Tea Room Toxin: Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mystery #5 (Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mysteries)

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Tea Room Toxin: Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mystery #5 (Missy DeMeanor Cozy Mysteries) Page 5

by Brianna Bates


  She took out an egg roll and held it over the dog.

  “Catch?”

  Cody’s nose twitched as she angled her snout up. Her mouth inched open.

  Missy let the egg roll go and the dog caught it in mid-air. Cody moved away from the table and took the egg roll inside, no doubt to eat it on the carpet.

  “Great.” Missy playfully rolled her eyes while Tyler broke into laughter.

  He always knew just how to make her feel better. He could tell, somehow, that what she needed was to sit in silence and relax. They ate the Chinese slowly. At one point, Tyler went inside and came back out with red wine. As he put a glass in front of her, Tyler kissed the top of her head and moved his chair closer to hers. While she sipped her wine, she held his hand under the table.

  They finished most of the food and sat quietly as the night deepened. The crickets grew quiet for a stretch, then started back up again. Cody eventually returned to the back yard and plopped down next to Missy.

  “So,” Tyler said.

  “So.”

  He got up from his chair and got down on one knee. “Now where were we?”

  All at once, pure joy bubbled up inside her. Missy giggled. She’d been wondering this whole time when he was going to get down on one knee.

  “We were right at the point where I think you had something important to ask me.” She smiled sweetly and turned in her seat to face him.

  “Admit it. This is a little more romantic of a setting than the tea room.”

  She laughed. “I didn’t care. You could have asked me in the bathroom and I would have said—”

  “Stop!” He held up a palm. “I have to ask you before you say yes. That’s how this is supposed to go.”

  “I never knew you were so into tradition.”

  He winked and took out the box. “Melissa, a.k.a. Missy, DeMeanor, my first crush—’

  “Liar,” she said playfully. “Tammy Hogan was your first crush.”

  Tyler kept going like he hadn’t heard her. “My first girlfriend.”

  “Double-liar, I know you kissed—”

  “Melissa, quiet now. I’m trying to say something nice while I propose to you.”

  She giggled, loving their banter like always.

  Tyler continued. “My first love. And my last love.”

  Her heart melted.

  “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  He opened the box. The lighting was very poor in the backyard at night.

  “I can’t even see the ring!” she teased.

  He laughed. “Would it make a difference?”

  “No.” She leaned in and kissed him. “And yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes. And more yes.”

  They kissed again and let their lips linger. Other parts of her came to life. Tyler carefully removed the ring and waited for her to offer her finger.

  “How’d you know my size?” she asked.

  “I am a detective, Melissa.”

  It fit perfectly. Holding it up, the engagement ring dazzled in the porch light. She loved it! He’d gotten her a Princess cut.

  She cried happy tears. Tyler lifted her with his powerful arms. Being a little self-conscious about her weight, she immediately objected. But Tyler hushed her and spun her around. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had picked her up and then realized…

  The last time had been twenty years ago, when Tyler had done it at the lake one night. She loved being in his arms.

  He gently put her down. They looked into each other’s eyes and Missy could not keep her hands off the man. They started to kiss and she was ready to go inside—

  But her phone rang.

  Still giggling, Missy broke away from Tyler. “I don’t want to get that.”

  “But you should,” he said. “Noreen might need your help.”

  She nodded and kissed once more with passion. Tyler groaned when she pulled away.

  “On second thought…” he said.

  Missy grabbed her phone off the table. It wasn’t Noreen calling. It was Marie.

  “Hey, Marie,” Missy said. “What’s up?”

  “Missy, I just got done talking to the cops if you can believe it.”

  “Really?” Missy frowned. “I would have thought they’d save you for last, since you’d never met Tonya before.”

  “I think they moved me up on the list. They asked me a lot of questions about you, especially your relationship with Noreen.”

  “Oh.” Missy sighed. That quickly, the euphoria of just getting engaged dissipated.

  “I knew you and Tonya hated each other, but—”

  “Hated is a strong word,” Missy said, feeling like she had to defend herself. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “I didn’t mean anything, Missy.”

  She chuckled. “Sorry. Guess I’m just on edge with everything that happened today.”

  “I think it was the chemist.”

  “Chemist?” Missy asked, shooting Tyler a look. He watched her with curiosity. “What chemist?”

  “Emile Krauss,” Marie said.

  “Who is that?” Missy asked.

  “High school chemistry teacher. He and Tonya have an interesting history.”

  “How so?”

  “They met years ago, when she started her consulting firm.”

  “How’d they meet?”

  “He wasn’t always a high school chemistry teacher,” Marie said. “He used to work at one of the big pharma companies. That’s how they met. His company was one of Tonya’s clients. She met him during one of her long-term projects.”

  “How do you know all this?” Missy asked, incredulous.

  “People talk, I listen,” Marie said. “Anyway, they hit it off and Emile got her more work there. One thing led to another and they started dating. When Emile’s boss found out about it, the company fired Emile.”

  “Really?”

  “They thought he was throwing her business because he had feelings for her, so they sent him packing. He went to work teaching chemistry to tenth graders, and a couple months later Tonya dumped him.”

  “So why was he there?” Missy asked.

  “They remained friends.”

  “But why would he kill her after all these years?” Missy asked. “If he was still resentful of how things ended, wouldn’t he have done this a long time ago?”

  “All I’m saying is, he’s a chemist and she dumped him years ago when he wasn’t good enough for her anymore.”

  “Who knows?” Missy said rhetorically. “Hopefully the cops will figure it out.”

  “You’re not getting involved?” Marie asked.

  Tyler pulled her close and nibbled on her free ear. It reminded her of the new ring that fit perfectly on her finger.

  “No thanks.” Missy smiled. “I’m going to sit this one out. Besides, why would I risk my perfect four-and-oh homicide record?”

  Marie laughed. “Are you going tomorrow?”

  “Yes.” Missy patted her belly. “See you at WiredFit.”

  They said goodbye and hung up. Missy put her phone back on the table and faced Tyler.

  “Now where were we?”

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning Missy called Mom on her way to work to share the good news.

  “It’s about time that man proposed,” Mom said.

  “Mom, we’ve been dating less than—”

  “I was just kidding.”

  Missy laughed, realizing she’d missed her mother’s trademark dry humor.

  “Is everything okay, Missy?” Mom asked. “You don’t seem yourself.”

  “Mom, I just got engaged. I’m over the moon happy.”

  It was the truth, but it wasn’t the whole truth.

  “You’re not mixed up in Tonya’s murder, are you?”

  “No.” Missy didn’t want her mother to worry. They talked for a few more minutes till Missy pulled into the parking lot for the bookstore.

  She opened Books and Crannies.

  Missy dropped her
stuff in the back and tidied up the store. The shelves were incredibly bare, so she took out extra inventory and filled in the gaps where she could. There wasn’t too much stock left in the back. Only a couple years ago, it had been difficult and sometimes dangerous to walk back there because it was so crowded. The metal shelves used to hold books all the way up to the low ceiling. But now most of those shelves were bare, and the floor was clear and actually looked like it’d been swept up.

  Missy was just sitting down at the front desk, when the bells above the door jingled as her first customer came in. She smiled, grateful for the business. Her last few shifts had been incredibly dull, despite the fact she used the spare time to read—

  “Good morning, Missy,” Detective Bryant said.

  Today he was wearing a pair of black pants and a blue-grey shirt with a bold red tie. Bryant was still sporting the stubble-beard and had his hair slicked back.

  She tried to sound happy to see him. “Good morning, detective.”

  “Long time, no talk.” He continued to smile at her like they were friends. Missy didn’t care for his obvious attempt at manipulation but of course didn’t point it out to him.

  “Yes. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Oh, I was just browsing.” He looked vaguely around the bookstore. “Nice little place you’ve got here.”

  “Thank you. Books and Crannies has been here forever.”

  “It’ll be a shame to see it close then.” His eyes drifted down. “Say, do you have some new hardware there?”

  Missy had no idea what he was talking about at first. “Oh, yes.” She blushed. “I got engaged last night.”

  “Congratulations!” he said, making it sound so sincere. “Who’s the lucky man?”

  She was pretty sure he was playing dumb. They had to know who her boyfriend was.

  “Tyler Brock, he’s the—”

  “Oh right!” He palmed his forehead. “Now I remember. He popped the question last night?”

  Missy nodded. “Actually, he was in the middle of asking me yesterday when…Noreen screamed.”

  Bryant shook his head. “That’s a shame, to have your big moment interrupted by something terrible like that.”

  “Oh, that wasn’t a big deal. I was more upset for Noreen and Tonya than myself.”

  Brett nodded like he admired her selfless attitude. “By the way, is your boss here?”

  “Not yet.” Missy wondered why on earth this man would want to talk to Brett. She’d been open and honest with the detectives yesterday about everything, but they were going to dig deeper. She felt like asking him what he thought about Beth, or Roger, or Grant, or the chemist, Emile Krauss.

  “Oh really? When does he get in then?”

  “He’ll be in around lunch,” Missy said. “Did you want to talk to him? Because I can give you his number.”

  “No, that’s not necessary,” Bryant said, looking around the store again like he was actually interested in picking up a few used books. “I’ll just come back in a little bit. In the meantime, do you mind if I look around?”

  “For books?” Missy asked.

  “What else would I be looking around for?”

  She realized how bad her question had sounded now. She laughed it off. “Of course. That’s what we’re here for.”

  “Thanks.” He stopped mid-turn. “Got anything to recommend?”

  Missy came out from behind the front desk. “What do you like to read?”

  “Please, no thrillers or police procedurals. Writers in their ivory towers always make the dumbest mistakes and it takes me right out of the story. No, I prefer more escapism.”

  “You mean fantasy?”

  “I haven’t read too much fantasy, but that sounds like a good idea. Maybe that?”

  She led him to the sci-fi/fantasy section, which sat near the children’s area. “The authors that sell the most are Jordan, Brooks, Pratchett. They were all the big bestsellers.”

  Bryant eyed some of the titles. “Now I remember why I don’t read too much fantasy. Every book is a thousand pages long and they’re all part of never-ending series.”

  Missy thought about it. “Try David Gemmell. He writes shorter standalones.”

  “Gemmell? Never heard of him.”

  “He was very popular and wrote a lot of books. He passed about ten years ago, I think.”

  Bryant nodded. He found the author on the shelf. “Thanks, Miss. I’ll take a look at a few.”

  ***

  An hour later, Bryant was still browsing. He had about twenty weathered paperbacks in his hands as he made his way into the last aisle.

  Their eyes met, and Bryant smiled apologetically. “See what happens when I step inside a bookstore?”

  She smiled, really just wanting him out of there. “Found quite a few books, didn’t you?”

  He smiled back. Then the door opened and Brett came in. Her boss wore his usual outfit: old, baggy jeans, white t-shirt, grey cardigan, and owl-like glasses.

  “Holy smokes! We’ve got a customer!” Brett came up to the front desk.

  Bryant looked at him. “You must be the owner?”

  “That I am,” Brett said. “But not for long at this rate.”

  Bryant nodded. “I’m a detective with the Castleton Police Department. I’d like to talk to you if I could.”

  Brett’s smile slowly disappeared. “Sure. Is everything alright?”

  Bryant nodded, but his eyes drifted to Missy. “It’s just routine.”

  “What’s this about?”

  “I’d prefer to talk in private,” Bryant said.

  With a confused look on his face, Brett looked at Missy for a moment. “Sure thing, detective. Just give me a moment.”

  Missy had texted Brett yesterday after Tonya had passed away. So she knew he’d make the connection.

  Brett put his keys down on the front desk and led the detective back to his office.

  Chapter Eight

  Missy’s phone rang.

  It was a number she didn’t recognize.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Missy DeMeanor?” A woman’s voice. She barely inflected any of her words.

  “Who’s this?”

  “Is this Missy DeMeanor?”

  Whoever this person was, she probably already knew it was Missy. And if she wasn’t sure, she could just call back and listen to Missy’s recorded voicemail greeting to confirm she had the right number.

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “I know who killed Tonya.”

  Missy gasped. The stranger’s words left her speechless for a moment. “Then you should call the police right now.”

  “They know too,” the woman said. “It’s only a matter of time before they catch the person.”

  “So why are you calling me?” Missy asked.

  “I think you know.”

  “No, I really don’t.” She glanced over in the direction of Brett’s office. He and the detective had been back there for a solid thirty minutes by now. She wondered what they were discussing.

  “Don’t be coy. We both know why I’m calling.”

  “I have no idea why,” Missy said. She decided to take a shot in the dark. “Beth.”

  The woman didn’t confirm or deny her identity. “Poison is a terrible way to die.”

  Missy said nothing. This was all a trap and the less she spoke, the better. But at the same time, she wanted to get information out of this woman. Most importantly her identity.

  “Did you kill Tonya?” Missy asked.

  “Stop,” the woman snapped.

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop playing games with me. We both know who killed Tonya.”

  “You’re the one playing games,” Missy said. “You won’t share your identity and you accuse me without coming out and saying what you’re really thinking. Goodbye.”

  “Wait.”

  “What?”

  The woman paused for a long time. “I’m going to get you.”

&nb
sp; Before Missy could answer, the woman ended the call. Missy immediately called the number back, hoping to get to a voicemail that would divulge the identity of the person. But the phone rang for a long time and voicemail never picked up. She jotted the phone number down on a sticky note.

  Brett’s door opened, and the two men came out joking about the upcoming basketball season and how the 76ers didn’t have a prayer. Missy pretended to be busy with something at the front desk.

  The detective shook Brett’s hand. Missy didn’t really want to talk to the detective, but if the strange phone call she got came out later it would be viewed skeptically. She was about to say something, when Brett signaled her.

  “Missy, you and I need to talk.”

  Bryant smiled at her on his way out. She really thought she should speak to Bryant, but Brett stood by her, insistent in a way he’d never really been.

  Brett glanced around the store. “Any customers?”

  She shook her head no. That had been the standard response for a long time. Brett’s eyes were both serious and touched with sadness.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Brett sighed. “I just had an interesting conversation with Detective Bryant.”

  She didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Had the detective suggested she was a suspect in Tonya’s death? It was the last thing Brett needed to worry about in a store that was not so slowly dying.

  “Oh yeah?” she asked.

  He nodded stoically then sat next to her.

  “He wanted to know how much longer the bookstore had.”

  Her stomach lurched. “And what did you tell him?”

  Brett made a face. “Sorry, Miss. I planned on telling you later this week after the deal had been finalized, but I’m selling the property.”

  Missy’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God.”

  Brett nodded. “Last two months we didn’t break even. I’m sorry, Miss.”

  Her head was swimming. Even though she’d known this was coming for a long time, this was still a bit of a surprise. She couldn’t believe Books and Crannies, a fixture in Grove City for decades, would soon be shuttered.

  “When?”

  He sighed. “I’d like you to stay on till the end, Missy. But I understand if something comes up for you and you have to leave right away. We’ve got sixty days. Next week I’m going to start the going-out-of-business sale.”

 

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