Murder with Lemon Tea Cakes

by Karen Rose Smith

  Bennett might panic if he learned the police were holding the coin. Daisy needed to stall Bennett and keep him talking. Maybe then she could dial the right number.

  Her phone gripped tightly in her hand in her pocket, she asked, “Why are you doing this? Why would you kill Harvey, especially if he was your friend?”

  “After fifteen years of working together, I thought he was my friend, my mentor, more like a father than a boss. But after fifteen years, fifteen long years that I gave him of complete service and loyalty, he was going to sell the store right out from under me.”

  “I’m so sorry about that, Bennett. That was a terrible thing to do to you, especially after all those years. Didn’t he give you the option of staying on?”

  “There was no option. If some chain corporation came in and bought his store, they wouldn’t want me. They’d want someone they could pay a pittance to manage it. They wouldn’t care about real fashion. They’d just truck in the latest menswear from the ready-to-wear line, baggy jeans, oversized shirts, and coats with no style. It would have been a nightmare.”

  “It would have been a nightmare since you had so much experience. But you could have found another job.”

  “How many men’s stores are around here now, Daisy? I didn’t feel like packing up and going back to New York, or even to Philadelphia. My life is here. But not if I lost my job.”

  “You said you and Harvey were close. Couldn’t you tell him how you felt?”

  “I did tell him. He didn’t care how I felt. He was so wrapped up in divorcing Monica, so wrapped up in Iris, so wrapped up in the business of selling, he could hardly hear me when I talked. Even when I got him drunk, he didn’t care about me.”

  “You got Harvey Fitz drunk?” Iris asked, sounding surprised.

  When Bennett’s attention shifted to her aunt, Daisy took a quick glance at her phone and changed the screen to her keypad.

  He was still focusing on Iris as he answered her. “Yes, I did. You’d think he’d have better sense, wouldn’t you? He’d had a particularly bitter meeting with Monica about the divorce settlement. I knew he stashed a bottle of one-hundred-year-old cognac in the bottom drawer of his desk. I motioned to it, and he got it out. One drink led to another. And that’s when he told me.”

  Iris followed up with, “Told you what?”

  Daisy managed to press 9-1-1.

  “That’s when he told me he wanted to start a new life—a new life with you,” Bennett explained. Then he went on. “As if Harvey didn’t have enough money even after he gave Monica a settlement, he felt he needed a hidden asset. He decided on a gold coin. And he told me what he’d done with it. He’d given it to you for safekeeping. I didn’t think much about it at the time. I thought maybe it was a golden eagle or something like that because Harvey didn’t tell me what it was worth. But I found out its real name and value when Guy Tremont came into the store one day. I overheard him arguing with Harvey. Guy had been all upset because he’d found a coin missing from Harvey’s list of assets—a Coiled Hair Stella. I remembered the name. I researched a Coiled Hair Stella and was shocked at its value. But I wasn’t shocked for long. And I knew why it was missing from Harvey’s assets. He’d hidden it so he wouldn’t have to declare it and include it in his net worth for his divorce settlement. I decided I deserved that coin or its equivalent after all those years of overtime and pandering to Harvey and his family. If Harvey wanted to sell the store from under me, fine. I’d have a million dollars, one way or another.”

  Daisy heard a voice coming from her phone—the dispatcher? Hopefully, Bennett was standing far enough away that he couldn’t hear it. She asked, “So what happened the night you killed Harvey?”

  “I didn’t intend to kill him,” Bennett answered quickly. “I knew he was meeting Iris. I knew he often waited in your back garden until she came out. I followed him from the store that night. When he realized I had, I think he understood I wasn’t here for a cup of tea. I didn’t have murder on my mind. Who would? I was just thinking about blackmail. Knowledge is power, right? I had power because I knew about that gold coin. I knew what it would mean for Monica to know about it too. Harvey could make a deal with me in one of several ways. He could make me a partner in Men’s Trends. I’d run it, and he could travel with Iris. Or . . . if Harvey gave me the coin, I wouldn’t care if he sold the store. I’d researched a nice little village in Mexico where a million bucks could see me through my retirement.”

  “But I thought you didn’t want to leave Willow Creek.”

  “That was before everything changed. That was before Harvey betrayed me by intending to sell Men’s Trends. That was before I realized I could do whatever I had to do to make the rest of my life a happy one. You know, Daisy, no one ever thinks they’re a murderer, that they’re capable of violence. I never thought I was.”

  “Why did you kill Harvey?” The low voice had stopped coming from her phone. Was the dispatcher listening?

  “Harvey laughed at me,” Bennett answered bitterly. “Can you believe he laughed at me? Who does that to a friend? When I asked him for the Stella or a partnership in the store, he said I was crazy. He said I’d never have the guts to go through with blackmailing him. He said I might know about fashion, but I didn’t know about real life and how ruthless men operated. If I tried to blackmail him, he’d destroy me. He had connections, he said. He had friends, he said. Did I know what blackballing was? He said I was going to find out if I tried to blackmail him. He said if I thought he’d make me a partner, I was delusional. He made me so angry that I just picked up that unicorn and swung it at his head.”

  With everything Bennett had revealed, Daisy believed he was delusional. Why did he think Harvey would have agreed to any of it? To elude fraud charges for hiding assets? To partner with Bennett so Harvey didn’t have to concern himself with business issues? Because Harvey might feel some loyalty to Bennett based on their years of working together?

  “But Harvey’s gone now, and I want that gold coin,” Bennett said. “Where is it, Iris?”

  Daisy could see her aunt was trembling. “I don’t have it,” Iris assured him. “Honestly, I don’t.” She looked frantically at Daisy, trying to figure out what to say. If they told Bennett the police had the Stella, he could kill them both.

  Daisy glanced at the teapot on the table, with its scalding tea. In the next instant, her gaze connected with her aunt’s. Iris gave an almost imperceptible nod of understanding.

  All of a sudden, there was a knock at the tea garden’s front door. Why would someone knock when it was open?

  But Jonas was looking through, bending down, trying to see the latch on the other side. Daisy realized the door was locked. Bennett had paused there when he’d slipped inside. He must have locked it.

  Nevertheless, Jonas had given Daisy just the distraction she needed. She grabbed the handle of the teapot, rushed forward, and aimed the spout at Bennett’s face. With a flick of her wrist, she jerked the pot upward. Hot tea splashed over Bennett.

  When Bennett screamed, Iris took advantage of his injury and raised her broom. With a strong sideways hit, she swatted the gun from his hand. It skittered across the floor through the puddle of green tea and under another table. She ran to pick it up.

  From the corner of her eye, Daisy saw Jonas take a metal plant stake that decorated one of the pots outside and slam it into the glass on the door. The glass shattered. Slipping his hand through the hole, he opened the lock.

  Jonas rushed inside just as Bennett lunged at Daisy. “You burned my face. I’ll be scarred for life!”

  While Daisy tried to pull away from Bennett, Jonas crashed into him from behind. In a move she’d seen cops use on TV, Jonas spun Bennett around and pushed him to the floor on his stomach, his hands behind him.

  In the next instant, Iris scooped up the duct tape that had fallen from Bennett’s hand. She thrust it at Jonas. Swiftly, Jonas tore off a length of tape and wrapped it around Bennett’s wrists. Then he took the gun from
Iris.

  As Daisy finally pulled her phone from her pocket, she put it to her ear. But before she spoke to the dispatcher, her gaze met Jonas’s. She said, “Thank you,” knowing those two words couldn’t begin to convey the gratitude she felt.

  Standing over Bennett, the man’s gun in his hand, Jonas just smiled at her. “In thanks, you can have tea and scones with me once Rappaport cleans up this mess.”

  Daisy knew the night could be a long one, with questions to answer and statements to give. Tea and scones afterward with Jonas would be just what she needed. “It’s a deal.”

  She suddenly remembered where Jonas had been today. “What about Portia Harding? What happened?”

  A police car’s siren screamed outside.

  Any news about Portia Harding would have to wait.

  Epilogue

  Two Weeks Later

  It was an end-of-October day when the soft hum of two voices emanated from Daisy’s kitchen into her living room. She looked up to Jonas for confirmation that they’d done the right thing by bringing Jazzi and her birth mother together.

  Jonas had arrived with Portia Smith Harding about twenty minutes ago. He’d driven to Allentown to get her and was going to take her home again this evening. Daisy would be serving lunch in a little while. First, she’d wanted to give Jazzi and Portia time to talk.

  Jonas suggested, “Why don’t we go outside and give them some real privacy.”

  The sun was shining brightly on the Indian summer day. Daisy grabbed a sweater coat but still hesitated to go outside.

  Jonas could see her hesitation. He reminded her, “We’ll be right on the other side of the door.”

  Daisy took a last glance toward the kitchen and followed him out. On the porch, Daisy said to him, “Tell me everything Portia said in the car. You had a long ride with her.”

  “Yes, I did, but we didn’t talk much. I didn’t learn much more than I already told you. She hasn’t spoken to her husband about Jazzi yet. He knows nothing about her giving up a child for adoption fifteen years ago. She’s not sure she wants to disrupt her life by bringing it all into the open.”

  “How did she explain you picking her up today?”

  “Her husband’s away on business, and her children are with her sister. I think she told her husband she was going shopping with friends for the day.”

  “Lies,” Daisy said with a shake of her head. “One lie always begets another. I’m so afraid she’s not going to want Jazzi as a constant in her life.”

  Gently, Jonas placed his hands on Daisy’s shoulders. “That day I first met Portia, she was shocked when I told her about Jazzi and that her daughter wanted to meet her. We all understood she needed time to think about what she wanted to do next. She seems like a kind, if confused, woman to me. Anyone can see that Jazzi’s a lovable young lady. After their conversations today, I predict Portia will accept Jazzi into her life. But she has to get used to the idea, and you have to give her time and space. Jazzi does too.”

  Daisy sighed, knowing Jonas was right, knowing she had to be patient with Portia as well as Jazzi for all their sakes.

  Turning to another topic to distract herself from what was going on inside, she asked Jonas, “Have you learned anything more about Bennett?”

  Jonas removed his hands from Daisy’s shoulders and nodded. “From what I understand, Detective Rappaport found blood evidence in the trunk of Bennett’s car, most likely from the unicorn statue. He found the statue in Bennett’s closet, wrapped in one of his expensive silk shirts. I thought Bennett would lawyer up. But he confessed and is awaiting sentencing.”

  “For a bright man . . .” Daisy let the sentence trail off.

  “In my experience, I’ve found criminals are often stupid about their crimes. Maybe because they lose their heads in the moment. Maybe because their motivation outweighs logic. Is Iris still seeing a counselor?”

  “She’s had two sessions, and a third is planned for next week. I think it’s helping. She says she wants nothing to do with the gold Stella coin even if a judge decides it’s hers. She’d give most of it to charity. She’s stayed at her house alone for the past two nights. That’s the first since Bennett tried to kill us.”

  “And what about you?” Jonas’s green eyes were steady on hers.

  “You’ve been my counselor,” she said with a small laugh. “You let me vent when I need to.”

  “All I do is listen.”

  Jonas had been doing a lot more than listening. He’d been supportive and helpful and kind ever since this whole thing had started. “I think the interview that Iris and I did with Trevor helped us deal with all of it too.”

  “I saw that the interview was picked up in area papers and on reporters’ blogs. Trevor gave a fair perspective with his questions.”

  Daisy returned to the subject uppermost in her mind. “You said you predict that Portia will let Jazzi into her life. What makes you think that?”

  “She has kids, and she did talk about them. From what little she said about her husband, he seems to be a good guy. Besides, when I make a prediction, it usually comes true.”

  When Daisy didn’t respond, just gazed up at Jonas, lost in the caring she saw there, he said, “I have another prediction too.”

  “What?”

  “I predict we’re going to be more than friends.”

  Then he gave Daisy a hug, and she believed that his prediction could indeed come true.

  ORIGINAL RECIPES

  Daisy’s Leek and Potato Soup

  3 tablespoons high heat sunflower oil

  1 cup onion

  3 leeks, diced (about 2 cups)

  1 cup celery, chopped

  1 clove of garlic

  3 tablespoons flour

  1 quart chicken broth (I use Swanson 100% Chicken Broth/99% fat free)

  2½ to 3 cups peeled potatoes in small chunks

  2 cups carrots, sliced

  1 bay leaf

  1 teaspoon salt

  ¼ teaspoon pepper

  1 cup milk

  Trim top and bottom of leeks. Cut lengthwise and soak in water 10 minutes.

  In a 4½–quart pot, heat sunflower oil and sauté onion, leeks, and celery for about 3 minutes. After the mixture starts to sizzle, add garlic. Add flour and stir well. Add chicken broth and bring to a boil. Add potatoes, carrots, bay leaf, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil again, then simmer until potatoes are tender (about 20 minutes). Add milk and simmer 5 more minutes.

  Makes 6 servings.

  Tessa’s Carrot Salad

  2½ cups shredded carrots

  ⅔ cup golden raisins

  2½ tablespoons light mayonnaise

  2½ tablespoons light sour cream

  1½ tablespoons lime juice

  1½ teaspoons honey

  ½ cup chopped pecans

  2 cups seedless green grapes (washed and drained well)

  Mix together carrots and raisins in a medium bowl. Mix together mayonnaise, sour cream, lime juice, and honey in a small bowl and pour over the carrot mixture. Stir well. Add chopped pecans and grapes. Stir and serve or refrigerate.

  Serves 6.

  Iris’s Lemon Tea Cakes

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

  1 cup butter, softened

  1½ cups granulated sugar (plus 2 tablespoons to garnish the baked cookies)

  3 eggs

  2 teaspoons lemon zest

  ½ teaspoon salt

  2½ teaspoons baking powder

  1 teaspoon lemon extract

  3 cups flour

  Cream softened butter and granulated sugar until fluffy. Add eggs and beat until smooth. Add lemon zest and mix again. Add salt, baking powder, and lemon extract, and mix well with mixer. When you add the flour next, do it in ½-cup portions so batter is thoroughly mixed and smooth.

  Drop rounded tablespoons of batter onto a well-greased cookie sheet. I don’t use non-stick. Make sure there is space around each cookie because they grow.

  Bake at 375 degrees
for 11–12 minutes until golden brown around the edges. When you remove cookies from the oven, sprinkle with granulated sugar. Then quickly remove them from the pan and cool.

  Makes about 34 cookies.

  Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of Karen Rose Smith’s next Daisy’s Tea Garden mystery

  MURDER WITH CINNAMON SCONES

  coming soon wherever print and e-books are sold!

  Chapter One

  The Victorian house with its gray siding and white gingerbread trim loomed in front of Daisy Swanson as she and Tessa Miller approached it. The early January darkness had wrapped around the town of Willow Creek, Pennsylvania, early tonight with a cloudy pewter sky before sunset and the prediction of snow later. Daisy wasn’t sure she should have let Tessa talk her into coming here to Revelations Art Gallery with her after hours. But Tessa was the chef and kitchen manager at Daisy’s Tea Garden and Daisy’s best friend. They’d been confidantes since high school. Still . . .

  Daisy voiced her concern as a gust of wind blew her wavy shoulder-length blond hair across her cheek. She brushed it behind her ear, thinking she should have worn her hat. The temperature was below freezing. “I don’t know if I should have come with you.”

  Walking along the side of the house to the back door of the art gallery, Tessa assured her, “I’m just going to pick up my sketchbook and leave your cinnamon scones on Reese’s desk.”

  Tessa had been dating Reese Masemer, the owner of Revelations, since her show in October. She’d left her sketchbook there when she’d stopped in to have lunch with him.

  Tessa went on, “You know you want to see the quilt display Reese set up. Quilt Lovers Weekend is coming up in a little over three weeks. I’m sure Reese won’t mind you being in the gallery with me. He knows you and I are close friends.”