Death by Tea, page 17
“Don’t come back!” came Judith’s shout as I jumped into my car. I looked up, half afraid I’d see her charging across the parking lot, needles in hand. Instead, she stood just outside the door, hands planted on her hips, a crowd of eager onlookers behind her.
I started the engine, slammed the car into gear, and tore out of there, unsure whether I was simply terrified by the ogre of a woman or mortified by what Dan had implied in front of everyone.
I had a feeling that by tomorrow it wouldn’t matter either way. Both would be all over town soon enough.
19
Chocolate and sugar were calling to me after such a traumatic experience. Sure, Dan wasn’t all that bad to look at, but add in the creepy assumption that I wanted to take him to bed with me when we’d just met a few days ago and you suddenly have one of those crazy stalkers who show up outside your window and stare at you while you sleep. I’ve had enough of those for one lifetime, thank you very much.
I drove straight downtown, a hankering for something that would make my teeth fall out pushing me onward. I didn’t care what it might do to my hips, or my mouth, or, well, anything at all for that matter. If I could find a chocolate fountain to stick my head into, I’d do it.
Unfortunately, there were no chocolate fountains in Pine Hills as far as I was aware, so I headed for the next best thing: Phantastic Candies.
Even from the outside, you knew what you were getting into. The front door is decorated like the door to a gingerbread house, icing and all. The frosted windows and bright pink lettering above the door all but screamed candy shop.
I parked out front, thankful I wouldn’t have to walk far for my fix. I was seriously jonesing for a chocolate-covered caramel. If someone were to get in my way before I reached my goal, I’d probably end up hurting them.
The door opened to the sound of a large piece of candy being unwrapped. Jules Phan stood behind the counter, wearing a loud yellow suit with red stripes running down it. He wore a matching hat and tie, and I bet his shoes and socks were the same. He looked like a giant piece of colorful taffy. Even his fingernails were painted yellow and red. My mouth watered just looking at him.
“Krissy!” he said as I entered. “I’m so glad you stopped by.”
I barely paid him any mind. Chutes full of candy lined the walls. Bins of every sort of sweet you could imagine took up much of the available space. There were suckers as big as my head and jawbreakers that looked as if they could quite literally break your jaw if you tried to shove one of the massive things into your mouth. It was a candy lover’s dream.
I went straight for the wrapped caramels. I snatched one up, unwrapped it right then and there, and shoved it into my mouth before finally turning to Jules, who was giving me a worried look. I walked over to the counter and leaned against it, chewing contentedly.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Mut mrery.” I chewed faster and swallowed. “Not really,” I amended. Chocolate and caramel were stuck to my teeth. I sucked at it, knowing it would be hours before it all came away. I was okay with that.
“Care to talk about it?” Jules snatched a lollipop from the bin next to him and handed it to me before picking up a rag. He started wiping down the counter.
I plopped the lollipop into my mouth and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to dump on you.”
“It’s perfectly fine.” He gave me a winning smile, displaying his ultrawhite teeth. It’s so unfair that a guy who works in a candy store has such good dental hygiene.
“If it would help to get something off your chest,” Jules continued, “I’m your man.”
“I guess it’s just the whole David Smith thing,” I said with a dramatic sigh. “I mean, Officer Buttface still thinks I’m involved in this somehow.”
Jules raised his eyebrows at me.
“Officer John Buchannan.” I practically spit his name. “He’s following me. He ransacked my home. He even arrested me when I’d done nothing more than tap him on the shoulder a few times.”
“I saw,” Jules said, not bothering to call me on the white lie. I’d done a lot more than tap him.
“I just don’t know what to do,” I said. “I can’t seem to find a better suspect to throw to the wolves. No matter how hard I try to fit someone into the role of the killer, there is always something that excludes them. I mean, how did they get into a locked store at night without actually breaking in?”
“A missing or copied key?” Jules asked.
“I suppose.” I frowned. Dad had asked the same thing. As much as I didn’t want to believe someone from the store could have killed him, it was looking like I might have to at least consider it a possibility. “I haven’t lost mine. And if Vicki or Lena or Mike would have lost theirs, they would have said something.” Unless, of course, one of them was the killer.
“Could the killer have picked the lock?”
I shrugged. “I always thought there would be signs of tampering if they did. I guess it is possible, but why go to all the trouble? I’m not worth framing, that’s for sure. And if it has something to do with the book club competition, it didn’t do anything but bring back one of the older members. They’re determined to have the thing, despite the murder.”
Jules was frowning. “Could it have been this old member? Maybe he killed David in order to reclaim his spot.”
“Maybe.” I really wanted Dan to be guilty after the way he treated me. “But why do it in Death by Coffee? As far as I know, he hadn’t been there before yesterday. If he followed David there, that brings us right back to the question of how they got in, and why.”
Jules finished wiping down the counter. The rag vanished as if it had never been there. I narrowed my eyes at him, which only caused him to smile.
“Magic!” he said, wiggling his fingers.
I didn’t have a smile in me. I lowered my face into my hands, nearly shoving the lollipop into the back of my throat in the process. I removed it and tried again, wondering how I was going to get through this without going insane.
“Is this horrible murder business the only thing that is bothering you?” Jules asked. He patted my shoulder a few times before leaving his hand there, gently massaging. I was so tense, it actually hurt a bit, but despite the pain it still felt oh-so good.
“No,” I admitted after a groan of contentment. “We’re having a little money trouble at Death by Coffee.”
“Really?” Jules sounded genuinely surprised. “I thought business had picked up recently.”
“It has,” I said. “But we also have two new employees to pay and just added a Wi-Fi hot spot. Vicki doesn’t want to talk about it, but I think we’ll have to either raise prices or let one of our new hires go until we figure out where we are bleeding from.”
“I’ve seen the place packed,” Jules said, removing his hand. I think I whimpered just a little. “Unless you are paying those two younguns like kings, you shouldn’t be having any problems. Your prices are fine.”
I spread my hands. “I don’t know what else we can do.” If I took care of the money myself, maybe I’d spot something, but I doubted it. I was more likely to end up causing us more problems. Once I started looking at numbers like that, it all turned into a jumble. Give me a puzzle, I’m fine. But ask me to balance a checkbook . . . forget about it.
“It’ll all work out,” Jules assured me. “You just have to keep believing.”
I plopped my lollipop back into my mouth and bit down. It shattered with a satisfying crunch. “I suppose.” I extracted the remaining stick. Jules took it from me and tossed it into a trash can behind the counter.
While my troubles hadn’t been solved by candy and a friendly ear, I did feel better. Maybe Jules was right; if I kept believing that things would eventually work out, the positive energy should help guide me in the right direction. Things didn’t always have to be so doom and gloom.
My eyes strayed to the street just as a car shot down the road, going far faster than it should. Instant recognition buzzed through me. I knew who was driving the car, knew where they were going. In fact, I’d been in that car, scared out of my mind only a few months ago.
“Thanks for listening,” I told Jules as I headed for the door.
“Anytime.”
I pushed out onto the sidewalk and rushed over to my car. There was no way I was going to catch up to the other driver—he was going way too fast for that—but since I thought I knew where he was going, I didn’t have to. I just needed to reach him before he got inside.
Thankfully, there was little traffic and I was able to push it a few miles per hour above the speed limit. I normally wouldn’t have done it, knowing Buchannan was more than likely lurking around somewhere, but I really wanted to have a little chat with the driver before he got where he was going. This was going to be between us, and I didn’t want anyone else to hear.
The car was sitting in front of Lawyer’s Insurance, which was right across the street from Death by Coffee. For a moment, I was afraid I was too late. I pulled up behind the car, thinking I might have to wait until he came out again, but almost as soon as I shut off the engine the door opened and Mason Lawyer stepped out, looking mighty fine in a pair of dark blue slacks and a white polo. He looked both ways and was about to cross the street when I leapt out of my own car and called for him to wait.
He glanced my way, then started to frown, but it morphed into a resigned smile. He walked over to me.
“Sorry to bother you, Mason,” I said, meaning it. I felt bad about what I was going to do, but I thought it needed to be said. “I want to talk to you alone for a few minutes, if that is okay.”
The frown found his face this time. “This better not have to do with the murder,” he said. “Like the last time, I had nothing to do with it.”
“I never thought you did.” I reddened slightly, thinking back to how I’d accused him of sleeping with his dead brother’s wife. Boy, was I wrong on that one.
“Okay, then,” he said. “What do you want to talk to me about?”
“It’s about Vicki.”
His face went carefully blank. “What about her?”
I took a deep breath. I’d just talked to Jules about the mess my life had become, and here I was, about to stick my nose where it didn’t belong. It was as if I had some sort of sickness that caused me to do things I shouldn’t. Eventually, someone was going to pop me a good one right in the eye for all my nosiness.
Still, I didn’t let it stop me. “What are your plans for her?”
“Plans?” He looked genuinely confused.
“You know. Plans. If you’re only talking to her because you are trying to get back at me for what I did to you before, I’m going to have to stop you right there. She’s my best friend, and I won’t see her hurt.”
His frown slowly turned into a smile as I talked, making me feel stupid. When I finished, Mason rested a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. He looked directly into my eyes as he spoke.
“I’m not going to hurt her.” There was a slight pause. “Not on purpose, anyway.”
“Okay, so why are you here?”
He chuckled and lowered his hand. “I’m here because I like Vicki. We have a lot in common, and she’s interesting and quite lovely. I came here now, at this very moment, because it is my break and I wanted to ask her if she got the part in the play. She should know by now. They don’t have long to think about it.”
“Oh,” I said. I looked down at my feet. “So you aren’t using her?”
“I’d never do such a thing.”
And, of course, I believed him. I never should have questioned him to begin with. We might have started off on the wrong foot all those months ago, but since then he’d been nothing but nice to me. I really needed to reevaluate how I viewed others. Distrust wasn’t healthy.
“Let’s head in together,” he said. “I think Vicki would like that.”
I nodded and followed Mason across the street. Death by Coffee was busy. Lena and Mike were both behind the counter. Mike took the orders while Lena filled them. They barely glanced up as Mason and I crossed the floor and headed for the stairs that led to the bookstore portion of the shop. I let Mason take the lead, which probably saved me from getting trampled, because the moment Vicki saw Mason, she rushed forward and threw her arms around his neck.
“I got the part!” She all but screamed it.
Then there was the kissing.
It was the icky, “it’s not happening to me” sort of kissing that made me want to crawl into a hole and never come out until there was at least six feet of snow on the ground that could hide me. I took a step back, thinking I’d extract myself from the PDA before it spilled over onto my shoes, when Vicki came up for a breath and saw me.
“Krissy!” she squealed, relinquishing her hold on Mason. She threw her arms around me and squeezed. “I got the part!”
“I heard.” I hugged her back, feeling a little better now that I was a part of the festivities. I wasn’t as much of a third wheel after all.
Vicki let me go and stepped back. She was positively beaming. It reminded me of how natural she was when it came to acting, how much she liked it—as long as she wasn’t being forced to stand in front of a camera while some director screamed at her. She liked it simple. I don’t think you can get any simpler than a play in Pine Hills.
“Congratulations,” I said, a split second after Mason said the same.
“You both are coming, right?” She barely waited for the nods before going on. “I can’t wait for you to see my outfit!”
While Vicki was sharing the details, I realized, she was focusing on him more than me. I felt like an intruder again and gave them both a “I have to run” before quickly making my way out of Death by Coffee. I didn’t want the storm clouds that had been hovering over my head the last few days to disrupt the celebration.
I crossed the street, got into my car, and then drove home, thinking warm thoughts about a tub of Rocky Road and an orange, fluffy furball. This was my day off. I was determined to enjoy it, even if it was the last thing I did.
20
A groan escaped my lips as I lay on the couch, empty tub of ice cream on the floor next to me. Misfit lay a few feet away, whiskers heavy and white from his own vanilla ice cream. My stomach felt as if I’d opened a bag of sugar and poured it straight down my throat. Apparently, candy plus an entire tub of Rocky Road for lunch isn’t such a good combination.
The TV was on, turned to the Home Shopping Network. I wasn’t actually watching it, mostly because I wouldn’t be able to afford anything they were selling, but the voices were comforting. And let me tell you, I needed the comfort.
Misfit’s paw twitched. My left foot jumped in sympathy. My stomach did yet another flip. In a way, it felt like my insides were trying to make cotton candy, slowly spinning all of the sugar I’d consumed around and around until it came out as a cheerful pink fluff.
A gurgle worked its way up my throat. No more spinning, even in thoughts, or I was going to end up having to throw out the couch.
I forced myself to sit up. Lying around in a sugar-induced coma wasn’t going to get me anywhere. There were countless things I could be doing on my day off, not the least of which was laundry and cleaning. I might have gotten most of Misfit’s mess cleaned up from the other day, but there were still spots I’d missed. It wasn’t exactly the most enjoyable of chores, but it gave me something to do that would force me to stop worrying about my upset tummy.
And don’t forget about the murder. How could I? It was all I thought about these days, and I so needed a vacation from it.
I made it to my feet, took two steps forward, followed by two quick steps back, and I sat right back down. The mess wasn’t going anywhere. I could clean it up later. My head was spinning, and every motion made the cold knot in my stomach churn. Sitting was probably a better option right now.
Of course, the universe is cruel and a knock sounded at the door.
“Could you get that for me?” I asked Misfit, who gave me a one-eyed blink before rolling over, putting his back to me. “Jerk,” I grumbled, working my way to my feet.
I felt pregnant as I waddled across the room. I don’t think my stomach was actually bulging more than usual, but it was hard to tell. I couldn’t look down to check without getting dizzy. It was no wonder I could never seem to get healthy and fit. Ice-cream binges might be great while they’re happening, but the results afterward aren’t pretty.
The knock came again just as I reached the door. I leaned against the doorframe, winded from such a short walk, and breathed in through my mouth. After a few steadying breaths, I opened the door, fully expecting to see Officer Buchannan standing there, zip strips in hand, ready to arrest me for assaulting a tub of ice cream.
Instead, I found myself staring at the kid from the bed-and-breakfast, Justin, rocking from foot to foot outside my door.
“Uh, hi,” I said. My brain was currently frozen, so it was a struggle thinking through why a guy I’d met once would come to my house. As a matter of fact, how did he even know where I lived?
Fear turned the ice cream in my gut sour. “How did you find me?” I asked before he could say anything. I clutched the doorframe, doing my best not to look as if I was about to fall over. If he came at me with a knife, I was so dead. There was no way I was running from anyone in the condition I was in, let alone from a young man who had yet to put on the postcollege poundage.
“Phone book,” Justin said. He glanced past me into the house, which reminded me of Misfit. If the cat wasn’t in his own ice-cream coma, he would have already bolted for the door.
“Is there something you need?” I asked, closing the door a little in preparation for the orange blur. It might take him a few minutes to work up to speed, but I had no doubts the cat was in the process of readying himself for his grand escape.
