“Are you looking forward to seeing Camellia over Thanksgiving?”
“I haven’t spoken with her since Vi’s wedding reception. If she’s bringing along a boyfriend, hopefully she’ll be too occupied with him and fending off Mom’s questions to disapprove of my life.”
“Do you feel that’s what she does?”
“As much as Mom does. It’s that disapproving I-wouldn’t-do-it-that-way syndrome. Ever heard of it?”
“In fact, I have. I think it afflicts most families.”
They both smiled.
“Have you asked Zeke to have a beer and go watch a game?”
“Not yet. The time just hasn’t seemed right. And I know what you’re going to say—that the time might never seem right. But I have to follow my gut on this. If I push him too soon, I think he’ll just become more antagonistic. I don’t want that.”
Jonas studied her pensively and returned to the question she’d asked about following leads. “Why don’t you stop in at the Little Theater for one of the rehearsals. If you just talk to everyone in general, I’m sure you’ll learn more about Margaret. People open up to you. Keisha and Ward might know something that Glenda didn’t know.”
“And Glenda might know a lot more than she told me.”
“Speaking of light conversation,” he said with a bit of humor, “did you start Christmas shopping yet? I think it could be great fun going toy shopping for Sammy.”
Jonas was probably right about that. After that gambit, they did keep the conversation lighter. The food arrived and they were more quiet while they ate, appreciating each bite. The food really was sublime. Daisy had known they were going out to dinner tonight, but she hadn’t expected this. It was as if Jonas was courting her. That was an old-fashioned term that was used a lot in this area. In the Amish community, when a girl and a boy were interested in each other with dreams of marriage and a family ahead of them, they courted. For the Amish that usually meant a buggy ride after a family dinner or after a church service. Courting was a time when the two people could spend an evening alone together. The couple was vigilant about not many public displays of affection, but in private holding hands and kissing were considered appropriate.
She could outright ask Jonas if that’s what they were doing, but putting the question into words could spook either of them. She preferred to simply enjoy the dim lights, the delicious food, and the sight of the man across from her.
They’d decided to share a generous slice of Black Forest cake when Daisy’s phone played its tuba sound. She quickly dived for it in her purse. When she brought it out to the table, she could see Jazzi was calling.
“It’s Jazzi,” she said to Jonas.
“Go ahead and take it. I’ll save you plenty of whipped cream and cherries.”
“I appreciate that,” she teased, but she really wasn’t in a teasing mood. If Jazzi was calling her, then something was wrong.
“Are you at home, Mom?” Jazzi asked, her voice a bit shaky.
“No, I’m at a restaurant with Jonas.”
“Sarah Jane’s?”
“No, a restaurant in York. He’s treating me to candlelight, chandeliers, and white tablecloths. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know if you want to take this call where you are. Can you go somewhere to talk freely?”
“Sure. There’s a glassed-in porch. I’ll go out there. Talk to me while I’m on my way.”
“Don’t you have to explain to Jonas?”
“He understands.” When she pointed to the enclosed porch, Jonas nodded.
“I’m sorry I’m ruining your dinner.”
“Honey, you’re not. We’re almost finished. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
She opened the door to the glassed-in porch and stepped down the two steps onto the flagstone floor. A wrought-iron bench sat on one side and she settled on that, looking out into the night through the big windows across from her.
“Colton and I haven’t clicked. He’s trying and I’m trying, but it’s like there’s this tall wall between us.”
Listening was the best thing she could do for Jazzi. “Go on,” she advised, knowing there was more.
“Portia thought it would be a good idea if Colton and the girls and I all went to the mall.”
“Does Colton like to go to the mall? Most men don’t particularly like shopping.”
“I don’t know if he likes shopping, but he enjoys being with his daughters. They often end up at the video arcade.”
Daisy could see a dad liking that part of the activity. “So what happened?”
“One of his daughters, Missy, wanted to go into a jewelry boutique. You know, one of those cute ones where everything’s affordable. They have barrettes and makeup and bracelets and necklaces that really show up.”
Immediately a store in the Park City Mall came to mind. Daisy knew what Jazzi was talking about. “And what happened?”
“Trying to be helpful, I said I’d take the girls in and he could go into another store if he wanted. But he got all huffy. He said we should all stay together. He didn’t want his daughters spending all of their allowance on junk. He called it junk, Mom. That pretty jewelry enhances clothes, and I don’t think it was the jewelry or his daughters spending their allowance. He just doesn’t like me. I don’t know what to do, Mom. What can I do to make him like me?”
Whoa. Thoughts like that could get Jazzi in trouble. But what should she say that would make a difference? “Honey, Colton is Colton, and you are you. Do you remember when Dad would bring home business friends, and you just didn’t like them? You’d go up in your room after dinner and find something else to do. But then there were others that you enjoyed talking to. They’d play a board game after dinner, and you didn’t mind staying with us old folks.”
“Aw, Mom. That’s not the same.”
“It is in a way. You and Colton are in an awkward situation. Maybe he doesn’t want anyone to influence his daughters except for him or their mother. Maybe he thinks you’ll encourage them to buy Goth jewelry.” Daisy’s voice was filled with a bit of amusement.
She heard Jazzi sigh and knew her daughter was probably rolling her eyes. “Mom, you know I wouldn’t do that.”
“Sure, I know you wouldn’t. But he doesn’t. See if this blows over. What did you do after the kerfuffle?”
“One of his daughters suggested we get gelato so we went to a stand that sells it, walked the mall some more, and then went home.”
Home. Daisy didn’t want Jazzi thinking of Portia’s place as home. “There’s something you could do.”
“What? Leave?”
“No. You could try to talk to Colton about what happened.”
“I can’t do that. It would be too embarrassing.”
“Maybe, but if you push past the embarrassment, just doing it might show him how adult you are. All I’m saying is think about it, and don’t expect all good or all bad to happen this weekend. You both need some time, Jazzi. You can’t get to know a person in a day.”
“I suppose not,” Jazzi admitted. “Thanks, Mom, for listening. I hope I didn’t ruin your romantic date.”
“It’s early. We still have time to be romantic.”
“Mom.” That frustrated drawl was in the word again.
“Be kind, stand up for yourself, but most of all, just try to listen. You’ll learn about Colton that way.”
“Good night, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night, honey. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
After Daisy returned to the table, Jonas studied her. “Trouble in Allentown?”
“Jazzi thinks there is.” She explained what her daughter had told her.
“There’s no knowing what’s going through his mind,” Jonas admitted. “Do you think Jazzi will talk to him about it?”
“She can be forward sometimes, but in this situation, I think she’s just scared she’ll mess things up even more. And Portia really can’t intervene. Not in this.”
“I might have a bottle of wine.”
“I need to be clearheaded when Jazzi’s not in the house as chaperone, don’t you think?”
“There’s always Marjoram and Pepper,” Daisy joked.
But the smoldering look in Jonas’s eyes told her he wouldn’t be drinking too much wine tonight. He might even stick to tea. Their lives were just too complicated to take the next step.
* * *
Daisy wanted to talk to Ward Cooper privately, not within a group of people at a dress rehearsal. Sunday would go slowly waiting for Jazzi to come home. And she didn’t want to intrude on Vi, Foster, and Sammy too often. So after church, she headed for one of Rowan’s condo buildings, where Ward was staying.
She found the building easily. It was a four-story brick structure that had at one time been a warehouse. Once it had had historic value. Now, however, the brick building had been renovated. It was a square building without much adornment. She’d heard that there were two condos on each floor.
Granite steps led to a double door that opened electronically. Daisy didn’t see any sign of cameras or security, but then this was Willow Creek and security costs could be expensive. As the supermarket-type glass doors opened for her, she stepped inside to a foyer with mailboxes on either side of the corridor. They were small cubicles with a key lock and slots above each box where a postal clerk deposited mail. There were bins underneath each box, apparently for small packages.
She found the box with Ward Cooper’s name. He was in condo #302. Before she turned away, however, she noticed the name under the box beneath Cooper’s. Jasper Lazar. He was also in the play, and she wondered if maybe he was a permanent resident. There was an elevator to the left of the corridor and stairs to the right. She decided to take the stairs. Her lack of an exercise routine bothered her. She went for hikes around her property when she could, but with winter setting in, she knew she should sign up for an exercise class.
To her surprise, she really was breathless when she reached the third floor. Serving tea just wasn’t aerobic exercise, though lifting serving trays might have something to do with weight training. She easily found apartment 302 and she rang the bell. No one came to the door. She rang again. Still there was no sound from inside.
Remembering Lazar’s condo number, she headed back down the stairs to the second floor. Wandering down the hall, she found condo 201. What were the chances Jasper was home? She’d heard he’d retired from his HVAC business. In fact, he’d sold it to another heating and air-conditioning firm who had combined the two businesses, one in Lancaster and one in Willow Creek. It was all supposition on her part, but she imagined he’d received a pretty penny for the business.
She rang his doorbell and waited, studying the door that she expected to be of high quality. It wasn’t. Granted, it was an interior door and didn’t have to face the elements. On the other hand, if someone could put a foot through the door, how secure could it be even when locked?
She could hear footsteps and a moment later the door opened. Jasper looked about a decade older than her dad. In the play, he was playing a grandfather, which suited him. Right now, he had a bit of stubble along his beard line. He was wearing a green sweatshirt with a flannel shirt underneath. His navy cargo pants were heavy too. The outfit was definitely fashioned for cold weather and she wondered if he was going out.
His brows lifted and his brown eyes widened when he spotted her. “Mrs. Swanson. What are you doing here?”
“Please call me Daisy. I wondered if I might talk with you about Margaret and the play.”
“Come in,” he invited, waving his hand to motion her inside. “I’m afraid it’s cold in here. The heating unit for my condo isn’t working again, at least not the way it should. I’m an expert at that kind of thing. I should know.”
His voice sounded impatient, as if this weren’t the first time this event had occurred.
“I imagine it is frustrating to be an expert at something and then have to live with repairs of it.”
“Repairs? I only wish that were so. I’ve been calling about my lack of heat ever since the cold spell hit two weeks ago.”
“Rowan Vaughn owns this building, doesn’t he?”
Jasper gestured to the gray corduroy sofa, and she sat there while he took the black leather recliner across from her. “Yes, he does. But reaching Mr. Vaughn isn’t so easy. He has a management firm to take care of his properties. I’ve been hoping he’d stop in at rehearsals and I could talk to him there. Maybe accost him would be a better word. Isn’t it terrible that you have to make a scene sometimes in order to get anything done?”
Daisy really would rather avoid scenes if she could. She had intended to unzip her jacket, and she did so now more as an attempt to be casual with Jasper than anything else. The condo was chilly. “How long have you lived here?”
“Ever since Rowan renovated and took over the place—about two years. But there have been problems from the beginning.”
“You mean like the heat?”
“Or the air-conditioning. My guess is he had subpar systems installed. You can’t cheat on your HVAC units. It just doesn’t pay in the long run.”
“I suppose not.”
“And it’s not just the units, of course. Just look at those windows.”
Jasper’s condo was located at the front of the building. The windows were about six feet high and four feet wide.
Daisy tried to be positive. “I suppose you’re lucky to have a front-facing condo. These windows let in a lot of light.”
“Maybe. But see how the one’s cloudy? They are supposed to be double sealed for heat efficiency. Maybe the glass is but the way they were installed . . .” He shook his head. “Cold air comes in around the whole window in the winter, and in the summer it’s the same with heat. They look great from the outside and they’ll draw in customers to rent. But living here is another matter.”
“Why do you stay?”
“Because I signed a lease, and breaking the lease would cost more than I’m willing to pay. So I’m on the phone most days just trying to make this place comfortable. I don’t have it as bad as Ward, though.”
“You mean Ward Cooper, the lighting technician from the play?”
“Exactly. Rowan offered him an empty condo to stay in while he was in town. But Ward’s condo has different problems than mine.”
“Does he have insufficient heat?”
“Oh, yes, but he doesn’t seem to mind that. What he does mind is that his appliances don’t work as they should. And he hears scratching in the kitchen wall at night. You know what that means—mice. But he can’t complain because he’s staying there free. I have to admit Rowan did replace the microwave but the oven on the stove doesn’t work. I think one of the heating elements went out.”
“Is Glenda staying in a condo too?”
“Heavens no. I guess Margaret knew about the problems with these condos. She found Glenda a first-floor apartment in an old house on Spruce Street. The whole place has been completely renovated, and the landlady lives in the upstairs apartment. From what I understand, Glenda is quite happy with it.”
“Do you know if Ward, Keisha, Glenda, and Margaret were all friends in New York?”
Jasper gave a shrug. “I don’t know for sure. But apparently there are bars and restaurants where the artistic types go. My guess is they ran into each other someplace like that, though I did overhear Margaret and Glenda talking and I think the two of them have a history.”
“A pleasant history?”
“Again, I’m not sure. They bickered a lot but that was mostly about the play. Both insisted on having control so neither of them did.”
Thinking about the building again, Daisy asked, “Do you know if other renters have problems with their condos?”
Jasper crossed one leg
over his knee. “I’ve heard rumors. Scuttlebutt says that some of the renters have been paid off not to file lawsuits.”
When Jonas had looked into public records, he hadn’t found any information about lawsuits against Rowan. “That sounds serious.”
“An older woman slipped on a wet floor and she threatened to sue, but the matter was settled out of court. It just seems ridiculous that someone with the amount of money Rowan Vaughn has can’t find adequate repairmen to take care of his properties. Keisha Washington is staying in one of his other buildings but I don’t think she’s had any problems. My guess is it all depends on the manager of the building.”
“Can you tell me if the local people are getting to know Keisha and Ward and Glenda very well?”
“Keisha and Ward seem to have their own little club. Glenda and Margaret palled around sometimes but now that Margaret’s gone—” He looked forlorn for a moment. “I just can’t imagine why anyone would do that to her.”
“I can’t either. She’d been away from Willow Creek for so long, I can’t imagine she’d make that many enemies in the few years she was back here.”
“It’s easier to make enemies than friends, and you’ve got to admit, she did have an attitude. She acted like she and Rowan were better than anyone else. People with money are often like that.”
“Margaret didn’t always have money.”
“You’d never know that, though, would you? You’d never know she’d been raised Mennonite.”
“Do you know her sister Vanna?”
“I do. Vanna is like a sweet spring day. Margaret was more like a tropical storm. Controlled but a storm no less.”
“I didn’t know Margaret well but Vanna and I are friends,” Daisy confided.
Jasper eyed her with consideration. “Why did you really come to talk to me, Mrs. Swanson?”
Before she could answer, he snapped his fingers. “I get it now. I read that story the reporter did on the last murder investigation in Willow Creek. He quoted you several times. I got the feeling you were in on the investigation. Do you work with the police and just don’t tell anyone that?”
Murder with Clotted Cream Page 12
