Murder with Cinnamon Scones

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Murder with Cinnamon Scones Page 11

by Karen Rose Smith


  Tessa started to apologize. “I’m so sorry she did that. Maybe I shouldn’t even come to work.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Daisy protested. “You work here. You have every right to be here.”

  The tea garden had emptied out with the commotion. After glancing around, Daisy said, “Aunt Iris, Eva, and Cora Sue can finish cleaning up and taking inventory. Just leave the clipboard on the counter. Why don’t you help me hang these quilted wall hangings the customers can purchase. It will be a good advertisement for the Quilt Lovers Weekend. It will be here before we know it.”

  She kept talking and beckoned to Tessa, who followed her into the spillover tea room. A box lay on one of the tables with the wall hangings. White shelves ran across two walls, holding an assortment of teapots and teacups. The shelves sported pegs underneath where Daisy and her staff could hang decorative items like potholders or wall hangings.

  Daisy stretched a wall hanging between her arms. “These are about two feet wide, so if we put the string in the back over three of the pegs, they should hang just right. Don’t you think?”

  “I suppose,” Tessa said, sounding disinterested.

  “Do you want to be the one who crawls up on the chair or should I?” Daisy asked.

  That seemed to take Tessa’s attention. “We should really get the stepstool. Neither of us needs to fall right now.”

  “Good idea,” Daisy agreed. “Why don’t you pick out six wall hangings you like the best, and I’ll get the stepstool from the pantry. Be right back.”

  Knowing that keeping Tessa busy doing something was the best way to keep her mind off of Chloie Laird, she hurried to fetch the stepstool. When she returned to the yellow room, Tessa had made her choices. All of the wall hangings could go anywhere, really. They had a multitude of colors that fit in with the painted teacups and teapots and the décor of the room.

  Through the bay window, Daisy could see dusk falling. “We have a little more daylight than in December.”

  “You’re an optimist. It’s only about three minutes more a day,” Tessa said acerbically.

  “But each day gets a little longer. I look forward to that.”

  Tessa held up a wall hanging in a star pattern using shades of green, yellow, and orange. Then she headed up the stepstool.

  Daisy held the back of the stool, steadying it as Tessa hung the wall hanging on the pegs.

  Her friend said nonchalantly, “I went by Jonas’s store earlier today.”

  “And?” Daisy asked.

  “You should see the chairs he has on display. The backs and seats aren’t upholstered with fabric but rather quilts. They’re absolutely beautiful. You should stop in and see them.”

  “I imagine I’ll see them sometime,” Daisy said.

  “You and Jonas seemed to be getting along well last night.”

  “I never know what to expect with Jonas, that’s for sure.”

  “I love the teapot he gave you. I guess you’re going to keep that one at home.”

  “I certainly am. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to it.”

  “But you’re going to use the teacups and saucers in here?”

  “I might pick out a few of those to keep at home, too. That was such a sweet idea. I appreciate each one of them, whether it was from a flea market, an antique shop, or over-the-counter department store. They’re all beautiful.”

  Tessa descended the stepstool and picked up the next wall hanging. “I know what your mom was probably telling you.”

  Daisy didn’t comment as Tessa hung the next wall hanging.

  Returning to the floor again, her friend said, “I’m sure your mother told you you should fire me.”

  “She didn’t say that,” Daisy protested. “She certainly knows better than to say anything like that.”

  “Then what did she say?”

  Daisy and Tessa had been friends for so long that she knew only the truth would do. “She said I should stay far away from anything to do with the murder.”

  “And she’s probably right.”

  “No, I don’t think she is, Tessa. You’re my friend, and you’re in trouble.”

  “I know. I’m so scared the police are going to arrest me. What will I do?”

  “You’ll have Marshall by your side, and me and Aunt Iris, Jonas and Cade. You aren’t alone.”

  “I certainly will be if I’m in jail.”

  “That’s why I’d like to ask around and maybe find out more about Reese’s background. There’s no harm in that.”

  “I suppose not,” Tessa agreed.

  When Tessa was about to turn away, Daisy caught her arm. “You should spend the night painting . . . to relax.”

  Tessa’s caramel-colored braid fell over her shoulder as she shook her head. “Painting just reminds me of Reese. It’s not good for me right now.”

  As Daisy picked up the last wall hanging, she studied it. It was a wedding ring pattern. “You know, maybe we should both take up quilting. Rachel is serious about having us join her quilting circle. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know if the other women would want me there.”

  “Then maybe you should ask Rachel what she thinks. Because in my experience with Rachel, she’ll say you’re welcome.”

  That brought a smile to Tessa’s lips. Daisy was just hoping she could keep it there.

  Chapter Nine

  When Daisy looked out the window the following afternoon, she saw big, fat flakes of snow falling and collecting on the road. The tree branches were already frosted.

  As Tessa peered out the window too, she said, “I have to pick up groceries. I hope the snow isn’t going to mount up.”

  Even with current, more accurate weather predictions, they still varied. Daisy had forgotten to check the forecast for today. But the snow was coming down more heavily now. The cars on the main street were fewer and farther between.

  “Go on and pick up your groceries,” Daisy advised Tessa. “With this weather, we’re only going to have a few customers in the hour or so that’s left. I’ll send Aunt Iris and Eva home soon and we’ll close early. I’ve been jotting down ideas for new recipes. I’ll pull them together, then I’ll leave them in your apartment before I go. You can look them over and text me what you think. We might want to experiment now while we have a lighter customer stream.” She checked the cell phone in her pocket. “No messages from Jazzi. She’s spending the day with a friend. She’s going to text when I have to pick her up.”

  In the next half hour, Eva and Iris were able to care for the kitchen and tea room because so few customers stopped in. Daisy sent them home early and sat at her desk, scribbling notes onto her legal pad. When she created recipes, she preferred to do it with a pen on paper rather than on the computer. Tessa knew that and wouldn’t be surprised.

  Daisy had five new recipes—two for baked goods, two for soups, and one for bread. When she glanced out the window, she noticed the snow had stopped and appeared to be melting. Reaching for her jacket, she took it from the clothes tree, shrugged into it, and zippered up. Then she found her keys in her purse and looked for Tessa’s key on her ring. Ready to go, she picked up the recipes. Going out the back way, she set the alarm.

  A brisk wind blew around the few flakes that hadn’t melted or that were still floating from the sky. She hurried to the door that led up the steps to Tessa’s apartment. Dusk was falling and the wind blew even stronger around her. She put the key in the doorknob but to her surprise the door wasn’t locked. That didn’t make any sense. Especially since Reese’s death, Tessa locked up tight.

  Opening the door, she called up the stairs. “Tessa? Are you there?”

  No answer.

  Maybe Tessa had been cold and in a hurry and didn’t lock the door because she was expecting Daisy. She started up the stairs, listening as she went.

  She’d climbed to the second step from the top when suddenly a looming shadow appeared. She was pushed . . . hard. Her feet went out from under her as she dropped
her purse and recipes, tumbling down the stairs, banging her head on the baseboard and her shoulder on the wall. Whoever had been in the apartment rushed past her. All she could see were jean-clad legs and sneakers. The door banged behind the intruder, then swayed open again.

  She wasn’t sure how long she lay there seeing spots of light that resembled stars. Her chest felt tight and she realized her breath had been knocked out of her. After taking a few deep breaths, she wiggled her feet. No problem there. She carefully straightened her legs. Her shoulder hurt. But it was the bump on her head and the headache throbbing at her temples that made her groan when she pulled herself into a sitting position on the stairs.

  The wind blew in the open door, banging it completely open until she saw a shadow there and then a hand on the door. She wanted to scream but the sound stuck in her throat.

  Until Jonas peered in the open door and spotted her. “Daisy? Are you all right?”

  She tried to get to her feet. She didn’t want him seeing her sitting there like that, looking helpless.

  She mustn’t have done a very good job of it because he rushed to her, put his arm around her waist, and asked, “Are you sure you want to stand?” Without giving her time to answer, he followed up with, “What happened?”

  At the same time, overriding his voice, she asked, “Why are you here?”

  He responded, “I went to the tea garden and found it closed. When I checked the back lot, your car was still there. I saw Tessa’s open door and I figured something was going on. I couldn’t help but investigate.”

  With his arm around her waist, his strength seeping into her, it wasn’t so hard to arrange her feet under her.

  “Can you climb the stairs?” he asked. “I’ll help you up to Tessa’s apartment.”

  “I can climb,” she assured him almost breathlessly. She was not breathless from the fall, but because Jonas was so close . . . so sturdy . . . so warm.

  In the shadows, she saw him glance at her. Maybe what he saw convinced him she could do it. Nevertheless, he didn’t let go of her. “I’ll get your purse and the papers after you reach the top,” he told her.

  She was ready to say that she’d stoop and get everything herself, but she didn’t know if she’d be dizzy if she tried. That would be just too humiliating.

  Once in Tessa’s apartment, Jonas helped her to the couch, then switched on a floor lamp. Sitting beside her, he requested again, “Tell me what happened. Did you trip?”

  “No, I didn’t trip!” she protested. “I was pushed. Someone was in Tessa’s apartment.”

  “Did you see who it was?”

  “No. It’s shadowy in the stairway, and I didn’t expect anyone. I was almost at the top when suddenly I got this big push and I tumbled down the stairs. All I saw were jeans and sneakers as whoever it was ran by me. I couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman.”

  “I’m calling nine-one-one,” Jonas said grimly. “I don’t like the sound of any of this. Do you need a paramedic?”

  “No paramedic,” she said vehemently. “I bumped my head and my shoulder. But I’m fine. Just make the call to the police. That’s important.”

  Jonas didn’t argue, but he didn’t look happy, either.

  Detective Rappaport himself arrived about fifteen minutes after Jonas called him. Daisy was explaining to the detective what had happened when Tessa came running up the stairs. All over again, Daisy related how she’d been pushed down the stairs. Rappaport took notes once more in his small notebook as if Daisy had left something out the first time. But she hadn’t.

  Detective Rappaport ordered Tessa, “Take a look around and see if anything’s missing.”

  While Daisy stayed on the sofa with Jonas, Rappaport followed Tessa around the apartment.

  “Nothing’s missing,” she told the detective as they returned from the bedroom to the living room. “Not that I can see at first glance, anyway.”

  “I don’t know what to think,” Detective Rappaport grumbled. “If someone broke in here, there was a good reason.”

  Detective Rappaport was making this seem like it was Tessa’s fault in some way, and Tessa wasn’t having any of that. Hands on her hips, she turned to him and asked, “Were Reese’s keys found on his body?”

  It was obvious that the detective didn’t want to answer. She kept glaring at him.

  Finally he admitted, “No. We didn’t find his keys. Obviously, the murderer used them to drive Masemer’s car.”

  “That explains it,” Tessa said. “Daisy said the door was open when she arrived. No one had to break in. The keys to my apartment—the knob and the deadbolt—were on Reese’s key ring.”

  “You could have that key ring,” Detective Rappaport pointed out. “And you could have left the door open by mistake.”

  “I didn’t leave the door open by mistake. But even if I had, that wouldn’t explain someone pushing Daisy down the stairs.”

  The detective rubbed the back of his neck, then he focused on Daisy. “Should I call the paramedics for you?”

  “No. Please don’t. I’m fine.”

  “All right then. I’ll be going. This is going to cause me a lot of paperwork that seems to be unnecessary, but I’ll send somebody over to dust your door for fingerprints. Take care, folks.” He warned Daisy, “Don’t fall down any more stairs.”

  Jonas stood. “I think you should go to the urgent care center and be checked.”

  “I’m not going to go and have a lot of unnecessary tests.”

  “I don’t think you should drive yourself home,” he maintained.

  She checked her watch. Then her phone that was in her jacket pocket sounded. “I have to pick up Jazzi.”

  “I’ll take you to pick up Jazzi, and then I’ll take you home.”

  Jonas was pulling his white knight act again, and Daisy wanted no part of it. She was about to refuse and not give in on principle when Tessa came over to her and touched the lump on her head. “This isn’t nothing, Daisy. And I don’t want to be responsible for you having an accident.”

  “You’re not. Your intruder is the one who knocked me down.”

  “Maybe so. But this whole mess feels like my fault. I think you should let Jonas pick up Jazzi with you and take you home. Forget he’s a guy and just think of him as a chauffeur.”

  Daisy really didn’t want to give in, but her shoulder and her head ached from the fall, so she agreed.

  “I’ll get my car,” Jonas said. “I’ll be back in five minutes.” He gave Tessa a nod as if it were a thank-you.

  Daisy felt as if they were conspiring against her.

  “I’ll walk you downstairs,” Tessa said. “You’re looking pale.”

  “I’m aching a bit. It will probably be worse tomorrow. I’ll ice when I get home, and then take a hot shower.”

  They went down the stairs together and once they were at the bottom, they waited. They saw the patrol officer there. Rappaport had obviously left him there to guard the door.

  Daisy said, “You have to think about what the intruder might have wanted.”

  “I can’t imagine,” Tessa said. “I don’t have anything that’s that valuable except a few pieces of jewelry and they weren’t touched.”

  “Do you have anything of Reese’s here?”

  Almost immediately Tessa shook her head. “Nothing of value. Just an electronic cigarette he used. That’s still lying on my dresser, the same place where he left it. I haven’t touched it.”

  “That intruder wanted something, and we’re going to have to figure out what it was. Maybe when my head stops throbbing, I’ll be able to think more clearly.”

  Minutes later, Jonas pulled his SUV practically up to Tessa’s door. Daisy climbed in and buckled her seat belt, gave Jonas the address of Jazzi’s friend, then waved at Tessa.

  Jonas let off the brake, made a K-turn, and headed to the parking lot’s entrance. He didn’t speak as he switched on the turn signal and made a right.

  Uncomfortable, Daisy wasn’t going t
o stand for silence the whole way home. “Why did you volunteer to help when you obviously don’t want to be involved?”

  “There’s nothing obvious about this,” he said tersely.

  “I don’t get it, Jonas. Either you want to be around me or you don’t. All I’m feeling from you is ambivalence. It’s not helping my headache.”

  After he sent her a sharp glance, he stared out the windshield again. “I heard you had lunch with Cade. What’s that about?”

  Of all the questions Jonas could ask, she didn’t expect that one. She suddenly felt deflated as if any energy she still possessed just oozed out of her. All of her defensiveness went with it. “Cade and I are friends.”

  “And what about your tête-à-tête with that man in the tea room yesterday?”

  So he had seen her with Gavin. Patiently she explained, “That was Foster’s father. He doesn’t approve of Foster’s job. He’s a widower and trying to raise his kids the best he can. I understand how that’s hard going. He doesn’t seem to approve of Foster seeing Violet, either. At least he doesn’t want them becoming serious.”

  “You don’t want that either, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. Or let’s just say, I don’t want her dating to interfere with her college education. But I also know Violet’s eighteen now, and I can’t control what she does any more than Gavin can control what Foster does.”

  Her head still throbbing, she wanted to honestly know why Jonas was questioning her about Cade and Gavin. “So why do you care if I had lunch with Cade? Or if I was talking to Gavin?”

  “Because I care about you.”

  She tried to let those words sink in, but they didn’t make sense with everything else he’d said. “I don’t understand.”

  “Look, I might not be ready to jump into a full-fledged family relationship, but I want to make the shelves for your pantry closet, and I’d like to go on seeing you.”

  “As what?” she asked, now feeling perturbed.

  When he kept silent, she said again wearily, “You really are making my headache worse.”

  “I’m sorry. We’ll have to have a long talk when you’re feeling better. Just try to relax. We’ll be at Jazzi’s friend’s in a couple of minutes. Your whole body got shaken up with that tumble. Don’t be surprised if you can’t get out of bed in the morning.”

 

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