A Taste of Trickery (Japanese Tea Garden Mysteries Book 3)
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The story about the body being discovered on my property and the whole sordid episode with Mr. Seeton soon made the newspapers. Strangely enough, the whole morbid situation brought in fresh visitors like crazy. In the days that followed, the tea garden was busier than ever.
It was just as well that my new waterfall koi pond was nearly complete. The flowers and shrubs that I had the landscapers decorate the area with had all taken root and were growing nicely.
As I walked through the garden one evening, not long after my confrontation with Mr. Seeton, I came to the spot where I’d caught the crazed murderer. I sat down for a while. Everett Seeton, the murdered brother, would have a proper burial. There may not have been anyone to go visit his grave but there should at least be a marker in a cemetery to say he existed.
I took a seat on one of the large boulders as the sun started to set and listened to the water babbling over the smooth stones. I remembered how I had been so sure it was Zane Jones who had been causing all my problems.
“It wasn’t like he came over here with cupcakes and tried to be nice,” I mumbled to the trees and flowers. “He had an attitude right off the bat. Without proof, he accused my workers of being the ones who had trespassed across his land.”
Even as I spoke to myself, I knew I wasn’t being fair. Two wrongs didn’t make a right. I was guilty of making similar assumptions of guilt against Zane Jones, Daniel Walker, and everyone else at the quarry.
“You know what that means, Maddie.” I pulled my lips down at the corners. “It means that you are really no better than Zane Jones or any of the rest of them. That’s what it means.”
It was a bitter pill to swallow.
“Maybe there’s something I can do to smooth things over with those guys.” I didn’t think a free packet of my finest blooming teas would be something Daniel Walker or Zane Jones would appreciate. But, they might appreciate an apple pie. I’d just bought two bushels of apples to make pie for Mamma Jackie. Maybe I’d just throw another one in the oven and march it over there.
I could tell them, “Hey, sorry the lunatic who killed and buried his brother on my land was driving his tractor over quarry property. Here’s a pie.” The idea made me smile. I could add, “Yes, the lunatic tried to kill me too. Three times. But he failed miserably.”
I let my ego soar while imagining their expressions if I shared that last part. It was one-hundred-percent the truth. I wasn’t exaggerating. And who knew? Maybe my new friendly approach would make an impression. I felt a new optimism that, one way or another, I would find a way to get Daniel Walker to drop all his complaints against me and my garden.
The sun was really low now and the fireflies were out. They swarmed around in the warm air in lazy loops and waves, winking at each other.
The sight gave me an idea. Maybe I should have some decorative lights scattered around the property.
“Some of those multi-colored solar lamps would be nice,” I told the lighting bugs. “I think a couple of wind chimes out this way would be good too.”
A few more minutes, I thought, and then I’d go back to the house and watch television with Mamma Jackie. I quieted myself by taking deep breaths. With my eyes closed, I listened to the trees, to the birds, to the crickets that were starting their serenades.
It took me a moment to notice the sound of quiet footsteps.
I held my breath and squinted into the deepening shadows all around. I couldn’t tell if I saw something moving or not. Maybe it was an animal. After all, no one would blame me for being a little jumpy after everything I’d been through. Nothing moved as I sat frozen in place.
Finally, I saw it. Or rather, I saw her.
“Hey,” I called out to the woman walking the path. “The garden closes at dusk. I’m sorry but you can’t be here.”
I could tell it was a woman because her hair was in a ponytail and she had the delicate frame of a colt, thin and frail. As I walked up to the lady, planning to show her the way out of the garden, I could see I had scared her.
“I’m sorry.” She flinched, putting her hands up like I might hit her.
Immediately, I felt bad and approached her more cautiously.
“Well, it’s okay. But you’ll have to leave the garden. We open in the morning at about eight o’clock.” I smiled what was meant to be a reassuring smile.
Then I realized there was something familiar about her silhouette. She reminded me of a shadow I had once seen on the other side of a lace curtain. In a flash, I realized who I was talking to.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “You’re my new neighbor, Alice Merrick, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she admitted softly. “And you’re Maddie Morgan, the owner of this tea garden.”
Thinking of her past unfriendly behavior toward me, I was angry. I wanted to ask all sorts of questions but I remembered the lesson I had learned from Mr. Seeton. People did things for strange reasons and sometimes they weren’t what you expected.
I said, “You know, I baked you that pie recently to be a nice neighbor. You didn’t have to just leave it outside for the bugs.”
“What pie?” She looked confused.
“The pie I left you the other day. When you said you were going to call the cops on me.”
“I didn’t see any pie. But, then again, I was afraid to look very closely.”
“Because of me?” My heart fell to my feet. No one had ever been afraid of me before. I wasn’t exactly an intimidating person.
She looked at the ground and nodded.
I said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be a nosy, pushy neighbor. I had no idea I came off so badly.”
“It isn’t your fault,” she hastened to explain. “Strangers make me very anxious. I suffer from something called anthropophobia, but I’ve been getting better. At least, I thought I was, until I moved to this new place. But I’ve come to realize facing fears comes with its own set of new fears.”
Now I really felt awful. But before I could apologize again, she continued.
“I come to your garden at night because it’s so peaceful and, well, all the people are gone. I get to enjoy nature without having to worry about running into anyone.”
I thought of all the signs I’d discovered lately of nighttime intruders in the garden. The glowing lights I’d caught on my new security cameras had been explained away by Mr. Seeton’s tractor lights. But as it turned out, I had apparently been having two separate trespassers. And one of them was perfectly innocent.
I smiled at Alice. “You’ve run into me and you seem to be doing just great,” I said enthusiastically.
“I’m glad you think so. On the inside, I’d like to run home and slam the door.” She smiled back.
“Well, I won’t keep you.” I took a step back, hoping my gesture to give her space helped calm her nerves. “And forget what I said about the garden closing at dusk. In the future, if you’d like to visit the garden at night, please, be my guest.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. In fact, I was just thinking of putting a few colored solar lamps around. I think that will look lovely and it will also make it safer for you to walk after dark.”
“Oh, it would. That’s a brilliant idea,” she said, sounding grateful.
“I’ll look into it tomorrow, Alice. And you know what else? I’m baking my ex-mother-in-law a pie tomorrow. I’ll bake one for you too. Let’s try this neighbor thing again. I hope you like apple.”
I stretched out my hand for her to shake.
She took hold of my fingers tentatively and gripped then for a bare second before releasing.
It was good enough for me.
We parted ways and, as I watched my new neighbor continue on down the path, I was glad I had the chance to smooth things over with Alice. Heck, I even felt excited about smoothing things over with those hardheads over at the rock quarry. Most of all, I was relieved that another mystery had been solved and put behind me, so that my tea garden could continue to ope
rate in peace.
I turned my steps toward the pagoda at the top of the hill. I just wanted to check that the gift shop was locked up before leaving for the night. As I strolled down the tree lined way and breathed in the fresh scents of the garden, stars twinkled overhead. It was another beautiful night in Little River, Texas. I wondered what tomorrow would bring.
Read more cozy mysteries from Blythe Baker, starting with A Body on the Beach: Sunrise Island Mysteries, Book 1.
About the Author
Blythe Baker is a thirty-something bottle redhead from the South Central part of the country. When she’s not slinging words and creating new worlds and characters, she’s acting as chauffeur to her children and head groomer to her household of beloved pets.
Blythe enjoys long walks with her dog on sweaty days, grubbing in her flower garden, cooking, and ruthlessly de-cluttering her overcrowded home. She also likes binge-watching mystery shows on TV and burying herself in books about murder.
To learn more about Blythe, visit her website and sign up for her newsletter at www.blythebaker.com