Hot Cider and a Murder

by Kathleen Suzette

  Chapter Four

  “I still can’t believe it,” Stormy said. We were at our friend Agatha Broome’s coffee shop, the British Tea and Coffee Company, sitting at a corner table. Stormy, Agatha, and me, each of us with coffees sitting in front of us. Poor Stormy still hadn’t recovered from the shock of seeing Daphne Richards dead on the floor.

  Agatha reached her hand out and patted the back of Stormy’s hand. “You poor dear. I’m sorry you went through that,” she said in her crisp British accent.

  We looked up as my mother entered the coffee shop. She smiled when she saw the three of us in the corner and headed in our direction.

  “Hello, ladies,” Mom said, placing her purse on the floor beneath the table. “Let me get a coffee and I’ll join you.” She began to turn away, then caught the look on Stormy’s face. “What’s going on here? Stormy, you look like you just lost your best friend.”

  “Daphne Richards died at the annual fall party last night,” I told her.

  “And I found her body,” Stormy added, nodding. Her bottom lip trembled for just a second, then she got ahold of herself.

  “Daphne’s dead? And you found her body?” Mom said, changing her mind and slipping into the empty chair at the table.

  Stormy nodded again as her face crumpled. She almost broke into tears, but then she gathered herself again. “I’ve never seen a dead body before. At least, not one that wasn’t at a funeral.”

  “It was pretty rough,” I said to Mom. “I feel terrible for Daphne’s family. It was her father’s birthday.”

  “She died on her father’s birthday? How terrible. What happened to her?” Mom asked.

  “We don’t know. She was drinking a lot at the fall party. She did argue with her sister-in-law and some guy, but I think that was due to too much alcohol. Other than that, we didn’t notice anything unusual. Everyone was having a good time,” I said, filling her in.

  “How awful. Dying on her father’s birthday is going to make every birthday terrible for the rest of his life,” Mom said sadly. “What does Cade say about it?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to speak to him this morning. He stayed late at the lodge to finish things up, and he hasn’t answered my text yet,” I said.

  “Let me get you a coffee, Mary Ann,” Agatha offered, getting to her feet. “The usual?”

  “Yes, thank you, Agatha,” Mom said. “The poor thing. She was so young. And her poor parents. Losing a daughter that was so young, what a terrible thing.” She shook her head.

  We looked up as Cade walked through the door. He saw us sitting together, and he gave me a lopsided grin and headed over to us.

  “I thought I’d find you here,” he said and pulled a chair from the table next to ours and sat down as we scooted over to make room for him.

  “What do you know about how Daphne died?” I asked.

  “It’s far too early to come to any conclusions at this point,” he said. He glanced around the table. “We’ll get it figured out.”

  “Did her parents say she had any illnesses?” I asked him.

  “No, they said she was healthy as can be,” he said.

  “Then she was killed? Who would want to kill her?” Stormy asked quietly. “She seemed like a nice girl. Just a regular person.” She looked down at her coffee and gave it a stir.

  “You never know what’s going on in a person’s private life,” I said.

  “Now, hold on you two. It’s a little early to jump to that conclusion,” Cade warned mildly.

  Agatha returned to the table with two cups of coffee. “Good morning, Detective. I’ve taken the liberty of making a coffee for you as well as my friend, Mary Ann here,” she said and set one cup in front of Cade and the other in front of my mother. “I hope I got it right. On the house for both of you.”

  “That’s kind of you, Agatha,” he said with a smile. “I could use the pick-me-up. Tell me, did you know Daphne Richards well?”

  “She came in here almost every day,” Agatha said. “She seemed like a sweet girl. Was it foul play?”

  He sighed. “It’s possible,” he said, glancing at me. “It’s a bit premature to know that for sure. Not that we are going to let any of this get around just yet.”

  She nodded. “I understand. All I really know about Daphne was that she was very competitive in everything she did. She went to the girls’ state championship in high school for track. No one could beat her. I think she was also very competitive where her job was concerned. I heard her talking on the phone a couple of times, and she seemed almost obsessed with getting what she wanted. She was in sales. Software, if I remember right.”

  “She was competitive?” Cade asked, thinking about this. “I suppose a position in sales is commission- or bonus-based and that would make a person competitive.”

  Agatha nodded. “She was trying to get a contract with a security firm, from the sound of it. There was some sort of software for home security that her company had developed, and there was a large contract at stake. She said another employee with her company was after the very same contract. She was angry. It was a very long conversation that she didn’t seem to mind anyone overhearing. I never did find out if she got it or not. I guess I forgot about it until now.”

  “That’s good information to know,” Cade said thoughtfully.

  “I remember when she was in high school. Seems like there was a write-up in the local newspaper about her nearly every week during the track season, if I remember right,” Mom said. “Her parents are such nice people. I sure do feel bad for them.”

  “They do seem like nice people,” Cade said. “It’s a shame.”

  “Competitiveness can get a person in trouble,” I pointed out. “Maybe she came up against the wrong person.”

  Cade leaned back in his chair and took a big sip of his coffee. “Agatha, you make the best cup of coffee in Sparrow.”

  “Oh, Detective, you make an old woman want to blush,” she said as pink crept into her cheeks. Agatha did make the best cup of coffee in Sparrow, and most people knew it. Her coffee shop was always busy.

  “Rainey, I might not have any free time to help you with those floors for a while,” he remarked.

  “I completely understand. I’ll try to wait until you do get time. Otherwise, I might rent a sander and see if I can manage it.”

  “I can come and help you,” Stormy offered.

  “That would be great,” I said. “I’d love to have them done before the holidays if at all possible.”

  “Then we’ll plan on getting some work done later this week. Well, I better get going,” Stormy said. “I’ve got a to-do list a mile long today.”

  Mom got to her feet along with her. “And I better get back to the flower shop. I hate to leave the girls alone for long.”

  There was a line at the front counter, and Agatha looked over at it. “I guess I better go help out.”

  Cade watched them go, then turned to me. “Wow. It’s almost like it was planned.”

  I shrugged. “Great planning then. What’s really going on?”

  “They’re rushing the autopsy. With her being in good health, it looks like it may be poisoning. Some of the employees at the lodge said she was staggering and that she had trouble breathing shortly before she died. One of the employees said she ignored her when she pointed out how hard she was breathing.”

  “It wasn’t from having drunk too much alcohol?” I asked.

  “Two of the employees said they didn’t think so. One, the dishwasher, said he thought she was acting very strangely. You know they all had to have seen her drunk before, so whatever it was they saw last night, it was different.”

  “Wow. Any idea what it might have been?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I have no idea, really. They could be mistaken. Maybe she had some sort of health issue that sprang up suddenly.”

  I thought about it. “She must have been drinking a lot last night. I guess alcohol would disguise the taste of poison?”

  �
�Probably. Especially if she was already drunk by the time it was given to her,” he said, “but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We need that autopsy to know for sure.”

  “That means the killer was at the party,” I said, thinking over all the people I saw the night before.

  “Most likely. But again, you’re rushing things.” He looked at me, tilting his head to the side.

  I was undaunted. “There must have been over a hundred people at the party by the time things really got going,” I observed. “Wouldn’t there be something sitting around—a cup or container with the remnants of the poison in it? Oh, and she argued with her sister-in-law and some guy that I didn’t know.”

  “There was a Styrofoam cup in the hallway where we found her. We’ll test it and see if it has any residue left in it. Of course, we’re just hoping it was her cup,” he said. “It’s not going to be easy figuring it out, but we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  “What about her sister-in-law? And that guy?”

  “Her sister-in-law says she’s innocent, and I haven’t talked to a guy,” he said with a smirk.

  I rolled my eyes. “So you do think it was poison? Whoever did it must have something really big against Daphne. Not just some small grudge, but something big enough for them to plan her death and then carry it out.”

  He sighed and then nodded. “I agree. If it’s murder, they had to have something big against her.”

  “I guess that’s our first order of business then. Find someone that really hated her,” I said. “Cade, I’m going to ask around about Daphne, if you don’t mind.” I really didn’t care if he minded. I was going to ask anyway.

  He studied me a moment. “You be careful. Don’t make anyone mad.”

  “I won’t. People like me. They’ll tell me anything.”

  He sighed and took a sip of his coffee. “Just be careful, Rainey.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  Chapter Five

  I couldn’t get poor Bryan Richards out of my head. His birthday would forever remind him of the death of his daughter. I did the only thing I could think of and baked a chocolate cake and took it to the family. They probably wouldn’t feel like eating, but it would be there if they wanted it later.

  Bryan’s son Mark Richards answered the door.

  “Hello, Mark, I’m so sorry about your sister. I wanted to stop by and see how your family was doing,” I said. It felt important to stop by because the Richardses were some of the nicest people in Sparrow.

  Mark’s face looked drawn and tired. “Thanks, Rainey. I appreciate that. Would you like to come in?”

  I nodded and followed him into the house. The Richardses owned a private house that sat behind the lodge. It was an expansive house that had a wrap-around porch and was decorated for fall with pumpkins, Halloween decorations, and a large wreath on the front door. The planters out front had fall flowers in orange, gold, and blue that wouldn’t last much longer as the weather turned colder.

  “I brought a chocolate cake. I know it isn’t much,” I offered. It always felt inadequate to bring food to a grieving family, but it was what people did around here and I wasn’t going to show up empty-handed.

  “That’s kind of you, thanks,” he said and took the cake from me. “My parents are out right now. Let me put this cake in the kitchen. Would you like some coffee? I made a fresh pot if you’d like to come and get some.”

  “That would be nice,” I said and followed him into the kitchen.

  He set the cake on the counter and got cups out of the cupboard. “Cream and sugar?” he asked, handing me a cup. “Help yourself.” He indicated the nearly full pot of coffee on the counter.

  “Yes, please,” I said and poured myself a cup.

  He got a carton of cream from the refrigerator and a sugar bowl from the counter and set them on the kitchen table. Then he poured himself a cup of coffee, and we sat at the table.

  The tablecloth was a floral print, and cloth napkins sat at each place, ready and waiting.

  “Have the police told you anything?” I asked gently, stirring sugar into my coffee.

  He shook his head. “They think she might have been murdered. Can you believe that?” he asked, his eyes taking on a glassy look. “I don’t know who would do something like that.”

  “It is hard to believe,” I said. “I don’t know who would want to do that to poor Daphne.”

  He poured cream into his cup of coffee and was quiet a moment. “Daphne was always the life of the party. She always had something nice to say to everyone. Always laughing.” He shook his head. “But I don’t know why they think she was murdered. She didn’t have any enemies. Everyone loved her.”

  “She did have that quality, didn’t she? She could make people feel special just by talking to them.” It was something I had forgotten about Daphne. When she wasn’t drinking, she was a sweet person.

  He nodded and looked at me again. “It makes it worse that it happened on my dad’s birthday. He’ll never celebrate a birthday again. I know him. He will always be reminded of what happened to Daphne.”

  “That’s really a hard one. I wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to celebrate his birthday. I wouldn’t want to either,” I said and took a sip of my coffee.

  His hands wrapped around his coffee cup. “Personally, I don’t think Daphne was murdered. I think the medical examiner will find out she had some sort of medical defect we weren’t aware of. It’s not like that detective has the ability to say how she died,” he said, looking me in the eye.

  “I’m sure he’s waiting on the autopsy to know for sure,” I said. Cade had been a detective for years, and I thought he had a good eye for details. If he thought there might be foul play involved, then I believed him. But I wasn’t going to argue with a grieving man.

  “But you know, if someone did kill her, I could take a guess as to who it might have been,” he said, still looking at me levelly.

  I slowly shook my head. “Who?”

  “Jack Farrell. Her ex-boyfriend.”

  I tried to remember who that was. “I’m not sure if I know him.”

  “He owns a photography business on Center Street. They were together for a year, but she broke up with him. She said he was pressuring her to marry him and she didn’t want to. She said she didn’t know if he was the one.”

  “Was he at the party?” I asked.

  He nodded and took another drink of his coffee. “He was the tall redheaded guy. You couldn’t miss him.”

  The mystery of who the guy Daphne was arguing with was solved. Jack Farrell was handsome and stood a good bit over six feet tall. “I did see him. He looked familiar. Is he from Sparrow?”

  “No, he moved here a few years ago. He had pestered Daphne to go out with him for at least a year before she finally did. Daphne was seeing someone else. She kept refusing Jack, but he persisted. He was like that. Persistent. When she broke up with her boyfriend, she gave in to Jack.”

  “Why do you think he would want to kill her?” I asked.

  “Because he wanted her back, but she refused to come back to him. She said he turned mean when he didn’t get what he wanted, and he wanted her.”

  I considered this. A bad breakup could have made him want to kill her, but it didn’t sound like that was enough motive from what Mark was saying.

  “What kind of man is he? Did she say? When things were going well, how did they get along?”

  “She said she didn’t understand why she stayed with him as long as she did. He could be moody and angry. But most of the time he was fine. I don’t know. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but my family has just been torn apart. And whoever is the cause of it needs to be put in jail for a very long time.”

  I reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “I don’t blame you at all. This is a terrible tragedy for your family to endure. I know the police are looking into it. They’ll find the killer.”

  He gave a curt nod of his head, his cheeks turning bright pink from emotion. “I
know the police will do everything they can. I guess there’s still a chance that it wasn’t murder. Who knows? Maybe she had some sort of deadly allergy that she wasn’t aware of?”

  The back door opened, and Mark’s brother Tim walked into the kitchen. He stopped when he saw me, his eyes red and puffy, and he looked away.

  “Hello, Tim,” I said gently. “I’m really sorry for your loss.”

  He looked at me and nodded, but avoided eye contact. “Thanks, Rainey. I can’t get over it.”

  “Mark and I were saying the same thing. You know if my me or my family can help in any way, we’ll be there for you.”

  He nodded. “I appreciate that,” he said, his voice turning husky. “Excuse me.”

  I watched as he hurried form the room, and it brought tears to my eyes.

  “He’s having a hard time of it,” Mark said quietly.

  “That’s completely understandable,” I said, blinking back the tears. “So Daphne didn’t have any health issues at all?”

  “No. Nothing. She was in great shape and she ate right. She was still a runner. It was her sport in high school.”

  “I remember. How old was she?”

  “Twenty-six. I’m twenty-five and my brother is twenty-eight,” he said thoughtfully. “We were like the three musketeers when we were kids. We did an awful lot together. Everyone in school knew us. They knew you didn’t mess with one of us or the other two would come after you.”

  “It must have been great being so close,” I said. “My sister and I share the same kind of closeness, of course, being twins.”

  He smiled and nodded. “I can see that.”

  I took another sip of my coffee. “If there’s anything you or your brother or parents need, I’ll do my best to help out where I can.”

  “That’s kind of you,” he said. “I don’t know. I just can’t get it out of my head. I really think Jack would be her killer—if she were murdered, that is. I think he had to have planned the whole thing.”