at the kitchen before going to her office.
“Just a shortbread cookie.” Iris grinned. “I’m going to sprinkle them with spring colors—pink, blue, green, and yellow.”
“That will make them stand out. The customers will like that.”
Tessa turned away from the mixer to ask Daisy, “How was your date with Jonas last night?”
Her aunt looked Daisy’s way, too, and she felt herself blush. “It wasn’t exactly a date. He came over and had dinner with me and Jazzi.” To change the course of the conversation, she said, “Remember, Foster said he’d be here by ten.”
“And you don’t know where he is?” Aunt Iris asked, letting Daisy change the subject.
“No idea. He didn’t want to say.”
“Have you asked Gavin?” Tessa asked.
“I don’t want to pry unless I have to. If there’s some reason Foster isn’t here by ten today, then maybe I will call his dad.”
Iris shook her head. “I don’t understand young people sometimes. On the other hand, Foster’s twenty, old enough to make his own decisions and stand by them.”
Just before opening time, Daisy heard a knocking at the front door to the tea garden. Their CLOSED sign was up. Who would be knocking?
“I’ll check,” she told Tessa and Aunt Iris. “Maybe someone desperately needs a scone,” she joked.
However, when she went to the door, peered through the glass, and saw who it was, her smile faded away. It was Detective Rappaport.
She could pretend that she hadn’t seen him, but he’d probably glimpsed her or her shadow through the glass. Rappaport was like the proverbial dog with a bone. He didn’t give up. That was a good quality for a detective, she supposed, but sometimes it was also a flaw.
She unlocked the door.
Detective Rappaport stepped inside. Morris Rappaport usually looked grumpy, but today his expression was more than serious. His thick, blond-gray hair was ruffled. In his fifties, he had deep lines on his face and grooves around his mouth. He was probably about five-ten, but his expression now made him seem taller and broader.
He asked, “Do you know who killed Derek Schumacher?”
Chapter Four
Daisy and her staff were absolutely shocked at Detective Rappaport’s news of Derek Schumacher’s death. She hoped he could see that.
“What happened?” she asked.
“That’s what I was going to ask you,” Rappaport returned.
“Do you think we had anything to do with this?” Cora Sue asked.
He gazed at Daisy’s server with a penetrating look. “That’s what I’m here to find out. Patrol officers will be here shortly, and we’ll question each of you individually.”
Daisy raised her chin and stepped forward. “We’re running a business here, Detective.”
“Oh, I know you are. But it’s a business Derek Schumacher had something to say about.”
“It’s not fair that you make us lose revenue again when this wasn’t even the crime scene,” her aunt Iris scolded.
To her surprise the detective didn’t become irate. Rather he stated, “We can do it one of two ways. I can either take you all down to the station, which will probably take longer, or I can bring my patrol officers in and we’ll question you here. An hour tops and you’ll be open again, unless I need one of you to answer more questions.”
“Do you have your eye on someone?” Daisy asked.
Rappaport was enigmatic about that. “Possibly.”
Just then Foster came into the tea garden. Daisy noticed right away that he looked tired and worried. He didn’t give her his usual smile and greeting, but rath
er asked, “Are we having a meeting?”
Before Daisy could answer, Detective Rappaport directed his gaze straight at Foster. “We’ve had another death in Willow Creek that could be suspicious.”
“Somebody we all know?” Foster asked, blinking behind his rimless glasses.
“I don’t know how well you knew him. It’s Derek Schumacher.”
Foster looked shaken by the news. “Where? How? It didn’t happen here, did it?”
Aunt Iris put her hand on Foster’s shoulder. “No, it didn’t. Thank goodness. We’re just learning what happened. But the detective isn’t giving us too many details. He wants to talk with each of us separately.”
“What about serving our customers?” Foster asked indignantly.
“Closing the tea garden for an hour isn’t going to bring your business down,” Rappaport reminded them. “If one of you is the killer, however, that could possibly do it.”
Daisy found if she ignored most of what Rappaport said, she didn’t get as angry with him.
Cora Sue turned to Aunt Iris. “Do you want me to stand outside and tell the customers who arrive that we won’t be open for about an hour? I’ll do it nicely and give them coupons for free tea and a scone.”
Iris nodded. “Sounds good. Eva can take over while you’re being questioned.”
Foster was already taking off his red windbreaker. “Why don’t I make us all a cup of chamomile? It should keep us calm.” He looked Rappaport straight in the eye. “There’s no reason why we can’t sip tea while you question us, is there?”
Rappaport studied Foster, from his dark brown hair and glasses to his cleft chin to his white shirt and khaki pants. Maybe he was gauging just how much Foster would defy him. But Daisy knew Foster wasn’t usually defiant. This bravado today seemed unusual.
The bell over the door to the tea garden jingled as two patrol officers stormed in. Detective Rappaport gave rapid-fire orders, telling Cora Sue to go with Otis Palmer while Eva and Karina went to another corner of the tea garden with Officer Jim Roland.
Rappaport motioned toward Daisy’s office. “Ladies, why don’t we go in there? I’ll ask the two of you questions. When we’re finished, then I’ll question Foster.”
Murder with Cucumber Sandwiches Page 4