If Willow closed her eyes, she could picture him sitting cross-legged as she’d seen him on earlier occasions. The word she thought summed him up best was fussy. Probably a plus, given his line of work.
“How did he manage to fall head-first out the window?” Sheriff Wender sounded cross as though the man had died just to ruin his day.
“He didn’t.”
The next words were from the sheriff, but Hilary’s gasp muffled them. Then the pathologist’s voice sounded again with clarity.
“I won’t guess at the precise circumstances, but rose petals and glass were strewn about the deceased’s person. If he’d fallen out of the window, smashing it as he did so, then some of that debris would have ended up beneath him. Instead, the sidewalk was clear.”
“But, that makes little sense.” The sheriff’s indignation was clear. “I’ve had multiple witnesses say they heard the glass break at the same time that the man fell onto the street. If he didn’t fall, then somebody must have pushed him out.”
“Or someone killed him on the sidewalk, and your perpetrator broke a window with the vase of roses to make it appear that he fell.”
Willow gasped and jerked her ear back from the wall, her heartbeat fluttering high in her neck. “Those boys,” she whispered, then stuttered to a halt as the full ramifications of what the pathologist was saying struck home.
“What boys?” Hilary asked, also moving away and jumping down from the bench. She turned and held a hand out to guide Willow down safely while Lyndon followed on his own accord.
“Somebody was fooling about yesterday in the upper stories,” Lyndon said when Willow struggled to find her voice. “They dropped a few items down on Willow and her friend when they were out walking. If the same thing happened this morning, but with more serious consequences—” He broke off and shrugged, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid.
“I thought you said you saw Mr. Meiser go flying out the window,” Hilary protested. “That doesn’t fit at all with what they were saying in there.”
“I might not have seen him.” Lyndon stroked his chin with a hand that shook slightly. “I certainly heard the breaking glass and a thump, and I assumed, once I saw the boss lying outside on the pavement he’d gone tumbling down, but I could have been mistaken. Perhaps all I saw was the vase falling, and the impact was that landing on his body?”
“If that’s the case, then it could easily have been a prank that went horribly wrong,” Willow said, recovering her voice. “I was worried and upset by the falling objects last night, but a teaspoon would never do a lot of damage. If they hefted out a vase or something even heavier, then I understand perfectly how that could kill.”
“You told the sheriff what happened, didn’t you?” Hilary asked her. When Willow nodded, she continued, “Then it’s really up to him to put it together. We should leave well enough alone.”
Lyndon seemed more hesitant. “Don’t you think it might be worth another reminder. He’s talked to a couple of dozen people today, perhaps it’s appropriate that we highlight this particular detail in case he’s lost track of it.”
“Not our job,” Hilary said, opening the door to the cleaning cupboard and ushering them out. “Don’t make me regret letting you in there, either. It’s not as though you can tell the sheriff what you overheard, so it’d just appear suspicious if you insisted he pay attention to one or two pertinent facts.”
“They can’t arrest us for overhearing,” Lyndon protested.
“No, but they could hold you down at the station for a couple of hours until everyone in town is gossiping about how you did it. Then how do you think your job search would go?”
Willow cast a curious glance at Hilary, but the woman showed no other outward signs of aggression. She probably didn’t realize how sharp her tone was coming across, or how bullying the phrases sounded. Everyone was on edge at the moment, and with good reason. It would be no wonder if every person in the lobby were snippy.
“If he calls me into the office for another grilling, then I’ll ensure I emphasize the situation from last night.” Willow offered Lyndon a friendly pat on his shoulder while keeping eye contact with Hilary to make sure she didn’t find offense. “Other than that, Hilary’s right and I’ve already told Sheriff Wender everything he needs to know.”
“I’ve just realized,” Lyndon said, coming to a halt halfway across the lobby. “If what the pathologist says is true, then that rules out accidental causes.”
Willow nodded. “I suppose you’re right.” She shivered despite the heat in the building. “That means that at the least, they’re looking at manslaughter, maybe murder.”
Hilary turned pale, and her hands wrung together at waist height. “It doesn’t bear thinking about.” She stamped her foot. “Why won’t they let us go on with our day and try to wipe this terrible thing out of our minds?”
Instead, the only thing they could do was retrace their steps back into their earlier position and keep a close eye on everyone else gathered in the lobby.
Chapter Six
“Why were you quitting?” Willow asked Lyndon after they’d stood next to each other in silence for a good ten minutes. Her attention span was being sorely tested what with worrying about her tea rooms and Mavis.
Even if Harmony was looking out for everything—and Willow would trust that woman with her life—it was still not the same as being there. Besides which, silence didn’t come naturally to Willow, a trait that grew worse with each passing year.
“It was to do with the money,” Lyndon said, shifting from one foot to another. Hilary passed a quick glance his way, then went back to staring fixedly at the tiles on the floor.
“The manager wasn’t paying you enough?” Willow had already heard as much from the two employees but saying the words were a comfort to her restlessness even if it didn’t advance the conversation much.
To her surprise, Lyndon didn’t agree. “It wasn’t that, so much as I found out something about the earnings that my boss had been making from the hotel, and it rubbed me up the wrong way.”
Hilary jerked her attention away from the floor to offer a frown his way. “What do you mean? What earnings? I thought this place was pretty much skint.”
“Yeah. That’s what Aaron told everyone who’d listen,” Lyndon agreed. He fidgeted, flicking his thumbnail against his forefinger so it made a tiny snap. “I overheard his ex’s accountant giving him a talking to about hidden funds.”
“Really?” Hilary turned and faced Lyndon, putting her hands on her hips in exasperation. “I thought Mrs. Meiser already stripped him clean.”
“I think she thought so too,” Lyndon agreed, an unhappy expression still on his face. “But from what I heard last night, it wasn’t the case at all. She had a whatchamacallit?” He tapped the side of his head—a gesture that just left Willow more puzzled as to what he could mean.
Hilary paused for a moment, then suggested the same employee that Lyndon had mentioned earlier. “An accountant?”
“Yeah, he was an accountant but a special kind. They have them in companies when they think something criminal’s going on. You know.”
It seemed plain to Willow that neither she nor Hilary knew, but Lyndon continued to stare into their faces as though he’d see the answer written there.
“Forensic!” he exclaimed after a long pause. His expression was so delighted that Willow left him alone for a minute before having to ask a follow-up question.
“Forensic what? Like a DNA swab or something?”
“No. A forensic accountant. They go through the books of dodgy companies searching for where the bosses have hidden all the funds or transferred their assets offshore.”
“And the boss’s missus hired one?” Hilary stared at him with a doubtful expression coating her face. “Wouldn’t that cost more than she’d ever hope to find?”
“Apparently not.” Lyndon hummed to himself for a second, still appearing pleased to have thought of the correct title. “From th
e raised voices in the office, it seemed like he’d found a boatload of money stored all over the place.”
“You’re saying Mr. Meiser is rich?” Hilary looked more hacked off than puzzled. “He’s been giving us a sob story for years about how the hotel only keeps going by the skin of its teeth, and you’re saying he’s been siphoning money off the top to keep for himself?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“The last three years, I’ve asked for a raise and Mr. Meiser told me that any wage increase would put the whole operation on the bubble for closure. I can’t believe he just lied like that.” Hilary stopped her tirade for a second, then shook her head. “Actually, I can.”
“If you think you’re upset, imagine his poor ex-wife,” Lyndon said. “I’m pretty sure half the reason she and the accountant were so upset was that they found the money after they signed off on the divorce decree. Too late to get their hands on any money.”
“And now it’ll all go to waste because he’s dead.” Hilary folded her arms across her chest, her cheeks flushed. “If he were still alive, I’d have half a mind to kill him dead again.”
“Shh,” Willow warned her. Just a casual scan of the room showed some curious glances aimed their way. “You don’t want to be saying anything like that around here. Now until the sheriff finds the killer, in any case.”
“Fine.” Hilary leaned back against the wall and glared out at the lobby. “I’ll wait until there’s an arrest made before I dance on that thief’s grave.”
“At least you understand why I was upset enough to hand in my notice.”
“Oh.” Willow raised her eyebrows. “Is that what you were doing? I didn’t realize that it involved quite so much shouting.”
To his credit, Lyndon looked a bit shamefaced. “Well, my emotions might have gotten the better of me last night, but I had a good reason. I wonder if somebody else found out the same information and didn’t handle it as well as me?”
That was a possibility, and it struck a sour chord in Willow’s thoughts. “Where is Gary Riley this morning, anyhow?” she asked. “From the looks of him yesterday evening, he works from sun-up to sun-down.”
“I don’t know.” Hilary looked at all the faces in the lobby before turning back to Willow with a puzzled expression. “You’re right. He should be here.”
“Maybe he handed in his notice too,” Lyndon said with a sniff. “He was down here, listening to me go off at the boss. If he asked Mr. Meiser why, then he might have followed my lead and ditched his job here altogether.”
“I hope so,” Willow muttered. Even if Gary had been too tired to help her out much the night before, she’d instinctively liked him and his rumpled air. It reminded her in some ways of Charley. Speaking of which… She checked her phone, but there was no message wishing her good luck. Willow shook her head. The man was many things, but attentive wasn’t one of them.
“Will we ever get out of this place?” Hilary groaned. “I need a strong cup of coffee if I’m to keep my head up, whether or not they expect me to work today.”
“It’s a pity they didn’t set out the lobby with the conference facilities,” Lyndon agreed, stifling a yawn with the back of his hands. “A serve-yourself buffet would go down a treat, right about now.”
The sheriff’s office door opened, and the pathologist left the room, his head down, so he didn’t make eye contact with any of the guests still awaiting their interrogation. After a minute spent shuffling papers, the sheriff also appeared at the door.
“You’re all free to go,” he announced to the lobby of people at large.
“Well, thank goodness for that,” Willow exclaimed. “I suppose that anybody who wants to follow me down to the tea rooms should just walk a little slower than me. Otherwise, I won’t be set up and ready to take your order the minute you arrive.”
Although Lyndon still appeared keen, plus one other couple who looked to be guests of the hotel, nobody else seemed interested by her announcement. For the most part, the lobby had been full of employees who promptly set off to get back to their interrupted jobs.
“I’ll catch up with you later,” promised Hilary before she decamped. “I’ll drop by a resume in case you do develop an opening for a waitress later.”
“That would be lovely,” Willow said with a large smile. “Although, I promise you I’ll have you front of mind.” The smile faded as the earlier panic about her first day opening the tea rooms crowded back into her mind. “If I still have a mind left by the end of the day.”
“Lead the way,” Lyndon said, offering up a wide smile. “Once you point out where we’re going, I promise to slow down to a complete dawdle.”
“You’re a star.” Willow headed out the door with a wave to the sheriff, then paused and turned back. “Won’t you be hard up for cash though? Since you’ve missed out on your last pay.”
“I’m sure the hotel will come through for me once they sort out their current mess,” Lyndon reassured her. “Besides, the day I can’t afford a cup of tea in a fancy new establishment is the day I realize that I’ve wasted my life!”
Once they were close enough for Lyndon to see her open sign for himself, Willow hustled ahead to warn Harmony of their approaching customers. As she let herself in the front door, Harmony sprang to attention, Mavis clinging to her shoulder for grim life, given the sudden change in posture.
“I thought you were going to be stuck down there forever,” Harmony admitted, holding a hand up to her chest.
Willow could sympathize—her own heart was racing along, and she was out of breath. She pulled Mavis close for a reassuring cuddle and gathered her thoughts.
“We’ve got some customers set to arrive within the next minute,” Willow told her friend. “So, wish me luck! I’m about to take my very first orders.”
Harmony gave a squeal and followed Willow through to the proper tea room. Once the door was closed between the business and the house, it felt much more like a real thing.
“Mavis, you’re allowed to sit here and keep everyone company so long as you behave yourself.” Willow popped her kitten down in a basket in the corner, complete with a ball of yarn for playtime and a bowl of nibbles and water to keep her replete enough to stay away from the customer’s plates.
“Do I look okay?” Willow asked Harmony with a sudden rush of worry. She smoothed her hair back from her forehead and then busied herself tying an apron around her waist. “I didn’t even think to check in the mirror.”
“You look fine,” Harmony said with a smile. She licked her finger and pressed one loose strand of hair out of the way. “Just like Aniseed Valley’s latest businesswoman.”
A knock sent Willow’s heart rate into the stratosphere. She opened the door to Lyndon’s smiling face and entirely forgot how to operate her voice. Luckily, he helped himself inside, to a menu, then seated himself and the couple behind him at a table right by the window.
“Lovely view you’ve got here,” he remarked as he took a seat. “Is all this garden out here where you grow your herbs?”
Thankfully, the effect of being tongue-tied was as short-lived as it was unexpected.
“That’s right,” Willow said in an eager voice. “I’ve been growing herbs and flowers out there for two decades just for my own enjoyment, so I thought why not bring that to a larger number of people by opening up this shop?”
“It really is a lovely spot,” the woman said in a shy voice. She was sitting pressed close up against her husband and looked as fearful as a small rabbit facing down a large dog.
“Well, I’ll leave you to peruse the menu for a while,” Willow said as she backed away. “Just give me a holler when you’re ready.”
“Will do,” said Lyndon at the same time the woman blanched, perhaps at the thought of having to raise her quiet voice. Then her eyes set upon Mavis and all her shyness cracked open like she was fighting her way out of a brittle façade.
“Oh, there’s a kitty-cat,” she cried, leaping up from her seat
and gliding across the room. She crouched down in front of Mavis, clicking her fingers and her tongue in unison.
“That’s my kitten, Mavis,” Willow said with a pleased smile. She’d worried that having an animal in the tea room might put customers off. Then, when she thought about it, she’d decided that if it did, they weren’t the right type of customers for her.
“It’s a Maine Coon,” Harmony said, always happy to add extraneous details to a perfectly good conversation. “She’s only seven months old.”
“She’s so big already,” the woman exclaimed, holding Mavis’ paws up in the air as though the two of them were dancing. To her credit, the kitten looked as unfazed with the stranger’s attention as she did at anything else that happened in her life.
Lyndon raised a finger and Willow remembered her new role and hurried over to the table. “I’ll take a cup of rosehips,” he said while Willow chased her notebook around her oversized pockets. “And I think we should get a large serving of scones with cream and jam for the table.”
Willow nodded, committing the order to memory since the pad still evaded her fingertips. “And you, sir?”
“I’ll have a nice mug of black estate tea with a slice of lemon on the side, and my wife’ll have a pot of your hibiscus.”
“Coming right up,” Willow said, practically skipping into the kitchen. Bless Harmony for her forward thinking because she must have already nipped into the room to flick the switch on the enormous Zip water heater so it was close to the boil.
When everything was ready on a tray, Willow balanced it carefully and walked it back through to the waiting table. By that time, the woman was back in her seat, and Mavis was busy playing with her ball of wool.
“Are you staying up at the Bonaventure Hotel for long?” she asked as she laid out the order.
“I hope not,” the husband said with a gruff expulsion of air. “After the fuss we had this morning.”
“Gerald,” his wife said in a warning tone, “the poor man died. It’s no wonder that the sheriff’s office had to hold us up for a while.”
Tea Shop Cozy Mysteries - Books 1-6 Page 21