by Cindy Stark
Blessed Mother, help her.
She worked to steady her mind and took slow, even breaths.
Where had Florence gone? And why wasn’t she still asleep?
At least she hadn’t caught Hazel. Yet.
She could leave right now and most likely slip out unseen. If someone saw her, she could say she’d been worried about Florence and had returned.
With that settled, she turned to leave.
Then the stupid voice inside reminded her she’d made it this far undetected. She could still take a quick glance around and use the excuse of looking for Florence if anyone found her.
As long as they didn’t catch her opening drawers.
For several long moments, she hovered in the hall, listening for any sign that someone else might be on the same floor. Nothing.
With her heart thudding, Hazel sneaked down the hall to where Mr. Winthrop had spent his time. She entered his bedroom and softly closed the door behind her. From there, she walked swiftly to his bedside to check the nightstand for the prescription bottle.
Nothing there.
She searched his dresser, closet, and even under the bed, and came up empty-handed.
A creak that seemed to come from the hall brought her to an abrupt halt. She froze. Her lungs burned for air to compensate for her racing pulse, but she didn’t dare breathe for several long seconds.
No further noises followed.
Cursed old house.
After another minute of listening to silence passed, she crept toward the bedroom door. She gently placed her ear against the wood.
Still nothing.
She needed to keep her wits and not freak out.
With her breaths coming easier, she ducked into his bathroom where the contents of his medicine cabinet still sat on the vanity next to the sink. Earlier she’d looked only for ibuprofen, but she now took her time and read each label.
Still, no Viagra.
No sign of it anywhere else in the bathroom, either.
Where would a man like Albert Winthrop keep them? He’d obviously taken one the morning he’d died because she quite vividly recalled that his…member had remained stiff, even as he’d succumbed to death.
Hazel hadn’t been with Florence for too long on that day before they’d heard the commotion. He had to have popped one not too much earlier than that, she’d guess.
An image of Mr. Winthrop hunched behind the wheel of his Mercedes as he forced her off the driveway flashed in her mind.
He’d been out somewhere prior to his time with Rachel and his following death. Maybe the pills were in his car?
Even if someone had poisoned his medication and that’s what had killed him, that didn’t mean it was Florence, she reasoned as she crept down the stairs, cringing when they creaked.
With no one in sight, she slipped out the front door undetected.
She crossed the drive to the large garage where Mr. Winthrop had kept multiple fancy cars. The side door opened easily, and she slipped right in.
Smells of grease and gasoline greeted her as she stepped farther into the darkened structure.
“Hello?” she called. While Mr. Winthrop had been alive, Mick Ramsey had spent a fair amount of time in this building and the one next door that housed the gardening tools. But as of late, he hadn’t had much call to wash or fuel the cars for anyone’s use.
She waited a few more seconds and then called again. “Mick, are you here?”
When she received no response, she strode toward the black Mercedes parked near the front of the garage.
The driver’s door wasn’t locked, so she opened it and sat on the seat. She checked the center console and gasped when she found the bottle of pills tucked away there. She really hadn’t expected to be so lucky.
She pocketed them and stepped from the car.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Mick appeared from between two cars and moved toward her in a way that left her on edge.
“I…was looking for Mrs. Winthrop’s reading glasses.”
He eyed her up and down in a very disrespectful and disgusting way. “Is that so? Did you find them?”
“No.” She prayed the bottle of pills burning in her pocket didn’t present too big of a bulge.
He snorted. “You honestly want me to believe that she asked you to look in a car that she’s never once been in?”
Hazel went for the innocent shrug. “I’ve looked everywhere else.”
“Uh-huh.” He strode forward and grabbed her by the elbow.
She struggled to free herself, but his fingers dug deeper.
“I think you and me should go have a talk with the lady of the house right now, don’t you? If she agrees, no problem. If not, I think she has the right to know she has a thief on her hands.”
Hazel scrunched her features in disbelief as he jerked her toward the exit. “You think I was ransacking their vehicles, searching for…what?”
“Hard to tell what you might find in there. Mr. Winthrop always had cash if nothing else.”
“This is ridiculous.” She tried to jerk free again as they approached the front of the house. “You’re hurting me.”
“Just doing my job, protecting the property.”
“You weren’t hired to protect their property, or watch Mr. Winthrop’s private activities.” She should have left Rachel out of it, but her anger had trumped her common sense.
“I see you’ve talked to Rachel. Friends, are you?” he leered at her. “Close friends, maybe? Witchy friends, even.”
She punched at him with her free hand, but he caught it before she could do damage.
He pulled her inside the door, and pushed her to the hard, granite floor in the foyer. “Mrs. Jones,” he hollered as he glared down at her.
A moment later, the woman appeared from the kitchen, and Hazel got to her feet. Her gaze jumped from Hazel to Mick. “What on earth is going on?”
“Found her ransacking the cars in the garage. Claims she was looking for Mrs. Winthrop’s glasses.”
“In the cars?” she asked Hazel with a puzzled look.
“I’d looked everywhere else,” she repeated, knowing her answer wouldn’t save her from damnation. She could only hope that Peter would rescue her once they called the police.
Mick snorted his disbelief. “Call the cops. I’ll get Mrs. W. I think she’d like to know if this one has been taking advantage of her.”
“Oh, come on,” Hazel retorted. “If anyone would take advantage of her, it would be you.”
Mrs. Jones shook her head in disappointment and headed toward the kitchen to call the police.
Hazel glared at Mick. “I wasn’t looking to steal anything.”
He smirked. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”
“What on earth is all the yelling?” Florence appeared from the direction of the parlor and then widened her eyes when she spotted Hazel. “Hazel, dear. What are you doing here?”
Teddy came up behind her, surprising Hazel even more. Guilt and shame surely were written all over her face. Not for the reasons Mick expected, but it would be there all the same.
“I caught her in the garage trying to steal from you,” Mick said before she could answer.
Hazel caught Florence’s gaze and shook her head. “No.”
Florence frowned and turned to her driver. “What is this nonsense that you’re spouting, Mick?”
He cleared the dark hair from his eyes with a toss of his head. “Found this one rifling through Mr. Winthrop’s Mercedes. She claims she was looking for your reading glasses.”
“And?” Florence asked without missing a beat.
Hazel could scarcely breathe.
Mick’s demeanor deflated. “Did you ask her to?”
“Yes.”
The look on his face was beyond priceless. “In the car?”
She huffed impatiently. “I believe I just said yes. Do you have another concern?”
He took a step back. “No, ma’am.”
�
�Then I’m sure you have better things to do than harass me and my dear friend.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He departed, and Hazel wished she could have felt relieved. Florence eyed her for a long moment before she spoke.
“I know you, Hazel, and I know you wouldn’t steal. So, would you care to tell me what exactly you were doing in Albert’s car?”
Nineteen
Hazel looked at Florence, and her heart broke. She flicked a glance at Teddy, not wanting to say anything in front of him, but she didn’t seem to have a choice. “I don’t want to tell you because you will hate me.”
The poor, withered woman gave her a kind smile and held out her hand. “Of course, I won’t hate you. Come and tell me so we can get past this nonsense and get back to being friends.”
Hazel did as she asked and almost cried when Florence wrapped her cool fingers around her hand. Hazel squeezed and released a worried sigh. “I found something in your room earlier that troubled me. A pill. A blue pill.”
Hazel paused to glance at Teddy for a reaction, but his expression remained the same.
“It wasn’t one of your medications,” Hazel continued. “So, I took it, and I asked…a friend if he knew what it was.”
“I suspect he said Viagra,” she responded.
“Yes,” Hazel answered in surprise. She held tighter to the woman’s hand. “Why would you have Viagra? You said you hadn’t been close to Mr. Winthrop for quite some time.”
She paused, not wanting to ask, but knowing she couldn’t stop now. “Does it belong to Teddy?”
Teddy snorted. “I don’t need Viagra.”
Florence blushed but didn’t glance at him. “No.” She stared at the floor for several long moments and then turned to her friend and gave him a mournful smile. “I wish they were yours.”
Teddy’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “Florence? Why didn’t you ever say anything? You know I would have taken you away from that bastard in a heartbeat.”
Utter sadness consumed Florence’s features. “I lost my chance for happiness a long time ago. If I would have left Albert for you, he would have made both our lives a living hell, and you deserved better.”
“Better?” The word exploded from him. “This life I have is a shell of what it could have been with you in it. You know I have money, Florence. We could have moved somewhere else.”
The older woman shook her head. “Wouldn’t matter. He would have gone after your business, tried to hurt you or me any way that he could. He threatened me numerous times saying he would have been relentless. I believed him.”
Hazel’s stomach twisted into an aching knot, and she wished she could go back several hours and make a different choice after she’d noticed the pill. “So, the Viagra was Mr. Winthrop’s then?” she asked quietly.
Slowly, Florence met Hazel’s gaze. “Were the rest of them in his car?” she asked instead of answering.
Hazel nodded.
Florence gave a derisive snort. “I should have known. I only coated a couple of them with poison, so I wouldn’t know when it was coming. I asked him to stop the affair. If he had, he’d still be here.”
Her gaze teetered on the edge of reality. “He always kept them in his medicine cabinet, but after he died, they were gone. I searched this house from top to bottom. I thought maybe Rachel had taken them after…after…well, you know.”
Tears welled in Hazel’s eyes. “You poisoned him?”
She stared at her for a long time, and then her eyes filled with tears as well. She nodded. “He was an awful man, Hazel. I won’t tell you the things he’s done to me. But I married him, so I put up with them. But the day he publicly humiliated me in front of everyone, in front of Teddy—”
Teddy placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and a sob escaped her. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand as though that would prevent another from doing the same.
But it didn’t.
Teddy pulled her into his arms, and she released what must have been years of torment.
Florence had committed murder.
Hazel squeezed her eyes shut, knowing her dear elderly friend was going to jail, or at least she would receive some sort of punishment.
But Hazel couldn’t find any anger in her heart toward her. Instead, she moved closer and placed a hand on the poor, abused woman’s back. “Shh…” she whispered as anguish filled the room. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I couldn’t take it anymore,” Florence said between ragged breaths. “He bragged about the women he slept with. Told me all about Rachel, and how she was so pretty, and if I’d just take better care of myself. And then he’d hit me. And…” She broke off into another sob.
The doorbell rang, followed by several adamant knocks, startling Hazel but they didn’t seem to faze Florence in the least. She was too lost in her grief.
Hazel opened the door to find Peter. Concern colored his features, and his right hand hovered on his hip near his gun.
“Hazel.” He glanced beyond her. “Is everything okay?”
The heartbreak she’d absorbed combined with her own and overwhelmed her. She shook her head and stepped back to let him enter. “It was Florence. She’s the one who poisoned her husband.”
Peter’s expression broke into sadness as he took in the scene. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to Hazel. “I know she’s your friend.”
Without warning, he pulled her in for a hug.
Hazel knew she should push away, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Not for a few more seconds. She needed someone to share her grief with as well.
“Are you here to arrest me?” Florence asked in a tear-stained voice.
Hazel slipped from Peter’s embrace and moved to Florence’s side.
Peter released a pained sigh. “The crime needs to be answered for. Even if you had a good reason.”
Hazel patted her and did her best to absorb the grief pouring off her friend. “The chief is a good man. He will do what he can to help you.”
Peter nodded in agreement.
“I’ll be here for you, too,” Teddy promised.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I know. Thank you. I don’t deserve you all.” She swiped shaking, fragile fingers across her face and sniffed. “Do you think we could wait a bit first?”
They all looked to the poor woman, waiting for an explanation.
“Could Hazel make me tea one last time, and we can sit here together for just a little while? For once, I would like to know what it’s like to be free from him and free from carrying the burden of what I’ve done.”
Peter didn’t hesitate. “I don’t see a problem with that.”
Florence turned to Hazel with a questioning look.
“Of course.” Hazel gave her a fierce hug. “Of course, we can. I’ll have Mrs. Jones heat the water, and we’ll chat like old friends for as long as you want.”
Florence nodded with gratitude shimmering in her eyes. “Thank you.”
Teddy wrapped an arm about her waist. “Let me help you into the parlor.” Together, the two of them walked away, leaving Hazel alone with Peter.
Hazel dabbed at her tears. “Breaks my heart.”
“Mine, too,” Peter said and focused a closer gaze on her. “You okay?”
She ached to reach for him, to claim more of the comfort he’d offered her. But she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. “I’ll be okay. I should probably get that tea made.”
“Yeah.” He glanced about the area as though making an assessment. “I have some things to take care of. How about I come back in a couple of hours. I’m not worried about Florence being a flight risk.”
Her heart reached for him like she wished she could. “That’s very kind.”
He dipped his head in acknowledgement. “I’ll see you in a while.”
With that, he left, taking a piece of her heart with him.
Epilogue
“Hazel?” Gretta called from the front of the teashop. “Phone call.”
Haze
l had been so absorbed in her current tea creation, a blend of youthberry white tea and orange blossom herbal tea, that she hadn’t heard the phone ring. She quickly scribbled where she’d stopped with the planned ingredients and headed out to the front of the store.
Gretta gave her a conspiratorial wink as she handed over the phone.
The wink gave it away, and she paused to steady her nerves. She hadn’t talked to Peter for over a week. “Hello?”
“Hazel?” The rumble of Peter’s sexy voice did that crazy thing to her stomach that it always did.
“Hello, Chief Parrish.” She shot a narrow-eyed glare toward her smirking assistant.
“I wondered if you wanted to take a walk with me.”
Blessed Mother, he knew exactly how to get to her. “Of course, we have plenty of that blend on the shelves.”
“Same place as last time?”
“Sure. I don’t mind bringing it over now. I know how much Margaret likes her tea, and you’re very kind to think of her.”
“Thirty minutes?”
“That should work. I’ll just leave it with Margaret then.”
He chuckled. “One of these days, you’re going to have to give up the ghost, Hazel. People are smarter than you think.”
Even though a retort burned on her tongue, she held the polite smile on her face. “Thanks again for calling. I appreciate your business.” She hung up the phone without waiting for him to say goodbye.
If she couldn’t argue with him, she could at least get the last word.
She placed the phone back under the counter and headed toward their stocked shelves in search of the tea she pretended she’d promised to deliver.
“Hot date?” Gretta called after her.
She rolled her eyes even though her assistant couldn’t see her. She grabbed a tin of Majestic Mint and headed back to the counter. “I wish you all would stop trying to make something out of nothing. Chief Parrish is a nice man, but there’s absolutely nothing between us.”
Nothing but pure, old-fashioned, dangerous chemistry. “So, stop already.”
“Mmm-hmm…” Gretta mumbled and grinned, but she wouldn’t meet Hazel’s gaze.
“It’s almost four,” Hazel said as she gathered her coat and scarf. “I think I’ll knock off for the day after I drop this off. I need to return a book to the library, and the afternoon seems pretty slow.”