Death by Tea, page 26
“Never!”
There was the clunk of a door slamming closed, and a moment later my angel stepped through the door. Paul scanned the scene, gun in hand, looking as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at.
“He killed David Smith!” I shouted. “And he tried to kill me!” I hoped he would do something before Mike’s foot finally found my face. He was bucking wildly even now.
It all seemed to click at once. Paul’s face went hard, and since Mike was ignoring the gun in his hand, he did the next best thing: he tackled the already prone man, and zip-stripped him up faster than I could blink. I let go of Mike’s foot and rolled over onto my back, panting and in pain but alive.
And at least this time, I didn’t pass out.
30
The parking lot to the theatre was so full, I had to park down the street and walk. I got out of the car, limping, as I made my way back toward the large brick building. I was dressed as if on a date—a cute, light blue skirt and white blouse—but unfortunately no man was going to meet me, much to my disappointment.
My toe had indeed been broken in my fight with Mike, but it was worth it considering David Smith’s murderer had been caught. I’d turned over all of the information I had on David, including the conquest book. It didn’t really help the police in their case against Mike, but hey, whatever. I didn’t want it.
Of course, Paul wasn’t happy I’d been holding back on him. I couldn’t blame him, really. I did let him know that the only reason I hadn’t told him about what I’d found was because of how he’d been treating me. He looked rightfully abashed, but I do believe it was also the reason I was going to this thing alone.
I reached the front doors to the small brick theatre at the same time as Chief Patricia Dalton. She was wearing her uniform, though the top two buttons were undone and the stiff hat she always wore was missing. She looked as if she’d just come off duty.
“Hi, Chief,” I said, leaning against the side of the building to catch my breath. In the week after Mike’s arrest, I’d pretty much sat on my butt, thanks to my toe. I was quickly assuming the shape of my recliner.
“Well, hello there, Miss Detective.” She said it with a teasing grin. “How’s the foot?”
“Better.” I wiggled it in my loose-fitting sandals. I couldn’t get it into anything else.
“Good, good.” She paused. “Talk to Paul?”
“Not really.” Other than when I’d given him the information I’d found, he hadn’t spoken to me at all.
“He tell you why he came back that day?” She was grinning as if she’d been dying to tell me since the moment it happened.
I shook my head. He hadn’t brought my car back, either. I’d had to convince Vicki to pick me up and take me back for it. Let me tell you, a freshly broken toe and the gas and brake pedals aren’t compatible. It took me five times as long to get home, but darn it, I was determined not to ask for any more help.
“Your neighbor called us. Dispatch forwarded the call to me, not quite sure what to make of it. Miss Winthrow was ranting about you having rough sex with a minor. She claimed it was disturbing the entire neighborhood and someone needed to come in and break it up.”
“What?” I practically shouted it, drawing the eyes of a few stragglers who had yet to enter the theatre. “He’s over twenty. And we weren’t having sex!” The eyes of the gawkers widened as they hurried inside.
“I know.” Chief Dalton chuckled. “Good luck convincing everyone else of that. Between Eleanor and her friends, it is all over town now.” She turned and walked into the theatre, still chuckling.
Great, just my luck. I solve yet another murder and instead of being a hero, people were going to look at me as if I was some sort of child molester. Buchannan was probably already having a field day with that one.
With a grumble, I entered the theatre. The old building sagged from seemingly everywhere but looked sturdy enough. A woman in a little booth just inside the door took my five dollars and handed me a little piece of paper that would serve as my ticket into the play. I thanked her and headed inside to a nearly packed room. I caught a glimpse of Jules Phan and Lance, sitting down near the front, but there were no empty seats around them.
I scanned the crowd with a frown. There were people standing at the back, apparently unable to find seats themselves. There was no way on God’s green earth that I was going to stand through this thing. My foot would probably fall off first. But I wasn’t going to miss it, either.
I found Will sitting with his bowling buddies, Darrin and Carl. I considered going down to talk to him but decided I wasn’t quite ready for that conversation, especially with the rumors flying around. Maybe once they died down, I could look him up and explain.
I was about to give up on finding a seat when I finally found an empty pair. One was an aisle seat, and the other was two seats down the row.
And between them sat Rita Jablonski.
I groaned. Of course those would be the only spots available.
I limped my way to the aisle seat and sat down, hoping she would somehow overlook me.
“Oh, Lordy Lou!” Rita exclaimed as I took my seat. “You look a pitiful sight.”
“Thanks.” I stretched my leg out as far as I could, which wasn’t much. The rows were too close together, and there was enough traffic up and down the aisle, I couldn’t use it for space. Still, it was better than standing.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been in lately,” Rita said, talking a mile a minute. “Not that you’ve worked much, I’m sure. I’ve been so busy as of late, and what with the teapot going to Cherry Valley, I haven’t felt all that great, either.”
“They won?” I asked, mildly surprised. With losing one of their own and my later accusations, I would have thought they would have been too distracted to discuss the book properly.
“Oh, Lordy, no.” Rita flapped a hand inches from my face. “They took the silver teapot home due to the murder clause within our rules.”
I stared at her blankly. “A murder clause?”
“Of course, dear. We’ve never invoked it before, so no one thought about it. In the event of a sudden death, due to unnatural means, the team who suffered the loss wins by default.”
“You didn’t think of this before having the big talk?” Boy, it would have saved me a whole lot of stress if they would have figured this out before now. I could have focused more on what was going on around me and might have caught Mike sooner.
Rita snorted. “I did, of course. I just didn’t see it as a big-enough reason to give the teapot to a team that was clearly going to lose, so I kept my mouth shut. That Albert . . .” She made one of those “Ooooo” sounds, like she was going to smack him upside the head with a newspaper the next time she saw him.
“At least you got the teapot back from the police,” I said. It was the best I could do to console her.
“Dented, of course.” Rita huffed. “Well, I’ll never understand why the police didn’t replace the thing for us. It’s their fault it is ruined, so they should be liable.”
Mike was really the one to blame, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. There was no reason to egg her on. She’d probably go to a lawyer to see if there was some way he could be forced to pay for it.
“We’ll win next year,” Rita went on. “And you’ll help.”
“I will?”
“Sure you will! You’re part of the reason we lost this year in the first place. It’s the least you can do.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I nodded anyway. I’d just have to make sure to come down with a bad case of the flu this time next year.
“Oh, did I tell you that James is back in my bedroom? I missed having him there so much.” She sighed dreamily. “I dressed up in my best lingerie to celebrate, despite what the police did to him while he was in their custody.”
Right about then, I tuned her out. Part of it was because of what she was talking about, because, ew. And the other part was because my roving eyes had landed on the back of a sandy brown head of hair I instantly recognized as Paul’s. As I watched, he lifted his arm and placed it on the backrest of another seat, which was currently occupied by Shannon, the waitress from J&E’s Banyon Tree who had always teased him about never bringing a date.
The entire world went away for a few brief moments as I watched them. Paul leaned over and whispered something into her ear. I could hear her laugh from where I sat, despite the noise of the room.
Blessedly, the lights dimmed then and the actors—including Vicki in all of her glory—stepped out onto the stage. The play began, and for the first time I thought to look at my ticket to see what exactly I was about to watch.
And Then There Were None.
Agatha Christie.
I should have known.
With a shrug, I shoved the ticket into my pocket and then leaned back to enjoy the show.
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
Alex Erickson’s
next Bookstore Café Mystery
DEATH BY PUMPKIN SPICE
coming in October 2016!
1
The pleasing aroma of fresh baked pumpkin cookies filled the room as I removed the pan from the oven. Halloween was one of my favorite times of the year because that was when the world turned into a pumpkin lover’s bliss. I leaned in over the pan and breathed in deeply. It was a challenge not to give in to temptation and sample the cookies as I carried them to the front to place within the empty display case.
“Some have just come up!” Lena Allison said from her place at the register. She held up two fingers and gave me a relieved smile as I slid two cookies into a bag.
Death by Coffee had been buzzing since we’d started selling pumpkin items. The cookies were gone almost as fast as I could bake them and the various coffees were constantly in need of refills. It was running me ragged, but it was worth it.
As Lena rang up another order, I finished filling the display case and carried the cooling cookie sheet to the back. I deposited it in the sink where it would need to be washed before I could use it again, and then headed back out front to make a coffee of my own. I filled the cup three quarters of the way full, added some pumpkin spice flavoring, and then plopped in one of the recently baked cookies.
“Ugh.” Lena turned up her nose as she leaned against the counter. The line was gone for the moment, giving her a few seconds to breathe. “I still don’t see how you could drink that. I hate pumpkin.”
I took a sip and grinned at her over the rim of my cup. “Yum.”
She laughed and shook her head, causing her purple hair to bounce around her ears. Her chin was clear of scrapes, though her elbow had a pretty nasty scab that she’d covered with a pair of Band-Aids. Her skateboard was parked in the back room, and it looked just as beat up as she often did.
Still, I wouldn’t trade her in for anyone else. Since Lena had started working at Death by Coffee, she’s made my life a whole lot easier. She’s a smart girl, and friendly to boot. She was saving up to go to college and I privately hoped she stuck close to home when she did leave. I’d hate to lose her.
The bell above the door jangled and in came Rita Jablonski, bundled in a coat lined with fur I hoped was fake. She was a short woman, on the plump side, and was the biggest gossip in all of Pine Hills.
“It’s getting windy out there!” she said, coming straight to where I stood. “They’re saying we could see some pretty serious storms over the next few days.”
I glanced out the window, and indeed, the leaves were blowing around as if a tornado was itching to come roaring down out of the cloudy sky. The reds and yellows were beautiful, but I’ll admit, I did miss the warm sun and full green of mid-summer, though I wasn’t a fan of the sometimes oppressive heat.
“I hope it won’t be too bad,” I said. If the power went out, there’d be no more cookies or coffee. And that meant no more business.
“Well, as long as it spends itself before this weekend, I’ll be happy.” Rita glared out the window as if the rain could hear her and comply. “The church is having our annual Trunk or Treat and I for one plan on being there, rain or shine. We are participating this year, just like last, and I won’t let a little wet weather ruin it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “We?”
She looked surprised for a moment before smiling. “The book club, of course! We talked about it during our last meeting.” She paused and a look of understanding passed over her face. “That’s right, you weren’t there.” She leaned forward, pressing against the counter as she spoke. “We’re holding it at the church on Sunday evening. Cars will be parked in the lot, trunks filled with candy. The kids walk around and trick or treat like they normally would. It’s safer than going from house to house and the costumes are a little less . . .” She grimaced.
“Scary?”
“Disgusting, more like. You don’t want to imagine what some of the teenagers dress up as when left to their own devices.”
Oh, I could imagine all right. I’d lived near a college campus for a few years. Halloween was always a lesson in the perverse, especially since most college kids took any opportunity they could to drink and party. Add in costumes dreamed up over a drunken weekend, and let me tell you, it didn’t take long before I made sure not to be anywhere near the campus on Halloween.
“I do hope you get the night off,” Rita said. “We start at six.”
“I’ll check with Vicki,” I said. “But it should be okay. We aren’t open much later than six anyway.”
“You do that.”
I was surprised to realize I was actually excited about the event. It sounded fun, and Vicki was always pressuring me to get out more. It might give me a chance to meet more people in town, and maybe advertise just a little.
The door opened and I glanced up just as Will Foster walked in. He paused just inside the door, looking as uncomfortable as any man could, before his eyes landed on me. He strode across the room, right past Rita, and came to a stop in front of me.
“Krissy.” He coughed to clear his throat. “Could we talk for a moment?”
I was so flustered, I almost didn’t answer. Will was a dream to look at normally, yet today he seemed to positively glow. His dark brown eyes, his near-black hair, and skin the color of a creamer-rich coffee was enough to cause me to break out into an instant nervous sweat. His coat was one of those long black button up jobbies that all the stylish men seemed to wear on magazine covers. I couldn’t see his shoes from where I stood, but I was pretty sure they’d be polished to a shine.
“Krissy?” he asked. “You okay?”
“Huh? Oh! Yeah.” I hurriedly set my coffee down before I spilled it. “I’m just surprised to see you.” The last time I’d seen Will, he’d left thinking I was seeing another man, not knowing the man he’d seen me with had been a suspect in a murder investigation. The guy had hit on me and made a scene, but I’d never even considered going out with him. I hadn’t had time to explain what really happened before Will was gone.
He flushed a little and looked down at his hands. They looked strong and manicured. “Well, I . . .” He cleared his throat and looked around me like he was afraid looking me in the eye would cause me to start yelling at him.
As hurt as I was about him vanishing like he had, I let him off the hook. “Let’s go upstairs so we can talk privately.” I glanced at Lena. “You’ll be okay for a few minutes, right?” She nodded with a grin. I turned to Rita. “I’ll be back in a minute. Feel free to order and take a seat.”
I stayed behind the counter as I headed upstairs to where my best friend and co-owner of Death by Coffee, Vicki Patterson, was showing our newest hire, Jeff Braun, how to ring up a book sale. He was a slow learner, but I had no doubt he’d get it eventually. Vicki glanced toward where Will was walking up the stairs across the room and then raised a delicate eyebrow at me.
I shrugged and tried to hide my grin as I walked past her, around the counter, and went to where Will was waiting between a pair of bookshelves.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” I asked.
“First, let me apologize,” he said. “I was stupid. I jumped to conclusions and didn’t let you tell me your side of the story. I’m an idiot.”
“No you’re not,” I said. His apology had my insides jumping up and down for joy so much, I felt sick.
“No, I am.” He took one of my hands and clutched it in both of his. “I shouldn’t have walked away like that. And then with what happened after . . .”
“It’s nothing,” I said, willing my glands not to overreact. His hands were so warm and strong, and yet soft at the same time. It was all I could do to keep from shaking.
Will sighed and smiled. “I don’t know how you can forgive me so easily. I should have come before now, but was afraid that after I’d made such a fool of myself, you wouldn’t want to see me.”
“That’s silly,” I said. “Of course I want to see you.”
A gleam came into his eye. “I know that now.” He laughed. “But you know how things are. I felt stupid, was afraid you’d call me on it the moment you saw me, and with work being so hectic lately, I used it as an excuse not to come see you.”
“But you’re here now.”
“That, I am.”
It was as if a hole had opened in the roof and a beam of pure sunlight had washed over me. I felt warm all over, and had an intense desire to squeal in joy.
“You didn’t need to apologize,” I said, doing my best to contain my excitement. “I should have been more upfront with you about what I was doing.”
“You didn’t owe me anything,” he said. “We’d barely had a chance to speak, which was my fault entirely. If I’d given you more time, then maybe I wouldn’t have let my imagination get carried away with me. It’s a fault, I know.”
He didn’t need to tell me about it. My imagination had a tendency to get me into more trouble than I cared to admit. It was a wonder it hadn’t gotten me killed yet.
Will let go of my hand and cleared his throat again. “Now that that is out of the way, I have something I’d like to ask you.”
