“So, you weren’t here last night, then?”
The sheriff was looking at her with the same calm expression, but Willow suddenly felt the ground tip out from under here. Not a quick escape, then.
“I walked past yesterday evening with Harmony. We were getting some light exercise since the night was so mild.”
Sheriff Wender nodded, looking down at a pad on the desk in front of him. Even if it had been at an angle that encouraged viewing, Willow wouldn’t have been able to make out a word. Between her need for reading glasses and his scrawled handwriting, the notes may as well have been written in Swahili.
“What time did you arrive here, this morning?”
Willow looked down at her hand, expecting to see a watch there, then remembered that she’d taken it off. It hadn’t helped her nerves any, glancing down at it every five seconds, so now it sat on the kitchen bench where it would stay until she opened the shop doors for the first time.
“I can’t say exactly. I was due to open the tea room at nine o’clock and expected my waitresses to arrive a bit before that. It took a while to realize they weren’t coming, so maybe just before nine?”
The sheriff made a note and Willow relaxed her shoulders.
“If it’s okay, I’d love to head back there now. I left Harmony on her own.”
“Not just yet.” Sheriff Wender continued to look at his notes until Willow shifted in her chair, wondering what on Earth he could have written there. “Do you know Gary Riley?”
Willow frowned as she nodded. “I met him last night, on the front desk. Why? Is he involved in Mr. Meiser’s death?”
“How about you leave the questions to me?” Sheriff Wender stared at Willow who couldn’t stop from wringing her hands together in her lap. He had a different set to his face than usual. Something had gone wrong.
“How could you meet Mr. Riley in the hotel if you were just walking by it last night? Is there something you’d like to add to your story?”
“Somebody threw a stone at us out of an upstairs window. We popped into the lobby to complain.”
The sheriff leaned forward, staring into Willow’s face. “Who dropped a stone on you?”
“I don’t know.” Her hands clenched together so hard now they were hurting. “Neither Harmony nor I looked up soon enough to spot them. The only way I knew someone was there was because they giggled. That’s when I knew they’d dropped the spoon down on purpose.”
“I thought you said it was a stone?”
Willow nodded, swallowing now seemed a task outside the realm of her ability. She just wanted to answer his questions honestly, then get back home. Why was she mucking this up so badly? What was wrong with her?
“When we passed by the first time, a stone fell down. When we came back, it was a spoon. We came inside to complain and spoke to Mr. Riley. He said no guests were staying upstairs and we couldn’t go up there to look by ourselves.”
The sheriff continued to gaze at Willow for a minute after she stopped talking. She scanned her memory for further details, eager to fill the silence.
“Oh. We also heard Lyndon quitting his job.”
“What’s that?” Sheriff Wender frowned, flicking his notepad to a new page. “He’s the janitor you were performing next to on the table out there, right?”
“Not performing,” Willow blurted. “We were just telling people that my tea room is open down the street.” When the sheriff continued to stare at her, she added, “If they wanted some refreshment, after.”
“How long have you known Mr. Barrymore?”
Willow rubbed her eyebrow, wishing she had Mavis sitting in her lap to calm her. “I don’t think I know anybody of that name.”
“Lyndon Barrymore. The janitor.”
“Oh. I met him for the first time, last night.” Willow pursed her lips for a second. “Well, not really. I only heard him and the manager yelling at each other. We introduced ourselves outside, just before you asked us to come in here.”
“You seem very involved in this hotel for someone who only dropped by this morning to see what was happening.”
“I’m not involved. All that happened was me talking to the doorman and overhearing a heated conversation. I’d hardly call that involved.” Willow felt her indignation rise, a welcome relief from her earlier anxiety. “Not to mention, if you hadn’t shut down the entire intersection, I wouldn’t have been here at all. Do you know when it’s going to open again?”
“It’ll be open once I’m assured we’ve collected all the relevant evidence from the area and not a minute earlier.”
“Well, how long will that take? I’ve got a business to run. You’re keeping my customers away.”
Willow swallowed around a gigantic lump in her throat. Considering the shade of the sheriff’s face, she might have gone a step too far.
“I don’t answer to you, in these matters, Miss Foxglove. My concern is with the victim of the crime and his family. If it causes you a modicum of inconvenience for a few hours, so be it.”
“I’m sorry.” Willow sat back in her chair, face flushing as she remembered that the poor man who’d died must have a family. “I didn’t mean to be testy. It’s my opening day, and my nerves are strung rather thin.”
“Well, you can get back to your friends out in the lobby for the time being,” Sheriff Wender said, standing. “I’d like you to stay around, though, in case I need another word.”
“I must call Harmony, then,” Willow insisted, pulling her phone out. “She’s all alone in the tea room without the slightest idea of what’s happening.”
To her relief, the sheriff nodded in agreement. “Go ahead.” Then, when Willow turned to head outside, added, “You can do it here.”
After Willow paused for a second, neither of them moving, she realized he meant to stay for the duration of the conversation. She sighed and dialed the number.
“Willow’s tea rooms,” came the cheery greeting and Willow felt that rush of pride flood through her chest again.
“That was lovely,” she said with a small giggle. “If you keep that up, I must hire you on full-time.”
“What’s going on? Nobody has turned up.”
“The intersection is still on lock-down,” Willow said, swiveling her shoulder to afford herself a smidgeon of privacy. “And anyone within shouting distance of the hotel is being held here until the sheriff has finished interviewing everyone.”
“What?” It sounded like Harmony was gasping for breath for a moment, then she came back on the line. “Sheriff Wender can’t do that. You should demand your release unless he has grounds to charge you.”
Willow looked over to the office, wondering how that would play out. She was still desperate to get back to her tea room, no matter they were sitting empty. However, if she insisted on leaving before the sheriff wanted, then he might turn up at her place of business, unannounced, in the future. With Willow’s current luck, that would happen right when the most customers were in attendance and set a multitude of tongues wagging.
Reputation was everything in a town as small as Aniseed Valley. “Maybe next time,” Willow said. “Are you okay to hold the fort down there alone?”
“For the moment.” Harmony gave a short giggle. “I won’t be alone for too long. I talked to Reg earlier, and he’s so indignant about your ruined opening day he’s organizing a float to bring people over the river.”
“Really?” Willow couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of Reg turning into a ferryman. “Well, you call me if he gets it up and running. I don’t mind you sitting alone while business is nonexistent but if you get customers in, I want to be there.”
“If Sheriff Wender lets you go, you mean,” Harmony teased her.
“I’m sure I could work something out.” Willow felt much better as she disconnected the call and turned back to the sheriff. “All done. Should I go back out and wait where I was, or are you starting a new group for those of us already interrogated?”
“Hardly an
interrogation.” Sheriff Wender looked out at the hotel lobby, full of restless folks waiting with different degrees of patience. “You can go and stand over where you were if that suits. Send in Hilary while you’re at it. I’d like to speak with her next.”
Willow walked out the door, wiping her arm across her brow in mock relief as she returned to her small group. “You’re up next,” she announced to Hilary. “Best of luck.”
“Aren’t you heading on your way?” Lyndon asked as Willow retook her place, leaning against the wall. “I thought you couldn’t wait to get back.”
“My friend’s got things under control for the moment, and the sheriff told me to stick around in case he wanted to talk to me again.”
“You weren’t even here!”
“Apparently, I turned up in time for all the juicy bits.” Willow shook her head and looked out the window. The day had turned out glorious—a complete waste to spend it hanging about indoors. Not as much of a waste as poor Mr. Meiser’s day.
“I don’t know what my wife will think about this whole mess.” Lyndon sighed. “I guess I should’ve asked for payment last night, but it was the last thing on my mind.”
“You seemed dead set on getting out of the place,” Willow agreed, thinking back to the incident. “I felt a bit nervous when you came striding up to the desk to slam down your nametag.”
“Sorry about that.” Lyndon’s face blushed red with shame. “I got carried away in the office. The badge didn’t even matter, it’s not like they can hand it onto the next guy to use.”
“Did you get the chance to talk to Mr. Meiser about your back pay before…” Willow waved her hand as she broke off talking, not wanting to continue with the words that should follow on.
Lyndon shook his head. “Not a chance. I’d just walked into the lobby when he went flying down outside, and then the glass smashed above my head.” He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in clumps. “I would’ve paid good money to avoid hearing the sound when he landed.”
Willow could sympathize, having a few too many visions lately that she’d sooner have avoided. “What time was that?”
“About twenty minutes before you arrived, give or take. Nobody knew what to do except call the sheriff’s office. When they all turned, we hung around waiting for someone to tell us what to do next.”
And Willow had walked straight into the middle of that. What terrible timing. If only Harmony had gone in her stead, she’d be at home right now. Pacing up and down, wondering what was happening and going frantic because nobody had shown up.
“What were you talking to Gary about last night, anyway?” Lyndon asked, turning and scanning the room.
If he was trying to locate Mr. Riley, Willow could have saved him the bother. The man wasn’t among the guests waiting in the lobby. Given how tired he’d been manning the reception desk the night before, she hoped that meant he’d gone home to rest before the incident occurred.
“My friend and I were walking outside when somebody dropped things on our heads.” At the shocked expression on Lyndon’s face, Willow hastened to add, “Nothing big, just a stone and then a teaspoon. We thought someone should address it before the whole game escalated though. Not that anybody was staying up there, apparently.”
Lyndon jerked her head in the other direction, breaking his gaze. “That sounds dreadful. I’ve heard of that happening on the bridge over the main road out of Aniseed Valley, but never from the hotel.”
“Have you?” Willow frowned as she tried to sift through all the village gossip she’d kept in her mind for the past couple of years. Nope. Nothing about kids throwing stuff off the overpass. If anyone told her, it must have gone in one ear and out the other. “Do you know who did that?”
“The road?” Lyndon tilted his head to one side, biting on the inside of his cheek. “I guess I heard it was kids, so that doesn’t narrow it down.” There was a croak in the man’s voice, and he turned her head to glance at the opposite wall again. “Maybe the Glasner boy?”
Willow nodded. Barrett Glasner was a good pick even if he wasn’t the culprit. He’d been a tearaway at the school back when Reg was still in the role of the groundskeeper. Since then, the school had expelled him and tasked his overworked mother with the added job of home schooling. From what Reg told her occasionally, instead of learning anything, the boy had just run wild.
“I hope he wasn’t fooling around in the hotel. I don’t think his mother could take another shock.”
“Hm. Rachel seems like a nice woman, I guess,” Lyndon agreed. “She works at the laundry that has the contract with the Bonaventure, so I used to see her in here picking up the vanloads of washing, sometimes.”
“So, he could’ve caught a ride along with her?” Willow frowned, wondering if that explained how the boy could have been upstairs.
If it had been Barrett Glasner at all. It’s not like you saw anybody. Jumping to conclusions wouldn’t help anybody. Still, if she saw Gary Riley out and about, Willow might ask him if he’d ever caught the culprits.
Meanwhile, Lyndon was shrugging. “I don’t know if he’d do that. He seems like a kid who’d be averse to riding along while his mother was hard at work. It might rub off on him, or something.”
Hilary came out of the office, wiping away the tears that had been flowing down her face. Willow wished that she’d had the good sense to bring her bag when she went flying out of the house, then she could have offered tissues. As it was, she looked about but couldn’t see any visible source to help with the woman’s tears.
“It’s your turn,” Hilary said to Lyndon, sniffing. She leaned forward, whispering, “I think he’s gunning for you, so make sure you watch your back.”
A shiver ran up Willow’s spine as she watched Lyndon walk across the lobby, his shoulders even more hunched than usual. The keen grin on Sheriff Wender’s face as he let him inside backed Hilary’s warning up to the hilt.
Chapter Five
“Why does the sheriff want you to stick around?” Hilary asked, though Willow had already told the woman once.
“Just in case he wants to ask me more questions. I was around here last night, speaking with Gary Riley and overheard Lyndon quitting.” Willow shrugged, she really didn’t have any more idea than Hilary why he’d made the request. “At least, I guess that’s why.”
“The sooner this whole business is over with, the better. All I want is to get my work done, then head back home to put my feet up. I don’t know what the sheriff is thinking, keeping us all waiting about down here in the lobby when I could be getting things done upstairs.”
She sounded aggrieved, but Willow didn’t want to press harder to find out if there was a specific reason. The events of the morning were taking a toll. The panic of the early morning followed by the run down here, then another anxious wait—a nap in the sun wouldn’t go amiss.
That reminded her of Mavis again, and Willow wondered if she should put in another call to Harmony to check on her kitten. She shot a glance toward the deputies on the front desk and decided against it. The two men were looking as frazzled as Willow’s nerves.
The pathologist walked in through the entrance door and stopped, staring at the people gathered around. When he saw the sheriff through the office window, his face lit up, and he knocked on the door.
Lyndon appeared relieved as Sheriff Wender ejected him from the room so he and the doctor could talk. The janitor’s hair stuck out at all angles, and as he crossed the lobby back to Willow and Hilary, he ran his hand through it again, sending the clumps off in new directions.
“I wish I could be a fly on the wall for that conversation,” Willow said, jerking her head toward the office in a feeble attempt at distraction. Given her natural level of queasiness, it was probably better she stayed outside but at the words, Hilary’s eyes sparkled, and a smile danced at the corner of her lips.
“That’s something I can help with.” She looked over at the desk where the deputies were now ignoring their in
terviewees in favor of peering at the sheriff and his guest. “Walk naturally, and if anyone asks, we’re going to the bathroom.”
“All of us?” Lyndon asked a gleam of mischief lighting up his face.
“Or just don’t look suspicious, so no one asks to begin with,” Willow said, fighting to stop her eyes drifting to look at the deputies. She walked in sync with Hilary, her heartbeat thumping a little quicker with each step.
The officers either didn’t notice them or weren’t bothered enough to ask them to stop and the trio soon made it around the side of the front desk and down a corridor.
“In here,” Hilary said, opening a door and gesturing them through. “It’s a jump to get up on the bench, but if you put your ear up against the wall, you’ll catch most of the conversation in the next room.”
The room appeared to be a cleaner’s closet, stuffed to the brim with bottles, buckets, mops, and towels. The bench that Hilary was pointing to sat atop a set of large cubby holes, each stuffed with a different cleaning liquid, the bright reds and yellows a warning of their chemical strength.
Willow stared at the counter, torn between curiosity and decorum. Like any good cat, curiosity won in a heartbeat, and she levered herself up to sit atop the cabinets, wriggling to get closer to the wall.
Whatever strange phenomenon of architecture was operating in the closet, as soon as Willow placed her ear flush against the wall, the conversation in the room opposite came through as bright as a bell.
“I’ve listened to a good many conversations about staffing I shouldn’t have been privy to,” Hilary said with a wicked grin. “All the cleaners have discovered this secret at one time or another.” She held a finger up to her lips. “Just don’t tell management, okay?”
A second later, Hilary’s face flooded with color as she apparently recalled that talking to management wasn’t a choice at the moment. Willow patted her shoulder, angling her body to relieve the strain on her complaining hip.
“The victim died from a head wound,” the pathologist said, halting for a short moment between each word.
Tea Shop Cozy Mysteries - Books 1-6 Page 20