Murder with Cinnamon Scones

by Karen Rose Smith

  “Mr. Cogley would take the time to meet a pretty woman any day of the week. So I was fairly certain he wouldn’t mind being bothered.”

  Daisy wasn’t sure what to do with his compliment. Ray had to be at least five to seven years younger than she was. She just smiled, thanked him again, and left. But she wondered who the woman was who’d been in Reese’s apartment. She wondered if he’d been going through withdrawal . . . or if he had been sick with the flu.

  * * *

  When the oven timer buzzed that evening, Daisy knew her chicken, noodle, and pea casserole was done. Just as she pulled it from the oven, the doorbell rang.

  Jazzi called into the kitchen, “I’ll get it.” Checking the peephole, she called to Daisy, “It’s Cade, Tessa, and some kid.”

  “That’s probably Reese Masemer’s son,” Daisy explained. “He’s working with Tessa to pack up the gallery during the day, then he’s been staying with Cade at night.”

  “How old is he?” Jazzi asked, curious.

  “He’s sixteen.”

  Daisy set the casserole on the teapot trivet on the table and joined Jazzi at the door.

  “Not bad,” Jazzi muttered.

  Daisy was absolutely not ready to have Jazzi thinking about dating, though she knew it was coming soon.

  Jazzi went to the kitchen and opened a cupboard. “I’ll set more places at the table. It’s a good thing you made a big casserole, hoping to have leftovers. No leftovers now, but enough for everybody. The salad I put together is in the refrigerator. I’ll get that too.”

  “Thank you,” Daisy said as she opened the door. “This is a surprise.”

  “Sorry to barge in,” Tessa said. “But Eric and I found something and we want to show it to you and talk to you about it. Is this an awful time?”

  “No, it’s a good time.” Daisy smiled up at Cade. “I just took a casserole out of the oven. You can join us.”

  “We didn’t mean to interrupt dinner.” Cade looked embarrassed.

  “It’s no problem. Come on in.” She motioned them inside. “Take off your coats and come join us at the table.”

  Marjoram, who had been sitting beside Jazzi on the sofa as she did homework, stood, did her cat stretch, then jumped over on the coffee table and down to the floor. Pepper, on the back of the sofa, just blinked at them.

  Cade took Tessa’s coat with his own and laid them over the deacon’s bench. Daisy informed him, “If you put the coats there, cats will sit on them.”

  He chuckled. “Not a problem for me.” He checked with Tessa and Eric and they just smiled. Eric laid his coat there too.

  Marjoram, who was always curious about new people, came over to Eric, sat, and looked up at him.

  Immediately Eric crouched down to her. “What’s your name?”

  “That’s Marjoram,” Daisy informed him.

  “That’s an odd name. What does it mean?”

  “It’s a spice,” Tessa told him. “You use it like you would oregano or thyme.”

  “Sweet,” Eric said. “That’s different.”

  Daisy pointed to the black-and-white tuxedo cat on the back of the sofa. “And that’s Pepper. We found them both in our herb garden.”

  Eric laughed.

  It was good to see him laugh after so much sadness.

  Jazzi said, “Come on over to the table, everyone. Dinner is served.”

  Daisy quickly introduced Eric to Jazzi. They awkwardly smiled at each other.

  “Whatever it is, it smells good,” Eric said. “Mom doesn’t cook much. We mostly eat takeout. I’m going to soon look like a pepperoni pizza.”

  Jazzi laughed now, which is what Eric must have intended because he looked pleased.

  After they all sat at the table and Daisy had dished out the casserole onto each plate, she asked Cade, “So how’s it going with you and Eric?”

  “I like the company,” Cade said. “It’s been awhile since I had a roommate.”

  “He likes the Steelers, too . . . and the Patriots,” Eric said in an aside.

  Cade nodded. “The sports channel is our friend.” He picked up his fork. “This looks really good, Daisy.”

  “It’s my best use for leftover chicken. Nothing special, just easy to throw together and stick in the oven. That salad dressing is Sarah Jane’s recipe for honey mustard.”

  “I thought she doesn’t give that out to anyone,” Tessa said.

  “She must like me,” Daisy joked.

  “More like you give her free tea and scones when she comes in,” Cade guessed.

  Daisy didn’t confirm or deny.

  “If you’re wondering why I tagged along,” Cade said, “I stopped at the gallery to pick up Eric. He and Tessa were huddled over something and said they had to come see you. So I offered to drive.”

  “You’re always welcome here, Cade, you know that,” Daisy assured him. Whether they were romantically involved or not, they were friends.

  “I didn’t like the idea of Tessa driving out here all alone.”

  “She wouldn’t have been alone,” Eric mumbled.

  Beside Eric, Cade placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “No, she wouldn’t have been alone. But there’s still a murderer out there, and whoever it is could know you’re both involved at the gallery. There’s no point taking any chances. It’s probably a good thing your mother’s picking you up tomorrow.”

  “I’ll have to go back to school,” Eric bemoaned. “And then there’s Mom. She doesn’t listen as well as you all do.”

  “You can visit me,” Cade said to Eric. “I told you that, and I’m not just being nice. I mean it.”

  “Okay,” Eric mumbled.

  Jazzi was the one to ask, “So what did you find?”

  After a glance at Eric, Tessa took something out of her slacks pocket. She handed it over to Daisy. “It’s a receipt that was stuck in a vase in Reese’s apartment.”

  Examining the receipt, Daisy realized it confirmed her suspicions.

  “I checked the date on it,” Tessa said. “I’ve got lots of receipts that need to be sorted. That’s for the week when Reese moved into the apartment over the gallery.”

  “What’s it say, Mom?” Jazzi asked.

  “It’s a receipt for a private nurse for a week.”

  “What does that mean?” Jazzi asked.

  “I think I know, but I’m sure I can’t find out more information because I wasn’t related to Reese.” Daisy looked at Eric. “But your mom probably can.”

  “If you text her, she’ll answer you,” Eric informed Daisy.

  “Okay. I’ll text her and give her the nursing agency’s number, then we’ll go from there. How about a whoopie pie? Aunt Iris made them today and I brought a bunch home because they’re a favorite of Jazzi’s.”

  “And yours,” Jazzi retorted. “She sneaks one at midnight with a glass of milk.”

  “Your secret’s out,” Cade said with a smile.

  Daisy rose to fetch the dessert. “Ice cream with those?”

  But as she went to the freezer for the ice cream, she wasn’t thinking about whoopie pies. She was thinking about texting Larissa to confirm the reason why Reese had left Pittsburgh.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Daisy had already baked scones, cookies, and two types of bread with the help of her aunt Iris when Jonas arrived with the shelves for the storage closet the next morning. He brought them into the kitchen, two at a time. They were yellow, one of her favorite colors.

  “If you can stand the noise, I’m going to tack them down,” he explained. “I don’t want them tipping if you happen to lean on the front of one.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Daisy said.

  Iris called to her from the sales counter. Apparently, this was going to be a busy morning. Quilt Lovers Weekend publicity paying off? She was glad she’d asked Foster to work this morning.

  She glanced at Jonas before she left the kitchen. She wanted to tell him all about last night and what she’d learned this morning.
She didn’t want him to feel left out of the loop. Maybe when he’d finished with the shelves and morning traffic slowed.

  The morning rush of patrons lasted almost until eleven. Some admitted they’d traveled to Willow Creek today to beat the crowd of tourists that would start on Friday.

  As soon as Daisy could get free, she went to the closet where Jonas was putting the last shelf in place. When he stood, she said, “I want to tell you about last night and what I learned.”

  “What happened last night?” he asked.

  She looked over her shoulder. Eva was washing teapots and Foster stood at the mixer ready to mix apple bread.

  “How about a cup of tea? Or a bowl of soup? It’s almost lunchtime. We can go to the spillover tea room.”

  He studied her carefully, obviously realizing this wasn’t going to be a short conversation. “What kind of soup do you have today?”

  “Beef barley and leek and potato.”

  “The beef barley sounds good, and a cup of tea.”

  “Any particular kind?”

  “You choose. I’ll just take my tools out to the car and meet you over there.”

  It wasn’t long before Daisy brewed one of her favorite black teas that came from Ceylon. She knew Jonas liked it. Instead of making up a tray because she knew that would be heavy to carry, and still reluctant to ask for help, she carried in the teapot first, then the soup, then came back for the mugs and a pot of honey. She had everything set up on the table when Jonas joined her.

  “Is this your lunch?” he asked.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Does your shoulder still hurt?”

  “Only if I lift something too heavy.”

  “If it keeps bothering you, you might want to think about physical therapy. It’s not always pleasant but it helps.”

  “I’ll think about it,” she told him.

  He took a spoonful of his soup and then looked up at her. “So tell me what happened last night. You didn’t run into an intruder again, did you?”

  “No, of course not. Jazzi and I were making supper when Tessa, Eric, and Cade showed up at the door.”

  “Cade did?” Jonas’s eyebrows arched as they did when he was serious or questioning.

  “He went to pick up Eric at the gallery, but Tessa and Eric had found something. She wanted to bring it to me so he said he’d drive them.”

  Jonas frowned but didn’t comment.

  Next, she filled him in on what Abner Cogley had said about Reese that first week he was in Willow Creek.

  Jonas nodded, took the mug in his hand, and waited for Daisy to go on.

  “Yesterday Tessa found a receipt for a private nursing service. The bill was for a week.”

  “And you believe Reese was going through withdrawal?”

  “I do. So I texted Larissa. She called the nursing service this morning and got the number of the private duty nurse. I think she told them her husband had just died and she wanted to thank the nurse who took care of him.”

  “Even though that was years ago?”

  “It apparently worked. She spoke with the nurse, acting as if she knew exactly what had happened. And it was what we thought. He was detoxing from the pain medication. That’s why he left her and Eric. The nurse said his biggest worry was that he’d start taking hydrocodone again.”

  “Do you think he did?”

  “Tessa isn’t finding any evidence of it,” Daisy said. “I think he stayed clean.”

  “You have a lot of information here that could help Detective Rappaport if he hasn’t looked into it already. Do you want to set up a meeting with him?”

  “Yes, I do. At supper last night, Eric told me again he’s going to call Detective Rappaport every week for a report.”

  “So everyone stayed for supper?” Jonas asked nonchalantly, as if her answer didn’t matter.

  “I was pulling it out of the oven when they came. The casserole was big enough for all of us. Jazzi had made a salad.”

  “And I’m sure you had some kind of dessert on hand.” Jonas tried to say it in a joking manner, but it fell flat.

  “Whoopie pies.”

  “Hmmm,” he said. “How did Cade like those?”

  Daisy reached across the table and laid her hand on Jonas’s forearm. “Cade didn’t think Tessa and Eric should drive out to my place alone. He’s worried about her, like we all are if the murderer is still out there.”

  “He’s worried about Tessa?”

  Daisy looked straight into Jonas’s eyes. “I told you I would be honest with you about everything. I don’t intend to be a social butterfly or date two men at the same time.”

  “I suppose that means that we should go on an official date to make sure I’m the one who’s dating you.” His mouth curved in a small smile.

  Daisy’s heart fluttered a bit. They’d never called their time together “dating” before. “That would be nice,” she said lightly.

  He set down his mug and covered her hand with his. “I’ll set up a meeting with Rappaport. After that, we’ll decide where we want to go for a date. Think about it until then.”

  She definitely would.

  After Jonas left, Daisy picked up her clipboard from her office and went to the tea cupboards to take inventory for her order this week. After she checked off several teas to discuss with her supplier—the green teas with infusions seemed to sell the most—she weighed some of the most popular ones into two-ounce bags. When they were busy, it was nice to be able to snatch a bag when a customer requested it. She was weighing out the green tea with lemon and almond tones when Foster came into the kitchen, his cheeks a little ruddy.

  “My brother’s here and he wants to talk to me. Is it okay if I take a few minutes to go outside with him?”

  “Outside? It’s twenty-five degrees out there, Foster,” Daisy reminded him. “Why don’t the two of you go into my office?”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I did. I don’t want either of you getting frostbite. Are you going to introduce me?”

  Foster’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sure, I can do that.” He went back to the tea room and returned a moment later, a young man around twelve or thirteen in tow. He had the same cheekbone structure as Foster, the same color hair. No glasses, though.

  “Mrs. Swanson, this is my brother, Benjamin. Ben, this is Mrs. Swanson.”

  Daisy extended her hand and Ben took it a little shyly. “No school today?” she asked. After all, Jazzi went to school, so Daisy was wondering.

  Suddenly Ben’s gaze was downcast, and he wouldn’t meet hers.

  “Ben,” Foster said, a warning tone in his voice that said he was used to being the oldest and the big brother.

  But Ben still didn’t answer.

  “Did you tell Dad you were sick and you stayed home?” Foster asked him.

  “I had to,” Ben blurted out as if he couldn’t hold it in. “I wanted to come see you. I want you to move back home. We all do. Please.”

  Daisy could see that Foster was torn between loving his family and becoming an adult with more control over his life.

  She motioned to her office. “Go inside and talk.”

  Foster and his brother were inside her office for a good fifteen minutes. Every once in a while she took a peek and could see them through the glass windows. She found herself watching as Foster gave his brother a hug that lasted awhile. Then she took a few steps back as they both came out of her office.

  She asked Foster, “Do you want to run him home?”

  “You’re cutting me too many breaks,” Foster said.

  “I’m the boss so I’m allowed to do that,” she told him with a smile. “It’s too cold for him to walk home. I assume that’s how he got here?”

  Foster nodded. He glanced at his brother, who was standing in the hall looking uncomfortable. “I’m not sure what to do,” he said.

  “Have you talked to your dad?”

  This time Foster shook his h
ead.

  “I’m just going to say one thing,” Daisy said. “As an adult, you need to be practical. Even though I understand you want to stand on your own, you should take advantage of living at home to save money and not go deep into debt.”

  “How can I stand on my own with Dad paying all my expenses?”

  “Then don’t let him. What if you start paying your dad room and board? That way you can be more independent and show your dad how responsible you are. Maybe then he’ll back off a little. It could be a win-win compromise.”

  Ben approached them then. “You told me you’re going to think about coming home.” His brother’s voice was so hopeful, Daisy didn’t know how Foster could disappoint him.

  Foster blew out a resigned sigh. “Zip up your jacket. I promise I’ll talk to Dad about it.”

  “When?” Ben wanted to know.

  “This weekend. I promise.”

  Foster really was a responsible young man. Daisy was thankful that Vi had chosen someone honorable to spend her time with. She couldn’t help but say to Foster, “After you put your coat on, you zip it up too. A scarf wouldn’t be a bad idea either.”

  Foster gave her a smile that told her he knew she was half-kidding and half-serious.

  It was late afternoon when Larissa, Tessa, and Eric came into the tea garden. Daisy was in her office and Aunt Iris sent them all to her.

  When Larissa entered the room, she was smiling. She hung her arm around her son’s shoulders. “I want to thank you for your hospitality to Eric. We both appreciate that. I already stopped in at the real estate office to thank Cade. I can see why Reese liked this town if you all help each other out like that. I just wish he had let us help him.”

  “Sometimes it’s hard to accept help.” Daisy knew from her own experience.

  “I suppose so,” Larissa said.

  Eric looked up at her. “Mom, my guess is Dad was afraid he’d relapse. That’s why he had that prescription taped to the back of my painting. He could turn it around and look at it and remember, and then become more determined that he wouldn’t.”

  Although Tessa had been quiet until now, she stepped into the conversation. “Eric, I just want you to know that I never saw any signs of it. I know what addiction looks like. I was around it when I was growing up. And your dad knew too. If an artist came into the gallery with his work, and he had a glazed look in his eyes and he was rubbing his nose, your dad didn’t take on his work because he insisted that artist wouldn’t be dependable for either artistic or financial dealings. I never guessed he knew what he was talking about from personal experience.”