Murder with Cinnamon Scones

by Karen Rose Smith

  Finally Tessa stood over the last three big boxes. “These contain items that were in Reese’s storeroom,” she said. “I had Eric pack them up and make a list for me. That way it won’t be difficult to search through them if an artist wants to pick them up or if I have to send them. If Cogley had just given me another couple of weeks, this whole thing would have been much easier.”

  Tessa ran her gloved finger over the tape on the box. “This looks as if it might have been opened then resealed. But I can’t be sure because I did that myself to a few boxes when I decided to add another piece.” She sighed. “Do you think what Jimmy Standish said at the funeral home was true, and Cogley’s trying to buy up land around here for development purposes?”

  “I’ve always known Jimmy to be truthful,” Daisy responded. “Maybe Cogley resented Reese losing him a piece of property by helping a farmer. What I wonder,” Daisy mused, “is if Reese helped others. Maybe this was more than one farm deal gone bad.”

  Tessa ripped the packing tape off the cardboard box. After she opened the flaps, she reached inside. “For the most part, these are bronzes.” As she named each one, she set them atop another box. Among the statues was a farmer at a fence, several horses in a pasture, and a little boy reading a book.

  “I like that one,” Daisy said, pointing to the little boy.

  “I’m sure the artist will accept an offer.”

  Daisy smiled. “I’m too cold to think about it now. Let’s keep going.”

  Next Tessa unwrapped brown paper that had been wound around the replica of a barn. It too was bronze with an enamel bird-of-paradise hex sign painted on the front. As soon as Tessa saw it, the barn slipped through her fingers and Daisy caught it.

  “That’s like the murder weapon,” Tessa exclaimed.

  “What do you mean, it’s like the murder weapon?” Daisy asked, realizing she hadn’t seen the murder weapon. Tessa had always referred to it as a bronze.

  “The bronze I found behind my painting looked just like this.”

  “Are you sure it’s like the murder weapon?” Daisy persisted. “Because there are replicas of barns for sale in many of the gift shops in Willow Creek—all sizes and designs.”

  Tessa hesitated for a second. “Maybe it isn’t exactly the same. I was in shock the day I found it. I wrapped it in that towel as fast as I could.”

  As Daisy examined the barn, something she couldn’t quite figure out niggled at her thoughts. Hadn’t she seen one somewhere else? Maybe in the gift shop at the Covered Bridge . . . maybe at the Tumbling Blocks Inn? In conjunction with the Quilt Lovers Weekend, she’d stopped in at many businesses. It could have even been a decoration or for sale in the flower shop.

  But if she could remember specifically where she’d seen it, would that be another clue?

  Tessa was looking at the barn in Daisy’s hands as if it could bite her. She reached into the box again and pulled out another barn smaller than the first. After reaching into the box a third time, Tessa pulled out an even smaller version. “They must have come in a set of three.”

  The sad and lost expression on Tessa’s face alerted Daisy that there might be something she could do to help. “Come on,” she said to Tessa. “Let’s finish the inventory. And I have a suggestion.”

  In spite of the cold and reddened cheeks, Tessa looked pale. “What?”

  “I think you should come home with me and stay with me and Jazzi tonight. Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable and safe with us than in your apartment above the empty tea garden?”

  “I usually like the solitude. I usually like being alone.”

  “Tessa,” Daisy said gently.

  “But tonight coming home with you seems like a good idea.”

  * * *

  Daisy had decided to keep the tea garden open until one o’clock on Sunday. There was a forecast for snow that evening. Any Amish businesses would be closed today. The Quilt Lovers Weekend was still going on for the English stores and shops. She didn’t expect a large crowd because it was the end of the promotion and because of the possible snow. When she’d asked who on her staff wanted to work on Sunday morning, her whole staff agreed. It was easy to see, though, by midmorning she’d be sending some of them home early.

  Spending the day with her grandparents, Jazzi had gone to church with them, out to brunch, and then would be helping her grandmother cook dinner tonight when Daisy would join them.

  Suddenly the door flew open and eight women chattering and laughing burst into the tea garden. “Are you still serving?” the tallest asked.

  “We are,” Daisy told her. “We’re open until one.”

  “We’re all staying at the Tumbling Blocks Inn. We were here yesterday and really loved your food. Can we have soup, scones, and tea?”

  “Coming right up,” Daisy assured the group. She and Tessa, Iris, and Eva were holding down the fort. The group of women were pleasant to serve. Daisy learned they were all from Chambersburg and had carpooled for the weekend.

  “We want to get home before the snow starts,” the tallest, whose name was Edna, said. “According to my Weather Channel app, we have two hours or more until that happens.”

  The women easily talked about their children, their jobs, and asked questions about the tea garden and Willow Creek. They sounded as if they might come back soon, and that was one thing this weekend was all about—drawing in tourists. The group didn’t even mention Reese’s murder, and Daisy was glad for that. On the other hand, that meant the news cycle wasn’t mentioning it, either. If it didn’t stay in the focus of the public eye, would Detective Rappaport push to solve it? Or would he rush to make Tessa the scapegoat?

  Daisy was returning to the kitchen for a refill of green tea when her phone played.

  Eva joked, “You can’t mistake that sound for anything else.”

  Daisy smiled when she saw a text had come in. It was from Jonas. Closing the store at one. Going home to change. Meet me at the Zook barn at one-thirty?

  Tessa had come into the kitchen. “I don’t think they want to leave. They like our tea and scones, not to mention the soup.”

  Daisy frowned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Jonas asked me to meet him at the Zook barn at one-thirty. I’d like to go home and change first. Maybe I should ask him to wait until two.”

  “Nonsense, get going. You have just enough time. The sky looks like it’s going to release the snow at any moment. I’ll close up with Iris. You’ve certainly covered for me the past couple of weeks.”

  “All right,” Daisy agreed. “Why don’t you give those women one of our coupons for a free scone? That might draw them back here sooner rather than later.”

  “Good idea,” Tessa said. “Now get going. Maybe if you and Jonas are alone for a little while, you’ll get back on a romantic footing.”

  “You think that’s what I want?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “I think I do, but that depends on Jonas, too.”

  “Text him back before he thinks you’re not coming.”

  Daisy did. Then she went to her office, shrugged into her jacket, said good-bye to Aunt Iris and her staff. The Zook barn was located about two miles down the road. She could easily arrive there by one-thirty.

  At home, Pepper and Marjoram were awake and that meant that they wanted time and attention. But she didn’t have either to give them right now if she wanted to be on time for Jonas. Both of the cats followed her to her bedroom where she changed into warm clothes—a color-blocked pullover in burgundy and navy along with navy wool slacks and fleece-lined shoe boots. She imagined the barn would be as cold inside as outside, especially if it was falling apart.

  Instead of her cat-patterned fleece jacket, she exchanged it for her yellow down jacket with its white faux-fur-trimmed hood and sleeves. A yellow and navy scarf Violet had given her for Christmas was stuffed in one pocket while her navy leather gloves were in the other. Jazzi had given her those.

  Pepper meowed at her. Marjor
am, who had disappeared for a few minutes, came running in with her favorite toy that could be filled with catnip. It was a little green turtle.

  “Okay, let’s make a deal,” Daisy told them.

  They both sat back on their haunches and looked up at her, Pepper with round golden eyes, and Marjoram with slanted golden ones. They were waiting for her to negotiate.

  “I’ll fill your turtle with catnip,” she told Marjoram. To Pepper she said, “And you can sleep on my bed, if you’d like. You know this is the brightest room when it’s a dull day outside.”

  Both felines kept their gazes on her.

  “Okay,” she said in surrender, throwing up her hands. “I’ll give you treats before I leave—three Greenies. How’s that?”

  Pepper meowed, turned, and headed toward the kitchen. Marjoram followed her, turtle in her teeth. If there was one word they understood above all, it was “treats.”

  After Daisy filled the turtle with catnip, she put an equal amount of treats in both of their dishes, ran her hand down both their backs, and threw them kisses on her way out. Feline babies could be as demanding as real ones if you understood them. She thought she did. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

  Daisy was in her purple PT Cruiser, driving down her lane, when she realized she would be a few minutes late. But just a few minutes. As she stopped at the intersection of her lane and the rural road, snow began to fall. That had started a little earlier than the app had said it would. She and Jazzi joked about it all the time. Daisy checked the app. Jazzi said she’d just go outside and see what the weather was doing.

  Right away Daisy could see that the snow was going to lay. Well, she was only driving two miles from her home, and certainly they wouldn’t be collecting the wood today. The last time she talked with Jonas about it, he said he just wanted to mark the wood that he’d like to use. That shouldn’t take too long. Maybe she’d ask him to join Jazzi and her parents for dinner. If he said “yes,” then maybe she’d be sure he wanted more than a simple friendship.

  When Daisy arrived at the barn, she didn’t see Jonas’s SUV. She parked on the gravel, already frosted with snow. She could sit outside in her car with the heater on. Then again, Jonas probably wouldn’t be too long. She could just go inside and have a look around. One of the doors was completely missing from the dilapidated barn. She had Jonas’s permission to be here, so she wasn’t trespassing.

  Once inside the barn, she took a good look around. Grayish light shone through the windows and through the separated timbers that looked as if they could fall apart. She could tell there had once been three horse stalls and a tack room.

  Looking up at the hayloft, she could see wisps of hay lying across the boards, and she thought she glimpsed a bale or two. Could a barn like this be restored? She was sure there was history in its walls.

  When she glanced to the left, she spotted a decorative star lodged against the wall. The barn and the star made her think about the barn that was wrapped up in Tessa’s storage shed—the bronze barn with the hex sign that Tessa said was like the murder weapon. A flash of something intangible Daisy couldn’t quite catch flickered in her mind.

  When she concentrated on the two barns again, she had it. She remembered where she’d seen matching barns! On the bookshelves in George Beck’s office. Hadn’t Tessa said that they must have come in sets of three?

  Only two had sat on those bookshelves—a small one and a medium-sized one. And the large one?

  Shivers rippled up her spine. What if she was wrong? But what if she was right?

  She took out her phone to call Detective Rappaport. As soon as she did, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and found George Beck pointing a gun at her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Daisy froze. Staring down the barrel of a gun emptied every thought from her head.

  “Did you remember?” George Beck asked.

  “Remember what?” For a moment, Daisy felt almost dizzy with fear. Panic squeezed her heart. Where was Jonas?

  Beck was wearing jeans and shoe boots with leather soles. His jacket was open and she could see his sweatshirt underneath. Possibly the adrenaline running through him and whatever he’d planned was keeping him warm enough.

  She was freezing.

  “You went into my den to make your phone call. You talked about the classics that you saw there. But that wasn’t all that was on that shelf.”

  Pulling her wits about her, Daisy attempted to compose herself. She had to stay sharp and focused if she was going to get out of here alive. “I saw owls there too, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Not only owls,” he insisted. “There were two bronze barns there. Apparently, you didn’t associate them with the murder weapon.”

  “Murder weapon?” She knew she couldn’t just keep parroting his questions, but it was all she could do for now.

  “I know you saw that treasure I left in Tessa’s attic. The two of you called Detective Rappaport to come get it.”

  “I didn’t see the murder weapon that day. If I had, I might have connected it to you and called Detective Rappaport. Why come after me when the police didn’t come after you?”

  “Because you would have made the connection eventually. The description of the murder weapon would have come out sometime, even if Tessa didn’t show you or tell you.”

  “Did you follow me to the bed-and-breakfast?”

  “I have trackers on your car and your van. One on Tessa’s car, too. All I have to do is check my app to know your whereabouts at any time. Sometimes I do the surveillance in person, like the day I hid the murder weapon up amongst Tessa’s paintings. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss out on all the fun.”

  “You’re crazy!” She wished she had made the connection between the murder weapon and the barn and George Beck’s shelves last night. “Why did you break into the storage shed?”

  “Because I knew Reese had another set of those barns in his inventory. He told me that when I bought my set from him. If anyone found them and connected them to the murder weapon, they could have gone through his receipts and discovered I’d bought the other set before Christmas. If the security guard at the storage center hadn’t been making his rounds and interrupted me, I would have found the other set.”

  She could see Beck had tried to cover all his bases. But she still didn’t know the answer to the most important question. “Why did you kill Reese? I thought you were friends.”

  “I couldn’t let him ruin my life.”

  That statement alerted Daisy that Beck had his secrets too.

  Daisy dared to look around the barn again and up to the hayloft. If Beck didn’t have Jonas tied up somewhere, maybe the text had been bogus. It hadn’t been from Jonas. It had been from George Beck. Had he stolen Jonas’s phone?

  But first things first. She slipped her hands into her pockets as if they were cold. She felt for her phone.

  Beck waved the gun at her. “Give me your phone, and don’t press anything. You’re the type who would want to record this conversation and you’re not going to do that. Do you think I’m stupid?”

  She was so angry that she just had to goad him. As she passed the phone to him, she said, “Anyone who commits murder can’t be very smart.”

  If he lunged at her, maybe she could get away.

  But he didn’t lunge. He stayed steady although his face did turn red. Blood pressure going up? It was too much to hope he’d have a stroke.

  “You have to butt into everything, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Not everything,” she murmured. Then raising her chin she asked, “Did you know about Reese’s past as a doctor?”

  “I did. We were baring our souls one night. His sorry story came out when he let it slip about taking painkillers and losing his profession. I should have held my tongue about what I was into. I guess I really didn’t know what kind of man Reese was at that point.”

  “What kind of man was he?”

  “He had scruples.”

 
“I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t have to understand. You’re going to be dead. You won’t care.”

  When Daisy had reached into her pocket for her phone, she’d felt her keys there. There was a panic button on them. A teapot charm hung right beside the panic button. As she felt for the charm, she realized it wouldn’t do any good to push the button if no one was around to hear it. It could be a distraction for Beck, but she had to do it at the right time. She’d only get one chance.

  “If you’re going to kill me, I want to know why. Sure I know you’re the murderer, but I don’t know what happened. Maybe I am a nosy busybody, so satisfy my curiosity before you get rid of me.”

  Beck eyed her as if she was playing some kind of game. But he must have decided there wasn’t anything she could do in her situation. “Abner Cogley was a thorn in Reese’s side. The man hated Reese because Reese was helping farmers in the area keep their farms. Cogley wanted to buy them cheap for development purposes. When a farmer hit hard times, Cogley swooped in.”

  “I heard that Reese helped out one of the farmers,” she commented as if they were having a normal conversation.

  “He’d been a doctor,” Beck said. “He’d made good money even though he had to split it with his wife because of the divorce. He helped out more than one farmer. He’d lost his profession and his family and had to start over. Because of that, he didn’t want to see it happen to others.”

  “So you had a connection to all of this?” She still wasn’t seeing the motivation for Beck murdering Reese.

  “I’m Cogley’s accountant. That night Reese told me about the painkillers, I stupidly confided in him that there was a reason Cogley was rich. He’d cheated. Reese was too smart for his own good. He guessed that I was keeping two sets of books for the man, one for the IRS and one set with the true transactions.”

  “What were those transactions?”

  “You mean other than compromised land deals? Cogley paid out bribes for rezoning. He inflated rents and only reported a portion of what he received.”