Tea Shop Cozy Mysteries - Books 1-6

by Katherine Hayton

  “We can take over here for the morning,” Wendy offered, “if you'd like to lie down and try to get a few more hours of sleep.”

  Since sleep had caused her state, to begin with, Willow overturned the kind offer. “I'll be fine once I get going,” she assured the two women. “And if I'm not, I'll just drink copious amounts of tea. That's the advantage of working here.”

  In keeping with that spirit, Willow brewed up a lovely batch of orange and spice tea. The vitamin C should keep her energy levels up for the rest of the day.

  With her initial batch of scones turning to hard stones in an overly hot oven, Willow wondered for a minute if she should have taken her waitress's advice. But the second batch turned out magnificent as did the one that followed.

  When the clock on the kitchen wall chimed out eleven o'clock, Willow could barely believe it. It was time for a second pick-me-up, and she hadn’t even used up the full dose from the first.

  “Hey,” Tiffany said in a whisper as she walked into the kitchen carrying a tray of empties. “Isn’t that the director from that play they’re doing in town?”

  Willow guessed that the young woman meant the television show and although she didn’t like to encourage her waitresses to gossip—not even to her—curiosity got the better of her, and she poked her head around the corner to see.

  Claud Hale sat at a table by the window. Not only that, his companion was Presley Sampson, the great lady’s co-star. If it hadn’t been for the terrible events of the day before, Willow would have been excited beyond belief.

  Instead, she felt a strange pang of guilt. Even though Sheriff Wender had assured her the night before that her actions hadn’t in any way contributed to Angel’s death, just being an onlooker to the tragedy made Willow feel in some way responsible.

  She smoothed her apron with nervous fingers while deciding to let Tiffany take the orders for the table. The next moment, her waitress had pushed her into the tea room from the kitchen. “Can you handle that table for me? I just need a breather.”

  Tiffany was such a font of energy most days that Willow suspected the excuse was a fabrication. Since the director had already turned and spotted her though, it was too late to leave unseen.

  “Welcome to my tea rooms,” Willow said as she walked over, pulling an order notebook from her apron pocket. The computer system automated everything, but she still liked to have a manual backup in case her memory faded, or the electricity conked out. On second thoughts, if that happened, the tea would be cold, and the cream would be warm, and the orders wouldn’t matter.

  “What do you recommend for people who've had a nasty shock?” Claud asked. “Because I think we'll both have a cup of whatever's best for that.”

  “Some chamomile might be just the ticket then,” Willow said. “It calms your nerves down. Or perhaps a Valerian tea if you don't mind feeling a bit sleepy.”

  “Sleepy sounds wonderful,” Presley said, folding up the unread menu and pushing it to one side. “Do you have any food fit for someone on a diet?”

  “Only if you're in the mood for cheating.” Willow gave the young woman a quick wink, and Presley burst into laughter.

  “We'll have some pikelets for the table,” Claud said with an air of authority. “They remind me of my granny.”

  “I'll be back in a few minutes.” Willow offered a forced smile that faded as soon as she was inside the safety of the kitchen. “Feeling better?” she asked Tiffany who sat with her hand on the side of the Zip heater, feeling if the water had boiled.

  “I thought you'd appreciate the chance to serve them. It's not every day you have famous faces in your tea room.”

  “You're right. Sorry if I snapped.” Willow set the cups out and measured the dried Valerian leaves into a tea bag before folding over the top to seal it shut. “Do we still have pikelets left from the morning?”

  “No, but there's still batter,” Tiffany said, automatically moving to put a griddle on the stove. “I'll get them started, and they'll just be a few minutes.”

  Willow usually performed all the cooking herself, but that was more to do with the fact that making small talk all day soon exhausted her and it was nice to have an excuse to escape when she needed the respite. Now, she gave a nod of thanks to Tiffany and scooped out the tea bags when the liquid was fully steeped.

  “Here you go,” she said, placing the teacups down on the table with great care. She'd overfilled Claud's a little so that the water was almost level with the lip. When she got it down without spillage, Willow gave a small sigh of satisfaction. “Your food will be out in just a minute. We're making a fresh batch up, so they'll be nice and hot.”

  While Claud smiled in appreciation, Presley stared over his shoulder out the window. “Is that your garden out there?”

  “Yes. I've been growing herbs in this spot for the past thirty years, give or take a few months.”

  “I love these quaint old shops,” Presley gushed. “They take me right back to when I was a little girl.”

  Willow smiled and tried not to let the words make her or the brand-new shop feel old. Once upon a time, she'd been as young and vibrant—and just as negligent of other people's feelings.

  When she walked back through to the kitchen, Willow nudged Tiffany to the side. “I'll take this over if you don't mind. I've found that meeting your heroes in person, seems to diminish them and I'm in no mood for any more disappointment.”

  “And I’ve just discovered that if you poke your head over in this corner,” Tiffany said, pointing to a spot on the wall beside a cabinet. “Then you can hear what they’re saying as clear as a bell.”

  “Really? And how did you discover that?”

  “Oh, well.” Tiffany stuck her hands into the front pocket of her apron and pulled the fabric up and out. “Just luck, I guess.”

  Since the information worked in Willow’s favor, she let the poor woman off the hook, but she made a mental note. Keep an eye on Tiffany and Wendy. The two of them probably had a lot more weapons up their sleeves!

  As soon as the pikelets were on their way, along with lashings of fresh butter, whipped cream, and lemon curd, Willow took Tiffany’s advice and pressed her ear up against the wall. The back of her head pressed up against the wooden cabinet, and she felt ridiculous. Still, the attraction of eavesdropping kept her stuck in place.

  “Since it appears our leading lady is in a spot of bother, I’ve put the script back the way it was,” Claud said.

  The news made Willow frown. Precisely what trouble could Thera Bourne possibly be in? She was the epitome of decency and good manners as far as Willow was concerned.

  “Thank you.” Even to Willow’s prying ears, the young actress seemed underwhelmed. Apparently, her table partner thought so too.

  “I imagined that you’d be pleased with the news,” Claud said in a voice that sounded clearly disgruntled. “If you’re not bothered, either way, I can just as easily switch it back.”

  “It’s not that,” Presley hastened to assure him. “I appreciate the opportunity, especially after it got switched around again the last time you tried. It’s just that I can’t stop thinking about yesterday and what happened to poor Angel.”

  “You don’t need to worry yourself with that. Believe me, with the insurance investigator crawling over the sets, we’re not in any danger of something similar happening again.”

  “But if they’ve taken Thera away for questioning, will they come for me next?”

  Willow frowned at the actress’s statement. Why was the sheriff bothering Thera Bourne with questions? Surely, he must know she would have nothing to do with such a terrible act?

  “I’m sure that Sheriff Wender will let her go soon enough. But, in the meantime, why don’t we shoot a few scenes with extra lines? I’ll tell the studio we’re just covering all contingencies.”

  “But if they arrest Thera, then the show can’t go on.”

  “Maybe not for another season, but this one is already bought and paid for. I’m
sure I can talk the program executives into bumping you into a starring role if the worst happens. As long as your performance continues at its current level, then we might even manage to sell them on another run.”

  “Do you really think they’d go for it?”

  “It’s worth a try, that’s all I’ll say for now. But remember, I didn’t get my current job by blindly rolling over when somebody ordered it. I fought my way into this career, tooth, and nail, and I’m happy to do the same for my favorite star.”

  Willow pulled her ear away from the wall, having heard enough. She felt slightly queasy at what she’d just listened to and ashamed that her mother had been right. Eavesdroppers heard nothing they wanted. From what Claud had said, Thera was in trouble and not just with the law.

  Well, Willow couldn’t sort out the situation with the filming schedule or the screenplay being rewritten so Presley had more lines than she deserved. On the other hand, Willow could pay the sheriff a visit and demand to know why he was questioning her favorite actress.

  Chapter Seven

  Tiffany and Wendy were more than happy to cover for Willow for an hour. With her tea room sorted for the moment, she stormed out of her house and walked to the sheriff’s office. Taking the car would have been much quicker, but she didn’t trust herself to drive.

  “I want to see Jacob,” she told Mary-Jo, then swept straight into the office without waiting for the woman to call through. “Morning, I have a bone to pick with you,” she told a startled sheriff as he rose from his seat.

  “I’m busy right now—”

  “Not so busy that you didn’t decide to drag poor Thera Bourne down here to subject her to a boatload of your questions.” When Willow was in high dudgeon, she wasn’t about to let the man get a word in. “I don’t understand what you think you’re doing but I want you to stop it right now, or I’ll call through to the county head office and complain.”

  The county office was the bane of Sheriff Wender’s life, and Willow knew it. Half a year before they’d stuck their nose into an investigation and insisted on sending a more experienced detective to the town to take over one of their cases.

  Having been on the receiving end of the interrogation techniques, Willow didn’t actually intend to drag them into this, but she knew the threat would hit home.

  “I’m just doing my job,” the sheriff said after a brief pause to gather himself. “And I suggest that you get out of my office and get back to yours. I don’t need members of the public in here questioning what I’m doing.”

  “Well, I don’t need my favorite television show ruined because you interrogated a woman who had nothing to do with the sound man’s death.”

  “You don’t know she didn’t,” Sheriff Wender said. He sat down and tapped a pen on the table, looking furious. “In fact, you’re the one who told me Thera was in the wrong place at the wrong time, to begin with.”

  “What?” Willow’s mouth dropped open as she frantically thought through everything she’d told the sheriff last night. “I told you I backed into her while I was retrieving Mavis. That happened long before the incident. If you can say with certainty I had nothing to do with the death, then obviously she doesn’t either.”

  “Except, you went back to join Trisha on the rug.” The flush of color in Sheriff Wender’s cheeks was dissipating, and his voice had returned to its normal level. “I’ve plenty of eye-witnesses that place you there at the time someone murdered Angel. The same people put Thera Bourne right beside the man just minutes before he was killed.”

  “So were Presley and the director.” Willow raised a hand up to her forehead. Sweat coated it in a thin layer. This was dreadful. What had she done? “I never would have told you anything if I thought for one minute you’d accuse her!”

  “Then it’s lucky you didn’t think it through before you talked to me,” the sheriff shot straight back. “I don’t need you lying to cover up for an actress just because you like her character on a show.”

  “But it’s not just that.” Willow took a seat in front of the sheriff’s desk before he legs could collapse and spill her onto the floor. “From the few words we exchanged, she seemed like a very nice lady.”

  At least the sheriff had the decency not to deride her statement, although Willow saw the struggle he had to stop any comments.

  “Why would she want to kill Angel anyway?” she asked to get the conversation back on track. “From what I could see, the only thing he could possibly have done to upset her was get a crackle on the mic, so she had to retake a few lines. That’s no reason for murder!”

  “There are other reasons,” the sheriff said, pushing back his seat and standing. “But none I’m going to get into with you. It’s time for you to leave.”

  “But…” Willow trailed off as she realized that she had no standing to demand anything. Just because she was upset, didn’t mean she could get the man to change the entire investigation. “Can you at least tell me if you’re still holding her here?”

  “No, I can’t.” Sheriff Wender took a gentle hold on Willow’s upper arm and escorted her to the exit. “It’s none of your business, and our suspects are entitled to their privacy, even if they’re public figures. If you were a close friend of hers, you’d already know either way.”

  Willow had to make do with that as the sheriff closed the door to the inner office and stood there until she walked out of the waiting area and headed back to her shop.

  * * *

  Willow walked into her tea room to discover Charley, Reg, and Harmony seated at a table.

  “We’re the cheering-up committee,” Reg said with a flourish of his hand. “We’ll be here until there’s a smile put back on your face.”

  “Shh.” Willow put a finger to her lips. “Remember, there are other customers here.”

  Reg looked at the occupied tables as though it was the first time he’d noticed them, then nodded. “I’ll keep my voice down,” he said in an oversized whisper that carried just as far. A girl three tables over giggled.

  “What can I fetch you?” Willow took the table’s order and busied herself in the kitchen, getting everything prepared. She also used the time to get a handle on her emotions.

  How could she walk into her own business without a smile on her face? That act alone was unforgivable. What was the point of making a dream come true if she let the excitement of it go to waste? The tea room had only been open a month, and here Willow was, glum with other matters weighing on her mind.

  “Here you go,” she said, passing out the cups and patting Charley’s hand when he pressed a quick one-armed hug around her waist. “I’m sorry if I seem a bit down.”

  “You don’t need to put on a show for us,” Harmony said. “We heard who the sheriff had locked up as his favorite suspect and knew you’d feel bad for it. Let Wendy and Tiffany deal with the other customers and take a seat with us.”

  She pushed out the last chair at the table and Willow glanced over at Tiffany, who nodded her approval. With a start, Willow also realized that the seats her friends had chosen were in the spot that the waitresses could overhear from the kitchen if they decided to. Better keep her voice down!

  “I can’t believe Jacob Wender doesn’t have the good sense to see that Thera Bourne is completely innocent,” Willow said while the others nodded in agreement. Except for Reg, but then again, visual signs didn’t always work to cue him into the expected behavior.

  “It’s a terrible thing,” Charley agreed. “And it doesn’t surprise me at all that the sheriff jumped to the easy conclusion rather than the right one.”

  “What do you mean, the easy conclusion?”

  Charley stared across the table at Willow, his eyes widening. “Just that she’s the s-star of the production…”

  He stammered his words and faltered to a stop. Harmony jumped in to rescue him. “We all know you’re not the only person in town that’s star struck. Of course, the lead in any production is the first port-of-call. If the director had been t
he better known of the two, I’m sure he’d currently be the one locked up.”

  “Well, that and the other thing,” Reg said, earning himself a sharp frown from Harmony.

  Willow sensed that the group had information it wasn’t sharing with her. So much for coming in to cheer her up. She banged her fist lightly on the table and glared at Charley, Harmony, and Reg in turn.

  “If you know something, I’d prefer you told me now rather than leave me to stumble over it later when I’m not in a receptive mood.”

  Of course, Willow’s glare might have confused her friends into thinking that she wasn’t in the right mood now. She forced herself to sit back in her chair and smile. “It seems obvious you have more information than me and I’d like for us all to be on the same page.”

  Reg appeared positively miserable, so Willow centered her attention in on him.

  “Were you nearby the park, yesterday?” she asked sweetly. “Did you see something?”

  “Not yesterday, no.” Reg paused and looked out the window, seeming to draw strength from the beautiful view outside. The man had worked his whole life outdoors, so it was no wonder that the land gave him calm and courage. “And I saw nothing,” he continued cryptically.

  Willow glanced over at Harmony, who hung her head, so she couldn’t make eye contact. Meanwhile, Charley picked up Willow’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Although she wanted to shout at them all to go away and take their worrying knowledge with them, Willow stayed seated. She knew the group loved and cared for her and would only come in to tell her bad news if it was for her own good.

  “I overheard an argument,” Reg continued after a few minutes had passed. “I was out spotting near Hankley Field when I lost my footing on a bank and slid down the side. It’s so wet down there, I got covered in mud from head to toe, so I headed back. There’s a set of luxury cabins near there.” Reg paused and looked at Willow with his eyebrows raised. “You know the ones?”

  She nodded. The cabins were so far out of her price range it made her breath catch, but Willow knew the place was full-up most weekends and had at least half that many during the week. Luxury came at a price that many people were willing to pay.