Willow let Mavis down onto Mary-Jo’s desk where she examined all the stationery and gave everything a good sniff before deciding it wasn’t the job for her. Instead, she climbed onto one of the waiting room chairs, curled her tail around her body, and went to sleep.
“I know it’s only three o’clock,” Mary-Jo said, “but that’s exactly what I feel like doing.”
“Surely the sheriff won’t keep you much longer.” Willow settled down on the seat next to her kitten. “Even if a murderer is running about.”
“From what I’ve heard in this waiting room today, Clay Woodcock is going to be no great loss to anybody.” Mary-Jo shook her head. “Half the folks who dropped on in today were just expressing how pleased they were somebody got him rather than telling us anything useful to track down the killer who did.”
“I’m still not sure the whole thing isn’t just some dreadful accident.” Harmony pursed her lips and looked down. “Unless you judge whether a man was murdered by how many folks disliked him, then I don’t understand how someone can tell the difference.”
“It wouldn’t matter.” Mary-Jo stretched her arms up and yawned before leaning forward again. “Whoever hit him must’ve realized they’d crashed into something. To not stop or render aid is a crime just by itself.”
“I suppose so,” Harmony said, still sounding very doubtful.
“Besides,” Mary-Jo added, with a gleam of mischief in her eye, “I heard whoever did it, backed up again to make sure.”
Willow gasped and held a hand to her mouth. “That’s dreadful.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t even bear to think about it.”
“It’s just a theory,” Mary-Jo continued, “and if anyone asks, you didn’t get it from me!”
Harmony mimed a zip closing her lips and Willow tried to drive the images Mary-Jo’s words had conjured up out of her mind. By the time Sheriff Wender could see them—five minutes stretching into twenty—she was looking forward to getting home and listening to some sweet music on the radio to drive such grisly thoughts from her head.
It didn’t take very long to fill the sheriff in on everything they’d discovered that day. As Willow and Harmony left the station, he fixed them with a strange look. “It might pay to remember we’re searching for a killer here. You should keep yourselves safe and stay out of it.”
Willow shook her head. She would have folded her arms across her chest in defiance if she hadn’t been holding Mavis. “We don’t care about Clay’s murderer, all we’re concerned about is that Tiffany is still missing. Until she turns up safe, we’ll keep looking for her.”
“Just be careful,” Sheriff Wender warned, “and don’t forget the killer and your missing waitress might be the same person.”
Willow turned up her nose at that assertion and stomped out of the door.
* * *
Willow and Harmony had not long arrived home when the phone rang. Both women launched themselves at the device, Willow getting there first. “Hello, Willow’s Tea Rooms?”
“Is that you Willow? It’s Erika Cowden here.”
“Did Tiffany come home?”
A short silence followed Willow’s question. It sounded like Mrs. Cowden was trying to cover up sobs. A thin skewer of fear pierced Willow’s heart, and she looked up at Harmony, wide-eyed.
“No, we still haven’t heard anything. It’s Trace. The sheriff’s here to arrest him for Clay’s murder, and I need to go with him.”
“Oh, that’s terrible, Erika,” Willow said, pushing her responsibility for the arrest to the back of her mind. “If you need anything, please let me know.”
“That’s what I’m calling about. I need somebody to watch the kids while I’m at the sheriff’s office with Trace. The daycare is already closed, and I didn’t know who else to call.”
Willow’s earlier fear returned, this time with a vengeance. “Goodness. I mean, I’m happy to help out, but I’ve never—”
“Great. If you can come around now, that’d be fantastic. The deputy is already giving me the stink-eye for holding them up this long.”
The phone clicked off before Willow could finish her protest. She replaced the receiver, trying to find the bright side of the situation and failing.
“What is it?” Harmony grabbed her arm and shook it. “Is Tiffany okay?”
“They still haven’t heard from her, but we’ve been roped into babysitting.”
“We’ve been what?” Harmony took a step back, wringing her hands nervously together. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve never spent a great deal of time with children.”
That had been the same protest Willow had been going to offer Erika, but it was too late now. “I’m sure we’ll be fine,” she said, ignoring the pinpricks of worry needling her scalp. “Let’s get going. You’ll probably be a natural with the kids, you have so many stories to tell them.”
“Maybe Reg would be better…”
“Reg isn’t here.” Willow stood with her legs slightly apart, arms folded in a stern line. “And unless you want to abandon me in my hour of need, then please come.”
Harmony nodded, and they headed out the door together. Willow found she was biting her lip and forced herself to stop it. After all, how much trouble could two children be?
* * *
They traveled by foot to the Cowden’s house. As Willow pointed out, they needed to get something for themselves and the children to eat, so they might as well stop off half-way home and grab themselves a bite at a restaurant in town. Parking would make the car more of a hindrance than a help given the early hour.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” Erika greeted them, as soon as she opened the door.
A deputy stood beside her, hands on his hips. Meanwhile, Sheriff Wender had an arm hooked through Trace Cowden’s elbow and the man’s wrists were handcuffed together behind his back.
“Can we get going now?” the sheriff called out just as a tow-truck arrived in the driveway, blocking his car in. He gave an exasperated huff, then pulled his prisoner down onto the sofa to wait.
The deputy hurried outside to direct the men as to which car to hitch up onto the truck. The dark-green Datsun Willow had spied earlier sat on the driveway. The Honda that had blocked it in before was now parked out on the street.
A minute later, the deputy came back inside. “Where’re the keys for the Datsun? They’ll need to drive it up to the hook to get it onboard.”
Trace shrugged. “I don’t know. They should be on the board.” He nodded toward a wooden plaque dotted with hooks for keys and the deputy hurried over.
Erika stepped forward to save him the trouble. “They’re not there. We looked for them earlier when we noticed the damage for the first time, but they’re not where they should be, and we couldn’t find them in any of our pockets or my handbag either.”
The deputy shot her a look of disgust, then walked back out to inform the tow-truck driver of the new development.
“My grandchildren are just through here,” Erika called out to Willow. “They’re generally well-behaved,” she continued in a whisper, “but they must miss their mom at the moment because they’re a bit energetic.”
She opened a door, and Willow saw a blur of activity. If she hadn’t known there were only two, she might have guessed at a glance there were three children in the room, or maybe four. They ran in between the twin beds and scrambled over the back of the two comfy chairs before clambering up onto the windowsill and pretending to fly, landing with a thump down on the bed covers, then tumbling off to repeat.
“Goodness, aren’t they full of beans?” Willow fiddled with the top button of her blouse, picturing them running at high speed through her well-ordered house. It would be like having the disruptive builders back in there, only a hundred times stickier.
“Jeremy! Rachel! Stop messing about and say hello to Willow and Harmony. They’ll look after you for the rest of the day.”
The children rushed toward the women, Jeremy sticking his
finger deep into his nose before removing it after a frown from Erika. He then extended the same hand, ready to shake.
“It’ll be fun, I’m sure,” Harmony said, edging forward when Willow seemed lost for words. “We’ll take you out for a nice meal first in town, then walk back to Willow’s house.” Harmony bent forward as though about to confess a secret. “She has the world’s best-loved kitten, you know.”
The children appeared delighted with the revelation, and Erika sent them through to the bathroom to wash their hands.
“I didn’t know whether to pack them a bag,” she said. “Then ran out of time, anyway. Here’s a key to get into the house if you need any clothing or stuff like that.” She held out a key-ring with a dozen keys on it, tapping the largest.
Willow took it out of Erika’s hand, hoping the children wouldn’t be staying with her long enough to need it.
A crash sounded from outside, and they all moved back through to the living room, staring out the window as tow-truck struggled to lift the weight of the locked vehicle. Even to Willow’s untrained eye, it was clear the car had struck something significant—the grill and the top of the hood were severely dented. Recently, too, given the twinkle of raw metal showing through the paint.
Sadness welled up within her as Willow thought of the dreadful circumstances. It had been horrible enough with Tiffany missing, now her father appeared to have killed her husband, and the whole situation had become a thousand times worse.
She stored those feelings away as Tiffany’s children came back into the room, more water covering their torsos than had made it onto their fingers. Willow clapped her hands and forced a broad smile onto her face. “Let’s get going, then. Say goodbye to your granny and grandpa, and we’ll walk into the town for a nice dinner.”
Erika waved goodbye and Trace nodded his head as Willow and Harmony swept the kids outside and hurried them away from the distressing scene.
Chapter Nine
Jeremy and Rachel had no idea of what they wanted to eat for dinner. Willow could feel herself growing older as she sat in the booth opposite them, watching the two children debate the merits of the six items available on the kids’ menu.
“It’s a pity they don’t just have a selection of all of them,” Willow mused, “so you can try everything at once!”
Rachel looked up with a gleam of excitement in her eye. “Do you think they’d let us do it if we asked?”
Harmony snapped her fingers imperiously to summon the waiter, a gesture Willow had never seen her friend perform before. “Could we have a tasting menu of nuggets, burger, chicken strips, fish and chips, chicken-fried steak, and mozzarella sticks please.”
The waitress shook her head. “No. You can only order them as separate meals.”
“In that case,” Harmony smiled up at her. “Which of the six would you recommend.”
“None. I don’t let my kids eat fried food,” the woman replied with a scowl.
Willow’s annoyance at the slight made her decisive in her babysitting. “We’ll have one each of the meals for the table to share.” She folded up the menus and handed them across. “And a vanilla milkshake for each of us.”
The waitress appeared to be about to argue but Willow fired up her steeliest expression, and the woman shrugged and turned away.
Jeremy and Rachel looked at their new babysitters as though they were magical. “Mom never lets us eat fried food either,” Rachel confessed in a whisper. “We’ve never been in here before.”
For a second, Willow felt a pang of guilt over introducing something to the children’s taste buds their mother didn’t want them experiencing. Then she remembered Tiffany had voluntarily chosen to get out of town for a few days, and decided she was on safe ground.
“Well, it certainly isn’t food you want to eat every day, but it’s nice to have variety once in a while.”
The milkshakes arrived, and soon the children invented a game that consisted of sucking up half a straw full of milk, then blowing it in the face of their sibling. Willow might have told the kids off, except their day had gone so terribly thus far that she didn’t feel right doing so. Instead, she pulled free a handful of napkins and piled them in front of the children, ready for when they’d finished.
Considering how delicious the milkshake tasted to her, Willow couldn’t understand wasting it just to torment your sibling. On the other hand, she’d never had a brother or sister, so the whole experience was beyond her comprehension.
“I hope Tiffany turns up soon,” she whispered to Harmony. “I don’t understand where she would’ve gone to if her father took her away from the motel.”
Harmony put a finger to her lips and nodded at the children and Willow sighed. Yes, she was back to being the world’s worst babysitter again.
“Reg!” Willow called out in relief as her friend walked in through the restaurant door. He looked over at their table, first surprised, then a little embarrassed. Willow and Harmony slid over to let him into their booth, and he gave a sigh as he sat down.
“You’ve caught me at my secret vice.” His face still wearing mild shame. “But I couldn’t be bothered cooking for myself tonight. Who are your new friends?”
Willow introduced the children to Reg and then followed up with a question designed to entertain them: “Have you seen any UFOs lately?”
Rachel and Jeremy’s eyes widened, and their mouths dropped open as Reg nodded. “I’ve only caught a few glimpses, but I’m sure it’s leading up to something bigger. Often, I don’t get any indications of alien activity at all, but for the past week, there’s been lights and signals all over the night sky.”
Willow couldn’t decipher whether Reg was telling a tale for the benefit of the children or had indeed seen something while he was out spotting at night. Hedging her bets, she nodded for him to continue.
“There was a strange smoky light over by the Anderson’s back lot. I would’ve put it down to being a low fog, but the light emanated from within the mist rather than being shone on it.” Reg warmed to his theme, telling the children all about the different sights he’d spotted as the bulk of Aniseed Valley lay asleep.
When the meals arrived, it was Reg’s turn for his eyes to widen. “Are you expecting someone else?”
“No, we just wanted to sample everything,” Willow assured him, passing over a long French fry he was eyeing up. “This way everybody can help themselves to anything they fancy.”
She cut the burger and steak into pieces while Harmony did the same with the chicken and fish. The nuggets and mozzarella sticks were already conveniently portioned.
Soon, the sounds of giggling and eating took over their table. Once, Willow looked up to see a raised eyebrow of disdain from another table. She poked out her tongue, earning a high-pitched giggle from Rachel, then turned her attention back to her friends. The rest of the town could look after themselves.
* * *
Reg accompanied the group to Willow’s house, much to her relief. Jeremy and Rachel appeared to have propelled him up to hero status over their dinner, and he showed no signs of disappointing them as fanciful tale followed even-more-fanciful tale. As they came inside her house, she and Harmony skived off their childcare duties to go to the kitchen, leaving Reg in charge.
But even the best story-teller couldn’t hold the kids’ attention forever. Soon, Willow turned on the TV and left them watching their favorite show while the grownups sat at the dining table, still in eye shot of Jeremy and Rachel.
“I always wanted to have children,” Reg said with a wistful tone of voice. “But we couldn’t have them naturally, and the IVF and such they have nowadays was far too expensive back then for us to afford.”
“I’m sorry.” Willow felt a surge of shock and sadness. She and Molly had never discussed having children. At least, not after the first time when she emphatically stated she didn’t want them and he seemed to agree.
Now, Willow wondered what it might have been like. Her life would have been far b
usier of course, but it might also have been richer and more complex.
“You might want to keep an eye on Mavis,” Reg said, pointing. The kitten had stuck her head warily around the corner of the living room before backtracking and trotting over to sit near Willow’s feet. It didn’t seem like Jeremy or Rachel had noticed.
“All I can think of is what upheaval those poor kids will go through soon,” Harmony said. “Unless Tiffany turns up, then I guess Erika will have her hands full.”
“From what I’ve heard, she’s only happy to look after them short-term.” Willow pursed her lips, then took another sip of tea. “It would certainly be a terrible situation to be placed in.”
“I thought Tiffany was okay?” Reg frowned. “Wasn’t that what the sheriff went to great pains to tell us the other day.”
It turned out Reg had been off spotting and camped out for the night, so hadn’t caught up with the latest. Willow filled him in, with one eye on the kids to make sure they didn’t overhear.
“But that’s dreadful!” Reg thumped his fist down onto the table, startling Mavis. “And to think he then started a fight with Clay over his daughter when he knew exactly where she was.”
It was Harmony’s turn to frown. “What do you mean?”
“If he picked her up yesterday afternoon, then he must have known where she was before he went into The Old Chestnut to have a drink and got into the argument with Clay. To then run him over is unbearable. What could the man have been thinking?”
“That makes no sense at all,” Harmony said with her brow screwed up in concentration. “If he’d bundled his daughter into a car, then he’s the only person who knows where she is, unless he also told his wife.”
Willow’s stomach started to hurt, and she rubbed it cautiously. Perhaps eating one fifth of six different meals hadn’t been the best idea for her digestion. Or maybe it was just the confusion of facts her mind couldn’t wrap itself around that was causing her belly to twist in pain.
“We need a time line,” she said, standing up to head for the kitchen drawers. She pulled out a pad and a handful of pens, hoping some of them would still write. Willow didn’t know how it happened, but her used pens always seemed to sneak their way back into the drawer.
Tea Shop Cozy Mysteries - Books 1-6 Page 38