“Let me fill you in on a little secret. My guess is, since your mom died, he’s tried to be both mother and father. I tried to do the same thing. It’s really impossible. He probably feels like a failure at both. So cut him a little slack, Foster, okay?”
This time Foster seemed to pay attention. “I’ll remember what you said, but I still have to do what I think is right.”
Oh, to be nineteen again, and to know exactly what to do or what was right, Daisy thought.
“I have to get back to that soup,” Foster said. “It’s my responsibility and I don’t want anything to go wrong with it. The lunch crowd is already starting to come in.”
He was right. They were. Maybe when Jonas finished what he wanted to do with the closet today, she could convince him to have a cup of soup and a few cookies.
An hour later Foster, Cora Sue, and Iris were getting ready to serve afternoon tea in the spillover room. It would only be about three-quarters full, but on an afternoon in January, that was still good. Apparently, residents of Willow Creek were looking for something to do on a cold day when they couldn’t be out on the streets or enjoying gardening in their backyard. Jonas had just finished with the brackets for the shelves and Daisy’s shoulder was hurting. She was afraid she’d spill or drop something. She had her sling hanging with her jacket, but she simply didn’t want to put it on.
Before Jonas could pick up his toolbox, Daisy asked, “Would you like a cup of soup and lemon tea cakes?”
“That sounds good,” he agreed.
She motioned to a table in the tea room that was still open. “Just have a seat in there and I’ll bring it in.”
“Your shoulder’s hurting again, isn’t it?”
“How can you tell?”
“Because it’s a little lower than your other one, and remember, I had a shoulder injury too. I know what it feels like.”
She had forgotten that. “It is hurting and I thought about putting the sling back on. But I just hate to do it.”
“Because of the way it looks?”
“Not so much. I just don’t want to be treated like an invalid. I don’t want to think I still am an invalid.”
“The way you’ve been moving around here, you’re no invalid,” he noted dryly. “How about if you dish out the soup and I’ll carry it. You can bring the cookies.”
“That sounds good. I might even have one with you.”
Five minutes later they were seated at the table. She supposed the best thing to do with Jonas was just to plunge in. “I learned something yesterday after I got home.”
“You were supposed to be resting.”
“There’s more than one way to rest,” she shot back.
“I imagine there is. What form of resting did you do?”
He picked up a spoon and was enjoying his soup when she said, “I found out something about Reese Masemer nobody knows.”
“How do you know nobody knows? I imagine Detective Rappaport did a background check.”
“Maybe. But he doesn’t know where Reese was from, and we do.”
“You mean Pittsburgh?”
Jonas seemed to have a photographic memory. Besides that, he remembered everything they talked about. “Yes, Pittsburgh. And I hit pay dirt.”
“You googled him.”
“Yes, I did. And on the second or third page of references I found a headline.”
“What kind of headline?”
“A lawsuit headline. I’d like to get into the archives of the newspaper, but it requires a fee and I don’t know what I’m doing. The headline revealed that Dr. Reese Masemer had a malpractice suit filed against him. If he was a doctor, he had a whole different life than what he pretended to be here.”
“A doctor,” Jonas mused. “That could open up another whole book of information. If he was sued, then someone had a bad outcome. You didn’t get any more out of the article than that?”
“It didn’t even give me a whole article. It was just the headline and about two sentences. Apparently, it happened at a private hospital in Pittsburgh. I took notes and I have the name if you need it.”
“If I need it?” His jaw set.
“Don’t you know your way around things like this?”
Jonas frowned and pushed his empty bowl of soup away from his place. He pulled over the dish with the lemon cookies. “I could look into it, but Rappaport might have already done it.”
“If we look into it, and we gather all the information, and then we give it to him, maybe then he can do his job.”
“You know he won’t like it.”
“Whether he likes it or not, it has to be done. How hard would it be? It’s not illegal to access the Pittsburgh paper’s archives. I know medical records are off the grid now with HIPAA laws, but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t go talk to someone there, get the layout, maybe pick up gossip on what happened.”
“And how do you think this will help you find the killer?”
“You never know.”
“Are you sure you don’t just want to tell Detective Rappaport?”
“That would be the wiser way to go, wouldn’t it?” She didn’t expect an answer. “I’m frustrated and restless. Tessa’s not herself. She has our freezer filled with baked goods because baking seems to be all she wants to do right now. I understand that. I cook and bake when I’m stressed too.”
His mysterious green eyes studied her for a very long moment. “Good to know.”
“I’ll give Detective Rappaport a call.” She took her phone from her pocket, went to contacts, and tapped on his name. The phone provided his voice mail service. In as concise a manner as she could muster, she explained what she’d discovered. Then she ended the call.
“Does that make you feel better?” Jonas asked.
“If he pays attention to what I told him.”
“He will. Unless he’d already discovered Reese’s background.”
Jonas took her hand in his and laced their fingers. “Now tell me if you did rest after you went home.”
“After I finished with the laptop, I put ice on my shoulder and rested.”
“Exactly what you should do now.”
“The tea garden doesn’t close until five. I have to take inventory and help clean up.”
“Then take ten minutes to put ice on your shoulder and use your sling. The sling will force you not to do anything you shouldn’t. Just think of it as a reminder.”
“Is that what you did?”
“Not often enough, so healing took longer than it should have. Save yourself the aggravation, Daisy, and coddle your shoulder now or it will take twice as long to get better.”
“You sound like a doctor.”
“Experience talking, that’s all.” He picked up another lemon tea cake and ate it. “These are so good.”
“I’ll wrap up a few for you to take along.”
After a nod, he said, “I primed the boards for the shelves before I left. I’ll probably wait until tomorrow to paint them.”
“You’re painting the shelves? You don’t have to do that. It’s not as if they’re open to the public.”
“Whatever I make, Daisy, I want it to have my stamp on it. I want it to be a quality piece. So whether the world sees it or not doesn’t matter. I just need to know that I did my best.”
She nodded, totally in sync with that idea. “We’re perfectionists.”
“It’s a hard habit to break. I’d better be going. Do you know if Foster has decided if he knows what he wants to do tonight?”
“No, but I haven’t seen him on the phone. Maybe he’ll chicken out and go back to his dad’s.”
“Not a chance after an argument like that. I’m going to talk to him for a few minutes. Is that okay?”
Inside the tea room, it looked as if everyone had been served, their tiered tray of goodies eaten and all the tea poured. She said to Jonas, “It’s settled down in there. What are you going to talk to him about?”
Jonas gave her a look that maybe his conv
ersation with Foster wasn’t her business.
“I’m his employer,” she reminded him. “What affects him affects me. Besides I’m worried about him. And another besides, he’s dating my daughter.”
At that, Jonas gave her a small smile. “I’m going to tell him if he needs a place to stay, he can crash at my place tonight. I have a duplex. I’ll give him my number and he’s welcome to call me. Are you okay with that, Miss Nosy?”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “I’m very okay with it. I think you’re a kind man.”
Jonas’s cheeks grew a little ruddier. He just waved that comment away as he went to talk to Foster.
* * *
Late that afternoon, Tessa appeared to be shell-shocked when she returned from her appointment with Reese’s lawyer. She was pale and drawn, and even her red-and-cream flowing blouse didn’t make her look as young as she usually looked. She didn’t even say hello to anyone as she came in. She went straight past Iris as if she didn’t see her, past the counter where Cora Sue was ringing up an order, and walked straight into Daisy’s office. Once there she closed the door and sat behind the desk in Daisy’s desk chair. It was as if she needed a barrier between her and the outside world.
Checking the tea room where Foster and Karina had just served the last course of afternoon tea, Daisy caught Foster’s eye. She pointed to her office and he nodded as if he understood.
Daisy opened the door to her office and then closed it behind her. She had a feeling this was going to be a private conversation. Just what had happened at that appointment?
Tessa was shaking her head before Daisy even had the chance to ask any questions. She pulled the chair that was positioned in front of the desk around to the back and sat near Tessa. “Tell me what happened.”
Tessa’s eyes brimmed with tears. “You won’t believe what Reese did.”
“What did he do?” Daisy asked softly, trying to keep her imagination from imagining.
“The lawyer called me into his office because I was named as executor of Reese’s will. Not only that, but I received twenty-five percent of his estate!”
Daisy covered Tessa’s hand with hers. “That means he cared for you a great deal. He trusted you.”
“No, he didn’t trust me,” Tessa protested vehemently.
“How can you say that?”
“I can say that because the rest of it was bequeathed to Eric Masemer. Eric, the boy who was here over the holidays, isn’t the son of a friend at all. Eric is Reese’s son.”
The news was a blur to Daisy so she could only imagine how Tessa must have reacted. Tears were flowing down her friend’s cheeks.
Daisy grabbed a tissue from the holder on her desk and handed it to Tessa. “I know how this must feel. I’m sure there’s a reason he didn’t tell you.”
“Oh, there’s a reason. He didn’t trust me to keep my mouth shut. He could have introduced me to the boy over the holidays. At the least, he could have told me about him.”
“He wasn’t still married, was he?” After this last revelation, Daisy didn’t know what to expect.
“No, he wasn’t still married. He was divorced.”
“This whole situation could be a lot more complicated than we know. What if the divorce was truly rancorous? What if there was a custody battle? What if Eric wanted to go with Reese but had to stay with his mother? There are countless reasons Reese left his practice and Pittsburgh to go someplace absolutely new.”
“Do you think it’s possible Reese considered his ex-wife was a threat to him or to me?” Tessa asked.
“Anything is possible. Reese isn’t here to explain himself. He obviously cared about you a lot. So maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt.”
“Is that what you’d do?” Tessa inquired, really wanting to know.
“You have to make up your own mind about this. I don’t know how you feel. I don’t know what your gut’s telling you. There’s no evidence Reese was seeing any other woman, not even Chloie Laird. I believe he was in the process of turning his heart over to you. But he had so many secrets. Maybe he couldn’t do that just yet.”
“I want to think the best of him,” Tessa agreed. “And I do believe he loved me. The way we were when we were together—”
That could go under the subject of too much information, Daisy thought, but she was going to let Tessa vent however she needed to. “What happens next?”
Tessa gave a small, humorless laugh. “That depends on the investigation. If I’m not cleared, that twenty-five percent won’t be mine. That’s the way the law works.”
“But you haven’t been charged with anything. And if you are the executor, then there are things you’re going to have to do.”
“The lawyer addressed that. We’re going to go ahead as if everything was normal. The first thing I’ll have to do is inventory everything in the gallery. For the most part, lots of work will go back to the artists. It wasn’t purchased outright by Reese. There’s more on consignment.”
“You’re going to need a couple of weeks off.”
“No, I’m not. I need to work here. And I can’t be immersed in that gallery day and night. I have ninety days before the first tax form has to be filed. Mr. Selinski contacted the police after Reese died to tell them Reese’s burial wishes included cremation. They contacted him a few days ago that the body was ready for release. I have to meet with the funeral director tomorrow to plan a memorial service possibly on Sunday. We can get the word out among the shopkeepers, don’t you think?”
“Sure, we can. You just need to let me know as soon as you have everything planned. Aunt Iris has her contacts and I have mine. My mom and dad can get the word out too.”
Tessa looked Daisy in the eyes. “Thank you for being my best friend.”
“Always.”
“You know, what Jonas said was true, though. I’ve inherited from Reese’s estate, so the police are going to keep me in their sights.”
“Then we’ll just have to figure out who killed Reese, won’t we?”
Chapter Fourteen
The next day, Daisy was feeling much better, as if she were pulling her weight again. It was almost one and Jonas might come in to check on her and have a cup of tea. She’d just taken a batch of cranberry bread from the oven and set it on the counter on cooling racks when her cell phone played its tuba sound. Pulling it from her pocket, she saw the call was coming in from Dutch’s Deli.
“Hi, Dutch,” she answered.
“Daisy,” he said, his voice low and hoarse. “The man in the hoodie with the buzz cut is in the deli. If you want to talk to him yourself, come on over.”
Daisy thought about calling Jonas but then decided against it. Did she have the courage to go to the deli alone? Sure, she did. It was a public place. She’d be fine. She hadn’t taken her lunch break yet so she put her hand over the phone and said to Eva, “Give the bread ten minutes, then dump it out of the pans, okay?”
Eva nodded as she emptied the dishwasher. Daisy told Dutch, “I’ll be right there.”
After she went to her office for her jacket, she told her aunt, “I’m going over to the deli and to buy a sandwich for lunch. Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m good. I’ll just have some of our soup.”
Daisy didn’t linger to talk longer but hurried out the door of the tea garden and rushed down the street. When she came to the door of Dutch’s Deli, she told herself to calm down and act natural.
Right. Act natural.
Going into the deli, she was glad to see there were two people ahead of her. She spotted the man with the hoodie at a table for two along the side of the deli at the window. When it was her turn, she ordered a turkey and Swiss sandwich on a kaiser roll. Dutch waited on her himself. He nodded toward the man.
Fortunately, most of the tables were taken. She went over to the window as if she were just wandering there, debating what she should do, when she stopped at the man’s table.
“Hi,” she said casually. “The place
is a little full today and I’d like to get away from work for a while. Do you mind if I share your table?”
His hoodie was down now. He looked surprised but not threatening.
Sitting across from him, she unwrapped her sandwich and opened her bottle of water. She wasn’t going to just sit here in silence.
Trying to start a normal conversation, she asked, “Are you a tourist?”
“Why do you want to know?”
She could play this two ways. She could act coy and see if she could inveigle information out of him, or she could just be honest with him. Acting wasn’t her strong suit.
“My name is Daisy Swanson. I own the tea garden over there across the street. My best friend works with me.”
His eyes were questioning as if he were wondering what the point of this conversation was.
“I know you had an argument with Reese Masemer and the police are looking into it. They have a video of you. My guess is they’ll soon find you on their own. My best friend is a suspect in Reese’s murder.”
The man looked totally surprised and Daisy decided he couldn’t fake that look.
Lowering his voice, he asked, “Are you sure you’re not an undercover cop?”
She could have laughed at that but she didn’t. Instead she pulled her driver’s license from her purse and showed it to him.
The man shrugged. “The cops already know my background, databases and all that. Reese Masemer was my wife’s surgeon. She died. So I sued Reese but he settled.”
“If you settled, then why were you arguing with him?”
“We settled a while back. The thing is—I didn’t settle for enough. I have two kids who lost their mom and who will need to go to college. I’ve been looking for Masemer for a long time and I finally traced him here.”
“How did you find him?”
“There was an ad in the Pittsburgh paper about the Quilt Lovers Weekend. Masemer’s name is listed as sponsoring the quilt show. My mother-in-law is into quilts and she saw it. So I came to town to make sure it was Masemer.”
“And you told him you wanted more money.”
“More money, or maybe a partnership in his gallery. Masemer said he’d think about it. I didn’t murder the man but I sure thought about it often enough. The thing is, with him dead, I don’t get any more money.”
Murder with Cinnamon Scones Page 17
