Murder with Orange Pekoe Tea

by Karen Rose Smith

  Still, who was standing behind those beautiful fronds? Anyone?

  Why was she even thinking that?

  She and Jonas were facing in the same direction and paddling lazily in the center of the creek. He tapped her arm with the tip of his oar. “What are you thinking about?”

  What was she thinking? She couldn’t even begin to tell him her list of fears because they weren’t real. Irrationally, she felt as if someone was chasing her when she was sitting in a canoe, floating on this serene creek.

  Swinging her legs around on the seat and rocking the canoe, she faced Jonas. Distracting herself, she studied him. He looked as if he belonged in the canoe. His jeans were worn and hugged his thighs. His green T-shirt looked as if it had seen many washings and fit him superbly. His feet were braced in the bottom of the canoe in his deck shoes. They seemed loose enough to fall off but he didn’t seem concerned about that. After his hair blew in the breeze, it slipped down over his brow.

  “Do you do this often?” She stalled from answering his question. “I just wondered. You look as if you could row the whole creek up and down twice and not be winded or tired.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re changing the subject.” Nevertheless, he gave in to responding to her question and motioned to the shores. “Sometimes I think I belong in the middle of oaks and evergreens and willows.” Pointing his oar over the water, he said, “Just look at those sparkles. They make me think that everything is crystal clear and clean. Isn’t that why we came out here?”

  She kept her eyes on the water, sparkling like white diamonds catching the rays of the sun. To the right of them near the shore she caught sight of a momma duck and four ducklings. They took turns dipping their heads into the water. When they raised their little heads again, they shook away excess droplets from their feathers.

  She murmured, “I bet Felix wishes he was out here with us.”

  As if he was perplexed by the change in subject, Jonas cocked his head and studied her. “I imagine he’s having plenty of fun with Jazzi. Hopefully she’ll tire him out fetching a ball and, when we go home, he’ll be ready to sleep. Sometimes he paces back and forth like a guard dog at my townhouse. I’m not sure what that’s about. I’ll have to ask Mrs. Gunnarsen when we visit her.”

  “Maybe he guarded her when she wasn’t feeling well.”

  “That’s possible.”

  “Did you get all the furniture delivered from the sale?”

  He let her continue guiding their conversation. “Only a few pieces left. They go to people who wanted to make a place for them. That required cleaning and rearranging. All in all, we did well. I’m thinking we can do it again next year, maybe earlier in the spring.”

  Daisy glanced over her shoulder and checked both shorelines. “Do you think we’ve rowed far enough? Maybe we should turn around and head back.”

  His brows furrowed. “Are you in a hurry? The sunset will be beautiful out here.”

  “I guess it will be. I wasn’t thinking about that.”

  He laid his oar inside the canoe. “I should have brought a rowboat so we could both sit on the same seat. Or maybe a drifter.”

  “A drifter?”

  “They’re called drift boats or drifters. It’s a type of fishing boat.”

  “Is there a reason they’re called that?”

  “They’re designed to catch fish with long drift nets. You can fish fresh water streams, rivers, and lakes with them as well as bays. One person can handle a small one. They’re not cheap. I saw a fourteen-foot one that I liked at a boat show. There are YouTube videos on how fishermen use drift boats.”

  “There are YouTube videos about anything,” she said distractedly.

  They floated for a while longer, watching the horizon change with the sun slipping lower. In the silent dusk, willow fronds floated in the creek and shadows steadily lengthened. Daisy’s anxiety increased.

  Suddenly, a shot rang out. At least that’s what it sounded like to Daisy. Instinctively she folded her arms over her head, ducked down between her legs, and slid to the floor of the canoe.

  “Daisy!” Jonas called. “Daisy! Are you hurt?”

  The canoe rocked as he lowered himself to the bottom of the boat with her. As best he could, he folded her into his arms. “Daisy, what’s wrong? I think that was fireworks going off. Somebody’s practicing for the Fourth of July.”

  Trembling, she felt Jonas’s arms around her and heard his voice. His words didn’t sink in. Her heart was racing so fast she thought it would beat out of her chest. Her breaths came hard and heavy as tears filled her eyes.

  Holding onto Jonas, trying to be rational, she responded breathily, “I didn’t know what was happening.”

  “Easy,” Jonas said again, putting his cheek next to hers. “Come on, sweetheart. I think you’re fine. Did the noise scare you?”

  Noise, she repeated to herself. Not a gunshot.

  “Daisy, it was fireworks. I’m pretty sure of that.”

  Fireworks. She measured the word in her mind. Fireworks.

  Slowly she lifted her head and gazed into Jonas’s green eyes. They were steady, calm and comforting. She sucked in a couple of deep breaths.

  “Daisy, tell me what’s happening. What are you feeling?”

  She was the one who had taught him how to express his feelings, wasn’t she?

  She straightened and he helped her up onto the seat though he still stayed on the bottom of the canoe. Realizing tears were running down her cheeks, she swiped them away with her hand.

  Since she wasn’t communicating with him, he prompted her. “Did you think that was a gunshot?”

  She nodded.

  “I thought bringing you out here would help but it obviously hasn’t.”

  She knew he’d tried hard to help her to relax, but she just couldn’t.

  “The other night scared you witless,” he determined.

  She nodded again. Her mouth was so dry and she licked dry lips. Finally she found her voice. “This should be a happy place . . . an easy place. The water, the sky, the trees, the ducks.” Now that she was talking, she kept on going. “But it isn’t. I feel like somebody’s watching me.”

  “Did you see actual evidence of that?” he asked practically.

  She shook her head. “No. It’s just a feeling. I don’t know. I felt anxious, almost panicked, ever since we came here into the open.” They weren’t really in the open now because trees rose on both sides of the creek.

  “Did you feel safe at home?”

  She thought about it. “Yes, I did. I had a good lunch with Vi and Sammy. When Jazzi came home, I made her beef barbecue so she’d have something when she got hungry. Having Felix there with us gave me a sense of security.”

  Jonas didn’t speak for a few moments as if he were thinking something over. “I’m going to make a suggestion and I want you to feel free to say no.”

  She kept her eyes on his.

  “I know your couch opens out. Why don’t I sleep over at your place tonight? You’ll have Felix and me guarding you.”

  She didn’t want to seem weak. She didn’t want to feel weak. But she also wasn’t going to put her pride over her emotional health.

  She said simply, “I’d like that very much.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Daisy awoke to the smell of coffee brewing. Jonas.

  Felix who had been sleeping beside her on the bed stood up, lifted his nose as if he smelled it too. “Let’s go,” she said. “I’m sure you want to go out.”

  After Felix jumped from the bed, she opened the bedroom door and he dashed out to the kitchen. She, on the other hand, went to her bathroom to freshen up. Afterward, she quickly dressed in yellow knit pants and a yellow T-shirt. She felt fine this morning but she’d agreed to stay home again today. Still, she didn’t know if she was going to stay in the house all day.

  When she went out to the kitchen, Jonas was already making an omelet.

  Jazzi was sitting at the bar, d
rinking a cup of coffee.

  Jonas crossed to Daisy, gave her a hug and a light kiss . . . probably because Jazzi was sitting nearby. Then he went back to the stove. “What would you like with your omelet? Toast? Bagels? There are some of those in the fridge.”

  “Toast is fine. I want to call Zeke before he goes to work.”

  “I already called Zeke for an update. He didn’t have much to tell me.”

  “I have a couple of ideas I’d like to share with him.”

  “Your ideas make me nervous,” Jonas said.

  Jazzi laughed.

  “It’s true. How did you sleep last night?” he asked.

  “I slept well. Why not with Felix as a bed partner, and you in the living room?”

  Jazzi perked up. “Maybe you two should consider making that a more permanent arrangement.”

  Daisy blushed, ducked her head, and crossed to the coffee maker. She didn’t make a comment and neither did Jonas.

  The omelet was delicious, the coffee was strong, and the conversation between the three of them was kept casual.

  “What are you going to do today?” Jonas asked as he picked up the plates off the bar and took them to the sink.

  “This or that.” It all depended on whether Trevor had the information she needed.

  Jonas looked at Jazzi. “How about you?”

  “I’m working at the tea garden today to relieve Mom. I’d better get going. I’m going to help Aunt Iris make a recipe for bread pudding.

  “Will you be here tonight?” Jazzi asked Jonas.

  “If your mom wants me to be, I will. She’ll have to tell me at the end of the day. Felix can always stay even if I don’t.”

  “Where are Marjoram and Pepper?” Daisy asked.

  “They saw Felix in the kitchen so they ate their breakfast begrudgingly while he went outside and then they left for upstairs.”

  “They’re working it out,” Daisy said optimistically.

  After breakfast, Jonas asked her, “Do you want me to leave Felix here with you today?”

  “That would be great. I might run a few errands. I’d like to have him along. Do you think he’ll take commands from me?”

  “He has up until now. I don’t see why not. I’d feel better if he’s with you if I can’t be.”

  “I think Felix and I will have a good day together. Are you coming over for supper tonight?”

  “I can. What time?”

  “How about six? I’ll make shepherd’s pie. I have the ingredients for it.”

  “You’ve never made that for me before.”

  “I didn’t want you to compare it to Sarah Jane’s.”

  “You know I’ll like whatever you make. Six o’clock it is.” This time, before he left, his kiss rocked her back on her heels. She was still smiling after he’d exited the house and closed the front door.

  Alone, Daisy made sure the kitchen was cleaned up and Felix was happy. Then she picked up her phone, found her contacts, and tapped on Trevor’s name.

  “Are you at the tea garden?” he asked when he answered.

  “No, I’m not. I need a favor.”

  “What kind of favor?”

  “Do you know the name of the witness who saw someone running from Hiram’s office the night he was killed?”

  Trevor went silent. Finally he said, “Daisy, I don’t know if I should give you that information.”

  “You know what happened to me. I still have the stun gun marks. I need to do some investigating on my own. Please, Trevor.”

  “If I don’t give it to you,” he said, “I’ll never hear the end of it, will I? I probably won’t hear the end of it from Tessa, either. If I give you the name, what do you intend to do with it?”

  “I want to visit the witness.”

  Again there was silence. “You shouldn’t go alone, but I’m tied up today. I have three interviews.”

  “You don’t have to come with me. I’m fine. Besides, I’ll have Felix with me. That should help, shouldn’t it?”

  After a grudging okay from Trevor, he gave her the name. “His name is Keith Farber. He works in a paint store in the four hundred block of Market. You can look up the exact address. It’s a Sherwin-Williams store so you can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you, Trevor. I really appreciate this, and I’ll be all right. Felix will be with me and we’ll go into the paint store and just ask a few questions. That’s it.”

  “Text me when you get there and text me when you’re finished. Tessa will have my head if I don’t have you do that.”

  “I thought you said you’d be doing interviews.”

  He gave a sigh. “I can check a text.”

  “Got it,” she agreed, and they both ended the call.

  A half hour later, Daisy found herself in front of the paint store. She’d been here before to buy paint for the Victorian after they’d bought it and for her own home. When she walked in, she saw an open utilitarian aisle up to the desk in the rear of the store. To the side were shelves of wallpaper and a long table with high chairs where customers could sit to decide what kind of pattern they wanted. There were also two walls of brackets with paint samples from every color, exterior and interior paints. Today she wasn’t interested in paint.

  Felix walked with her to the desk and she asked the man there, “Is it okay to have Felix here with me?”

  The man looked down at him. “Is he trained well?”

  Daisy said, “Sure is. I wouldn’t go anywhere without him.”

  The man smiled at her. “He’s welcome then. How can I help you?”

  Daisy studied the clerk who looked to be in his fifties. His brown hair was thinning and graying like his trimmed beard. “I’m looking for Keith. Is he here?”

  “I’m Keith.” His expression became more serious. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need help with something.” Daisy extended her hand. “My name is Daisy Swanson. I own Daisy’s Tea Garden down the street.”

  “I know it,” he acknowledged with a nod. “My wife goes in there at least once a week.”

  With a smile and the ease she experienced because she’d made a connection with him, she offered, “The next time she comes in, have her introduce herself to me. I’ll give her her order on the house.”

  Keith eyed Daisy suspiciously. “Uh oh. If you’re giving freebies away, then you do want something. I can’t give you free paint.”

  “No, I don’t want free paint. I’d like information. I’ve kept it quiet, but I was assaulted outside A Penny Saved the other night.”

  His expression manifested surprise and a new alertness. “I heard the ambulance. I wondered where it was going.”

  “That was me. Somebody assaulted me with a stun gun.”

  Keith’s eyes widened more. “A stun gun? You mean like the one that was used on Hiram Hershberger?”

  The news about Hiram had been leaked and publicized.

  “Possibly. That’s why I’m here. You were a witness to someone running away from Hiram’s office. Correct?”

  “Yes. That’s right,” he answered warily.

  “I have an important question, and I want you to think about it before you answer me. Or better yet just give me your gut feeling, okay?”

  Keith leaned down on the counter with his elbows in front of him. “All right. What’s your question?”

  “Could you tell if the person running away was a man or a woman? The police keep categorizing the assailant as a man, but I’d like to know what you think.”

  “All I can do is tell you what I saw.”

  “We’ll start with that. What did you see?”

  “The assailant was tall, probably not above six feet. The hoodie he or she was wearing was oversized.”

  “Was the person fat?”

  “No, the person was slim. The hoodie slouched on the sides.”

  “Okay. This is the important question. You saw the person running, right?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I want you to try to picture t
he person running. Picture the person’s hips when running.”

  “Okay,” he agreed.

  “Did the person’s hips rock, not remain . . . rigid?”

  He thought about her question for a few moments, his eyes shut. “Yeah, I think they did.”

  “So that means the assailant could have been a woman.”

  He opened his eyes. “Yeah, it could have been,” Keith said. “But remember, it was dark, and the person looked ordinary—black hoodie, black pants, black sneakers.”

  “I know. But when you instinctively watch someone run, I think you can tell if they’re male or female. I think the person who assaulted me was a woman.”

  * * *

  That afternoon Daisy phoned Jonas and told him about what she’d learned. She wasn’t going to keep secrets from him. He said he’d pick her up and they could go talk to Zeke if that would ease her mind. She said that would be a good idea.

  When they arrived at the police station, a patrol officer was at Zeke’s cubicle. Unlike Detective Rappaport, Zeke didn’t have his own office. At least not yet. They sat in the reception area until the receptionist came to get them and told them Zeke was free now. Daisy sat by Zeke’s desk while Jonas stood against the wall. He was just there to listen.

  Zeke said to her right off, “Don’t tell me you’ve been investigating.”

  “I won’t tell you that,” Daisy agreed. “But are you going to listen to what I have to say?”

  He leaned back in his chair and nodded his head one way and then the other as if he needed to stretch his neck. Apparently he’d had a long day. Apparently he’d had several of them.

  “Do you think what you have to tell me is of import?”

  “I think it could be. It all depends on what you do with it.”

  Zeke looked over at Jonas. “What do you think?”

  “I think you should listen to her. If nothing else, it will give you a few minutes break from staring at that computer as if it holds the secrets to the universe.”

  Zeke scowled at Jonas. “And just how do you know I’ve been doing that? I was talking to another officer when you came in.”

  “I know how these cases work, Zeke. You not only add to a murder book, but you have a list of all the clues. You have a list of all the subjects and suspects, as well as notes on every one of them. You’re going through it with a fine-tooth comb. Just listen to Daisy for a few minutes, then we’ll leave.”