Murder with Orange Pekoe Tea

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Murder with Orange Pekoe Tea Page 5

by Karen Rose Smith


  “Anything else we should know?” Jonas asked Trevor.

  Trevor raked his fingers through his hair, seeming lost in the information he’d gathered. “Not particularly. Right now the police are canvassing the area for witnesses. You never know who might have been around when the mur . . .” Trevor cut off his word and inserted instead, “When the death happened.”

  Trevor had almost said murder.

  “The rumors are going to fly around town quicker than a telephone wire can take them,” Jonas said.

  “I bet cell towers are pinging already,” Trevor added.

  “Are the police spreading the news about the stun gun into the public domain?” Jonas wanted to know.

  “No, but I found out.” Trevor shrugged. “Leaks are called leaks for a reason. But my guess is they might keep the autopsy results under wraps. I think they’re going to try to rush that.”

  “If a stun gun was used,” Daisy surmised, “they’ll certainly be pulling in suspects.”

  Jonas’s expression was pensive. “Maybe not suspects. But I expect they’ll be bringing people in who knew Hiram, especially anyone he’s spoken to in the last few days.”

  Tessa nudged Daisy’s arm. “If you do talk to the police, make sure you tell them about Troy being at the tea garden with Hiram. That’s one connection they should know about.”

  “Especially since Troy was one of his clients,” Daisy concluded.

  “That’s pretty much public knowledge,” Trevor said. “But do tell the police, Daisy. Did Hershberger and Richter look like they were arguing?”

  After Daisy thought about the scene that day, she answered quickly. “No. Hiram seemed to be himself. Troy Richter looked very serious. But then he’s the one who might have a class action suit filed against his company.”

  “The detectives will want to collect any information they can,” Jonas said. “Did your contact say if the office looked as if it had been ransacked . . . as if someone was searching for something?”

  “My person didn’t say that, and I didn’t ask. How could I have missed that? I’ll try to find out, but I would think if file cabinets had been opened or anything looked disturbed, she might have told me that.”

  “She?” Jonas asked.

  “I was just using a universal pronoun,” Trevor retorted.

  “I won’t ask any more questions about that because I know you’re serious about keeping your sources intact. But, Trevor, it isn’t good if there is a leak. You’re not going to print any of this, are you?”

  “Of course not, not until I get an okay from one of the detectives. But I’ll tell you, with the crime that’s gone on here in the past few years, I might think about doing a crime blog or even a podcast. You know the kind. It keeps the public up-to-date with how the crime is being solved. I might even look up cold cases and go after those. That’s quite popular now from what I hear.”

  “Do you want to be a crime reporter or a detective?” Tessa asked with a bit of humor.

  Trevor leaned his shoulder against her. “Sometimes investigations lead to solving crimes. Maybe I could help with it like Daisy does. But I see my blog expanding into an area bigger than Willow Creek. It’s something else I’ll have to think about. I have to make a living, Tessa, if I want a life . . . if I want a stable job so I can settle down some day.”

  Daisy watched Tessa’s eyes grow a little shiny. Had these two talked about having a life together? Stability would mean a lot to Tessa because of her background. Did Trevor know that?

  She and Tessa would have to have a heart to heart sometime soon.

  Trevor leaned back into the sofa cushion. “In the upcoming few days, I’m going to be watching the detectives, where they go, and who goes into the police station.”

  “And at night, I’ll be typing up all your notes,” Tessa said but not with any rancor.

  “I use a digital recorder most of the time when I’m talking to people,” he told Jonas and Daisy. “But in the evening, I have to put it all together somehow.”

  “He’s a perfectionist,” Tessa said. “He won’t turn in an article until every word is exactly the way he wants it . . . until every word says exactly what it should.”

  Apparently Tessa had seen Trevor working. Apparently she’d been around when he pulled his thoughts together and wrote up his articles. That was news to Daisy, even though it shouldn’t have been. Trevor’s work was a big part of his life. But it obviously didn’t bring in the income that he’d like. Trevor was smart. He’d figure it out, and Tessa would give him the chance to do that if she was serious about him.

  “I think we all need another round of chocolate cake,” Daisy decided.

  “And black tea,” Trevor said. “I need the caffeine if I’m going to be up tonight making lists of questions, as well as lists of people I want to talk to, and looking up all types of stun guns and what they do.”

  Jonas said pensively, almost to himself in rapid-fire order, “Stun guns are legal in Pennsylvania. And someone had to get close to Hiram to use a stun gun. A taser can be used from a distance. A stun gun immobilizes the victim. The thing is—there has to be a reason for that immobilization.”

  “I don’t understand,” Tessa said.

  “I’ve been thinking about this while we’ve been talking,” Jonas explained. “If someone had come to Hiram’s office to rob him, Hiram could have used a stun gun on the thief. I can see two scenarios. Either someone took the stun gun from Hiram and used it on him, say in a struggle . . . or someone came in with the intent to use the stun gun on Hiram.”

  “But why?” Daisy asked.

  Jonas stood. “Maybe the autopsy will tell us that. I think maybe we should get out that bottle of Wild Turkey bourbon Daisy has hidden in her cupboard and have it with the black tea. What do you think?”

  Tessa raised her hand. “I’m the designated driver. Go ahead, Trevor, if you want to pour some in.”

  “Maybe just a tad,” he said with a hint of a smile. “It’ll settle me down before the caffeine stirs me up.”

  “I think even I could use a little bourbon in my tea,” Daisy decided. “Chocolate cake and bourbon tea it is.”

  * * *

  Daisy loved the scents of summer. In her backyard on Sunday, she could smell the first bloom of roses. Here in Pennsylvania the first blooms were often the best. Her Double Delight was fuchsia and white. Her yellow Peace rose was a wide bloom that created full beautiful bouquets. Chrysler Imperial roses manifested a deep red-fuchsia bloom, huge with the most wonderful scent that could fill the first floor of her house if she brought enough of them in. Roses did take a little care, but not usually this first bloom. When the weather became more humid, she would go out in the mornings and spray them with a baking soda and water solution. That would help keep away black spot.

  What she liked most about summer was holding gatherings outside. On Friday she’d called Piper and asked if she and Emory wanted to come to dinner. Daisy had said she’d invite her daughter Vi and son-in-law Foster too. She thought the four would have a lot in common. They could keep the outing casual and barbecue hot dogs and hamburgers in the backyard.

  At first Piper had been hesitant, but then she’d said, “I think it would do Emory and me good to talk with another couple.”

  “Would you like me to ask your father to join us?” Daisy had suggested in case Lawrence’s presence would make the couple feel more comfortable.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d rather if it was just us,” Piper had pleaded. “Dad inserts his opinions and sometimes Emory sides with him. I’d like to just talk without all the tension.”

  “Do you mind if I invite Jonas?”

  “Of course not. He and Emory seemed to connect. What can I bring?” Piper had asked.

  “What would you like to bring? Anything goes with a picnic supper.”

  “I have a couscous salad recipe that would be good. Would you and Jonas like that?”

  “We’re open to anything. That sounds good
. And you can teach me how to make it.”

  “It’s easy. What time would you like us there?”

  “Why don’t you aim to arrive at five and we’ll eat around six.”

  “Can I ask you something?” Piper inquired.

  “Sure, you can.” Daisy wondered why Piper didn’t just wait until Sunday. But then she found out.

  “You said you and your husband adopted Jazzi because you couldn’t have more children. When you found out you couldn’t have more kids, did that affect your marriage? I’m sorry if that’s too personal to ask.”

  It didn’t take much intuition to realize that Piper’s subtext was that whatever was happening with her and Emory was affecting their marriage.

  “Ryan and I were committed to each other,” Daisy confided. “But we had rough times. He kept trying to convince me that Vi and I were enough, that we didn’t have to have any more children. Yet when we first got married, we talked about having two or more kids. I didn’t want him giving up something that he might resent in the future. He didn’t want to push me into something I didn’t want to do. I don’t think he was really on board with adoption until we worked through it and decided we could love any child as much as we loved Violet. It would be a promise like our marriage vows were. So we decided to adopt.”

  “I see,” Piper had said, but Daisy wasn’t sure she really had seen.

  “We had arguments, Piper. We had a lot of tension. But we didn’t go to bed angry and we smiled at each other in the morning, for our own sakes as much as for Vi’s.”

  “What you’re telling me is that even when things look bad, you have to stay optimistic.”

  “Yes. And work out a plan that can suit you both.”

  Now Jonas broke in on Daisy’s thoughts about her phone conversation with Piper. He exited the sliding glass doors that led to the patio from the kitchen, carrying a large tray with two platters. On one platter, hot dogs were stacked and the other held beef patties. He looked good today, but then she might be a bit biased. His black hair was blowing in the breeze. He wore a light-blue T-shirt that made his skin look even more tanned than usual. She knew he’d been working the last couple of weeks helping someone tear down a barn. The farmer had told Jonas if he helped in the project, Jonas could have any of the reclaimed wood to use on his own creations. That was exactly the type of thing Jonas liked to do. Today he was wearing black cargo shorts and natural leather sandals. To her relief, he was feeling more at home around her house, and she liked that he was.

  As he headed toward the grill, Daisy did too.

  “It’s a shame Jazzi couldn’t be here. She enjoys a picnic,” Jonas commented.

  “Jazzi told me she’d let the couples enjoy their time together. . . that she’d rather go swimming over at Stacy’s. But I really don’t think she wanted to feel like the odd girl out, or like Sammy’s babysitter. She’s working a lot this summer at the tea garden and babysitting. So I’m glad she could enjoy time with her friend today.”

  Jonas set the platters on the shelf beside the grill. “Has she seen Brielle much?”

  “Not as much now that they’re not in school. Only on days they work at the tea garden together. Brielle isn’t working as much as I thought she might. I think she’s afraid to leave her grandmother. She feels she’s there to take care of Glorie and that’s what she has to do. But I’m a little concerned about that. Brielle needs time to be a teenager as well as a caregiver. Still, I don’t feel I can butt in. I think Glorie will come to realize the same thing.”

  Jonas opened the lid on the gas grill.

  Daisy remembered she’d forgotten to carry out the vegetable kabobs.”

  However, before she took a step toward the kitchen, Foster, Vi, and Sammy burst through the door. Vi was carrying Sammy while Foster toted a play circle deck that would work well on the patio. Sammy could sit in it and play with the toys around the circle. It would keep him occupied some of the time.

  Letting Vi and Foster settle Sammy while Jonas put the meat on the grill, Daisy waited inside for Piper and Emory. While she pulled dishes from the refrigerator and set them on the counter to take outside, she thought about what the young couple was going through. She was setting rolls in a basket with a napkin liner when the doorbell rang. She hurried to the door eagerly, ready to invite the couple inside. Between the time the doorbell rang and the time she got to the door, something must have transpired between the couple.

  Piper was saying, “I don’t want to think about using hormones again and going through another cycle. Your body doesn’t get crazy with it. Mine does.”

  Emory snapped back, “But I have to live with you while you’re being crazy.”

  They both blinked at Daisy as if they hadn’t expected her to open the door so quickly.

  “Come on in,” Daisy said to break the tension. “As I told you, we’re eating outside. Vi and Foster are already here. They’re anxious to meet you.”

  “I’d be anxious too.” Emory said the comment under his breath, but still Daisy heard it. So did Piper. She gave him a glaringly dark look.

  If Daisy sliced her hand in the air between Piper and Emory, she could probably have felt the tension gumming up the atmosphere. It was that thick. “Would you two like a few minutes to talk?”

  “We’ve done enough talking,” Emory said with a sigh.

  Daisy heard a meow from the landing. Marjoram sat there, her golden eyes on Daisy as if asking what the ruckus was all about. Her sister Pepper pattered down the steps beside her and stared at the couple.

  Looking pretty in a strawberry-patterned sundress, Piper’s expression was a combination of frustrated and sad as she carried a bowl with a lid. Emory, who was wearing charcoal board shorts and a gray T-shirt had his fists balled on his hips.

  As Piper went toward the stairs, Daisy took the bowl from her hands.

  “Aren’t you two adorable?” Piper exclaimed.

  Hearing the caring in Piper’s voice, Pepper came down two more steps. When Piper offered her hand, Pepper smelled it and then rubbed against it. Piper sank down on the step while rubbing the cat’s neck.

  Petting a cat was a good calming mechanism, Daisy knew.

  “Emory,” Daisy said. “Would you like a beer? There are bottles in the refrigerator. We didn’t take the drinks outside yet. If you don’t mind, you can gather sodas too and take them out to the table.”

  “I don’t mind,” he said, looking a little less like he wanted to bite somebody.

  In the kitchen, Daisy motioned to the doors leading to the patio. “I’ll be out in a couple of minutes. Piper can help me bring out the food.” Since Piper seemed to enjoy petting the cats, Daisy went to the kitchen.

  A few minutes later, Piper wandered out to the kitchen. She motioned to the sink. “Is it okay if I wash my hands here?”

  “Of course. I’m glad you made friends with Pepper. She’s friendlier than Marjoram. Marjoram takes a little while to get to know somebody before she allows petting.”

  “Pepper even laid on the step and let me rub her belly. Most cats won’t let you do that, not without a few kicks and scratches.”

  Daisy tossed the salad she’d assembled. “You’re familiar with cats?”

  “I had them growing up.” Piper turned on the spigot and used the foamy soap on the counter. “Mom and Dad still have two.”

  After she dried her hands on the towel, she said, “I’m sorry about that scene at the door. Emory and I seem to argue about everything now.”

  “It’s a tense time for the two of you.”

  “It is, but I feel like Emory is making it worse,” Piper insisted. “He’s pushing to take some kind of action, and I just want to absorb what’s happened and think about what I want to do next.”

  Adding a serving spoon to the salad bowl, Daisy asked, “What’s he pushing for?”

  “First of all, I’ve looked into adoption. That’s as expensive as a round of in vitro. I don’t want to go deeper in debt. And even if the Hope Clinic is willi
ng to give us a round of in vitro without cost, I don’t know if I want to go through that again.”

  “Is it a possibility that they’ll do that?”

  “That all depends if they want to settle.” Piper fidgeted with the belt on her sundress. She looked as if she wanted to say more.

  Taking a guess, Daisy suggested, “You don’t think Emory understands how difficult it is for you.”

  Piper sank down onto one of the island chairs. “I know he doesn’t. No man can understand what hormones do to a woman, the lack of them or too many of them. But on top of that, Emory’s talking about finding out the identity of the person who caused the refrigeration malfunction. He wants to sue them separately from the class action suit.”

  “Does he really?” Daisy asked gently. “Or is he just trying to find an outlet for his frustration and anger?”

  “That’s probably the case,” Piper agreed. “Other than telling him to go to a batting cage to take out his frustrations, I don’t know what to do with him.” She stopped suddenly and looked outside to where Emory was talking with Jonas. She also saw Sammy in his play deck sitting on the patio. Violet was stooping over him showing him something there. Foster was making funny faces at him and the little boy giggled.

  Piper said, “And Emory probably doesn’t know what to do with me. We’re a pair, aren’t we?”

  “You’re going through a tough time. Maybe having tonight simply to talk and joke and smile will help. I’m sure Vi will understand whatever you’re feeling. And Foster can talk to Emory. We’ll have a good night.”

  Piper seemed to make up her mind. Her shoulders were straighter and her chin was higher when she suggested, “Let’s carry this food outside and have a picnic.”

  Daisy picked up a couple of the dishes and followed Piper out the sliding screened door.

  * * *

  Later that night after all the company had left except Jonas, Daisy sat on the sofa beside him. Jazzi had come home and after chatting a bit, she’d gone upstairs to her room with the cats.

  Jonas asked Daisy, “Do you think Piper and Emory’s marriage is going to survive this?”

 

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