Dying for Tea Time

by Linda Gordon Hengerer

  DYING FOR TEA TIME:

  Beach Tea Shop Cozy Mystery #1

  ~*~

  Linda Gordon Hengerer

  ~*~

  About cozy mysteries…

  A “cozy” is a nickname for a traditional mystery, much like those written by the great Agatha Christie. Usually—but not always—a cozy is solved by an amateur sleuth, and the puzzle is “fair play.” That means there’s a possibility the reader could figure out “whodunit,” given both the clues and the relationships involved. Cozies generally avoid graphic sex, graphic violence, and foul language. In other words, they are “clean” reads.

  Cuddle up and read more cozy mysteries!

  ~*~

  Dying for Tea Time – Beach Tea Shop Cozy Mystery #1 * Copyright © 2019 by Linda Gordon Hengerer, all rights reserved.

  Cover art and the logo “Beach Tea Shop Cozy Mysteries” are the property of Stinging Nettle Press, Inc., PO Box 96, Vero Beach, FL 32961-0096 USA

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from the authors, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors’ vivid imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Front Cover: Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

  www.wickedsmartdesigns.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Recipes and Crafts

  Dying for High Tea

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Alexandra Powell carried an armful of pink alstroemeria flowers into the kitchen of her grandmother’s house and set them on the counter next to the sink. Her sister Chelsea’s birthday was this weekend, and Chelsea was flying in from Los Angeles to celebrate with her family in Citrus Beach.

  “Alex, I got out the crystal vase for you to use,” Nana Jean said. She was setting the table in the dining room, and Alex was pleased to see Chelsea’s favorite blue tablecloth on the table. The white china with tiny blue rosebuds would be set out next, and then napkins to match the table cloth.

  Alex got out the garden shears they used for flower arrangements. She tied her hair back with twine from the ball that was sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and then washed her hands. Filling the vase with warm water, she set it on the counter to the left of the sink.

  After slitting open the wrapper that contained the flowers, she pulled out the packet of floral food and added it to the water. Alex stirred the water to make sure the floral food was dissolved before turning back to the flowers.

  She took the largest flowers out of the pile and pulled the leaves off the stems if they would be submerged in the water. After trimming the stems, she placed flowers in the vase, angling the stems into each other to support the rest of the flowers.

  “Chelsea called to say her flight was on time,” Alex said. She continued stripping leaves off the stems and inserting flowers into the growing arrangement.

  “That’s good news. Dani should be getting into the airport about the same time, and they’ll be able to pick up the rental car and get on the Turnpike before rush hour.” Nana Jean stood in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen. “That arrangement is gorgeous. Chelsea will love it.”

  “Thanks, Nana Jean.” Alex settled asparagus fern and baby’s breath in the gaps between the flowers. “Done. What’s next?”

  “I want to get the silverware and glasses on the table. You can set the table and I’ll do the glasses. Deal?” Nana Jean smiled and Alex knew she was thinking how grand it would be to have all of her girls together again.

  Alex was happy that both of her older sisters would be in Citrus Beach at the same time. Their schedules had not allowed for many such weekends, and Alex missed them both. Danielle lived in New York City, working as a chef in a busy restaurant. Chelsea lived in Los Angeles and worked for a decorator as famous for his tantrums as for the lush interiors he designed for celebrities.

  This year Chelsea’s birthday fell on a Saturday, and the timing worked out for both Chelsea and Dani to come home for the weekend. They coordinated their flights to arrive Friday afternoon so they could share a rental car. The Orlando airport was over an hour away from Citrus Beach, and they didn’t want Alex or Nana Jean leaving the Beach Tea Shop to come pick them up.

  Alex and Nana Jean finished setting the table, and sat down at the kitchen table.

  “What’s next?” Alex asked.

  “Cup of tea and an orange-vanilla scone. Then we’ll start cooking dinner.” Motioning Alex to stay at the table, Nana Jean she bustled around the kitchen getting their snack ready.

  Alex never tired of drinking tea or eating scones, even after years of visiting and then working in the tea shop Nana Jean had owned since 1987. Grandpa Hal had given it to her on Nana Jean’s 50th birthday, and it had been a family business ever since. Alex and her sisters grew up “helping” at Beach Tea Shop when they were small, and worked there after they were old enough.

  Late afternoon sun shone through the half-open blinds and lit the kitchen with a warm glow. April was always a pretty time of year, not as hot and humid as the Atlantic coastal town got in summer. Flowers bloomed, an ocean breeze kept the temperatures bearable, and snowbirds were heading back to their northern homes if Easter was early.

  Both women enjoyed the quiet company while they drank tea and ate scones. The house would soon be loud with the sound of four women – five, including BevAnne Wexler – celebrating Chelsea’s birthday.

  Alex no sooner thought of BevAnne than a knock on the door signaled her arrival. BevAnne was Nana Jean’s best friend, and helped raise the then-teenaged girls after their parents and Grandpa Hal were killed in a car accident. Newly-widowed Jean leaned on her best friend, and the two women were stable fixtures in the grieving teens’ lives.

  BevAnne was combination grandmother, parent, and best friend to the Powell sisters. They relied on BevAnne to run interference for them with their grandmother if they needed it. Although a contemporary of Nana Jean’s, BevAnne had a young spirit the girls appreciated.

  “Am I too late for tea?” BevAnne asked. Always immaculately groomed and dressed, she went the extra mile for special events. This afternoon she wore a gold sweater over white slacks, yellow and gold necklaces of varied lengths with coordinating earrings and bracelets, and gold wedge sandals. The sun shimmered on her sweater and threw rainbows around the kitchen.

  “Never,” Nana Jean said. She started to rise but Alex patted her hand.

  “I’ll get it,” she said. “You and BevAnne can catch up.” Alex put a cup of tea in front of BevAnne and added more scones to the plate on the table. Sitting back down, she picked up her own half-filled cup of tea.

  BevAnne laughed. “We caught up this morning after our walk. I don’t believe much has happened since then, unless I’ve missed something.” She bit into her scone, ate the first bite, and then sampled her tea. “Delicious scones, ladies. New recipe?”

  Nana Jean said, “Yes. I’m trying it out at the shop tomorrow. What do you think?”

  “You might need to make these a permanent choice. They’re really good, and the orange is perfect for Citrus Beach. Maybe a signature scone?” BevAnne suggested.

  Alex smiled. “We talked about doing just that. Great minds thinking alike?” She stood up and cleared her
dirty dishes. She gave them a quick rinse before she put them into the dishwasher, and then cleared the rest of the table once BevAnne and Jean were done. She turned the oven on to preheat.

  “What can I help with?” BevAnne asked. “Chelsea and Dani will be here soon, won’t they? I checked FlightAware and their flights were one time.”

  “They’ll be here any time. Dinner’s already prepped, we just need to get a few things into the oven and then we can visit with the girls when they get here.” Nana Jean took a pork roast out of the refrigerator and set it on the counter. Potatoes were retrieved from the pantry and put on a paper towel next to the sink.

  Alex scrubbed the potatoes and dried them, then used a fork to prick holes around the potatoes equator. She and her sisters liked very crisp skins on their baked potatoes. Alex put the potatoes in the oven while it continued to preheat. The longer they backed, the better she liked it.

  Nana Jean seasoned the pork roast and set it in a roasting pan. The roast would have the chill off it by the time it was ready to go in the oven.

  “That’s all until we need to get the green beans on.” She took off her apron and hung it up inside the pantry door. “I’m going to freshen up.” She left the kitchen.

  “How is she doing?” BevAnne asked in a low voice. “After our walk this morning she seemed more tired than usual.”

  Alex took her time answering. “She hasn’t said anything, but she doesn’t have her usual energy. I’m hoping it’s just because the tea shop has been so busy. I wanted to wait until Chelsea and Dani were here to see if they noticed anything or if I’m imagining it.”

  BevAnne sighed. “We’re not getting any younger, that’s for sure. I hoped it was nothing.” A thought struck her. “Has she said anything to you about an offer to buy the tea shop?”

  Alex shook her head. “No. She mentioned there was something she wanted to discuss this weekend when we’re all together. That might be what it’s about.”

  The sound of a car pulling into the driveway drew their attention.

  “They’re here,” Alex called to Nana Jean.

  “I’ll be right out,” she said.

  Car doors slammed and the sound of voices came close to the door. Alex ran to open it and pulled her sisters inside. Hugging them both, they moved in a group to BevAnne and folded her in.

  Nana Jean came down the hall from her bedroom and said, “Would you look at this,” and put her arms around Chelsea and Dani.

  Happy tears flowed as bags were carried to bedrooms and the travelers unpacked. Groups ebbed and flowed through the house as everyone tried to talk to everyone.

  Nana Jean and Alex went back to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner. Chelsea and Dani showered off their travels, and BevAnne finished setting the dining room table.

  ~*~

  Dinner was eaten, the table cleared, and the five women sat at the kitchen table having dessert and coffee. Earlier that day Alex had combined fresh berries with a bit of sugar and Grand Marnier, and let the mixture macerate in the refrigerator. The sugar helped break down the fruit and release the juice, and the Grand Marnier added depth of flavor. Spooned over vanilla ice cream and topped with whipped cream, it was a light end to the meal.

  “Who’s up for a movie?” Alex asked. “TCM is running a Hitchcock marathon this weekend.” She took her dirty dishes to the sink and started loading the dishwasher. Chelsea and Dani brought over the rest.

  “I am,” said Dani. She tidied the placemats and napkins on the kitchen table while Chelsea wiped down the counters.

  Nana Jean and BevAnne added their agreement, and Chelsea said, “It’s unanimous. Let’s put on comfy clothes before the movie starts.”

  Settling into sofas and recliners, with blankets and afghans tucked around them, everyone shared their favorite Hitchcock film.

  “Dial M for Murder,” Nana Jean said. “Grace Kelly was wonderful in that.”

  BevAnne agreed. “I love her in Rear Window, too. When she pulls that beautiful nightgown out of her overnight bag when she’s staying over to take care of Jimmy Stewart, I’m always reminded of my honeymoon with Ben.” Nana Jean patted BevAnne’s hand at the mention of her husband, who died many years earlier.

  “Strangers on a Train for me,” Dani said. “I can see two people putting their heads together, cooking up a scheme, and then one getting cold feet. It wouldn’t happen on a subway, maybe Metro North with regular commuters.”

  “Or the auto train, when you’re on the train overnight and can talk to someone over dinner,” Alex said. “Overhear an argument, approach someone casually to gauge their interest, make a suggestion that can be passed off as a joke if the person’s not receptive.” She snuggled into her recliner, pulling her feet under the blanket. “I like that, and North by Northwest.”

  Chelsea said, “Psycho. That shower scene, with the music, gets me every time.” She shivered. “You don’t see Janet Leigh being stabbed but it feels like you do. Creepy.”

  “Well, ladies, Dani’s fave is tonight’s movie,” Alex said. She turned down the light next to her, dimming the lights as the movie started, and Nana Jean did the same.

  The darkened room enveloped the women, and they were soon wrapped up in the story. By the time the movie ended, Nana Jean and Dani were asleep. They woke up as BevAnne stood up to go home.

  “I have some news to share with everyone,” Nana Jean said. “We’ll get a good night’s sleep and talk in the afternoon.”

  BevAnne and Alex exchanged glances before everyone said Good Night.

  Nana Jean said, “Tonight’s been fun. I’m so glad we’re able to celebrate Chelsea’s birthday together this weekend.”

  Chapter 2

  The Beach Tea Shop was busy with customers taking a break from Saturday chores or shopping. Chatter filled the shop as people greeted friends or talked with their companions. Alex and Nana Jean were always on the move, taking orders and bringing out filled serving trays, clearing dirty dishes and setting out clean ones, and catching snippets of conversations.

  BevAnne opened the door and set the attached wind chimes jingling. “Did you hear about Shirley Finch?” she asked.

  Nana Jean and Alex stopped for the moment. “I don’t think so. I heard someone talking about a death but not who it was.”

  Nodding, BevAnne said, “She was at their ranch west of town. A couple of friends went out to see her and found her. There was a gun on the floor near her. They think it was an accident, not suicide.”

  “That’s terrible,” Nana Jean said. “Her husband was here just the other day. He wants to buy Beach Tea Shop.”

  “Is that what you wanted to talk about this afternoon?” Alex asked. Scanning the thinning crowd, she decided she had another minute before she was needed by a customer.

  “It is,” Nana Jean said. The wind chimes sounded again, and five women came in. “Back to work. We’ll talk later.”

  After showing the new arrivals to a table, Alex handed out menus and mentioned the specials. They ordered, and she heard the women talking about Shirley Finch as she filled water glasses and poured their tea. Details were sketchy and conflicting. One woman heard it was a burglary gone wrong. Another said she’d been shot execution-style. Her friends scoffed at that; why would a middle-aged woman be executed?

  Suggestions were offered and rejected. Her husband was abusive and he’d gone too far. A stranger did it because she saw something she shouldn’t have. Suicide. Accident.

  Hearing theories grow more outlandish as they talked, Alex thought it was unlikely that any of the women had it right. If Shirley Finch had just been found this morning, the sheriff’s department probably didn’t have enough information yet to say what happened.

  Life in a small town ran on gossip. The ebbs and flows of who was doing what to whom, what was said by or about someone else – Alex grew up in Citrus Beach and was used to the speculation. It was often comforting to know so many people, but on occasion it annoyed her that people she didn’t know knew so muc
h about her. Being on the receiving end after the car accident that killed her parents and Grandpa Hal taught her not to add fuel to gossipy fires. She felt it was better to be thought of as standoffish than to spread untruths.

  Beach Tea Shop was closed until Monday. The Saturday crowd gradually thinned until the customers were gone. Locking the door behind them, Dani and Chelsea came in and set down shopping bags.

  “We’re doing our part for the economy,” Chelsea said. “Is anything left for us to eat?” She shrugged off a sweater and draped it over the back of her chair.

  Dani and Chelsea set up a table for five. “BevAnne’s on the way over,” Dani said. “Will everyone have tea?”

  Alex brought over a tray with plates full of tea sandwiches and scones. Nana Jean brought over a platter with cookies and brownies. They set the food down on a lazy susan in the middle of the table, making access easy for everyone.

  BevAnne knocked on the door and Alex let her in, relocking the door. They didn’t want anyone wandering in while they cleaned up and prepped for Monday, and Nana Jean wanted to talk to everyone at the tea shop.

  “I’ve had an offer to buy Beach Tea Shop,” she said. “Knox Finch wants to develop the Citrus Beach Shoppes, and the offer includes relocating us to one of his other properties.”

  Murmurs from the women stopped when she continued. “I’d like to retire and I’m willing to sell if you girls aren’t interested in continuing the business.”

  Alex spoke first. “When does he need an answer?”

  “By the end of the month,” Nana Jean said. “I know it’s short notice. I think he thought I’d be the easiest sell, so he came to me last. He’s already bought the rest of the buildings here.” She looked at each of her granddaughters.

  “Talk it over. Don’t feel obligated to continue Beach Tea Shop. This was my dream, and I’ve loved every minute since your grandfather gave it to me. You girls have your own lives, and I want you to decide if that includes running Beach Tea.” She poured tea and stirred in a teaspoon of sugar.