“So Harvey threatened him?”
With a sigh, Bennett looked toward the office . . . toward the safe. “I think it was more bluster than a threat. But who knows how Sporty took it. Who knows if Sporty confronted Harvey and then killed him.”
Daisy was going to have to think about all that. She wouldn’t mind talking to Sporty herself. That could be foolish, or she could just pretend she was a clueless woman looking for a present for her father.
“I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time. Thank you for talking with me. Did you tell Detective Rappaport about Sporty?”
“Actually, no. That whole episode slipped my mind. But maybe I’ll give him a call and let him know about that confrontation. It might help. It also might take the heat off your aunt.”
Daisy hoped that was true. Her Aunt Iris could use a little stress relief.
Daisy took one more look around the store. “I think you’re on to something here, Bennett. After all, my two girls are into trendy. I think your store portrays that vibe now. Good luck with it.”
“Thank you.” He lowered his voice. “And if you do ever go next door to see Sporty, make sure you carry pepper spray.”
Daisy didn’t own pepper spray, but maybe she could buy a canister at Sporty Digs.
Chapter Seventeen
Revelations was one of those galleries that carried everything from Amish folk art to landscapes of Lancaster County to impressionistic paintings of cats to abstract art that didn’t make much sense to Daisy. Tessa’s art fell into the mood-making and feline art categories, realistic yet impressionistic. Daisy loved Tessa’s paintings and always had. Tonight was a wonderful opportunity for her.
The gallery was located in an old Victorian that might have been one hundred fifty years old. The gallery itself was divided into several rooms. The rooms had been renovated with gallery specifications in mind. The lighting along the walls and in tracks on the ceiling cast a glow in just the right places. Reese Masemer lived upstairs.
Daisy felt good in her new dress and high heels, which she didn’t wear much anymore. She’d swept her hair up on top of her head and wore gold dangly earrings that Ryan had given her. Jazzi had decided to come with her and had dressed up a bit too. She looked so grown-up in a bateau-neck sweater dress in her favorite shade of blue. She didn’t realize yet that she was going to grow into a beautiful woman.
She tugged on Daisy’s arm as they entered the main gallery. “Wow, look at all the people. There’s Aunt Iris.” Jazzi waved to her, and Iris waved back.
Daisy had convinced Iris that coming to the showing could take her mind off of everything else. She was glad her aunt had taken her advice.
Returning to Jazzi’s comment, she responded to her daughter, “Tessa sent an e-mail blast to everyone she knew professionally as well as family and friends. It looks as if it worked.”
As Daisy and Jazzi migrated toward Tessa’s paintings, suddenly Jazzi pointed to a painting. “Look, Mom. That’s Pepper!”
Daisy had to smile when she saw the painting of a black cat with white markings on its chest sitting in the middle of an herb garden.
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it? It’s probably out of our price range or I’d buy it.”
As she looked down the row to study the other paintings, a man waved to her. It was Trevor. She wasn’t sure whether she should wave back, but she shouldn’t have worried. He made his way through the crowd to approach her.
He smiled. “I should have known you’d be here. Besides being her employer, you and Tessa Miller went to school together, didn’t you?”
“Something tells me you’ve been doing a background check.”
“Everything for the story. I’m here tonight for the same reason. I cover these shows, not only here but in Lancaster and York too. See who else is here?”
Following the direction of Trevor’s chin, Daisy was surprised when she spied Monica Fitz. “Does Monica often attend these shows?” She knew Revelations had two or three a year.
Trevor nodded vigorously. “She’s often in attendance. She’s an important patron of this gallery.”
Suddenly Daisy felt a hand on her shoulder. When she turned, she faced Cade Bankert. It was good to see him again. He was looking as handsome as usual in a gray pinstripe suit, white shirt, and gray striped tie.
“Hi, Cade. Thinking of buying one of Tessa’s paintings?”
“I might, though her work is a little too soft for me.” He nodded toward the other room. “I like some of those abstracts.”
A man who liked to interpret paintings. She could be intrigued by that.
Trevor said, “I’d better mingle. It was good to see you again, Daisy.”
After Trevor moved on, Jazzi said, “I see one of my friends with her mom over there. I’m going to mingle too.”
That left Cade and Daisy standing alone, at least for the moment. Cade asked, “So why were you asking about Monica Fitz?”
Apparently, he’d overheard her conversation with Trevor. “I wanted to know because I wondered if Monica was following me or my aunt around.”
Cade look puzzled. “Why would Monica do that?”
Daisy didn’t answer. She didn’t think it was wise to tell Cade that she’d picked up Daniel and taken him home.
But he must have sensed something because he asked, “Are you snooping where you shouldn’t?”
That question offended Daisy, whether it should or shouldn’t have. “Cade, you’re not my keeper.” She turned away. “I’m going to take a look at Tessa’s other paintings.”
As she started to cross the room, he caught her elbow. “Wait.”
She did.
“I’m worried about you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She felt her annoyance vanish in the midst of his concern. “Nothing’s going to happen to me simply because I ask a few questions. Knowledge is power, remember?”
“Yes, I remember. I use the concept all the time in my business dealings. Look. How would you like to go to dinner tomorrow night? Then you can tell me what you’ve been up to.”
Telling him what she’d been up to probably wasn’t a good idea, but dinner with him—“You might not want to know what I’ve been up to, but dinner sounds good.”
“Instead of eating at Sara Jane’s, why don’t we drive into York? There’s a new restaurant there I’d like to try, the Red Derby. It’s gotten great reviews. I hear they even have candlelight.”
Was he hinting that this was going to be a romantic dinner?
“So I should dress up?”
“You can wear what you’re wearing tonight. You look gorgeous.”
She felt her cheeks redden. It seemed she couldn’t remember how to accept compliments. “Oh, I think I can manage to not wear the same dress two nights in a row. It’s a date.”
“Good. I’ll make reservations for eight and pick you up at seven. You don’t mind leaving Jazzi alone?”
“I’ll make sure she’s not alone. She’s been talking about staying overnight with a friend to work on a history project. Maybe she can arrange that for tomorrow night. Win-win for both of us.”
“Win-win for all three of us,” he said. “I just saw the gallery owner add red dots to two of the paintings. That means Tessa sold them.”
“She’ll be thrilled.”
As they turned to make their way across the gallery to see which paintings had sold, Daisy noticed the person who was coming in the front door. Detective Rappaport. Just what was he doing here?
Checking up on her aunt? Checking up on her? Maybe wanting to rub elbows with Monica Fitz in a different atmosphere?
As she felt Cade’s arm brush hers, she tried to forget about Detective Rappaport by thinking about Cade’s invitation for tomorrow night. She hoped he wasn’t going to warn her away from the investigation again. It would be good to talk about it with him. On the other hand, she couldn’t tell him about Harvey’s coin.
She didn’t want to start out on the wrong foot wit
h Cade. Keeping secrets wasn’t her style. Yet she had to obey Detective Rappaport’s orders, didn’t she?
* * *
Daisy was deep into preparations at the tea garden on Thursday morning when Tessa came in absolutely glowing. “I sold six paintings last night,” she said happily and threw her arms around Daisy.
“That’s wonderful. Was Reese pleased with the way the show went?”
“He seemed to be. I asked him how many paintings a new artist usually sells, and he said that depends. We have reserved notices on two more. I was a little surprised at the prices that he wanted to ask for the paintings, but he said I can’t sell myself short. He doesn’t run an arts and crafts fair—it’s a gallery. So when customers come in, they expect to pay gallery prices.”
“Lots of people admired your paintings. You could possibly earn commissions from the show too, right?”
“Actually, I had an inquiry—a woman who wanted me to paint her two cats.”
“Are you going to do it?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t want my paintings to be a paint-from-a-photograph kind of art. I’d like to conceptualize the whole scene and then paint it, not always with an animal, though I do like doing them. I have her contact information. I’m going to see what happens with the show and how much time I have. We’re going to get a lot busier here over the holidays, and I might be working extra hours, right?”
“If you want the hours, you can have them. How do you think Foster’s working out?”
“Much more smoothly than I expected. He comes in again this afternoon, doesn’t he?”
“He does. He seems responsible, picks up information quickly, and likes talking to the customers. What more could we want? I’m trying to figure out the best way to look for someone else because I think we’ll need the extra help over the holidays, as you said.”
“Part-time position?”
“I’m thinking maybe someone who can work thirty hours a week.”
“What about putting the tea garden info up at one of the job sites? Or have Foster put a notice on our Trends page. After all, social media is where it’s at. Isn’t that what he says?”
“And he’s doing a good job of it too. When I hired him, I wondered if he was too good to be true. But he’s working out, and that’s what matters.”
She returned to the subject of Tessa’s art. “Will your paintings stay at the gallery over the holidays?”
“Reese will move them around. But, yes, he’ll keep them there until January anyway. Hopefully more will sell. If I get good reviews—and they haven’t come out yet today—he thinks another gallery could pick me up. I suppose I should start preparing for another show.”
“You’re going to be one busy woman.”
“It’s not as if I have anything else going on in my life.”
“Speaking of. Can I borrow one of your scarves? Cade asked me to go to dinner with him tonight in York at the Red Derby.”
“Wow. I’ve heard that place is highfalutin. Crystal, silver, and white tablecloths. You rate.”
Daisy felt a little flustered at the idea. “I don’t know about that, but I do know I want to dress up a bit again. I have a black dress that I think will do, but it needs some color. One of your scarves should do it.”
“On my lunch break, I’ll run up and collect a few. You can take your pick.”
“You’re the best.”
“We’ve been friends a long time, Daisy. We know each other’s past as well as the present.”
Yes, they did know each other’s past. Tessa hadn’t had an easy time growing up, though the impression she gave now was easy-breezy. She was an artist, and there was a reason for that. Her childhood had been an unhappy one, with parents who fought constantly and a dad who hit her mom when he drank too much. Tessa had needed an outlet for emotions she couldn’t share or didn’t know what to do with. That outlet had been her painting. Another outlet had also been her friendship with Daisy. They’d been pinky-swearing friends since third grade, when Tessa’s family had moved into the area. It was satisfying working with her now and still building on their friendship. Adult women needed best friends just as much as third-graders.
Maybe that was one reason Tessa felt free to say to her now, “Let yourself go tonight with Cade, okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you loved Ryan deeply. No one can ever replace him. You’ll never forget him. But I’m sure he’d move over in your heart a little bit so that you can love someone else.”
“And you think Cade’s that person?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“I’ve known Cade since high school, but we never crossed over that barrier of surface conversation. Do you know what I mean?”
“I think I do. When you were in high school, you had a crush on him, so it was hard to talk to him, especially about anything meaningful. And the same was probably true for him. When you moved back here, the conversation was all about real estate and finding you the properties you needed.”
“Exactly. So it just feels kind of strange to be getting all dressed up, going to some swanky place, and sitting across the table from him.”
“Try to just let whatever happens happen. It’s not more complicated than that.”
“This is the voice of experience speaking?”
Tessa shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t have role models to fill me with confidence about finding a life partner, at least one I wanted to spend my entire life with. So dating is not a high priority for me. I’ve got to admit, though, I really like Reese. And not because he’s the gallery owner. He’s just got that ‘it’ I like in men. He’s tall and lean with sandy-brown hair that’s longer than most men in Willow Creek wear theirs. We can talk art all day long and all night long too. But we’re not past talking art yet, and maybe we never will be.”
Iris peeked her head into the kitchen. “The tables are ready, and the cases are full. I’m about ready to turn over the OPEN sign. Are you okay back here?”
“We’re good,” Daisy said, meaning it. “Did Karina arrive yet?”
Karina had agreed to work a full set of hours today. In her twenties, she lived with her mom and had a two-year-old at home. She was a little avant-garde for the tea garden, sometimes dying her hair purple or blue or, this month, fuchsia. But she was a dependable employee, and she worked hard.
Iris answered her question. “She left a voice mail on the tea garden answering machine that she’d be late. She said she tried to phone you last night, but you didn’t call her back.”
Daisy shut her eyes and sighed. “That’s my own fault. I was so tired when we got home, I didn’t even check my phone. I had it turned off during the showing.”
“What if Vi had called?” Iris asked.
“I knew if she couldn’t get me, she’d call Jazzi. But I think she’s too busy to call anybody. Go ahead and open. We’ll just hope we don’t get too busy before Karina arrives.”
They were in the swing of service, Tessa plating, Daisy and Iris serving, Cora Sue selling at the counter, and Eva aiding in all, when Karina rushed in, all apologetic smiles. “I’m so sorry.” Her blue eyes looked it. She went on to explain, “The battery went dead in my car. My dad had to get me a new one this morning. I’m so sorry.”
“Emergencies happen to everyone,” Daisy said. “No worries. You can start preparing the spread for lunch. Make sure the soup is seasoned correctly, and then help Tessa plate. We’re good out front.”
Cora Sue had just rung up another customer at the counter when Daisy skirted it to check on the customers at the tables. One woman raised her hand that she needed more tea. Daisy saw to that quickly. She also brought another scone plate to a table of four and replenished a pot of raspberry curd at another table. She’d hardly noticed who was coming and going until she approached a table with one man sitting at it, with his back to her. She thought she recognized the shape of the head, the set of the shoulders—
When she rounded the table, she
saw Marshall. “Hi! What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d take you up on your offer for a cup of tea and a scone.”
“Terrific. This morning our specialty scones are apple cinnamon.” She pointed to a small placard on the table. “And those are the teas. Pick one, and I’ll make sure it’s brewed perfectly.”
“I’ll go with the Earl Grey this morning.”
“Good choice. I’ll be right back.”
And she was, with one of the vintage teapots that held two cups of tea as well as a plate with three scones. For Marshall, the order was on the house. No arguing about that.
As he motioned to the tea and scones, he asked, “Can you sit with me for a few minutes?”
She took a quick look around, and seeing that everything was in order and everyone was served, she motioned to Iris that she was going to sit at the table. Her aunt gave a nod that she understood and would cover, or else Karina or Tessa would.
“How’s the tea?” she asked.
“As you said it would be. Perfectly brewed. And the scones are delicious. I might have to take some of these along.”
“That’s our aim. It’s called secondary marketing. You eat one here, and you take home a dozen.”
He laughed. “You’re doing a good job at this. I’ll have to come in more often.” Then he grew serious. “But today, I came to give you information as well as to see how your aunt is faring. How is she?”
They both looked toward the counter, where Iris was speaking with a customer.
“She’s pretending she’s fine, but I know she’s deeply affected by all of this, especially finding that coin. She doesn’t know if Harvey meant it for her or if it was just a ploy and he was using her. That’s hard to accept.”
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