Murder and Herbal Tea

by Janet Lane-Walters

  She dialed and spoke of the discovery. “Zach already put the shop on their list.” Joyce stared at the ring of keys I held. “Hope the locksmith returns soon.”

  Lars chuckled. “Zach is a good man.

  I turned to my friend. “You could ask Jordan’s boss to change the locks. Didn’t you find him trustworthy when he worked here?” I said.

  “He was but I need to think about this,” Joyce said.

  “Ask Zach’s opinion. He would tell you if he didn’t think this Ben was the right person for the job.”

  “I will.”

  I picked up the folder Lars had received at the bank. “How did you discover the second account?”

  “I needed a password to enter Herbal Haven’s account. Joyce told me the one she knows. I noticed there were two files. I tried the same password with the second and was denied access.” Lars drove toward the center of town.

  The square two story building looked fairly new and faced the large town commons. Lars parked in front of the place and fed the meter. The three of us walked to the door and entered.

  Joyce pointed to the elevator. “The accounting firm has the entire second floor.”

  After exiting the elevator Lars held the door for Joyce and me. He paused at the receptionist’s desk. “Lars and Kate Claybourne and Joyce Rivers to see Mr. Simons.”

  “I’ll let him know you’re here.

  While we waited, I wandered into the waiting area. Cushioned chairs surrounded a long coffee table. Copies of the Wall Street Journal and other business related magazines lay on the glass top.

  With a start I realized Lars and Joyce walked down the carpeted hall. I scurried to catch them.

  Someone emerged from the first office along the hall. There was no chance to avoid a collision. I staggered and pressed my hand against the wall to maintain my balance. “Sorry.”

  The victim of my inattention, a handsome young man with dark hair, mumbled something I didn’t understand. Somehow he managed to smile though he held an envelope with his teeth and a large box in his hands.

  His pretty boy looks reminded me of Brenda’s choice in “friends.” I filed the thought with the rumors I’d heard when she taught high school math in my home county. She’d had a court of young men. Some had been Jordan’s friends. Two had dated Pam. Had these associations been platonic? Despite the rumors nothing had been charged or proven.

  Lars and Joyce reached the door at the end of the hall. I resumed a brisk walk and reached them just as the door opened. My curiosity bubbled with questions that might never be answered. Who was the young man? What was in the box? Was he Brenda’s lover?

  If my suspicions were correct he must be worried about being connected to her death. I knew the color and style of the car that had pulled into the Herbal Haven parking lot during my escape weekend. The driver hadn’t been close enough for me to swear he was the young man of the collision.

  I followed my companions into the huge office. On a long table against the left hand wall four computers stood. A broad highly polished desk spread in front of the window. Five chairs were arranged in a semi-circle facing the desk.

  Lars held out his hand. “Mr. Simons, I’m glad you agreed to see us. Lars and Kate Claybourne. I’m sure you know Joyce.”

  The short, husky man clasped Lars’ hand. “I do but I haven’t seen much of Mrs. Rivers in the past two years since I turned Herbal Haven over to Ted Grayson.”

  I arched an eyebrow. So the account had been turned over to this Ted person. Had Brenda chosen him?

  “I have some questions.” Lars said.

  “I’d be glad to discuss your concerns. Let me call Grayson since he knows more about the day to day doings of the business.”

  “Not yet,” Lars said. “There are things I want to show you before we speak to Grayson.

  A puzzled frown appeared. “I don’t understand.”

  Jayce smiled. “Mr. Claybourne will explain.”

  Mr. Simons took Joyce’s hand. “Was shocked by your partner’s death. I hope there won’t be more problems. Once our district attorney makes up his mind, it’s difficult to sway him.”

  Joyce nodded. “As I know.”

  “Now, just why are you here?” He indicated the chairs. “Please sit. What seems to be the problem?”

  Joyce settled on one of the chairs. “Initially Mr. Claybourne offered me the money to buy Brenda’s share of the shop. She accepted the offer. We would have closed the deal tomorrow but she’s dead. Mr. Claybourne is willing to loan me enough to turn the business from barely breaking even to becoming a successful enterprise.”

  Mr. Simons leaned forward. “Barely breaking even. I don’t understand. Though I haven’t handled your account for the past two years I oversee every one we handle. Herbal Haven is making money. I’ve seen the books and the tax receipts.”

  Lars rose and opened the folder. He removed an account book. “According to the figures Brenda presented to Joyce last month, the business isn’t expanding. The bank statements show a different picture and that puzzles me.”

  Mr. Simons pulled the folder across his deck. For a time he leafed through the pages. When he looked up he scowled. “Are you accusing my firm of wrongdoing?”

  “Not the firm but Mr. Grayson.”

  The accountant’s round face blanched. “I don’t understand. Ted is a hard worker. There’s never been a complaint against him.”

  “Could be just Herbal Haven that has a problem,” I said.

  Lars tapped the desk. “Compare what I’ve shown you to the records you have here. I intend to discover the truth. So does Joyce.”

  Mr. Simons walked to the bank of computers and opened a file on one. A printer spewed pages. “These are the figures entered by my associate. Twice a year I audit the accounts. You’ll find the numbers are the same as those on the bank statements.”

  “Then explain the difference.”

  I closed my eyes. All this number talk bored me. I wish I had remained at the shop. A second visit and a thorough examination of Brenda’s apartment might present more information. Or I could have completed the changes Joyce and I had started.

  “I can’t.” Simons said. “Where did you get this book?” He tapped the one Lars had opened.

  Joyce leaned forward. “That is what my partner showed me every month when the time came to take our share.”

  “I’ll call Grayson and see if he can explain what your partner did.” He hit a button. “Ted, I want to see you ASAP.” He waited. Minutes passed without an answer. He stabbed another button. “Paula, tell Grayson I want to see him now…He what?” Simons walked to the door and paused.

  I turned my head. “Is this Grayson a young man with dark hair and has the office at the end of the hall?”

  “Yes.”

  “As I hurried down the hall to catch up with the others we collided. He held a box and seemed to be in a hurry.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Lars’ forehead wrinkled. “What was that about?”

  “I think Brenda’s helper has decided to run. I wonder what he knows about the murder.”

  “Do you think he’s the one?” Joyce asked.

  “We won’t know until someone questions him.” I leaned back in the chair. Would I ever find the end to untangle the snarled mess?

  When Mr. Simons returned blotches stained his cheeks. His eyes flashed anger. “He’s gone. Resigned.” He held a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

  “I suggest you call the police,” Lars said.

  Mr. Simons sank on the chair behind his desk. “This could be a disaster. Before involving the authorities I need to examine his computer and his other accounts.” He rose. “I’ll be in his office accessing his files and calling in an outside auditor.”

  “How long will that take?” Lars asked.

  Simons shrugged. “One will be here tomorrow. If Grayson erased his computer the data will need to be recovered. If that’s even possible.”

  I rose. “Perhap
s the password protected account on the shop’s computer can provide information.”

  “Except we can’t open it,” Lars said.

  The accountant nodded. “I’ll make copies of the material you’ve gathered to show this forensics man. You can wait in the reception area. Would certainly help if we could learn where the money is.”

  Joyce frowned. “Brenda probably used it to buy designer clothes and expensive jewelry.”

  “Maybe not all.” In my head I tallied the amount of the sales in the boxes we hadn’t packed for shipping and the amount of cash and credit card sales I’d taken during the day I’d worked at the shop. Herbal Haven probably sold several hundred dollars’ worth of goods every day. I suspected much of the cash had stuck to Brenda’s fingers.

  Mr. Simons carried away the folder Lars had showed him. We followed down the hall and sat in the waiting area.

  A short time later, the accountant returned. He handed Lars the folder and a stack of print-outs. “The forensic accountant will arrive this afternoon and begin work tomorrow. I’ve added the material from Grayson’s and my computer. There are some gaps in his. If you have any idea of the extent of the problem, don’t hesitate to call.”

  As we left the office Lars clasped the massive holder. He turned to Joyce. “What did Brenda teach?”

  “Math,” she said.

  “Accounting and economics,” I added.

  “Figures.”

  We paused beside the car. Lars turned to Joyce. “Let’s go to lunch. Your choice. I’m sure you know where the food’s good. We can leave the car and walk.” He added a coin to the meter.

  “What are you in the mood for?” she asked.

  “Cool air,” I said. “A salad, iced tea, though I doubt any of the restaurants serve mint blend.”

  Joyce laughed. “Actually, several do and purchase their selections from Herbal Haven.” She turned to Lars. “And you?”

  “Sandwich. Maybe shrimp.”

  She smiled. “I know just the place.”

  Chapter 7

  Joyce led us along a gravel path across the grassy commons. Benches along the sides were shaded from the sun’s fiery rays by full-leaved trees. Only a few clouds drifted across the blue sky. The intensity of the summer heat had caused grass to brown at the edges.

  Joyce paused at the curb and waited for us. She pointed across the street. “Vintage Victorian. You’ll like the food. Salads, soups and sandwiches at lunch and more hearty meals at dinner. There are four small dining rooms, two upstairs and two down.”

  “Breakfast?” I asked.

  She smiled. “The best stuffed French toast you’ve ever tasted.”

  We crossed the street. I studied the small Victorian and compared it to my “Painted Lady.” The house was smaller than mine but well-kept. The siding was mauve and the trim in shades of violet.

  “Lovely.” I strode up the steps to the porch and opened the door. Cool air caressed my face, inviting me to dash inside. The aromas of food caused my stomach to rumble.

  The hostess smiled. “Joyce, it’s so good to see you. What’s wrong with the police? How could they imagine you could kill that woman?”

  “We were partners and I found the body. According to the DA that means I’m guilty.”

  The hostess shook her head. “Man’s ambitions. Half the women in town have motives for the murder, especially the younger ones. The way Brenda swept through the young men was unreal. She must have had twenty or more lovers since she moved here. Enough about her. When does Herbal Haven open? We need to refill our supply of mint teas.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Joyce said. “If you give me your order, I’ll fill it.”

  “I’ll let the manager know.” The hostess pulled three menus from a holder. “Were you really buying her out?”

  “That was the plan.”

  I halted and nearly caused Lars to plow into me. Where and when had she heard the rumor? I thought Brenda didn’t want anyone to know. I wanted to know more.

  There were seven tables in the room, all spaced to insure some privacy. She showed us to one in the corner. The hostess handed us the menus and turned to leave. I set mine on the table. I couldn’t let her walk away before I learned who had told her about Joyce’s intentions.

  “Could you show me the restroom?” I asked.

  “Sure. Right this way.”

  I walked at her side. “How did you hear Joyce planned to buy Brenda’s share of Herbal Haven?”

  She chuckled. “Monday evening Brenda came for dinner and to meet that Grayson fellow. He was late.”

  “Was he the one who told?”

  “Actually no. Some big obese guy stomped to her table and started yelling. ‘You’re not getting away with selling out. We have an agreement and you’ll keep it.’”

  “Did other customers hear?”

  She shook her head. “The room was empty. Monday nights are slow.

  What agreement, I wondered. The man she described fit Frank Browne. So he had known Brenda’s plans. The hostesses’ story agreed with what Jordan had said about his father’s visits. Had Brenda’s ex arrived at the shop later that night? Maybe he’d never returned home.

  “What else happened?”

  She looked around and lowered her voice. “Why do you want to know?”

  “To help Joyce. Tell me all you remember. What you say could be important.”

  “Brenda spoke in that snippy voice she uses. ‘I don’t care about you and your business. Maybe the new owner will take you on. You always had a thing for her but she wasn’t buying.’ She laughed. ‘Don’t play games with her.’ His voice was rough. His face turned red. She glared. ‘You could find another place for your wares. I’m taking the money and heading south. Go away. I’m expecting a guest.’”

  “Did he leave?”

  “After he told her he would get what was his and she’d better have it ready tonight. She smiled that smug look of hers. ‘Come next week.’” The hostess shuddered. “He muttered something I couldn’t make out. Do you think he killed her?”

  I shrugged. So Frank and Brenda had been involved in some money-making scheme. What? Had he killed her because she’d shoved him away? While he was lazy, he was also a bully. Sometimes bullies snapped and did dreadful acts.

  “I don’t think so. You should go to the police and tell them what you overheard.”

  She stared at the floor. “Would they believe me? Besides Brenda told me he was blowing steam because she’d brushed him off. Herbal Haven wasn’t interested in carrying his products any longer.”

  What products, I wondered. Frank was an attorney. Maybe he was acting for one of his clients. That led my thoughts to dark destinations I didn’t care to visit.

  “Did her young friend arrive?”

  “Maybe ten minutes after the other one left. He calls her his hot cougar. Imagine that.”

  “And what does she call him?”

  “Her teddy bear.” The hostess made a face. “The way they carried on was disgusting.”

  That confirmed my suspicions about the identity of Brenda’s current lover. So Ted Grayson had a reason to want her dead, especially if she had used him to skim money from the shop and wasn’t willing to share.

  “Interesting.” I reached for the rest room door. “Think about speaking to the police.”

  “I will.”

  After a quick pit stop I returned to my companions. Lars had opened some of the papers from the folder. He ran a finger down the columns.

  Joyce leaned close enough so she could see. “Never heard of the company.” “Why did I let her become so involved in ordering?” She pointed to several other items. “I wonder just what supplies they were supposed to provide.”

  Lars closed the folder. “We’ll finish this at the house. If some of these checks haven’t cleared or weren’t automatically deposited, a stop order to the bank will work.” He looked up and winked. “Interrogation over?”

  “For now.”

  Before I had a chance t
o tell them what I had learned, a waitress arrived. We placed our orders.

  What I’d learned from the hostess raised questions I wasn’t sure had answers unless Frank talked. He moved to the top of my suspect list. Why remained the huge question. What kind of business connected him and Brenda?

  Lars touched my hand. “Learn anything interesting?”

  “Seems Brenda wasn’t good at keeping secrets. Frank certainly knew about the buyout. They had a quarrel here about it on Monday evening. I wonder who else she told.”

  Joyce frowned. “I’m a double and triple fool. Why did she lie and tell me she didn’t want people gossiping about her plans?”

  “Her need to manage everything and everyone,” I said.

  The waitress arrived with the drinks and moments later the food arrived. A long sip of the iced mint tea refreshed me.

  Lars leaned forward. “You are good at gathering information. I can see why Pete offered you a consultant job.”

  I lifted my fork and took a bite of the salad, savoring the turkey, bacon and blue cheese. My thoughts churned with ideas. How could I find answers to the multitude of questions buzzing in my thoughts like wasps? A good sting might provide a way.

  With a snap I straightened. How much could I learn from the gossip around town? A shopping trip promised a chance to hear bits and pieces to fit into the larger picture. Murder was always a breeding ground for people to discuss what they knew and what they hoped was true.

  “What’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” I asked.

  “I need to comb those records,” Lars turned to Joyce. “Once we have a list I’m sure there will be calls to make. You need to check the bank statements for the names of companies you don’t recognize. I’m sure I’ll have questions for you.”

  “Though I’d love to be at the shop making changes I’ll hang around the house.” Joyce looked up. Scarlet stained her face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I feel like everyone’s staring.”

  I glanced at the occupants of the nearest tables. Unfortunately she was right. Not that people gawked. They stole quick glimpses. The way their bodies inclined toward our table let me know they tried to overhear.