Reg looked at Willow and Harmony with a triumphant expression as though he’d just proved something. When Willow stared back, baffled, he sighed and explained, “Cows are one of the creatures that aliens like to target.”
“So, they’re not vegetarian, then?” Harmony asked with a quick giggle.
The expression Reg directed her way wasn’t the least bit amused. “They use them for experiments, the poor things. I can show you photographic evidence of the state aliens have left some cows.” He shuddered and shook his head. “It’s a terrible business.”
Willow leaned forward to pat his knee. “Another good reason to have stayed away from the creature, then. We don’t need you being experimented upon.”
Judging from the wistful look on his face, Reg wouldn’t have minded nearly so much.
He stood and walked to the window, pulling aside the net curtain to stare out onto the street.
“I’m sure the sheriff will let us know when he arrives,” Willow said, going to stand beside him. “You don’t need to keep watch.”
“I prefer to stand near the light”—Reg gave a chuckle—“such as it is.”
As Willow returned to the sofa—she definitely preferred to stay seated for the moment—she saw a smudge where Reg had been sitting. It caught the light from the window and amplified it, intensifying like a glow-in-the-dark paint, except the room wasn’t all that dark. She rubbed at the mark and a small amount came off on her hand. Paint. Some kind of luminescent paint.
Willow turned to Reg, her mouth opening to announce the find, when he pulled the curtain back into place, his face pale. “That’s Jacob pulling up outside,” he said. “I guess it’s time to face the music.”
Chapter Six
Although both Harmony and Willow offered to go with Reg and wait for him in the sheriff’s office, he refused. As he meekly got into the back seat of Sheriff Wender’s car, Willow wondered if him turning down the gesture was linked to his shame over running away the night before.
“I don’t know what’s got into him,” Harmony said as Willow returned to the lounge, “but I hope he doesn’t mouth off his theories about aliens around the town. They might put up with his sightings of strange lights and UFOs, but I think they’ll draw the line at little green men.”
“It’s paint.” Willow showed Harmony the glowing smudge on the palm of her hand. “I wonder if this came from the ‘alien’ that Reg saw. If a man were painted all over in this stuff, then it explains why he was glowing in the moonlight.”
Harmony frowned at the mark, taking hold of Willow’s hand to get a better look. “Why on earth would someone paint themselves with that?” Her mouth set in a hard line. “If it’s some lads from the bar in a town having a laugh at Reg’s expense, I hope they get what’s coming to them.”
The abrupt change from her warning of a minute before to the angry expression now revealed the depth of her affection for Reg. She obviously didn’t want him to be hurt—either from putting voice to his strange theories or by being the butt of another person’s joke.
“For a prank, I think that’s taking it a bit far.” Willow washed the smudges of paint off her hands. “I can believe putting on an alien suit or something, but coating yourself in this muck? That would take dedication. I can’t believe a guy from the bar would think the payoff worth the effort.”
“No.” Harmony patted at the slight stain left on the couch cushion. “We should go down to the hardware store and check to see if anyone’s bought some of this paint recently. If they can tell us that, it would send us in the right direction.”
“Sounds good to me.” Willow grabbed her coat from beside the front door but even with its layers of woolen warmth, she shivered as she stepped outside. “Ugh, that’s brisk. Should we take the car instead?”
“A walk will warm you up more than driving will.”
Willow cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, but one of those options doesn’t take any effort.”
Harmony laughed and hooked her arm through Willow’s dragging her friend along a few paces until she reluctantly started to walk by herself. “If you don’t exercise now, you’ll never be able to keep up with Mavis as you get older.”
“I can’t keep up with her now.”
After a few minutes, the heat of motion became equal to the challenge of the cool air, and Willow got into her stride. As they pulled up to the hardware store, she had to admit Harmony had been right. Not that she’d tell her so just yet. After all, she might still change her mind.
“Hey, Albi,” Harmony called out as they walked inside.
Although Willow had lots of dealings with the shop during the period when her conservatory was being converted into a tea room, she hadn’t learned the names of the employees there. For someone who prided herself on having people skills, it showed she needed to up her game.
Since Harmony had taken the lead, Willow let her eyes travel around the store instead. The gardening section called to her but there was nothing there she needed with any urgency. Until the ground warmed up some, it wasn’t any use starting the new season’s seedlings. Any plants on sale were only fit for indoors—to plant them out in this weather would herald a cruel death.
Next to the gardening supplies were racks of fence palings, leading onto a section for barbecues and outdoor braziers, a reminder of late summer evenings spent with good friends. Opposite those were the paint supplies—cans and sprays on shelf after shelf, a myriad of colors to peruse if she only had the time.
As Harmony explained their mission, Albi came out from behind the counter and led them across to the selection. “I’m not sure we’ll have any details, aside from the payment information, but if you can spot the exact type of paint, that’ll give me a better idea of where to start.”
Willow peered at the palm of her hand, but she’d wiped all the faint traces clean. “I don’t know we’ll be able to help you out there. We only saw a smudge on the sofa. Are there many varieties of luminescent paint for sale?”
Albi launched into an effusive explanation of every version on offer. If they’d been in the market to buy some, perhaps the effort wouldn’t have been so wasted. As it was, the two of them had to wait until he paused for breath before interrupting, “So, that’s a yes?”
The man wrinkled his nose and nodded. “Yeah. There’re types of paint for everything. It’s a good option for those who need to mark outbuildings and stuff for when workers are picking crops and stuff like that. You don’t want your employees getting lost on the way back from the fields, but you also don’t want to lose out on any vestiges of working hours by leaving early.”
“So, the Prebbletons might have some stock of it for their land?”
Harmony posed the question as though it was just a conversational aside, but Albi wasn’t fooled. He shook his head. “I can’t tell you what our customers might or mightn’t hold on their properties. But, yeah. If that’s what you were really after. They’ve bought this type of paint in here before.”
“We should’ve just asked him that from the start,” Willow observed as they walked out of the store. “It could’ve saved him a lot of bother.”
“There was hardly anyone else in there. I’m sure he was grateful to show off his product knowledge.” After a moment, Harmony frowned and added, “The trouble is, I can’t imagine a situation where the Prebbletons coated themselves in paint at that time of night. During the day, it’d be easier to come up with a plausible scenario—knocking a can off a shelf or something—but they wouldn’t be out and about at eleven at night.”
“No. Nor would any of the other farmers in the area.” Willow pulled her hair behind her ear after a gust of wind dragged it into her mouth. “As far as I know, they’re all early to bed, early to rise.”
“We could always go out there again and see if we can find other traces of it out in the field.”
Willow shook her head. “Not with the sheriff’s office sniffing around out there. Besides, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Now we�
�ve established what Reg’s alien was composed of, the real question should be, do we tell him or not?”
“I vote not.”
They drew close to Willow’s home, and she breathed a sigh of relief as they walked indoors to a gust of warm and welcoming air. “That’s better,” she said, hanging up her coat. “I always feel like an elephant wearing that enormous thing.”
* * *
Willow and Harmony finished off the service in the tea room, sending Tiffany and Wendy home early as a thank you for serving alone for most of the day. As the last customers left, Willow brought in the open sign and locked the back door.
Harmony was just commenting on how long Reg had been down at the sheriff’s office when a vehicle pulled up outside and he jumped out of the rear seat.
“Goodness,” Willow said, giving him a hug as he came through the door. “They must’ve been very thorough.”
“Kept me waiting for ages,” Reg grumbled. “The sheriff kept excusing himself from the interview to receive calls and reports and goodness knows what else.” He puffed out his chest. “I might not be an officer, but my time matters too.”
“Of course, it does,” Willow said, indignant on his behalf. “Was it very rough in there?”
“Boring, more like. The same questions over and over. I can tell you right now, I felt like they were flat out laughing at me.”
“More fool them.” Harmony put her hands on her hips. “I’ve a good mind to say the next time the sheriff wants to ask questions, we tell him to wait until we have a lawyer in the room. We’ll see how much he laughs then.”
“Miss Moneybags, eh?” Reg smiled at her. “I can’t afford a lawyer.”
“We don’t have to tell him that.”
Willow held up her hand. “How about you stop discussing ways to waste the taxpayer’s money on a sheriff unable to do his job, and help me figure out what we’re going to do about dinner?”
They decided on Chinese takeout and while waiting for the delivery to arrive, sat down to watch the local news.
“Police have now identified the body found this morning on a farm in Aniseed Valley. The dead man was Matthew Albert, from Tennessee, in town for an antique buy, sell, and exchange. Preliminary reports say the man died from a combination of blood loss from a bullet wound and hypothermia.”
After the newsreader moved on, Willow muted the television. “I think that’s the same lot who missed out on your tour this morning. A man I spoke to said he was in town for a short time, then the whole group was moving on.”
“I suppose I’ve lost out on a week’s worth of business there, all in one fell swoop.” Reg gave a disgusted sigh.
“On the bright side, it doesn’t seem likely that an alien would come to earth in order to shoot an antiquing tourist,” Willow said. “So, I think you can stop blaming yourself for last night.”
“I suppose.” Reg still appeared downcast, then a minute later his face brightened. “That means there’s still a chance the creature’s out there.”
Harmony exchanged a quick glance with Willow, then deliberately avoided eye contact. A knock at the door signaled the arrival of food and Willow went to answer. When she brought the heated containers back to the lounge, Harmony said, “I think any aliens would head straight home with the deputies crawling all over the Prebbleton farm. If they have any sense, that is.”
“It’ll be an interesting addition to your tour, in any case.” Willow dished out some plates and cutlery. “With a little work around the edges of the truth to tidy it up.”
“Once the sheriff’s office has moved on from the farm, I’ll get to work seeing if there’s evidence of the landing around there. I’m thinking it’s most likely teleportation was used, but you never know.” Reg’s eyes gleamed with the possibilities.
“I wouldn’t think they’ll be leaving anytime soon,” Harmony warned him. “If the man was really shot, they’ll be scouring the crime scene for quite some time.”
“Come to think of it, that clears up one question the sheriff kept asking me.” Reg paused to chew his way through a mouthful of Kung Pow Chicken. “He wanted to know if I heard any gunshots while I was out last night.”
When his interest turned back to the meal in front of him, Willow gave an exasperated sigh. “And? Did you?”
Reg looked up, startled. “No! I’m sure I would’ve told you if I’d heard anything like that.” He took another mouthful and chewed it, wrinkling his nose up—a sure sign he was working something out. “Actually, that means the guy must’ve been killed after I’d gone. I was out there for hours before the sighting.”
Willow leaned forward. “Did you tell the sheriff that?”
After swallowing again, Reg nodded. “I took him through my entire calendar at least three times. As I told you, the interview was a complete snooze fest. Over and over the same things.”
“I wonder what an antique seller could’ve done to warrant a gunshot wound.” Harmony finished off her plate and sat back, hands contentedly crossed over her belly. “Not saying anyone deserves it, mind, but who would go out of their way to shoot at someone who sounds so innocuous that late at night?”
“Maybe another antique dealer, hot on the same item?” Willow cleared away their plates and searched through the cupboards for a sweet snack to end the meal. “Although, didn’t you say the Prebbleton’s had lost some of their cattle lately?”
Reg looked up and nodded. “I don’t think an antique dealer would be interested in a few cows though. It’s far more likely to be alien interference.”
“But if they thought he was a poacher…” Willow left the rest of the thought unsaid and snagged out a packet of Oreos she’d stashed behind the empty milk jug in the cupboard. Miraculously, they’d evaded her boyfriend Charley’s cookie-whisperer hands.
“I don’t think they’re the shoot first, ask questions later types.” Harmony raised her eyebrows at Reg. “Unless you know different.”
“They’d be asleep by then, anyhow,” he responded. “I ask permission if I’m going to be spotting out on their land at night, but I doubt they’d ever notice.”
“Oh, well.” Willow dunked her cookie into a cup of chamomile tea until it was nice and soggy, then sucked the biscuit off the filling. “I’m sure the sheriff will have everything nicely in hand. We’ll just have to wait and see what he finds out.”
Chapter Seven
Despite Willow’s predictions, by that weekend there’d been no further announcements from the sheriff’s office. The case still flashed up on each local bulletin but with nothing new to be added, the reporting grew stale.
“You know,” Harmony said as she arrived to take Willow around to the weekend markets. The stalls had moved inside the old cattle yards as a concession to the worsening weather, but Willow still dressed in three layers of clothing as a precaution. “I spoke with Dee at the winery tours place yesterday, and she said the numbers of tourists booking in for next week had dropped.”
“Really?” Without much else to do in Aniseed Valley, the tours were usually sold out weeks in advance. “Is that normal in the middle of winter?”
“No. They reduce the trips down to one, in the morning, but it’s usually still packed full.” Harmony’s eye was caught by a second-hand book stand and Willow stood back, preparing to wait patiently while her friend indulged her passion.
When Harmony returned to the conversation, now weighed down with a stack of at least a dozen books, she acted as though a half-hour gap hadn’t just occurred. “Dee said they’d already reserved tickets. Folks were calling up to cancel because they’d decided to skip this stop on their travels.”
Willow’s stomach flipped over in lazy circles. “You mean, just the winery tour?”
“I don’t think so. I checked in with the Bonaventure Hotel later and they said the same. Bookings, some made months in advance, were being canceled with no real explanation.” Harmony cast a caring glance at Willow. “It seems the unresolved murder of a tourist is affecting p
eople’s plans.”
The tea room had a lot of local custom, but the population of Aniseed Valley would never be able to support a niche business like hers on its own. The skin on Willow’s forehead felt clammy and her heart began to beat faster.
She’d been scared by a downturn at the beginning of winter and had thought the venture might end in disaster. Since then, with help from Reg’s regular stops and a few other deals she’d made around town, the business had picked up again. If that situation reversed, there was every chance the tea room wouldn’t survive.
Willow might be left with an extra-fancy conservatory and nothing much else.
“Surely, that’s not the reason. New York must have dozens of unresolved murders on the books every week, and nobody’s canceling their travel plans to there.”
Even as she spoke the words firmly, Willow knew it wasn’t the same thing. New York had a thousand, ten thousand, attractions on offer. In Aniseed Valley, the main attraction was that of a quiet and peaceful town. With that reputation tarnished by an unsolved murder, there wasn’t a backup plan.
“I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily,” Harmony said, looping her arm through Willow’s. “But I did think you’d appreciate being aware. Of course, if Jacob gets a fire lit under him and actually solves the case, this will all blow over. Once that poor man’s death isn’t on the news every night, people will soon forget.”
“I wonder if we should pay a visit out to the Prebbleton farm once we’re done here,” Willow said slowly. “It’s only fair we should check and see they’re okay. After all, since we were there the day the body was discovered, I feel a sense of responsibility.”
Harmony squeezed her hand and shoulder bumped her. “I think that’s a fine idea. If I had all that action happening on my property, I’d really appreciate the opportunity to talk to someone all about it.”
Tea Shop Cozy Mysteries - Books 1-6 Page 45