Murder and Herbal Tea

by Janet Lane-Walters

  “You’re the latest attraction,” I said. “This will pass.”

  “Soon, I hope.” Her attempt to smile failed. “What will you do this afternoon?”

  “Plan dinner and shop.”

  Joyce shook her head. “Cooking in this heat is insane.”

  “What I plan doesn’t need much cooking. Is the farmer’s market still outside town near the diner?”

  “It is. How will you get there?”

  “My car.” A chuckle from Lars made me grin. “Wasn’t it fortunate that I came alone? You can do your business investigation and won’t need to fetch and carry me. Not to mention letting me drive your car.”

  Boisterous laughter greeted my remark. Lars generally allows others to drive his car, but not me after I told him I felt as though I drove a barge. “You win.”

  “What?”

  “Shopping to collect gossip.”

  “Why not? I’ll ride to the house with you. Just make a large pitcher of iced mint tea.”

  “No problem,” Joyce said.

  Lars patted my hand. “Just figured what you’ll be cooking. Has to be one of the dishes we would have eaten at Cedar Inn.”

  “Possibly.” I hid a smile. There’d been no lobster salad or gazpacho on the menu for last night’s reception. I decided to keep tonight’s offering a secret. Let Lars be surprised.

  We finished lunch and refused dessert. Lars paid the bill and we walked to the car and drove to Joyce’s’ house.

  I set off in my vehicle for the farmer’s market. The tomatoes were huge and I bought enough to fill one of the cloth bags I keep in the car. Fresh young celery, bunches of scallions and huge clusters of basil and cilantro filled two more bags.

  As I selected produce I listened to the chatter. Brenda’s murder headed the list for most mentioned. She certainly hadn’t won any popularity contests. Joyce had. I heard little to add to my thoughts about those on my suspect list.

  I set the filled bags on the back seat and drove to the grocery story. There I found lobster, limes, rolls and the remaining ingredients I needed for dinner.

  While cruising the aisles I listened to bits and pieces of gossip from the other shoppers. Ninety percent of the comments favored Joyce. I added some tidbits about Brenda’s behavior during the years she’d lived in my town.

  When had her thefts begun? How long had she and Grayson been friends? Four years ago she had bought into the partnership in Herbal Haven. Slowly she had made changes, so slowly Joyce hadn’t noticed or understood how the new ideas had turned the shop into Brenda’s idea of operation. At first the new innovations had been productive. The website and the ads had brought in new business. Then Brenda had begun to change the décor and how the products were displayed.

  My thoughts turned outward to glean more grains of gossip. Some of the speculation was far-fetched, especially of the way Brenda had earned money to indulge in her expensive tastes. Blackmail was mentioned along with high prices for her company. I savored each morsel and paid for the groceries.

  When I reached Dana’s house, the young woman waved. “Mom and Mr. Claybourne have gone to her attorney’s to have some papers prepared.”

  “Glad it’s them. I’m developing an allergy to most attorneys. Help me carry these groceries inside. I’m making dinner.”

  She lifted four of the canvas bags from the back seat. “For an army?”

  “Just us with leftovers for tomorrow.”

  “Can I help with the preparation?”

  “How are your knife skills?” On the cooking shows I watch, those abilities are frequently mentioned.

  Her eyes widened. “I usually hack.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll show you.”

  After mixing the spices for boiling the lobster and adding them to a huge kettle, I turned on the burner. While waiting for the liquid to bubble, Dana had a quick lesson in cutting vegetables. She caught on speedily, allowing me to start the next task, a simple syrup to which lime juice was added before setting it aside to cool. Some of the tomatoes were seeded and pureed with cilantro and garlic to make a base for the cold soup. The lobsters went into the boiling water and then into an ice bath to halt the cooking process.

  Into a bowl I mixed mayo, herbs and white wine to use as a dressing for the lobster salad. After whipping the cream and adding the lime infused syrup, I filled ramekins and put them in the freezer. Assembling the gazpacho came next. When finished, the huge pottery bowl went into the refrigerator. Dana and I cracked lobster and extracted the meat. After chopping the flesh into chunks I added scallions, celery, basil and the dressing.

  Dana snatched a taste. “Delicious. You make cooking seem easy.”

  “Years of practice, a few cooking lessons and a love of good food.”

  “Maybe I can learn.”

  “Why not?”

  “Now what?”

  I chuckled. “We wait for Lars and your mother.”

  * * *

  At five thirty, Lars and Joyce returned from the attorney’s office. He welcomed the vodka and tonic garnished with a wedge of lime. He carried our drinks to the umbrella table in the yard, Joyce and I told Dana about the morning’s guests and the mess in Brenda’s apartment. Once the drinks and snacks were finished, Dana and I carried the food and pitchers of iced tea and coffee outside.

  “Not what I thought you were making,” Lars said.

  “Surprises are fun.”

  Joyce looked up. “Leave the recipes for me and I’ll feature the lobster salad next week.”

  “Will do. The boil for the lobster is the one I left on the table. I’ll write out the dressing and the gazpacho.”

  “I took notes,” Dana said. “Mom, you could include the printed recipes in the mail orders.”

  “I like that.” Joyce said. “I’ll need to buy recipe cards or something.”

  When we finished the soup and lobster rolls Dana carried the leftovers to the house and returned with the frozen lime cream and the rest of the bride’s cake.

  As we scraped our plates, Zach pulled into the driveway. When he approached I noticed his hesitancy. His manner worried me. Why was he here?

  He shifted from foot to foot and cleared his throat. “Mrs. Rivers, I need you to come with me.”

  “Now?” Joyce asked.

  Dana clasped her mother’s hand. “Why?”

  Zach stared at his hands. “Witness. Swore he say your mother Monday night. Herbal House. Time of death.”

  “How is that possible when she wasn’t there?” I asked.

  “And you know this how?”

  “Whoever said that lied,” Joyce said.

  “Matters not.” Zach shrugged. “I have my orders.”

  Joyce’s sigh signaled resignation. “I’ll come but this is a mistake.”

  I caught her hand. “Do not answer any questions. Demand your lawyer’s presence and don’t talk until he’s there. Listen to his advice.”

  “Why? I’ve done nothing.”

  “Words can be twisted. The police may question you in rotating shifts. Exhaustion will cause you to make mistakes. You didn’t kill Brenda. You had no reason to want her dead.”

  Zach turned to face us. ‘Why would Grayson come forward and admit he was present in the apartment upstairs unless he told the truth? We questioned him all afternoon. He stuck to the story.”

  “To hide his own crime,” I said. “He helped Brenda steal money from Herbal Haven.”

  Lars shook his head. “Kate, enough.”

  “Why?”

  “Wait for proof.” Lars clasped Joyce’s hand. “Listen to Kate. She hangs out with the police at home and knows how their minds work.”

  “Definitely.” I said.

  Joyce dropped her arms to her side. “I’ll listen.

  We watched her walk beside Zach to his car. Dana ran to the house. Carrying some of the dishes I followed.

  The young woman whirled to face me. Tears tumbled over her cheeks. “I’ll never speak to him again.”

  I
clasped her arm. “He’s only doing his job. If we ask the right questions, he’ll be a good source of information.”

  “Really.” Hope flashed in her eyes.

  Lars set the rest of the dirty dishes on the table. “Kate has her ways.”

  After clearing the dishes. Lars and I walked to Joyce’s house. I needed to find a way to disprove Grayson’s allegations and prove Joyce wasn’t at the shop. Would he admit the truth, if he was arrested for embezzlement?

  “Why do you think Grayson lied?” I asked.

  “To cover what he and Brenda did with the money from Herbal Haven,” Lars said. “If my calculations are correct they may have taken several hundred thousand over the past two years. Hopefully we’ll be able to stop payments to nonexistent businesses."

  “That much. Poor Joyce.”

  He scowled. “Too trusting Joyce. That needs to change. She should consider taking some business courses.”

  “Tell her.” I stretched. “If Grayson finds where the money is, he’ll vanish.”

  “From what I’ve heard about that woman’s need to manage matters discovery won’t be easy. We need that password.” Lars turned on the television.

  I sat beside him. What I really wanted was another look at Brenda’s apartment. The proof we needed had to be there. Where was her hiding place? From the state of the bedroom, what I wanted to find had to be elsewhere.

  * * *

  The next morning we joined Dana at her home for breakfast. While I prepared a third cheese and scallion omelet, Zach knocked on the kitchen door.

  Dana let him in. “I shouldn’t talk to you but Mrs. M…uh C said I should. What happened to Mom? Why did you keep her there all night?”

  He groaned. “Material witness for now. DA wants to question her.” He winked. “She listened to Mrs. C’s advice. Attorney couldn’t be reached last night. In court today.”

  “Will the DA charge her?” I asked.

  “Other than Grayson’s story there’s no evidence connecting her to the crime. Still wonder why he would lie.” Zach looked longingly at the omelet I slid onto the plate.

  I started another. “Eat. I told you why.”

  Lars spooned some of the gazpacho over his omelet. “Talk to Mr. Simons at the accounting firm. He has a forensic specialist looking over Grayson’s accounts.”

  “You know this how?” Zach reached for a fork.

  “No solid proof yet, only suspicions,” Lars said.

  I poured the egg mixture into the omelet pan. “Just keep an eye on Grayson. If he finds the money he and Brenda stole, he’ll fly.” Before long I carried my plate to the table to join the others.

  “Tell me about this Grayson and why you suspect he’s embezzling.”

  I swallowed a bite of the omelet. “When we visited the accounting firm yesterday he had packed his belongings and left a letter of resignation. Hardly the act of someone with nothing to hide.” I reached to spoon some of the cold soup over my omelet.

  Zach nodded. “He told us about that. Said when he saw Mrs. Rivers enter the office he was afraid if she saw him he would be the next one to die. That’s why he came forward."

  “One problem with that story,” I said. “He was packed, letter in hand and on the way out when we arrived. Mr. Simons hadn’t told him about our visit.”

  Dana slapped her fork on the table. “Mom didn’t know who Brenda was taking to her bed. If she’d known she was being cheated she would have called the police.”

  “DA finds Grayson’s story credible.”

  “Balderdash.” I wanted to shout something stronger but my remark made Zach choke.

  Dana nodded. “That man would believe a chimp if he thought he would make a name and amp his political aspirations. Mom is innocent.”

  I finished my omelet. “Another person you should consider. Frank Browne. Brenda’s ex was in town Monday evening.”

  Zach groaned. “Jordan told us. DA dismissed that as petty nonsense.”

  “Frank knew about the buyout. Ask the hostess at Vintage Victorian about the fight he and Brenda had.”

  Zach wiped his mouth. “You’re a bundle of info. Anything else you’d like to share?”

  I leaned across the table. “I would like to know what Brenda and Grayson did with the money. Is it in cash, bank accounts here or some off-shore one? I’m sure Brenda kept the location secret. Control was her thing.” My desire to visit her apartment intensified. Somewhere in one of those rooms was the proof needed to clear my friend.

  “I wonder if—“

  “What?” My companions reacted at the same time.

  Like the lightning strike of a mosquito the thread vanished. “I’m not sure.”

  Zach rose. “Thanks for breakfast and the info. Hope to see Mrs. Rivers free today.”

  Dana grabbed her briefcase and walked to the door with him. “I’m due at the college for my classes. See you this afternoon.”

  “What time?”

  “Should be back around noon.”

  Lars and I cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. I paused at the door. “What are you doing this morning?” Since I wanted to visit Brenda’s apartment, I hoped he wouldn’t tag along. I felt sure he would object to my going there. Lars tends to see things in black and white. I revel in shades of gray.

  Conference call. Business manager, accountant, lawyer.”

  “All for Herbal Haven?”

  “Mostly, but a few other things. You can sit in if you wish.”

  “Not in this lifetime.” His lawyer could send a hyperactive child to sleep. “I thought I’d open Herbal Haven and see if there are orders to fill.”

  “Be careful. Keep the door locked.”

  “Always careful.” I plucked a ring of keys from the outside pocket of Joyce’s purse. Fortunately she hadn’t taken the bag with her when Zach took her to the station last evening.

  “You don’t know the meaning of careful. How many times have you blissfully leaped into danger?” He hugged me. “Think about your last adventure.”

  I kissed him. “Granted the last time I was a little bruised.”

  Memories of the night I’d hidden in a patient’s bathroom waiting for the killer arose. I recalled the syringe filled with a lethal dose of potassium and my struggle with the attacking woman. I shuddered. Would I have done anything differently? The truth had mattered then and still did.

  Lars walked to the door. “Time for my call.”

  I took my lunch and thermos from the refrigerator, locked the door and went to my car.

  Chapter 8

  Though I considered working on the computer and attempting to open the protected account, I was afraid using the wrong password might corrupt something. I would leave that task for Lars. Visiting Brenda’s apartment was my goal. As I pulled into the parking lot of Herbal Haven and parked my dark blue car beneath a huge oak tree, I revised my plans. Four cars followed me into the lot. Four women emerged and walked behind me.

  “Just who are you?” a thin woman asked.

  “Katherine M…Claybourne, Joyce’s friend." I recognized one of the women from my last visit.

  A second thin woman, a near twin of the first, nodded. “Saw you a month or so ago. I bought two teapots.”

  I smiled. “I remember. The ones Brenda hated.”

  “Is it true? Did the police arrest Joyce last night?” she asked.

  I slid the key into the lock. “Arrest, no. Said something about her being a material witness.” I flipped the light and air conditioning switches.

  “My husband is the District Attorney,” a curvaceous woman said. “He told me some young man admitted to being in Brenda’s apartment that night. He was waiting for her to come upstairs. He swears he saw Joyce with her partner.”

  Titters reached me. Hens, I thought.

  “I can just imagine what they were doing.” The fourth woman clasped her purse with both hands. “Maybe he pushed her down the stairs and mentioned Joyce to hide his own action.” She glared at the others. “Joyce
is our friend. That other creature wasn’t. Joyce wouldn’t kill anyone.”

  “But there was a witness,” the DA’s wife declared. “My husband said the young man’s testimony was credible.”

  “Witnesses lie,” Joyce’s defender said. “Your husband has political aspirations. Having a quick end to a murder investigation would make him look good.”

  “Being ambitious isn’t a crime.”

  The women crowded my heels as I strode to the counter. “Where was the body?” one of the women asked.

  “Was there much blood?” her near twin asked.

  Those questions filled the air. I refrained from answering. The four scattered in different directions. I was glad we had scrubbed the floor where Brenda had bled out. Imagine the twitters and exclamations if they had seen the dark spot. I rounded the counter and opened the cash register.

  Before long all four reached the counter carrying the items they planned to buy. “What’s your opinion of the rumors?” the DA’s wife asked.

  “Take them with a handful of salt. Why else would this Grayson wait several days to speak unless he wanted to draw attention away from himself?”

  One of the thin women nodded. “There’s more to him that will come out. He handled my husband’s business accounts. Some auditor has been called to examine all of the ones the young man oversaw.”

  The other thin woman gasped. “Tell us more. Do they think he’s a thief?”

  ”I can’t say another word until the audit is complete.” She reached for a plant on one of the hangers. “Dill?”

  I nodded. “With careful care you can harvest a fresh supply for years.”

  By the time the four paid for their selections, I was ready to scream. Instead I checked the price list and rang up their sales. I followed them to the door, hung the closed sign and locked the door.

  In the office I printed the orders that had arrived from the internet site. I hoped Dana knew how to deposit credit card slips. Back in the main room I arranged tea sets on the table, a task Joyce and I had begun.

  As I made rounds of the room collecting items to fill the orders, I paused in the sunroom. With added shelves and a table or two, this area would be perfect for the herbal beauty products Joyce wanted to stock. During the summer and again in ski season, the jars of skin lotion and creams would fly off the shelves. I returned to the cash register and leafed through several of the catalogues Joyce had collected.