Murder with Cucumber Sandwiches

by Karen Rose Smith

  “I feel so sorry for Harriet. She’s still trying to accept everything about her family. She told me she wishes she could have been a better mother to Derek. Under the circumstances, that probably would have required counseling.”

  Suddenly, the chatter of voices came from downstairs. A minute later Violet, Foster, and Jazzi climbed the stairs and saw them.

  Vi pulled out a knob and a drawer pull from the bag she was carrying to show to Jonas and Daisy. “Aren’t they perfect?”

  To Daisy they just looked like doorknobs and drawer pulls. But to Vi and Foster they meant the beginning of a new life.

  Jazzi wandered over to the window. It overlooked Daisy’s back garden and the house. Then she turned around and studied everything in the studio apartment, maybe imagining what it would look like when it was truly finished.

  “This place is going to be so cool. I could even live here.”

  They all laughed as Vi, Foster, and Jazzi went to the card table to select the perfect material.

  Jonas curved his arm around Daisy’s shoulders. “You made the right decision in renovating this level of the garage for their apartment. Vi and Foster will have a good start thanks to you.”

  “I hope so.”

  When Daisy gazed into Jonas’s green eyes, she realized that Jonas was beginning to see how her life was going to change with Vi and Foster living this close. Nevertheless, he seemed to accept that.

  He squeezed her a little closer. “Remember, I’ll be here to help you wrangle it all.”

  That was her greatest hope—that she and Jonas would come through this stronger than ever, closer than ever, maybe even more in love than ever.

  ORIGINAL RECIPES

  PIMENTO SPREAD

  8 ounces cream cheese (softened about 20 minutes

  and chunked)

  ⅓ cup shredded cheddar cheese

  1 ounce pimento, drained well (I buy a 2-ounce jar)

  1 teaspoon onion flakes

  1½ tablespoons mayonnaise

  4 or 5 sun-dried tomato halves (sliced)

  teaspoon garlic powder

  Pinch of nutmeg

  1. Add all ingredients to a two-cup food chopper and mix until smooth. Seasonings are suggestions. Adjust according to taste.

  2. Serve as a spread or a dip.

  EASY CAULIFLOWER CARROT CHEESE SOUP

  1 quart chicken broth (I use Swanson with no MSG)

  1 cup chopped or sliced onion

  5 cups cauliflower florets

  1 cup sliced carrots

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  ½ teaspoon white pepper

  2½ tablespoons flour

  1 cup milk

  12 ounces CV Sharp Cheese, cubed

  1. In soup pot, bring chicken broth with onion, cauliflower, carrots, salt, and pepper to a boil. Simmer for 15 minutes.

  2. Whisk flour into milk. (I whisk it right in the measuring cup)

  3. Pour whisked flour and milk mixture into the broth with the vegetables. Let mixture come to a soft boil for 2 minutes. Lower to simmer. Add cheese and stir until melted.

  Serves six to eight.

  RUM RAISIN RICE PUDDING

  1½ cups cooked long-grain rice (I use Carolina’s)

  3 eggs

  ⅓ cup granulated sugar

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  1 teaspoon rum (or almond, if you prefer) flavoring

  (I use McCormick’s)

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  2½ cups milk, warmed, but not scalded

  ⅔ cup golden raisins (I use Sun-Maid)

  ¼ teaspoon cinnamon to sprinkle on top

  1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF.

  2. Slightly beat eggs with mixer. Add sugar, flavorings, and salt until well mixed. Slowly stir in milk, one-half cup at a time. Stir in rice and raisins.

  3. Pour mixture into a 1½-quart casserole. Sprinkle the top with cinnamon. Ready a pan with hot water. I use a 9-inch by 13-inch cake pan. The casserole must fit into the pan comfortably. Hot water should be about an inch deep. Bake for 65 minutes or until knife inserted into the middle comes out clean. Remove the casserole from water. Can be served warm or cold.

  4. Refrigerate leftovers.

  Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of KAREN ROSE SMITH’s next Daisy Tea Garden mystery

  Murder with Cherry Tarts

  Coming soon wherever print and e-books are sold!

  Chapter One

  Daisy Swanson kept a keen eye on Karina Post as her server crossed to the sales counter at the end of their workday. Her twentysomething server with her purple hair and green neon clogs had given Daisy concern over the past couple of weeks. Daisy went by the philosophy that she should mind her own business . . . except when she shouldn’t. The mother of two teenage daughters, she couldn’t help but feel motherly toward her younger staff.

  Karina smiled at Daisy as she approached the sales counter at Daisy’s Tea Garden. She was usually a self-possessed young woman with plenty of confidence and sometimes even brashness.

  Now, however, Karina kept her eyes lowered as she asked Daisy, “Is it okay if I take some of the baked goods still left in the case?”

  Daisy noticed the bag Karina was carrying and recognized the size. In it there was probably a quart container of soup.

  “Sure, you can,” Daisy said. “I don’t want them to go to waste. The cherry tarts are fine, but some of the white chocolate blondies have been in the case since morning. They might be a little stale. It seemed everyone wanted cherry tarts today.”

  “It’s the special for the month, so that’s probably why,” Karina suggested, still not meeting Daisy’s gaze.

  “Has your mom been working extra hours at her shop?” Karina’s mom owned a leather shop in town, Totes and Belts. In the summer, tourists provided most of the business for the shops in town. Busloads could arrive unexpectedly and wipe out a store’s inventory.

  “No, she has a good manager who’s doing really well. I think she still wants me to come there and work full-time instead of working here. And I’m grateful to her. After all, she took us back in when Quinn was born. But we’re around each other enough as it is. I can’t imagine working for Mom too.”

  “Maybe you could move into that manager spot some day if you worked at Totes and Belts.”

  “That’s possible, but I’d rather go to nursing school. I’m thinking about starting when Quinn is older, maybe after she goes into first or second grade.”

  Karina was a single mom. Daisy didn’t know the whole story, but from rumors in Willow Creek’s gossip mill, she’d gleaned that Karina had run away and lived on the streets before Quinn was born.

  From things Karina had said, Daisy knew her mother Maris was a fine cook and she baked treats for Quinn. But for the past few weeks Karina had been asking for the day-old baked goods and buying quarts of soup if Daisy’s kitchen manager Tessa didn’t have any remaining in the pot at the end of the day.

  “Will Iris be in tomorrow, or do you need me to cover her shift again?” Karina asked.

  Daisy’s aunt Iris, co-owner of the tea garden, had caught a summer cold. She knew better than to be around customers or their food.

  “I spoke to her a little bit ago, and she feels she’s ready to come in tomorrow. Her sniffles are gone and so is her cough. But—I told her to come in for a morning shift. Can you come in for the afternoon?”

  “Sure. I always like picking up extra hours.”

  Karina sounded fine. She always acted as if nothing fazed her. But that didn’t mean her bravado wasn’t hiding something. Daisy took one more stab at coaxing information from her. “I hope you and Quinn and Maris enjoy the cherry tarts and soup.”

  Karina glanced away from Daisy and into the case. “Quinn tells me every day now that she’s a big girl since she turned three and doesn’t need her booster seat.”

  That was a non sequitur if Daisy ever heard one, and Karina had easily sidestepped her question. It was time to give up . . . for now. “They grow up too fa
st, that’s for sure. I can’t believe Violet’s going to have a baby of her own come November.” And the wedding will be in a few weeks, Daisy added to herself. The past few months had been a bit crazy.

  After Daisy packed up the baked goods and Karina left, she began taking the rest of their inventory from the case. Cora Sue, another one of her servers who had been sweeping the floor while she and Karina were talking, asked Daisy, “Do you need help?”

  Cora Sue worked full-time at Daisy’s Tea Garden. Her bottle-red hair pulled high on her head in a topknot was as bouncy and bubbly as she was.

  “Sure,” Daisy answered, eager to drive home.

  After the two of them finished emptying the case, Cora Sue picked up the box and said, “I saw you talking to Karina.”

  “I was,” Daisy responded.

  “I heard her ask Tessa for the bottom of the soup pot again.”

  Daisy decided to be forthright with Cora Sue. “I’m a little worried about her. She’s been taking second-day baked goods home for a while now, but she won’t say why.”

  “That’s not the only thing she’s being secretive about,” Cora Sue murmured.

  Studying her server, Daisy wasn’t sure whether she should become involved or not. A question or two wouldn’t hurt. “Do you think she’s in trouble of some kind?”

  “I really don’t know. My car was on the fritz last week, so I walked to work. It’s good exercise, only about a half mile. The shorter route takes me up Sage Street, which I know isn’t the best section of town. But I have taken kickboxing lessons, so I wasn’t too concerned. The thing was—I spotted Karina twice last week at the lower end of Sage Street.”

  “Did she see you?”

  “No, she didn’t, but I casually brought it up.”

  Daisy was always interested in clues. After all, she’d helped solve three murders. Clues had led her to the killer in every instance. “What did she tell you?”

  “She told me she enjoys looking around the antique shop in that neighborhood, Pirated Treasures. It should be called Pirated Junk.”

  A smile twitched up Daisy’s lips. She removed the band from her ponytail and let her blond, shoulder-length hair free. “I’ve passed the shop, but I’ve never been inside. You know what they say—one person’s junk is another person’s treasure.”

  Cora Sue grimaced. “I saw a broken bust of Benjamin Franklin in there one time. They’d glued it back together. It wasn’t pretty.”

  Daisy laughed. “So you shop in the store even if you don’t like it?”

  “No, a friend dragged me in there. She says she finds unusual things for her home décor. But mostly what she finds I wouldn’t pick up at a yard sale.”

  Thinking of Karina again, Daisy sobered. “Do you think Karina really shops in there or she was using it as an excuse?”

  “I don’t know. If she has to lie about why she’s on Sage Street, I have to wonder about her purpose for being there.”

  Realizing Cora Sue was right, Daisy told herself she should really mind her own business. But then again, what if Karina was in trouble?

  * * *

  That evening, Daisy backed her purple PT Cruiser out of her home garage, made a K-turn, then opened the driver’s side door.

  Her daughter Jazzi, sixteen now, had obtained her learner’s permit. Daisy dreaded thinking about Jazzi on the roads with all the crazy drivers who passed through Lancaster County, especially in the summer. On top of that, her daughter would also have to learn how to handle driving on the roads with horses and buggies. Sometimes there was a separate lane for them, but most times there wasn’t. In an accident between a car and a horse and buggy, the horse and buggy didn’t have a chance.

  Jazzi’s long, straight black hair blew in the hot breeze as she asked Daisy, “When are you going to let me back it out of the garage?”

  Daisy climbed out of the car, glanced at the garage, and then back at Jazzi. “I promise I’ll let you. Maybe tonight we’ll head over to Bird in Hand. The farmers market has a huge parking lot that will be closed. You can practice backing up there.”

  Daisy handed her car keys to Jazzi.

  Jazzi winked at her. “I’m getting good, Mom, honest. You don’t have to fear for your life when we go driving.”

  As Jazzi had probably intended, Daisy laughed. “You are so reassuring.”

  “What else are daughters for?”

  As if that comment caused Jazzi to think about something more serious, once they were seated in the car, she was quiet.

  Daisy guessed that meant Jazzi was thinking about her birth mother again. In the fall of last year, unbeknownst to Daisy, Jazzi had tried to search for her birth mother on the Internet. Daisy had known that time might be coming because she and her deceased husband Ryan had adopted Jazzi. Still, Jazzi’s search had been a shock.

  Knowing if she didn’t support her daughter Jazzi might pull away, Daisy aided her in finding Portia Smith Harding. They’d enlisted the help of Jonas Groft, a former police detective who now owned Woods, a furniture store just down the street from Daisy’s Tea Garden. At first Portia hadn’t told her husband about Jazzi. It had been a long-kept secret. Once she had told him, he’d felt betrayed and had moved out of their house for a while. That event had made Jazzi feel guilty, so guilty it had affected her schoolwork and her friendships. Finally, however, in the spring Colton had moved back in with Portia and their children. But Jazzi’s relationship with Portia now was tentative because of Colton’s attitude.

  “I wanted to ask you something, Mom.”

  Jazzi switched on her turn signal and made a right turn onto the rural road.

  “Ask me anything.” She hoped that was true. She hoped both of her daughters could trust her that much.

  “It’s only a few weeks until Vi and Foster’s wedding.”

  “I’m well aware we still have a lot to do on our to-do list. Vi and Foster have to decide on a cake, and I’d like you and Vi to help me shop for a mother-of-the-bride dress.”

  “We might have to take Gran shopping too. She still doesn’t approve of Vi and Foster getting married, does she?”

  “I think she’s accepted the fact that it’s going to happen.”

  Daisy had had a problem accepting it too. But pregnant, Violet had insisted it was what she and Foster wanted. They’d been adamant. So Daisy had helped them figure out how they could make it work. Raising a baby and supporting themselves wasn’t going to be easy. Since the floor above her garage hadn’t been finished when her barn home was renovated, she’d decided to finish it into a small apartment for the couple. That had always been the plan for added income. Or for one of her girls if either decided to live in Willow Creek. She’d told Vi and Foster they could live there rent-free for the first year. Foster’s dad, a contractor, had overseen the construction. It was finished now except for furniture.

  “When Gran sees her great-grandchild, I think she’ll be less disapproving,” Daisy reassured Jazzi.

  Jazzi still hadn’t asked Daisy her question, and Daisy suspected that she was working up to it.

  “I’m supposed to call Portia tonight.”

  “Okay,” Daisy said slowly, almost afraid of what was coming.

  “I’d like to ask her and her husband to the wedding. It would give me a chance to meet Colton and maybe spend a little time with them both.”

  Daisy had mixed feelings about the couple coming to the wedding, but this wasn’t really her decision to make. “You know Vi wants to keep the wedding small.”

  “I know.”

  “Why don’t you run the idea past Vi?” Daisy suggested.

  “Portia might just come herself.”

  “That’s true.”

  “If she and her husband both come,” Jazzi added,

  “I suppose they could reserve a room at the Covered Bridge Inn, or Tumbling Blocks Bed and Breakfast. That could be expensive for them though.”

  Jazzi’s comment was like a helium balloon that she wanted Daisy to bat back in some way. She
thought about the situation. “Vi will be moving into the apartment as soon as she and Foster find time to go shopping with Gavin to buy the mattress.”

  “I like that headboard they found at the antique store in Smoketown.”

  “Apparently, Foster has good negotiating skills,” Daisy said with a smile. She’d hired Foster Cranshaw as one of her servers back in the fall, never expecting him to become her son-in-law. He’d quickly become a valuable employee with his knowledge of tea and his social media skills that helped promote Daisy’s Tea Garden.

  After a pause, Jazzi glanced at her mom. “Are you saying Portia and Colton could have Vi’s room?”

  “Actually, they could have the whole upstairs if you slept on the pull-out couch in the living room.”

  A sly smile crept across Jazzi’s lips. “That’s a great idea, Mom. But I know you’re going to be busy with the wedding and all and might not want to entertain guests.”

  “That could be your job.” Daisy was half-teasing and half-serious.

  “What if Colton doesn’t like me?”

  “What’s not to like?” Daisy asked affectionately.

  “Mom . . .” Jazzi drew out the word as she always did when she was frustrated with her mother.

  “I’m serious, Jazzi. If Portia’s husband comes, then he should at least keep a bit of an open mind, don’t you think? Why else would he accept the invitation?”