“I’ve got it. Go and enjoy your class,” Shiv insisted, waving her employer toward the door.
The bell tinkled, announcing someone’s entrance. “Are we ready to go?” Carla asked, beaming from ear to ear.
Bert looked at her with a slight shock in her face. “Carla, you have to pay for the course to attend the classes,” she reminded her friend. She’d been talking non-stop about the things she was learning with her best friend over mornings coffee each day. Carla had mentioned wanting to come, but Bert had noted she wasn’t sure anyone could just sign up after classes had already begun.
“I know that. I talked to the shop owner and she’s letting me jump in at a reduced rate.”
“She is?” Bert exclaimed.
“Yep. I just couldn’t resist asking. She said that you could fill me in on the stuff I missed.”
Bert chuckled. “I guess I’ve already done that, haven’t I?”
“You two better stop gabbing and get a move on or you’ll be late.”
“She's right. It’s already five til,” Bert agreed, heading for the door. “Thanks, Shiv.”
“Good night, ladies.” She waved as they made their way out.
Once on the street, Bert let out a satisfied sigh. “I’m so glad you signed up, too.”
“I knew you would be. It means we can swap notes and ideas,” Carla squealed like a school girl.
“Not only that, but you can protect me from our resident class pest.”
“Pest?” Carla asked, digging in her purse and pulling out a tube of lip balm and applying it.
“I’ve told you about her. She always sits next to me and then makes annoying comments throughout the whole class under her breath to me.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, giving me more information on every single thing Susan says.”
“Reminds me of the kids who were know-it-alls in grade school.”
Bert chuckled. “Some things never change, do they?”
Arriving at the shop, Bert was happy to see that Tayler wasn’t there yet. Wooden fold-out chairs had been set up facing the counter, just like the last two times. “Come on. I’ll sit on the end and you sit next to me, so Tayler can’t come in and sit on the other side.”
“Oh, so I get stuck with her instead?” Carla complained.
“We don’t even know that she’ll sit next to you,” Bert assured her friend.
It was a false hope, to say the least.
The second Tayler had stepped into the store, she’d spotted Bert. Without missing a beat, she moved one of the chairs from the other row and pushed it up beside Bert in the empty space. “Hiya, friend. Mind if I sit here?” she asked, shoving the chair in and knocking Bert’s purse so that it fell over.
Bert bit the inside of her cheek to keep from telling her to get lost while she bent down to straighten her purse back up. She tried to focus on the sermon of charity and kindness that Pastor Chimney had given the previous Sunday in church. This woman was probably lonely and needed a friend. Bert told herself she could be that friend. “No, it’s all yours,” she replied.
Carla leaned in and whispered, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“It’s fine. Let’s just roll with the punches.”
They sat and waited for Susan to appear and start the class, but it seemed she wasn’t on the sales floor. However, the teacher had been very punctual, so far.
“We need to figure this out before you do anything else,” came a muffled voice from the back of the shop. Bert and Carla both looked that direction to see Susan emerging from the stock room with her sister in tow.
“The time to talk inventory is not right now. It can wait until the morning.”
“No, no it can’t. You can’t just keep ignoring our budget for every single thing you do,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper and trying not to cause a scene in front of all the class enrollees.
Clearly, the sibling tension wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“Please, sister. Later.” She walked away from Karen, completely ignoring her.
In return, Karen let out a frustrated huff, causing a stray silver hair to fall over her face as she turned and headed back to the stock room—and likely to the office to go over budgets again. Bert knew just how daunting handling money for a business could be.
Susan stood behind the counter with her arms outstretched and long sparkling sleeves hanging off on either side of her body. “Welcome, class. I’m so happy to see you all again, and even one of you for the first time,” she noted, giving a brief nod toward the new student, Carla.
“Thanks for having me,” she returned.
“Now, shall we get started on tonight’s lesson? I know some of you have been waiting for it with eager anticipation—cooking with wild herbs and spices.”
“Yes,” Bert said quietly to herself.
“Susan is one of the best cook’s you’ll ever meet, but I think I have a great knack for picking out herbs and spices myself. We should go wildcrafting together this week,” Tayler started in on her whispered side comments for the evening.
Bert bit her cheek again, hoping she’d be able to concentrate on the coursework without too much distraction.
“Does anyone have any questions before we begin? Anything you thought about while doing your exercise this week? Any questions about identifying plants?”
Much to Bert’s surprise, Tayler’s arm shot up.
“Yes? Uhm . . .” Susan hesitated, clearly trying to remember the woman’s name.
“Tayler.”
“Tayler, of course. I apologize. Did you have a question?”
“Are you thinking of changing the store’s name?”
Everyone in the room turned to look at her with a hint of confusion. The question seemed out of the blue and unrelated to anything they’d discussed thus far. Susan Green obviously had the same sense of misunderstanding. “Uhm, no. I don’t plan on changing the store name. Why would I do that?”
Tayler shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, I just saw that another business in town was handing out fliers all over the Old Market for a shop also called Wild Herbs, just like yours.”
Susan’s eyebrow made that visible twitch again. “What do you mean? Surely, Mr. Jankes who runs the rentals in the Old Market wouldn’t allow someone else to have the same name.”
“Oh, I don’t think they’re here in the market. That’s why I was confused about it. The address is in North Town. At first, I thought you were expanding, which seemed too fast since you just opened here, but I think it’s someone else. You know, another wildcrafter?”
Susan’s face took on a red hue and Bert could practically see the vein popping out on her neck. She was not a happy woman, hearing this news. “I know nothing of the sort. I’ll have to see who it is that’s opened this shop and have a chat with them,” she said through her teeth.
Almost as quickly as the anger had set in, it seemed to vanish just beneath the surface and Susan’s smile returned. “Well, shall we begin, ladies?”
Chapter 5
“You were certainly right about that Tayler woman. What a pest. I’m glad she was distracted asking Susan questions at the end of the class tonight so we could slip out without her following us,” Carla complained while she took a seat at one of Bert’s tables in the eating and reading nook of the shop—a place where customers could come in, eat a slice of pie, and enjoy a new book. She set her purse down on the seat next to her.
“You know, I feel bad about saying that she’s a pest,” Bert admitted as she went behind the counter and began to fill a kettle with water. “Tea?”
“Yes, please.”
“In any case, we need to be kind and charitable, just as Pastor Chimney said last week.”
“For how long?” Carla joked.
“She is probably lonely and needs a friend. That’s all.”
“And she’s picked you, it seems,” Carla noted, standing up and looking into the empty glass case where pies usually
sat on display. Most of the pie for the day had been sold, as it always was. Any leftovers were saved for the following day and sold at a discounted price. Either that or Bert and Carla snacked on it before saying good night.
“Looking for a slice?” Bert asked.
“Yeah. What do you have left?”
“Let’s see if there is anything,” she said, opening one of two industrial fridges. Having all the cooking and kitchen space out in the open for all the customers to see behind the counter sort of gave the place a homier feel, in Bert’s estimation. Almost like watching your grandmother cook up something. “We have some cherry, a bit of apple, and some dark chocolate left.” The dark chocolate pie was one of Bert’s favorites.
“I’ll have the chocolate,” Carla said, running along the same wavelengths.
Bert got out the tin and got out two pieces and placed them on plates just as the kettle began to whistle. She rushed over and poured the hot water over the two tea bags she had waiting in mugs. Usually, during business hours, she prepared loose leaf tea for the patrons. However, when she wasn’t at work, she liked a little bit of ease in her day. “I hope mint green tea is okay.”
“Sounds lovely.”
Bert brought the mugs over to the table while Carla carried the plates.
“Going back to our conversation,” Bert noted, sitting down beside her friend, “I’m going to try and be nice to Tayler and see if I can’t get her to mellow out a little.”
“She isn’t so bad, I guess.” Carla held the mug close to her mouth and blew on the hot liquid. “But what was up with that changing the name of the shop thing?”
Bert cut into her pie with the side of her fork. “My guess is that someone came up with the name at the same time without checking first and opened a shop.” She took the bite and savored the dark bitter-sweet flavors. The creamy mousse-like base mixed with the crumbly crust and crunchy hardened chocolate layer over the top.
“And how likely is that? A hundred to one?” Carla sipped the tea.
“My thoughts exactly. The more likely explanation is that someone else had a grudge or vendetta against her and decided to open a shop with the same name on the other side of town to create confusion.”
“Are you going to check it out?” Carla asked, knowing her friend all too well. Bert could never pass up a mystery, even something as simple as a duplicate shop name.
“Not quite yet. I’ll look it up online first, I think, just to make sure I didn’t mix things up.”
“Why not look it up right now?” Carla noted, wiggling her eyebrows up and down at her friend.
“Are you egging me on?”
“Hey, I love it when you get into mystery mode. It’s exciting.”
“Let’s just be glad it isn’t a robbery or murder this time,” Bert laughed, standing up to grab her purse off the counter. Bringing it over, she set it down on the table and dipped her hand in. “Hold on a sec. Where is it?”
“What?”
“My phone. It’s usually in this top pocket.”
“I’m sure it just fell to the bottom of your purse. That happens to me all the time.”
Bert dug her hand in deeper, feeling around the contents. So far, everything seemed to be in its place. The loose change was in the rubber oval coin purse, her reading glasses were in their cases, her wallet was on the right side—but no phone. “It isn’t here.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you left it upstairs in the apartment?”
“No, I remember packing it before I left in case Harry called.”
“Then where could it be?” Carla wondered out loud.
Bert’s jaw dropped, and she let out a low moan as she realized where it must be. “Oh, no. I think it must have fallen out when Tayler knocked my purse over with her chair.”
“That woman really is a pest,” Carla noted.
“I have to go back and see if Susan is still there to let me in.”
“Well, I guess I’ll head over to my own apartment then. Mind if I finish the tea and pie first?”
“No, go ahead. Just lock the door before you leave.”
“Got it,” she agreed.
Bert stepped out into the night and began speed walking toward the herb shop. She couldn’t believe she left her phone behind, and she couldn’t help feeling irritated at Tayler—even if she didn’t know it was her fault, for sure.
The walk only took about five minutes, but when she got there, the storefront was pitch dark. “Oh, no,” she groaned, leaning up against the glass and peering in. The chairs had all been taken down and put away. That meant that they’d probably found her phone and had it waiting for her.
At least, that was her hope. She didn’t know all the women in the class personally. What if one of them just decided to walk off with it? What if Tayler had knocked her purse over on purpose just to steal her phone, maybe even her wallet if the chance presented itself?
After all, the woman did seem a tad loose at the seams.
She wondered for a moment if Harry would be willing to use his detective skills to help find the culprit, despite it not being a homicide.
She shook her head, sure it wouldn’t come to that. No one took her phone, she decided. Susan likely had it, and it appeared that she’d headed home for the night. Bert was prepared to give up and head home for the night when she noticed a hint of light inside. From the back of the store, she could just make out a line of flickering low light coming from the back room.
So, someone was still inside.
Bert decided to try knocking on the back door. The shop was in the center of the strip of historic brick buildings, which meant Bert had to walk a full block down before coming back up the alleyway.
Arriving at the back door of the shop, she noticed the same light spilling out onto the concrete. She raised a fist and knocked. “Hello? Susan? Karen? Are either of you in there?” she called.
No one answered. Maybe it was only Karen and she was absorbed in paperwork.
Bert knew she shouldn’t try the door, but she was anxious to have her phone. She relied on it for her calendar, her alarm, and a whole slew of other things (not to mention the little Space Invaders game she had on it that she so loved playing.) Pushing on the knob, she was happy to find it open. That meant someone was there, for sure.
As the door swung open and Bert looked in the room, she felt her hands grow ice cold.
Laying on the floor of the small room that acted as an office and storage room together, was Susan Green. Her arms were splayed out and her head was cocked to one side. A small pink floral teacup lay on its side with liquid spilled out and soaking into the carpet.
Bert could already tell by the pale complexion and the blue lips that she was dead.
Chapter 6
“Hello? I just found my teacher in the back room of her shop on the floor, and she is very blue around the lips,” Bert said to the emergency dispatcher who’d picked up the nine-one-one call. Thankfully there was a corded office phone sitting on the desk next to the dim lamp.
“What is your location, ma’am?”
“Wild Herbs in the Old Market.”
“I know the place, yes. I am sending an ambulance as we speak.”
“Thank you,” Bert said. Not wanting to give up hope on Susan, and thinking that time was of the essence, she knelt to get a close look at the scene. After all, if Susan choked on something, perhaps she could get it out of the teacher’s windpipe and let her have some air.
“Was she eating or drinking anything?” the woman asked.
“It looks like she was drinking some tea.”
“It may be something obstructing the windpipe.”
“I’m already on it. I’ve had some minor emergency training myself. I was in a nursing course a number of years back.” That had been before she’d met her husband, and before she knew what she wanted to do with her life. When she’d married him, however, she’d stopped that coursework to support Howie in his carpet laying business. She also was able to dedicate mor
e time to community service and church functions she so enjoyed.
It had been a large burden off her shoulders, and a realization that nursing wasn’t for her when she’d dropped out. It took even longer to realize her passion for baking, passed down from her mother to her, was what she wanted to do with her life.
Still, in a situation like this one, most of that information she’d learned in the nursing courses remained with her. She’d used it on several occasions in a pinch, just like this. “Susan? Susan Green, can you hear me?” Bert called, trying to see if there was any response.
“Does she appear to have any neck or spinal injuries,” the emergency worker asked.
“I don’t believe so. It looks like she simply fell to the floor when she passed out.”
“Okay, can you check her airways?
“Doing it now,” Bert replied, gently turning the woman so she was more squarely on her back, tilting the head back slightly to help open the airway. It was somewhat difficult to see in the room since the only light came from an old-timey lantern on the desk. It was electric with one of those bulbs that flickered to simulate fire, but it was orange and the light didn’t reach the carpeted floor very well.
She didn’t want to step on the teacup or in the liquid. She knew the police would want to inspect the entire scene when they arrived. “Checking for breathing now,” Bert said, leaning her ear and cheek close to Susan’s open mouth.
There was no sensation of air movement and no sound either.
“She’s not breathing,” Bert said, placing two fingers firmly against the woman’s neck. Only the slightest hint of warmth remained, but there was no pulse. The sound of sirens in the distance drew Bert’s attention. “I can hear the ambulance.”
Knowing instinctively that it was too late, just as she’d known that Susan was already dead when she’d opened the door, Bert stood up. She’d held a tiny shred of hope to help her, but it was no use. She knew that, and she was pretty sure the dispatcher on the phone knew that as well. “What happened?” Bert wondered out loud as the sirens grew louder, practically on the street out front now.
Tea, Thyme, an Murder (Pies and Pages Cozy Mysteries Book 13) Page 3