Murder and Herbal Tea

by Janet Lane-Walters

  I don’t know why. Joyce has no motive since she planned to buy Brenda’s share of the business. I know how these things are seen by those in authority.

  If you’re angry, I’ll understand. You know how I feel about friends when they’re in trouble. Go to the dinner. Tell people I had a family emergency. Join me in Vermont tomorrow. I’ll leave my car there while we continue to Montreal after Joyce is cleared. Here are the directions and her address and phone number. I love you, Kate.

  I rinsed the glass, gathered my belongings and propped the note against the sugar bowl so Lars would see it. At the door, my passage was blocked by a large cat.

  “It’s not going to work. I’m going on a trip. Maria and Paul will feed you. Jenna and Richard are downstairs. They’ll keep an eye on the apartment.”

  The cat glared just like a spoiled child.

  “In two weeks or three, I’ll be back.” I didn’t mention the move to the house on the river Lars and I had bought. Cats are creatures of habit and hate moving especially when they know every hiding place in their environment. But that was a problem for another day.

  Thoughts of the new house surfaced. From the front rooms of my coming residence I could watch the way the river changed with the seasons and the weather. In the summer sailboats skimmed along and barges lumbered past. Chunks of ice formed in the winter. I could see the spot where I’d tossed the blade that had ended Rachel’s life. The knife was similar to one that had been owned by all my near and dear.

  Robespierre pushed his bulky body through the pet door. I exited and paused to lock. Both Paul and Jenna had keys and also knew of the clever hiding place in the banister. The cat paused on the landing and then continued down. The rolling case bounced on the steps behind me. Robespierre followed me to the car. His stare said a thousand nasty words.

  I backed from the driveway and drove to the bridge. Lars would be as angry as the cat but I felt no inclination to turn the car around. I’d been making my own decisions for too many years to change. There’d been no obey in the marriage ceremony. A friend was in danger of being arrested for a murder she had no reason to commit. I intended to learn who and why as quickly as possible.

  The other players in the drama were relatively unknown by me. I’d met them all a time or two. I’d heard about their doings from Joyce. Even Brenda had complained about her family though I wasn’t sure she had the right.

  Brenda had a controlling nature. Dana called her a “control freak.” Brenda had seemed intent on managing every facet of her environment and the lives of anyone who intersected hers.

  If I’d been that woman’s partner, I would have gotten rid of her five minutes after the ink dried on the agreement. Joyce had more patience but during the past two years she had burned the phone lines monthly with complaints about how Herbal Haven was becoming less and less hers. She’d wanted to add herbal beauty products to the store. Brenda had shattered that idea. Her reason. They weren’t making enough money to expand.

  Why? I had visited Herbal Haven and seen the flow of traffic. I had my suspicions.

  Brenda kept the books. Brenda created and maintained the website. Brenda wrote the ads. The only aspect of the business she had ignored was the greenhouse. Probably because she feared ruining her perfect manicure.

  I gripped the wheel. Even thinking about that woman made me tense and stirred anger.

  What did I know about the situation? Brenda lived in the apartment on the second floor of the shop. Though a teacher, she had been unable to earn tenure for several reasons. One had been her need to control not only her classroom but the entire math department of any school where she taught. Another had been the attention and favor she showed the young men in her classes. This had been one of the rumors circulating the area during her divorce.

  Brenda’s ex-husband wasn’t any prize. He was an attorney with an office in the Hudson River village where I live. His reputation was less than sterling and some of his clients lurked in the shadows.

  Her daughter was a student at the college where Dana taught. According to Dana, Pam spent more time partying than she did in class. Liquor seemed to be her escape from her mother’s managing ways.

  Jordan, Brenda’s son, had troubled teenage years. After a year in juvenile detention, he had followed his mother to Vermont to finish high school. I’d been told he had straightened his life out, graduated and now works for a local carpenter.

  These thoughts saw me through Connecticut where I made a pit stop and drank a mug of tea. Several times, the phone had played notes of Bach competing with the crashing Beethoven symphonies I prefer while driving. I let the calls go to voice mail. Answering while driving would take my attention from the road. I wasn’t about to pull to the side of the road each time I was summoned to listen to angry demands for my return. When I reached Joyce’s house would be soon enough to hear how rude I had been, a condition I was completely aware of.

  I made better time than I’d expected. Maybe I’d driven faster than usual but several factors helped. All the construction was on the other side of the road and there had been no accidents or gawkers. In less than six hours I reached my friend’s town. My stomach gurgled, reminding me of how long since my last food intake. Tea and toast for breakfast, a small appetizer and two tastes of cake. I would beg a snack from Joyce if she was at home. The way she’d hung up had made me fear the police had come to arrest her.

  There was no reason for them to suspect her. My conviction wasn’t just from friendship but from knowing there was no motivation. By Friday, Joyce would have been the sole owner of Herbal Haven and Brenda would have been on her way to any destination she chose.

  After passing through the center of town, I turned into the street where my friend lived. Soon the details of the crime would be mine.

  Dusk grayed the sky as I pulled into the driveway of her Cape Cod cottage. The house was dark. Fear skittered through my thoughts. My stomach clenched. Had she been charged with murder? Would I be able to see her? Where was the police station? I had no memories of seeing one during any of my visits.

  While I debated my next move, I decided to listen to the multiple messages. Before I hit the retrieve button Bach beckoned. “Hello,” I said.

  “Mom, where are you?” Andrew asked.

  “In Vermont. Ask Lars. He knows why I came.”

  “He isn’t here. There are dozens of people wondering where the two of you are. What should I say?”

  In the background I heard music, laughter and the hum of voices. “I told him to stay for the reception.”

  “He didn’t. Called me and Don. Told us to run the party. Why did you run off? Did something dreadful happen at the church?”

  “Other than Lars allowing Edward and his gang to haul him off to the office? Joyce has a problem and she needs a friend to prove her innocence.”

  He groaned. “What should I tell all these people? Don hasn’t a clue either.”

  “Tell them to enjoy the food and the music. Say Lars and I decided to make a quick getaway. Oh, how is the food?”

  “Delicious, as always.” He groaned. “You’re changing the subject. Did you say your friend murdered someone?”

  “She did not.”

  He released what I considered a sigh. “One of these days you’ll go too far and I’ll be looking for your murderer. Every time you encounter a body you put yourself in danger.”

  “I don’t find them. They find me. See to the dinner. I know Lars handled the financial end last week.”

  I pressed the disconnect and started on the ten voice mails. Three were from Lars. The others were from friends. Only Pete’s made me laugh.

  “Mrs. M, guess you’re off to solve another murder. Sure you don’t want the consultant job? Be careful and wherever you’ve landed, find a friendly officer to play backup.”

  A chuckle escaped. He understood I wouldn’t be distracted. Maybe I should have waited for Lars, but curiosity and my need to solve other people’s problems drive me forward. How cou
ld I ignore a friend when she had a problem? I only wished murder wasn’t the reason for my abrupt departure from the festivities.

  I listened to Lars’ messages. The first one was angry. The second one urged me to wait for him at one of the rest stops. I played the third one twice. “Kate, are you punishing me for being kidnapped by Edward? At least he wasn’t after my bank book this time. Just wanted me to run for Elder. Do not act rashly. I’ll be there soon. Love you.”

  I heard a hint of humor beneath the scolding. Once I reminded him of how my pitching arm saved his life, he would mellow.

  The porch light on the matching Cape Cod next door to Joyce’s house in the cul-de-sac came on. Two women stepped outside. Relief washed through me. I’d forgotten Dana lived so close to her mother. I left the car and walked to meet them.

  “What are you doing here?” Joyce asked.

  "Mrs. M, did something happen to stop the wedding?” Dana peered at the car.

  “The ceremony went well and so did the first reception. Skipped the second. Figured I should drive here.”

  Joyce hugged me. “Where’s Lars?”

  “Probably an hour or so behind, I told him to attend the dinner dance and come tomorrow. The man didn’t listen.”

  Joyce laughed. “Neither did you. There’s nothing you can do.”

  Dana shook her head. “Let’s go inside before the neighbors choose to join the party. Mom’s quite the attraction these days.”

  I did a circle and saw people sitting on their porches or in their yards. The aroma of barbecuing meat made me realize I was famished.

  Joyce swatted her daughter. “Enough.” She clasped my hand and moved toward Dana’s house. “I really can’t believe you came.” Inside the house she steered me into the kitchen. “I imagine you’re hungry.”

  “And parched. Drank the last of the tea from my thermos two hours ago.”

  Dana turned. “You could have stopped somewhere.”

  “Not me.”

  “Kate never eats when she’s driving. Insists food makes her sleepy,” Joyce said.

  “That’s the truth.”

  Dana opened the fridge. “What about a meatloaf sandwich with melted cheddar and iced mint tea?”

  “Perfect.” I turned to Joyce. “While I eat you can tell me about Brenda’s murder. I know you found the body but why did the police hold you for questioning and keep you overnight?”

  She made a face. “The district attorney recited a theory he heard somewhere that the person who discovers the body is the most likely killer.”

  “That’s foolish.”

  “He’s that.” She shook her head. “They kept asking question after question.” She filled three glasses. “I was bored and fell asleep.”

  I looked up. “A question. How did Brenda react when you told her she would have her money by Friday?”

  “Delighted but wary. She wanted to keep the buyout a secret.”

  “Why?”

  Joyce shrugged. “She didn’t say.”

  “Did anyone hear you tell her?”

  “I don’t think so, except maybe Jordan. He was doing some work in the kitchen putting up shelves.”

  I frowned. Had the young man let his knowledge slip to the wrong person? That still didn’t tell me why Brenda didn’t want people to know. Was this more of her control tactics? Would she have balked at the moment of exchange and asked for more?

  “I think she was wary of gossip,” Joyce said.

  Dana nodded. “I heard nothing around town and this place has the largest gossip mill I’ve ever encountered. Beats the ones in high school and college.”

  How different from where I lived. Many people knew what you were doing but they didn’t seem to care unless your actions harmed others.

  Joyce put her glass down. “While Dana makes your sandwich, tell us about the wedding. Then I’ll tell all I know.”

  “Went off without a hitch. Good turnout.”

  Dana sliced the meatloaf and laid slices of deep yellow cheese on top. “What did you wear?”

  “Dark green suit and a lighter green blouse. When Lars arrives you can see it if he has my luggage. The Guild did a great spread for the reception. I baked one of my chocolate cakes for the groom. Five tiers. Then Edward lured Lars away.”

  Joyce laughed. “He did what and why?”

  “He took him to the office. Probably because Lars has money and he will be living in town full-time now. He wants Lars to become an elder. That's why I came alone.”

  Joyce sipped her drink. “Won’t he be furious, especially when there’s nothing you can do here?”

  “You’d be surprised at what I can do. Lars will be angry but glad I arrived safely.”

  Dana slid the sandwich from the toaster oven. “Hope this is all right.”

  “Will be. I’m starved.” I ate a bite of the sandwich. “Now, give me the details of the murder.”

  Joyce paced from the table to the door. “Yesterday morning I drove to the shop for the basket of herbs and mint plants I planned to give you as a hostess gift and to remind Brenda I would be away until Thursday.” She paused at the sink and pressed her hands against the rim.

  Was she going to be sick? I waited for her to continue. “I wish I’d taken the basket home, then someone else would have found her. I unlocked the door, switched on the lights and walked to the stairs. She was lying at the foot in a pool of blood. I thought she’d fallen down the steps. I called 911 and waited for the police.”

  “Why do you think she had been murdered? She could have tripped and fallen.”

  Dana shook her head. “This was no accident.”

  Joyce sucked in a breath. “When the police rolled her over we saw she’d been stabbed. They found the bloody scissors under the counter. They were the ones we used while filling mail orders and should have been in the kitchen.”

  “What about her head? Was there bleeding from a head wound?”

  Joyce shrugged. “I have no idea. There was a lot of blood.”

  “Did they say which injury came first?”

  Dana leaned forward. “You sound like one of those detectives on the TV shows Mom likes. Would the police tell her any fact when they want her to be guilty?” She sighed. “Though Zach isn’t sure she’s involved.”

  Joyce patted her daughter’s hand. “I’m glad someone thinks I’m innocent. He’s been supportive. About your question though. Why would they tell me?”

  “To judge your reaction.” I finished the sandwich,

  “They said nothing.”

  Dana gathered the dishes. “None of this makes sense to me.”

  “Me either,” Joyce said. “I know I didn’t kill her but the officers said there are no other suspects and no evidence of my innocence.”

  “Surely they’re questioning everyone close to her.”

  She shrugged. “They told me nothing. Who could have had a motive?”

  “I can think of three people. Maybe even four.” I tapped my fingers on the tabletop. “Maybe a few more.”

  “Really.”

  “Yes. And you had no motive. You were buying her out. The money would have been in her hands by Friday. What about Jordan, Pam and what’s his name, her ex?”

  Joyce made a face. “Frank Pembut wouldn’t lift a finger to kill anyone. He’s too self-serving.

  I rose. “He could have hired someone.”

  “I doubt he cared.”

  “What about money?”

  “Once Jordan finished high school two years ago Frank was off the hook for child support. Brenda whined about the loss of extra cash.” Joyce collected my dishes. “Any way, Frank lives in New York.”

  “And can drive here the way I did.”

  “Everyone in town would have known if he stayed here,” Dana said.

  “Why would he stay here? There are motels less than an hour away. What about her children?”

  “Jordan has straightened his life around,” Joyce said. “He and his boss worked on the shop and the apartment. I�
��m impressed with how much he’s changed.”

  Dana nodded. “Mom’s right about him. Pam is too busy partying. She drinks like a desert plant in a sudden rain storm.”

  “Where does she get the money?” I asked.

  “She’s free with her favors,” Dana said. “At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

  “Didn’t Brenda have a friend?”

  Joyce laughed. “She’s made her way through most of the young men in town. Though in the past year or so she’s had a regular. Never met him. Why would he want her dead?”

  “We won’t know unless we learn who he is.” I stared at my hands. People kill for money, for a twisted kind of love, for hire, for jealousy, for envy for power and for anger. Someone knew the reason Brenda died. I intended to learn. The honeymoon was on hold until I had an answer.

  Chapter 4

  Dana started the dishwasher and left the kitchen. Joyce and I followed her into the living room. The clock struck nine thirty. My friend walked to the window and stared outside. She stiffened and grasped the sill. Her face paled. When she turned, I saw defeat in her eyes and her posture.

  “They’re here."

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Has to be the police.”

  Dana joined her mother. “I don’t recognize the car and I doubt the police would have such a nice one.”

  “What kind?” I asked.

  “Big. Gray or silver,” Dana said.

  I joined them in time to see a tall man emerge. In the glow of a streetlight, his hair seemed as silver as the sedan. “It’s Lars.”

  Dana grinned. “You’re busted.”

  “Looks that way. Let me do the honors.” I crossed to the door. The pair stared at me. Concern showed in their expressions but they didn’t know Lars. He’s always cool, even when facing death and he never jumps to conclusions.

  “How angry will he be?” Joyce’s voice shook.

  “Pretty upset until I explain. He knows how I feel about those who belong to what he calls my ‘extended family.’” For a moment I thought of how few people were in my immediate family, son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter. I reached for the door. “He’ll really be upset about missing a gourmet meal. Oh, he prefers iced coffee to tea.”