Mrs. Pallermo waved Daisy’s words away. “My dear, I will walk here myself as long as I’m able. When the time comes that I can’t, I suppose I’ll have to have help. But that time isn’t here yet. Did you hear about the senior center the town is thinking about adding on to the fire hall?”
“No, I didn’t,” Daisy said. She’d been so tied up with the tea garden and Quilt Lovers Weekend, she hadn’t kept up.
“It’s not a reality yet,” Mrs. Pallermo explained. “There is money to be raised and council members to coax onto the right side. But it’s a possibility. Just think, I could play bingo at my church and at a senior center.”
Daisy smiled. “Then I hope it comes to pass. You enjoy your soup and goodies.”
Iris was putting the older woman’s purchase into a shopping bag as Daisy went into the kitchen. Eva was washing a few teapots and Tessa was standing at the window looking out at the back. Daisy went over to her, then laid her hand on her friend’s arm. “Hey, Tessa. Can you come into my office with me for a minute?”
Tessa studied her as if she’d been someplace far away. Then the present took over once again. “Sure, I can. Is there a problem?”
Daisy began walking toward her office, removing her jacket. When they were inside, she closed the door. After she hung her jacket on the clothes rack, she pulled her desk chair around to the front of the desk so she was facing Tessa.
“There’s something we need to talk about.”
“What? I know I’m a bit distracted, but I promise, I’ll get the baked goods out in the case.”
“It’s not that,” Daisy assured her. “I told you if you need time off, just let me know. I’ll increase Karina’s hours.”
“I feel better working,” Tessa assured her.
“Okay. That’s fine. But I was just over at Quilts and Notions.”
“Are you going to join the quilting circle?”
“Maybe, but Rachel told me something that troubled me.”
“What?”
“She said that one of her customers told her about an argument you had with Reese at the gallery, and other people overheard it. What was that about?”
Tessa shook her head. “It had nothing to do with what happened to him.”
“The fact that others overheard it makes it relevant because any one of them could tell Detective Rappaport you were fighting with Reese.”
“I was upset with him. We were getting closer, spending more time together, but he wouldn’t tell me about his background.”
“What made you ask?”
“How do you know something made me ask?”
Daisy shrugged. “Usually something happens and that changes the discussion between two people.”
“Something did happen,” Tessa admitted. “Reese had a teenage visitor over the holidays—the son of a friend. Reese spent two days with him, too busy to include me. I didn’t mind at the time because I wanted to paint. If you remember, I also spent extra hours here. But when I asked him, Reese just wouldn’t talk about it. That didn’t make any sense to me.”
“You don’t like to talk about your past,” Daisy reminded her.
“No, I don’t. But both my parents are dead. I don’t have any family. Why wouldn’t Reese talk about a friend and his or her son?”
“I’ve known Jonas as long as you’ve known Reese. Granted, we weren’t seriously dating the way you two were, but Jonas has been closemouthed about his past too. Do you think that means he has something to hide? It might be nothing to hide at all. He might just not be ready to share it with me.”
“But Reese and I—you know. I was spending nights there. I never just wanted a fling.”
“Did he know that?”
Tessa groaned. “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe that’s all I was. Why does communication with the opposite sex have to be so hard?”
“I don’t know if it’s so hard. I do know that sometimes we’re afraid to push.”
“Did you push with Jonas? Is that why you two argued?”
“We didn’t argue exactly. And maybe I did push because I wanted to know where I stood.”
“You can’t find out if you don’t talk to him again.”
“Enough about me and Jonas. You need to ask Marshall if you should tell Detective Rappaport about that argument.”
Tessa was thinking about that when suddenly there was a rap on the office door. Daisy could see Iris through the glass. She motioned to her aunt to come in.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you two, but someone’s here who wanted to give Tessa his condolences. Should I just tell him another time?”
Already Tessa was rising to her feet. “No, of course not. I’ll come out.”
When Daisy followed Tessa into the tea room, she recognized the man waiting for her friend. George Beck often stopped in for a cup of tea and a scone. He was in his late forties with light brown hair laced with gray. His goatee, a little darker than his hair, seemed unusual for an accountant. Many of the small businesses in the community used his services. He and Reese had come in together more than once. So she assumed they had been friends, maybe even good friends. He was the one person she remembered seeing Reese with in a casual way, joking and talking.
George stepped right up to Tessa and took her hand. “I’m so sorry, Tessa,” he said. “Reese spoke of you often and I know you meant a lot to him.”
Tessa’s eyes misted over and she nodded. Daisy felt as if she should stay by her friend in case Tessa needed her, though the conversation was personal.
“How long were you friends?” Tessa asked George.
“Not too long, but we got along well from our first meeting. I bought my wife a painting for her birthday last fall.”
“Tell me something, if you can. Do you know where Reese was from?” Tessa asked George.
He looked perplexed for a moment and then he said, “Not exactly. Reese mentioned more than once that he moved to Willow Creek for a slower lifestyle. So I guess I assumed he was from a big city. He traveled to New York often to visit galleries. It’s possible he was from there.”
“I’m asking,” Tessa said, “because I didn’t know if there were relatives I should contact. A friend’s son visited him over the holidays but I don’t know anything about him or how to get in touch with him.”
George shook his head. “Reese never mentioned him. Actually I haven’t seen Reese much lately. My wife and I were visiting her sister in Scranton over the holidays. I was going to call Reese to see if he wanted to meet here, or to go get a beer,” he said with a quirk of his brow.
Tessa smiled. “He did like his lager.”
“Yes, he did.” George patted Tessa’s arm. “Again, I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know. My wife, Tanya, will be in touch soon to invite you to dinner. Would you like that?”
Tessa nodded. “It would be good to talk to someone else who knew Reese. He had many customers who said hi when we were walking down the street, but I got the feeling he didn’t have that many friends.”
“I’m just glad I was one of them,” George said. “I think I’ll buy one of those apple bran loaves to take with me. Tanya would like that. Now don’t forget, if you need anything call us.”
Tessa nodded.
Daisy had altogether lost track of the time. Foster had come in for his shift and he was motioning her to the spillover tea room. When she crossed to him, he said, “You have an appointment to meet that reporter, Trevor Lundquist.”
“Oh, my gosh. How did I forget?”
“A murder seems to trump everything else,” Foster said grimly. “I brewed him tea and gave him a scone. He’s waiting for you.”
Daisy gave Foster a smile. “Thank you. You’re making yourself irreplaceable around here, do you know that?”
“I’m trying,” Foster joked.
As Daisy spotted Trevor, she hurried to his table. Foster had set a cup of tea there for her, too. Yes, Violet was dating a good guy.
Trevor looked a
s dapper as usual. His brown hair was stylishly long. He’d hung his down jacket across the back of his chair. He was wearing a cream-colored oxford button-down shirt and khaki cargo pants. He stood until she sat down and then he sat too, motioning to the half of the cinnamon scone still on his plate. “They’re good.”
“I’m glad you like them. Thank you for doing the story on the Quilt Lovers Weekend. We need all the publicity we can get. It will be good for the whole town.”
“I know shopkeepers are counting on it to bring tourists in. I just hope they’re right.”
“If we get the word out, it will happen.” She wanted to be as positive about this as she could be.
“So tell me about everyone who’s involved in this,” he suggested, “and how businesses will be participating.”
She took a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and opened it. “I wrote them all down so I didn’t forget anyone.” She related who was on the committee, then handed over the list she’d made so he could see all the businesses that were participating.
“And just what can the weekend offer tourists?” he asked.
“There will be so much to do.”
“In spite of Revelations being closed. Wasn’t the gallery supposed to have a quilt exhibit?”
“Yes, it was. But from what I understand, those quilts will now be displayed at Quilts and Notions. Rachel and some of the women there will be giving quilting instructions, and anyone who has a problem with their quilt can bring it in for a consultation.”
“That sounds nice. What else?”
“The book store ordered books on every aspect of quilting. Most of those are paperback and they’ll be available too. The Art Society is having a hands-on event where anyone can draw their own quilt patterns. The Covered Bridge Bed-and-Breakfast will be displaying many quilts in the bedrooms. Two of the quilts will be raffle prizes. Tourists can buy raffle tickets at any participating shop. I’ll announce the winners at afternoon tea on Saturday. I’m almost fully booked. The history of quilting will be presented at Willow Creek High School in the cafeteria. Students from each grade had a period to concentrate on their project. So that should be interesting too.”
“You’re making it quite clear to enjoy this weekend I have to be involved in quilting or quilts.”
“Maybe. It’s a popular pastime. But there might be couples who just want to get away for the weekend and enjoy something different. And shoppers are always looking for bargains. Coupons will do that. We have enough specialty shops here to make just strolling down the street fun. From what I hear, the children’s clothing store, Pinafores, will have a toy section with quilted toys as well as pillows and wall hangings for children’s rooms.”
“Besides notifying me, have you sent out press releases?”
“I have. I sent to the York, Harrisburg, Hanover, and Gettysburg papers.”
“I know someone who works on the Philadelphia Inquirer digital edition, as well as the Pittsburgh City Paper. I’ll contact them to see if they can get your press release to the top of the pile. Can you e-mail it to me?”
“Of course I can. That’s exactly the kind of PR I was hoping for.”
“Then I guess we’re finished,” Trevor concluded with a smile that told her he wasn’t quite done. His gaze went to the main tea room where Tessa was at the counter talking with Iris.
“Don’t even think about interviewing her,” Daisy warned Trevor.
“Are you going to get involved in solving this murder? You did pretty well with the last one.”
“I have no plans to stick my nose into this one,” she assured him.
“I’ll let everything play out a little, but in a week or so I might be back asking questions of you and Tessa. Let’s face it. If I get you additional publicity for the Quilt Lovers Weekend, an exclusive now, or even when the murder investigation is completed, is the least the two of you can do.”
Daisy had made a similar bargain with Trevor before. She felt as if she were making a deal with the devil. But it had worked out for both of them the last time. “In a day or two, I’ll talk to Tessa about it,” she said. “But I don’t want you badgering her.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “No badgering.” Then he lowered his voice. “Just probative questions.”
Daisy shook her head. She wasn’t going to let Trevor anywhere near Tessa, not until the murderer was found and the case closed.
As Daisy followed Trevor into the tea room, Iris beckoned her into her office.
“What’s up?” Daisy asked.
“I’m going to give Tessa a hand and start the chocolate scone batter for tomorrow. Do you want chocolate chips in it?”
“That sounds good.”
“You’re going to have to call the tea supplier. We’re low on the green tea blends.”
Daisy picked up the electronic tablet from her desk and made a note for herself. “Okay. Anything special you want to add to that order?”
Iris thought about it. “How about pomegranate black tea? The white teas are holding because their price is higher. Everyone wants a bargain, and our daily special doesn’t include the white tea.”
“No, it doesn’t. Maybe we should have one day a week when the special does include white tea. That way customers will drink it, enjoy it, and order it the next time they come in.”
Iris knocked her forefinger against her temple. “Now why didn’t I think of that?”
“Because two heads are better than one.”
This collaboration was just one of the reasons that Daisy enjoyed working with her aunt. For probably the millionth time, she wondered why she couldn’t have this easy relationship with her mother. But her mother’s personality was very different from Iris’s.
“One more thing,” Iris said, “then I’ll let you get back to whatever you were going to do. I’m glad you and Foster deal with that computer. It’s beyond me.”
“You just have to understand how it thinks,” Daisy kidded.
“That’s something I never want to learn,” Iris said. “I just wanted to remind you that Thursday is your birthday.”
Daisy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I have to be reminded. Another year older and all that.”
Iris laughed. “You still look twenty-five and you know it.”
Daisy didn’t bother commenting.
“Anyway,” her aunt went on. “How about you and Jazzi come over for dinner on Thursday? I’d like to celebrate with you.”
“I don’t know how much we’ll be celebrating,” Daisy joked. “But I’d like that. I’ll ask Jazzi and see if she’s free.”
“Your mom and dad should be back soon.”
“I don’t think they’re coming back until the weekend, but I’m sure we’ll know when Mom’s back.”
Iris gave Daisy a knowing smile. “I’m sure we will. I’ll see if anyone needs tea refills before I help Tessa. She seems to be doing okay today. I’ll let you know if there’s a problem.”
“Thanks,” Daisy told her aunt as Iris left the office.
Daisy wished she could solve Tessa’s problems for her, but she knew that was unlikely. Yes, she’d helped solve a murder in the fall, but that had been a onetime occurrence. She was sure of it.
Chapter Seven
The morning crowd on Tuesday was becoming a trickle when Tessa’s phone rang. She and Daisy exchanged a look. Every call now seemed to be more of a stressor, whether it was a reporter, a friend, or someone more ominous.
Daisy saw Tessa’s eyes go wide and she realized this was one of the ominous calls. She heard Tessa say, “I’ll be bringing Marshall Thompson with me. I have to call him and see when he’s available.”
When she spoke again, she assured whoever was on the other end of the call, “Yes, we’ll try to make it this afternoon. I’ll call you.”
Tessa closed her eyes as she ended the call and turned to Daisy. “The police want to question me again.” Her voice caught. “I’m going to phone Marshall. I just hope he’s available.”
Fortunately, she reached the receptionist in his office. He called her back ten minutes later. He would meet her at the police station at one.
For the remainder of the morning, Daisy was glad they had a steady stream of customers. Tessa needed to be busy so she didn’t think. Just what had happened? Did the police have more evidence? Had forensic reports come in? It would take longer for tox screens. She was beginning to know more than she wanted to know about murder investigations.
Marshall picked up Tessa at twelve forty-five. After the two of them left, Daisy kept busy. When she wasn’t helping out front, she made a batch of apple-raisin bread in the kitchen. It helped her pass the time. Eva gave her empathetic glances as she stacked clean dishes.
Two hours later, Marshall and Tessa returned, both of them looking grim.
Iris said, “Karina and I can take care of the front. Tessa, why don’t you go into Daisy’s office?”
Daisy motioned Marshall there and asked if they’d like tea. Tessa looked absolutely pale and shaky. Marshall just appeared worried.
“That would be good,” Marshall agreed. “We both need to slow our heart rates.”
“I have an orange-cinnamon green tea that you might like,” Daisy offered.
Tessa was staring into space, and Daisy knew she didn’t even hear her. But Marshall nodded.
Ten minutes later Daisy had prepared a tray with a teapot, teacups, and a dish of warm apple-raisin bread. When Tessa took the teacup in her hand, it shook.
She set it on the desk and looked up at Daisy with wide, scared eyes. “Apparently, the police found cinnamon scone crumbs on Reese’s shirt. They asked if I knew anything about that.”
Marshall cut in. “Tessa had told me Detective Rappaport already knew about the cinnamon scones she took to Reese on the night of the break-in. So I let her explain that she’d also sent some with his assistant on Thursday.”
Tessa clasped her hands together. “Rappaport was sarcastic about Reese’s sweet tooth . . . wondered how a man could eat that many scones. I could have punched him,” she blurted out, with some of the fear gone, replaced by anger.
Murder with Cinnamon Scones Page 8
