“I hope he finds whoever did that,” Harmony said. She pinched her face into a worried look that lasted all the way back to Willow’s front door. “It would be terrible if those pranksters hurt somebody rather than just giving people a scare.”
Willow gave one last look down the street, though the bend in the road shielded the Bonaventure Hotel from view. “I hope so, too.”
It was with a touch of sadness she walked back inside the house, her momentary concern about their experience being swamped by the weight of worry about her business opening tomorrow.
Back to the grindstone.
Chapter Three
“They should be here by now.” Willow held the lace curtain aside to confirm that nobody was walking up the street toward her house, then twitched it back into place. She let go of the netting in favor of wringing her hands together instead.
“Your staff might not be as excited about the opening day as you.” As usual, Harmony’s reassurance lent an air of calm to Willow’s worry. “How early did you ask them to turn up, anyway? It’s not even opening time yet.”
“Quarter of an hour. I thought that should be enough to check their uniforms and run them through the till system one more time, to make sure they remembered it.”
Willow had also expected the planned run-through to refresh her memory of the computer system. Although she’d been involved in it from the get-go, details of the exact sequence of button pressing needed to get the right result had a disturbing habit of slipping from her mind just when she needed them.
Picking the items ordered and connecting it to the tracker that patrons would set on their tables was fine. It was when somebody changed their mind and wanted to switch up their order that things got dicey. Willow’s fondest hope was that everybody would be in a good mood since it was her opening day. A week of practice and she felt sure that all the tips and tricks would stick more firmly.
“It’s just a few minutes past due time, then,” Harmony said, pulling Willow away from the front window. “Why don’t you have a cup of tea to settle your nerves?”
“Anything I take now will just amp me up.” Willow paced through into the tearooms, checking once again the room was how she wanted it laid out. When she walked back through to her friend, another minute had passed on the clock. Still no employees.
“I’m sure that Wendy can’t be far away.” This time it was Harmony that flicked the net curtain away from the window to check. Willow’s anxiety must be contagious. “That girl has a good head on her shoulders, never mind she’s so young. Tiffany will probably be caught up in some child drama. It can’t be easy getting all three off to school on time when she’s doing everything by herself.”
“Maybe I should call her, just to confirm?” Willow felt annoyed that she was so indecisive. Another time, she would have decided on the action required and taken it in a second flat—even if it was the wrong thing. Now, the myriad of choices of what to do was overwhelming, so she did nothing instead.
“There’s nobody out there at all.”
The concerned note in Harmony’s voice had Willow hurrying back to the window to see. Her friend was right. No potential customers were dropping by early, no children racing past on their bicycles in a mad rush to not be late to school. Not even so much as a man out walking his dog.
“Do you think nobody will come at all?” Willow’s chest squeezed tight, her breath coming in short pants. “I’ll open the shop, and it’ll be such a disaster that not even the staff will bother to show?”
With that horror top of her mind, Willow jumped a foot when the phone rang. She hurried across, taking a second before answering to compose her voice in case it was a customer inquiry.
“Willow’s tea rooms, Willow speaking.”
“Oh, Miss Foxglove, I’m so glad I caught you. It’s Wendy.”
Willow shot a frazzled glance at Harmony who rushed across to stand by her in support. “Are you running late, dear?”
“I can’t get there!”
The receiver jerked in Willow’s hand as a rush of panic shot through her. Harmony was right, Wendy usually had a level head. This morning, she sounded just as on-edge as Willow.
“What do you mean? Are you sick?”
“No. I mean, I physically can’t get through to you. The sheriff’s office has blocked off the road at the intersection. I’ve tried on foot and by car, and they’re not letting me through either way.”
“The road’s closed?” Willow felt the twin rush of relief that it wasn’t her terrible business idea causing the impasse and a jolt of frustration that something was impeding her business’s grand opening.
Willow saw Harmony flicking her hands, wanting to know what was going on. “Did the sheriff’s office say why they’d closed the road?” she asked in a clear voice. Her friend’s mouth dropped open.
“They wouldn’t tell me anything.” Wendy’s voice scaled up the register, apparently fueled by the same frustration gripping Willow. “Sheriff Wender just told me to get home and phone you when I insisted he had to let me through. That’s why I’m calling now.”
“Well, thanks for letting me know, Wendy. I’ll get down there and see what’s happening for myself. Hopefully, it will all resolve itself soon.”
She’d only just put down the phone, when Tiffany called through, in just as much of a panicked state. Willow reassured her she’d find out what was going on, and also that no one’s wages would be docked for something outside of their control.
When she finished up the second call, Willow grabbed her jacket off the coat rack. “Are you coming?”
Harmony shook her head. “I’ll stay here in case any customers do manage to make it through.”
Willow closed her eyes for a second in relief. Harmony’s clear-thinking was a blessing at a time like this.
“Thank you. That’s a great idea. If anybody can get here, then make sure you upsell them to the scones with cream and jam.”
Harmony burst out laughing as Willow raced out the door.
* * *
Willow jogged down the road, ignoring the protest from her muscles. They would recover with a rest or maybe a bath of Epsom Salts. Her panicked nervous system wouldn’t have a reprieve until she found out what on Earth was happening.
Clusters of people were hanging around outside the Bonaventure Hotel. Bright yellow police tape blocked off the intersection to traffic from all sides. Willow slowed down just enough to confirm the sheriff and his deputies were looking another way, then raced over to join the nearest group.
“What’s happening?”
A woman turned and offered Willow an uncertain smile. She waved a hand toward where the deputies crowded close together. “A man fell from a hotel room. Sheriff Wender thinks someone might’ve pushed him.”
Willow took a step back in shock. Possibilities had crowded into her head, but that wasn’t a thought that entered her equation. Car crashes were foremost in her mind.
The woman looked down at the ground again, sighing. She wore a maid’s outfit with a badge stating her name was Hilary. Willow vaguely remembered her from a church fete they’d both taken part in a few years earlier. Hilary Marton.
“Do you know who it is?”
Hilary glanced up again, her face wrinkled in worry, while a man to her side said, “It was the manager, Aaron Meiser.” Willow gave a start as she recognized him from the night before. Lyndon, the janitor who’d loudly quit.
“How awful.” Willow glanced nervously at the circle of deputies, then wrenched her eyes away. She didn’t want to see the body they were shielding. Definitely not. The past six months had provided her imagination with more than enough fodder to keep her up nights. Another horrific memory would leave her an insomniac for sure.
“I wonder how a grown man fell out of a window. Did he trip over something and land at a bad angle, do you think?”
“I think the sheriff has the right idea,” Lyndon muttered, “in thinking someone pushed him. The manager had no lack of
enemies who’d be willing to give him a shove.”
Willow took an uneasy step back. Between his shouting yesterday when Lyndon appeared to have quit his job, and his latest assertion, she didn’t feel safe standing so near.
“I’m sure it will turn out to be an accident.” Willow couldn’t stop her glance moving back to the circle of deputies despite her stern internal admonishment to the contrary. “I can’t imagine anyone being so mean as to push a man out his own hotel window.”
“I can.” Hilary gave Lyndon a nod of agreement. “Our boss was a disliked man for good reason.”
Before Willow could ask what reasons those were, the deputies moved. She hastily shifted her glance away but not before she saw a pair of legs akimbo. As the pathologist for the county office moved into their stead, the officers herded the various groups together.
“We need you all to head back inside the hotel,” Sheriff Wender said, taking charge. “Either I or my deputies will want to speak to everyone. For the time being, until we can get things sorted, we’ll stay in the lobby.”
“Oh,” Willow said, stepping back as a deputy headed for their cluster. “I wasn’t here at the time. I just popped down this morning to see why the intersection was closed.”
“The boss said everybody,” the deputy replied, his face impassive. “And that means you, too.”
Although Willow mounted another protest, it fell upon deaf ears, and she was soon standing in the corner of the lobby, thinking she’d made a terrible mistake. If the road opened now, letting her customers and staff through, it would leave poor Harmony alone to deal with everything. She pulled her phone out, intending to give her friend a call.
The sheriff put a quick stop to that. “No phones. I don’t want anybody communicating with anyone else until I’ve interviewed you all separately.”
Sheriff Wender gave Willow a stern glance until she pushed her phone back into a pocket, crossing her arms and glaring back. “I’m trying to open a business this morning.”
At that, the sheriff offered her a grin. “Don’t I know it. There’s a flyer stuck up on every lamppost around the station telling me so. I hope that Reg had a permit to stick all of those up.”
Willow’s face softened as she thought of how much help her friends had been. Even if the opening day had turned into a nightmare, she still had a lot to be grateful for.
“I’ll start interviews in the manager’s office, and my deputies will set up behind the front desk. If everyone cooperates, I’m sure we can process you all quickly and get you back to normal.”
“This is outrageous,” a woman—probably a guest Willow judged from her upmarket clothing—said with a defiant tone of voice. “We’ve done nothing wrong, so we shouldn’t be held here, like criminals.”
“Why don’t we interview you first,” the sheriff said, apparently unimpressed by her protest. “Then you can be on your way.”
“I’ll certainly be moving to another hotel,” the woman said, grabbing the man who must be her husband and dragging him alongside. “I can’t believe the amount they charged us for this rigmarole.”
After she’d disappeared into the office, Hilary rolled her eyes at Willow. “As though our boss got himself killed just to upset that woman’s day.”
Willow would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so dire. “I hope this doesn’t take too long. I left my friend in charge back at my business.”
“There’s only twenty or so,” Lyndon said, leaning against the wall. “Even if the sheriff goes super slow, he should finish up some time this morning.”
“Besides,” Hilary added, “it’s not as though anybody can get through to your house. They’ve still got the road blocked outside.”
Willow nodded, leaning back next to Lyndon and wishing very much that she had access to a chair. Her leg muscles were twitching from the run earlier. “Do you really think somebody killed him?”
Lyndon nodded while Hilary shrugged. “I can’t see him being clumsy enough to fall out by himself, but it still could’ve been an accident.”
Lyndon sniggered. “You mean, somebody finally gave him the shove he deserved, and the man had the gall to topple through a window after they’d done it.”
Hilary gave a small chuckle, then bit her lip as some distraught faces turned her way. “Something like that.”
“Did he definitely fall?” Willow was thinking of an early episode of Miss Walsham Investigates where the killer had placed a murder victim beneath a cliff face. In that storyline, a car killed the man but his dead body appeared like he’d slipped and fallen.
“Broken glass and rose petals were everywhere,” Lyndon said. “He must’ve crashed through the vase and the window behind it. I can’t see any accidental stumble doing that.”
With her theory dashed, Willow concentrated on the interview. The woman was gesticulating wildly, at one point accidentally striking her husband when she became too enthusiastic.
“I’d be glad if she moves on,” Hilary said, following Willow’s gaze. “You should’ve seen the state she left her bathroom this morning.”
“Not in front of—” Lyndon jerked his head toward Willow. “You know we’re only allowed to complain about work when we’re out of earshot of the customers.”
Willow laughed. “I’m not a customer.”
“You’re a fine one to lecture me, anyhow,” Hilary said with a snort. “After the scene you caused here last night? I heard all about that the minute I walked in through the door this morning.”
“Well, I had my reasons.”
“What are you doing here today?” Willow asked. When Lyndon turned to her with raised eyebrows, she blushed and explained, “I was in the hotel yesterday and heard you resign.”
That earned her another snort, this time from Lyndon. “Resign, eh? That’s the polite thing to call it. I quit. I came by this morning because my wife is furious with me. She told me to get in here and pick up my last check or not to bother coming home tonight.”
“I love it if I could afford to quit.” Hilary sighed and looked down at her hands, the rough and cracked skin betraying her role as a cleaner. “It’s times like this I wish I’d followed my mother’s advice and stayed in school.”
“Didn’t do Gary any good,” Lyndon said. “He went to a good college, and he’s still stuck here, on minimum wage.”
“Working behind the desk is still better than scrubbing floors.” Hilary folded her arms across her chest. “Even if it pays out the same rate.”
“What other work are you looking for?” Willow quickly ran through her calculations for her business, giving up when she got halfway. Numbers and her memory weren’t well-suited to each other. “I might have a job opening for a waitress, depending on how the first month goes.”
“That would be great if you’re serious.”
“Of course, I’m serious.” Willow studied the woman’s face, guessing her age to be about ten years shy of her own. “It would be nice to have someone working beside me, closer to my age.”
Wendy was in her twenties, and Tiffany was mid-thirties. No matter how Willow sized it up, standing beside them, she always felt old.
“I’ll give you my number,” Hilary said, reaching into her pocket for a phone, then stopping when the deputy behind the desk gave her a hard stare. “Later. Or better still, I’ll drop in a resume.”
“It’s a deal.”
Willow looked around the lobby at the mix of bored and worried faces. “It’s a pity that the sheriff won’t let me pop back home. I could rustle up a good spread and bring it back here to keep everyone in good spirits.”
Lyndon looked at Willow with a strange expression she couldn’t fathom. A second later, he jumped up on top of the desk beside them, careful to avoid knocking the tourist information pamphlets to the floor.
“Listen up, people. There’s a great new tea room that’s opened down the road this morning. Once you’re through here, why not give it a visit? It’s on this side of the cordon, so you’l
l be able to reach it, unlike town.”
He gestured down at Willow, then grabbed ahold of her hand and lifted her up beside him. She blushed as the room fixed its gaze on her. “That’s right. We’ve got an opening day special of scones and jam today, along with Aniseed Valley’s widest range of home-grown herbal teas.”
Although the deputies behind the desk didn’t take action, when Willow saw Sheriff Wender opening the office door she jumped down to the floor before she got into trouble. Although he gave her a sidelong glance, no reprimands followed, and she gave a sigh of relief.
“Hopefully, that drums up business.” Lyndon appeared pleased with himself as he also clambered down. “Now, you just need to get yourself interviewed first and out. Otherwise, there’ll be no one to serve.”
“Oh, no.” Willow put a hand to cover her mouth as she thought of Harmony coping with an influx. Then she remembered how calm her friend was—as opposed to her own set of nerves—and decided that it wouldn’t be a complete disaster. Besides, twenty people would only fill up half the tea room.
“Willow Foxglove,” Sheriff Wender called out. “Since it seems you have somewhere urgent to be, why don’t you come into my office next?”
Willow pulled a quick face at Lyndon and Hilary before following along behind, feeling like the principal had called her into his office.
Chapter Four
“Take a seat.”
Willow obliged, reading the sheriff’s face to see how the next few minutes would go. To her relief, Sheriff Wender seemed calm. A different story to the turmoil now fighting it out inside her stomach.
“What are you doing at the hotel this morning?”
Willow leaned forward, eager to explain and get dismissed back to her fledgling business. “I came down to see why you’d blocked the intersection. My tea room is opening today, and I received calls from my employees to say they couldn’t get through.”
Willow liked how the word ‘employees’ sounded in her mouth. It filled her with pride to speak in such terms when a year before she never would have dreamed such a thing was possible.
Tea Shop Cozy Mysteries - Books 1-6 Page 19