A Taste of Trickery (Japanese Tea Garden Mysteries Book 3)
Page 9
“Fine, don’t come out,” I called. “But you can’t stay in there forever. Sooner or later, we’re going to have a talk about what you’ve been doing trespassing in my garden at night.”
Maybe I was taking this too seriously but, in light of all that had happened, how could I not wonder if this new neighbor was somehow crazy enough to be sabotaging my garden? Of course, the trouble had begun before she’d really moved in. Then too, I couldn’t think of a motive right away. But maybe she was loony. Did loony people need a motive? Heaven only knew what this woman was plotting and scheming behind her closed blinds and doors.
Besides, to not even take the pie I had baked for her inside, to just leave it out on the porch like garbage was above and beyond rude. I knew what it was like to be an outsider in a new town, to feel strange and a little bit lost. But if someone went out of their way to bake me a flipping pie, even if it were rhubarb pie, which I hated, I’d take it graciously.
When I finally gave up getting any response, I took my pie away with me, as I left the porch and headed home.
Once I was back inside my own house, I went to the garbage to drop the pie into it.
Mamma Jackie was already back and Drake had left as he had said he would.
“The neighbor didn’t like your pie?” Mamma Jackie asked. “I’m not surprised. You aren’t really a baker.”
“Rawk! Lazy!” Moonshine added.
“She didn’t even taste it,” I said hotly. “She left it on her porch all night. Only the bugs got to enjoy it.”
Then, the worst thing happened. Tears came to my eyes. The last thing I ever wanted Mamma Jackie to see was me crying. But with one simple gesture that new neighbor blew the reputation I had worked so hard to build.
“I knew I should have kept the pie for us.” I quickly wiped the corner of my eye and turned my back to my ex-mother-in-law. There were a few things in the sink that had suddenly become the most important task in the house. I set to washing them so I wouldn’t have to face her.
“You should have kept it,” Mamma Jackie replied, more kindly than I expected. “Some people just don’t deserve a good pastry.”
I nodded my head and held my breath as I listened to Mamma Jackie’s footsteps leave the kitchen and head out to the veranda. Except, she didn’t stop there. I looked out the kitchen window that gave me a beautiful view of my green and brown backyard and saw my ex-mother-in-law staring in the direction of the new neighbor’s house.
For a second I was sure she was going to go over there. That would have been interesting, the two of them in a battle of wills. Who would survive? My money was on Mamma Jackie. Always.
However, she just sort of stared, like she was studying the place. I didn’t know what was going through her head but I let it go. The four dishes in the sink were now clean and the ruined pie was in the garbage. I’d make another pie in a few days and share it with Mamma Jackie. I’d get some ice cream too. The old biddy would like that.
In the days after I shouted at the neighbor’s front door, I tried to keep an eye on both her property and mine. If she was doing anything on the grounds late at night, I was going to catch her.
Sunrise turned to sunset a couple of times without incident. As I watched the house next door, I tried to understand what could be the woman’s motivation. She didn’t know me. She never came out of the house, at least not when the sun was up. That brought up a dozen different theories about ghouls and vampires and grave-robbers that I quickly pushed out of my mind.
Plus, from the tiny sliver that I had been able to see of her through her curtains, she didn’t look like someone who would be strong enough to push me so hard I’d go over the wall at the Mission. That had to be someone in better shape, or at least younger. If I had to guess, I’d say it was someone who was Zane Jones’ age and strength.
One afternoon, I powered up my laptop and began my media campaign announcing the reopening of the tea garden and a special for all children under six. It was a simple bag of chamomile tea in a pretty satchel. One was decorated with flowers for girls and the other had a camouflage design for little boys. It was a fact that chamomile tea helped people go to sleep. After a long day outside, hiking, exploring, and eating, a cup of chamomile could be any mommy’s best friend.
I also contacted the newspapers and corresponding websites and let them know I was reopening. The webpage was updated. I called Kelly to tell her she should be ready to come in to work tomorrow.
My planned date with Michael Sullivan had never materialized and I’d had no recent conversations with him, other than a voicemail giving me the all clear to reopen the garden when I was ready. It seemed like I was ready to do just that.
Then I remembered the video cameras. With my mind on other things, I’d almost completely forgotten I had a paltry but operational surveillance system running.
Snatching up the handwritten instructions Kelly had given me, I logged in and began reviewing the footage.
The first camera gave me a clear image from the gift shop over the past few days. No one was lurking about, judging from the footage I watched. But the second camera gave me nothing but static.
“That was where the tracks were,” I muttered, feeling a new rush of adrenaline.
“What are you mumbling about?” Mamma Jackie asked, as she entered the room, slinging her purse over her shoulder.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
Judging by her outfit, it was someplace different. I was used to the animal prints but this was a cheetah spotted moo-moo with gold bejeweled flip-flops. Her gray hair was pulled back in a zebra striped scarf. She actually looked quite nice.
“None of your business,” she answered.
“Are you meeting someone?” I prompted.
“Didn’t you just hear me say it’s none of your business?”
“Well, when will you be back?”
“When I feel like it. Make sure there’s ice in the freezer,” she added, obviously trying to distract me. “I can’t drink a lukewarm julep.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You aren’t my mother,” she snapped. “But if you have to know, they’re having bingo at the church on Red Sand Street.”
“Oh, is that all?” I shrugged. “Well, fine. Have fun.”
She dismissed me with a wave and walked out the front door, jingling from half a dozen beads and baubles hanging off her ears and wrists.
“Someday I’m going to write a book about you, old woman,” I grumbled. “I’m going to document every word that’s ever passed between us. An expose on life with the real Mamma Jackie.”
15
As Kelly got things moving in the tea garden gift shop and the cars started pulling into the parking lot, I was feeling that maybe the worst was behind me.
I hadn’t told anyone about my experience at the Mission. If I told Drake, he’d just scold me for even going in the first place. If I told Michael, he’d scold me for failing to call the police. Then he’d ask me to go to dinner. Sure, I’d love dinner eventually, but my mind was focused on protecting my business right now.
When it came down to it, no one was going to defend this place like me. It was more than just a chunk of property. It was my inheritance. A connection to family I didn’t get the chance to know in person. So, I was getting to know them a little more every day, with every bloom and every koi in the ponds and all the nooks and crannies of the house. The men in my life wouldn’t understand that.
So, as visitors began their adventures in the tea garden, I decided to roam the grounds as well. There were quite a few familiar faces. A few of the artists who came with their sketchbooks and paints were there. The sound of children laughing and talking came from the small picnic area by the wildflower gardens.
Slowly, I made my way to the pagoda to check on why I was only getting static from the camera. My question was answered quickly. I saw the camera dangling by a cable. It had obviously been knocked down with a stick or maybe by some rocks
thrown at it.
“That’s worse than having no surveillance,” I told myself.
Seeing the camera disabled and hanging there, lifeless, made me feel even more uneasy. I looked in the direction of my new neighbor’s house, gritting my teeth.
I walked up to the camera and tried to reach it on tiptoe, in order to pull it down. It was no use. I was too short. I’d have to go all the way back up to the shed by the gift shop and grab the ladder. Just as I was about to start back in that direction, I heard a scream.
Taking off at a run, I followed the path in the direction of the sound and quickly found the source.
Up ahead, in the middle of the path was a teenage girl lying on her back. A guy, maybe her boyfriend, was next to her, telling her to lie still as two other kids came rushing up to help.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “I’ve seen you guys here before. I’m the owner, Maddie. Can you move?”
“Yeah,” the girl said. “I’m Maggie. This is my boyfriend, Gary. That branch just fell.” She pointed to a huge thick branch lying on the ground. “We were walking along here, like usual. We like to sit at the koi pond and that place where all the butterflies are.”
I nodded because I knew where she was talking about. Her arm had been badly scraped. An angry patch of pink skin with darker scratches across it had developed near her elbow.
“Gary and I were just walking and, the next thing I knew, this branch came down. It hit my arm, knocking me to the side. Then I tripped on that root and landed hard on my fanny.”
“Did you hit your head? Can you see okay?” I fussed, worried the girl had a concussion or worse.
“No, I’m fine. There’s just this scratch. With a little iodine, it’ll be good as new.”
She pushed herself upright and used Gary’s hand to help her to her feet. “I’m really all right. I think my pride is the only thing damaged.” She blushed.
The tree the branch had fallen from was healthy and strong. There were no rotten or dried limbs on it.
“The branch looks like it’s been cut,” Gary said.
He pointed to the thick end of the limb and where it had broken off from the tree. The bark was smooth, except for a couple inches where the weight of the branch had pulled it from the rest of the tree.
“I’d call the police,” Gary suggested.
He was right. The branch had been cut. The slightest breeze or even footsteps walking past the trunk could easily have brought it down.
Once we were all at the souvenir shop, I did as Gary suggested. I called the police. Of course, Michael arrived with another uniformed officer.
“Is this the only way I’m going to get to see you?” he whispered, as I led him to the spot where the branch had fallen.
“Sorry,” I said honestly. “I’ve been really busy. And look at me now. I’ve just reopened the garden because the inspectors said the place was in good shape. My ex-husband went through it, taking pictures and documenting everything so I’d be covered. But just when I think things are going to be all right, a branch nearly falls on some girl.”
I lead him to where I thought the branch had fallen, but I couldn’t find it. The kids were walking behind us, giving their statement to the other officer.
“Isn’t this where it happened?” I asked the youngsters.
Gary was the first to nod his head. “Yes. I remember because that root is what caught Maggie’s foot,” he said. “See? It looks like a figure eight. This is definitely the spot.”
“But where is the branch?” Maggie asked, looking around.
I glanced in the direction of my new neighbor’s house. Could she have run in here and grabbed the branch and left with it? To what end?
“There’s where it came from.” Maggie pointed up to where the perfectly smooth, sawed-off stump remained on the tree.
“How many visitors are in the garden right now, Maddie?” Michael asked me, as he took out his little notebook and began to scribble his notes.
“I don’t know for sure. A couple dozen maybe.” I was flustered. “But I think we would have seen if any of them were carrying a huge branch that’s at least five feet long.”
I began to pace. I’d just reopened the garden. This was getting to be too much. I couldn’t stop it. Tears filled my eyes. I stomped off a few feet to stare at nothing while Michael told the officer to take Gary and Maggie and their waiting friends back to the parking lot.
“Are you all right?” he asked me.
I smiled weakly. “What do you think?” I asked. “Someone is doing this. It’s obvious now that these incidents aren’t accidents.” I pointed to the stump where the branch used to be.
“Any ideas?” he asked.
“Several,” I reminded him. “I’ve told you guys about the men from the rock quarry. Zane Jones, Daniel Walker, and heaven knows how many other workers they’ve got trying to drive me out of business. They want my property.”
Michael didn’t appear convinced. “Look, I know Daniel is a bully. I know Zane Jones too.”
“How do you know him?”
“He’s been around Little River long enough for me to host him in the drunk tank a couple of times and break up a few bar brawls he had a hand in starting. The guy’s not the brightest.”
“That’s plain to see.”
“But I don’t think they’d do this.”
I bit back my frustration. Clearly, I was getting nowhere with Michael or the police in general. I was beginning to think this whole business was hopeless. But then I recalled how I had pulled myself back over that wall the other night at the Mission. I did that alone. I had saved myself without help from Michael, Drake, or anybody else. And now I would just have to do it again. I’d find who was sabotaging my garden and, when I did, somehow, I would deliver the guilty party to the police myself.
As if sensing my frustration, Michael stepped up to me and put one arm around my shoulder, pulling me in tightly. His arm felt strong and solid and very reassuring. My head automatically leaned on his shoulder.
“I just feel like I’m not getting a break at all,” I said. I explained about the camera being knocked down and the weird behavior of my new neighbor.
“Alice Merrick?”
“Is that her name?” I asked. “How do you know?”
“It’s my job to know what’s going on around town.”
“Well, what can you tell me about my rude neighbor?”
“Not much. Just that she moved here from New Jersey.”
“You’re holding back. What else do you know about her?”
Michael rubbed the back of his neck and took a deep breath.
“The police station was notified of her moving into town.”
“What for?” I prepared for the worst, thinking it could be anything from tax evasion to cannibalism.
“Well, without giving up private information, I’ll just say that she had a history of altercations with neighbors and I believe an accidental death was involved. I can’t really go into too much more.”
“Is she dangerous? She’s living right next door. It’s not just me I’m worried about. Mamma Jackie is no one to be trifled with.”
“I’m fairly confident that you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Fairly confident?”
“Come on. Let’s go over to your house. We can’t do anything else here. And I wouldn’t shut down the property yet. No one got hurt.”
“Are you seriously saying I should wait until someone does?”
“You said the inspectors checked the place. Your ex-husband took photos. This is obviously an issue but you did the right thing and got the police involved. Let’s give it just a little more time.”
Having Michael there did make me feel better but I was a jumble of emotions on the inside. I was angry and terrified and frustrated all bound up with the twine of helplessness. Even with Michael, the notes from the inspectors, and Drake’s photos, I was losing confidence in my ability to keep the garden.
16
THERE WAS A PROBLEM AT THE MISSION.
“Yeah. No kidding there was,” I muttered.
“What’s that?” Michael called from the front room.
“Nothing. I just got a bill from the contractors, inspectors, delivery something or other.” I waved my hand in typical Mamma Jackie style from the front door where the mail was dropped.
NOT A SAFE PLACE.
MEET ME AT THE COCINA AL AIRE LIBRE
TOMORROW AT NOON BY THE FLOWERS
I’LL FIND YOU
COME ALONE
Quickly, I folded up the letter and stuffed it in my purse, which was resting on the dining room table just a few feet from where Michael was now taking a seat.
“Are you ready for some tea?” I asked.
“Sure.” He gave me a weary smile.
I pulled two cups down from the cupboard and made us each a mug of oolong. It smelled earthy and was gold in color, like chicken broth.
“What’s the matter?” I pulled a dining room chair out and placed it next to Michael’s.
“I know you have a lot on your plate, Maddie,” he said, holding the steaming mug in his hands. “But I have to tell you that I think you’d feel better if you’d let someone share the load with you.”
His words were kind and I could see by the way he swallowed that he was searching for the right thing to say that would get through to me.
“I’m not trying to be this night in shining armor or anything,” he continued. “But I want to be there for you.”
I thought about it. Maybe the time was right.
I said, “I’ve got to tell you something but I don’t want you to get mad.”
He raised his eyebrows.