Death by Tea, page 9
Albert gave me a helpless shrug and stood. He jerked his head to the side, away from everyone else, a clear indication he wanted to talk alone. He patted Sara on the shoulder and then led me to the other side of the pool. I followed, hoping he had something important he could tell me, like perhaps he’d killed David Smith in a jealous rage.
If only it was that easy.
“I’m not jealous of that man,” he said as soon as we came to a stop. “I never was. I could see through his act. He was using her. She was just so desperate to find someone willing to put up with her attitude, she couldn’t see it.”
“I take it you weren’t fond of David.”
“I’m not sure any of us were.” He glanced back to where Orville and Vivian sat, watching us. “Except for Sara, of course.”
“If you didn’t like him, then why let him into the book club?”
Albert spread his hands. “Sara wanted it, and what she wants, she gets. That’s how it has always been.” He frowned. “What we should have done was kicked her out instead of poor old Dan.”
“Was he a member of the group before David?”
Albert nodded and started fidgeting with his shirttails. “He was never all that good at the club stuff, but at least he liked books. I’m not sure David even read. He had eyes for Sara and she for him, and that was the end of the story. Dan warned us this would happen.” He paused. “Well, not the murder itself, but that it would end in disaster.”
Interesting. A premonition, or a plan? “Dan wasn’t a big David fan either, I take it?”
“Of course not.” Albert gave a bitter chuckle. “Good old David Smith struts in from England and promptly sweeps all of the women off their feet. Dan took it as an affront, claiming David had waltzed in on his territory, as if Dan himself had girls hanging all over him.” He shook his head at the memory.
If Dan was kicked out of the book club to make room for David, then he had to have been angry. Add to that how David was popular with the ladies, and you had a pretty nasty combination.
“Have you seen Dan around here in Pine Hills lately?” If he’d been spotted, I’d have a viable suspect, and likely the killer.
“I haven’t seen him. As far as I know, he’s still back in Cherry Valley. I have half a mind to head back there now. If it wasn’t for the police asking us to stick around, I think I very well might have left already, competition be damned.” He glanced over his shoulder and sighed. “I best get back to Sara and apologize for upsetting her. She can hold something of a grudge when she wants to.”
“Okay. Thanks for talking to me. You’ve been a big help.”
Albert gave me a strained smile before he turned and walked off.
I thought I had a pretty good lead already, but I wanted to know more. I walked across the patio to where Orville and Vivian were still sitting. Before I was halfway there, Orville stood and excused himself. He hurried off as quickly as his old legs could carry him, leaving Vivian to face me alone. She must have seen the curious look on my face, because she chuckled.
“He has an overactive bladder, especially when he gets nervous. Too much tea, I tell him, but he never listens.”
“Why would he be nervous?”
“Doesn’t like talking to strangers.” She shrugged. “Can’t say I blame him.”
“Ah.” It would make talking to him next to impossible unless I trapped him in a bathroom somewhere. It did make me wonder how he could stand in front of an audience to talk about a book, though. I turned my full attention to Vivian. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions about David Smith?”
Her mouth puckered. “I really don’t wish to speak of the dead, ill or otherwise.”
“What about Dan? What can you tell me about him?”
Vivian frowned and refused to meet my eyes. “He couldn’t have hurt David, if that is what you are implying. Dan Jacobson is a fine young man.” A blush ran up her neck. I wasn’t sure how to interpret that.
“Do you have any idea who might have killed Mr. Smith?”
Vivian looked up, eyes focused at my chin. “Don’t you think you should ask Rita and her little flock that? They were jealous of David, I tell you. He could sweet-talk just about anyone out of their knickers, and they knew they were in trouble the moment they heard him speak. He could have recited the pledge and won the teapot for us.” Her voice hardened. “If you are looking for a murderer, you best look in your own backyard.” She turned pointedly toward the chessboard.
I took it as a dismissal and wandered back into the bed-and-breakfast without another word. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that Rita or one of the Pine Hills people could have killed David Smith, but then again, how well did I know all of them? Jimmy and his wife, Cindy, were complete strangers to me. And I’d only sat in on meetings with Andi and Georgina. Could Rita have finally flown off the handle and killed David over some stupid teapot? It didn’t seem likely.
I didn’t see Orville as I worked my way to the front of the old mansion. Jo was waiting for me there, smile painted on. I was about to thank her and go on my way, but I had a thought that brought me up short.
“Do you think it would be okay if I saw David Smith’s room?”
Jo gave me a quizzical look. “Now, why on earth would you want to do that?”
I scrambled to come up with an excuse that didn’t make it seem like I was being nosy, which, of course, was exactly what I was being. I needed to see if David left a clue in his room, a journal hidden where no one could find it perhaps, detailing his worry that someone was trying to kill him. Maybe he kept notes on the other members of the group and something there would point to his killer.
I knew trying to sweet-talk Jo wouldn’t work. And telling her I was just curious would only make her push me out the door.
I scooted up closer to Jo, who promptly took an alarmed step back, as if she thought I might hurt her. “I investigate murders for the police,” I said at a near whisper. “Do you remember the Brendon Lawyer case?”
Her eyes widened. Brendon’s murder had been all over the news a few months back. I’d figured out who killed him before the police did, and even had a hand in apprehending the murderer. Even if Jo didn’t watch the news, I was positive she would have heard something about it from someone.
“That was you?”
I nodded.
Her hands flew to her mouth. “Do you think you . . . ?” She didn’t need to finish the thought. She was watching me with wide-eyed wonder. I had her.
“I just want to take a look around,” I said. “There’s no need to tell anyone. Just let me in for a few minutes. I’ll poke around, see what I can see, and then will be on my way.”
Jo nodded as I spoke. “Of course. But the police have already been inside the room. They’ve taken most everything that could be important, so I’m not sure what you can learn.”
I winked. “We’ll just have to see, now, won’t we.”
She actually giggled before waving me to follow her. We went up a set of sturdy wooden stairs. They’d been varnished once, which would have scared me half to death back when it was new, but time and countless footfalls had worn away most of the shine, leaving the middle rough and faded. The upstairs hall was carpeted, muffling our footfalls as we headed to the third door on the left.
“This was his room,” she whispered, glancing around as if someone might come along and discover us. “I’ll keep everyone busy.” She scurried off before I could respond.
With a shrug, I tried the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. I stepped inside, closed the door behind me, and then turned to scan the room.
There wasn’t much to see. The bed was big enough for two people to sleep comfortably without touching. It was piled high with pillows that looked as if they’d been tossed there carelessly, more than likely by the police. Heavy curtains covered all but a sliver of the windows, leaving the room gloomy. It gave me the heebie-jeebies to be standing in a room where a dead man once slept. I flipped on the light by the door, but it barely helped.
A TV hung from the wall in the corner. A desk sat by the window. A padded wooden chair was pushed all the way in beneath the desk. There were no incriminating papers sitting atop it like I’d hoped. A wardrobe sat to my right, in the corner, next to what I assumed was a closet.
Unsure where to start, I wandered aimlessly around the room. David’s suitcase lay open on the far side of the bed. Clothes lay rumpled inside it, but little else. I used the toe of my shoe to move the shirts and underwear around, but nothing seemed hidden inside. I turned toward the dresser.
The drawers were empty. When I went to the closet, I found it much the same. A robe embroidered with the Ted and Bettfast logo hung inside. When I checked the wardrobe, it was likewise empty of clues.
I grunted in frustration. Apparently, David was living out of his suitcase rather than settling in. If I was going to stay somewhere for a week, especially in a place like this, I would have wanted to settle in more, unpack my things, and try to make it as homey as possible. I moved to the desk, not really expecting to find anything. I opened the drawers and found them empty.
Either the police had taken everything but David’s dirty clothes, or he hadn’t brought much to begin with. I turned back to his suitcase and eyed it. There didn’t seem to be enough clothing there for a weeklong stay. It didn’t mean much, since there was probably a laundry room here or the police could have taken some of his things. And if Sara and David were as cozy as they seemed, he might have left a few things in her room.
I walked over to the window by the desk and opened the curtains with the intention of looking out at the view. There was a strange, almost papery sound as the curtain swept behind the desk. I leaned over the wooden surface and peered down into the crevice, thinking I’d find a directory or a pamphlet of some kind.
Instead, I found a photograph.
I had to stretch to reach it, but I managed to snag it with my fingertips. It was one of those old Polaroid photos you never see anymore since everything has gone digital. I hadn’t seen a camera, so either he’d brought the photo with him or the police had taken the camera when they’d swept the room.
When I straightened, I was holding the photo so I was looking at the back. “Sara H.13” was scrawled across it in white. I flipped the photo over and gasped at what I saw.
Sara was lounging by the pool, dim lights illuminating her as if she was sitting on a stage in a nightclub somewhere. She was looking sultrily into the camera, one leg demurely crossed over the other. Her hair was loose and hung around her bare shoulders.
It was the only thing covering her.
I quickly dropped the photo onto the desk, where it landed facedown. If I had any questions as to whether Sara and David were an item, I knew now. I stared at the back of the photo, not wanting to touch it again, no matter how important it might be. I’d seen it; that was good enough for me.
Should I tell Paul? I frowned. I wasn’t sure how a nude photograph would lead to David’s murder, but I suppose it was possible.
And yet, did I really want to drag Sara’s name through the mud? She was already suffering enough as it was. If I were to take the photograph to the police, they’d have to ask her about it, might even make it public. Could I really do that to her?
No, I decided. If it became important later, I could tell Paul. Until then, I’d let her have her peace. As far as I was concerned, the only thing the photograph proved was that David and Sara were intimate. Unless a jealous ex came along, I doubted it would be of importance.
Using my fingernail, I pushed the photo to the back of the desk, and it fell to where I’d found it. I closed the curtain, checked to make sure everything else was where it should be, and hurried out of the room, still uncertain if what I’d found meant anything more than the obvious.
Jo stood at the bottom of the stairs, a curious expression on her face. “Find anything?”
I hurried past with a “Nope. Nothing at all. I gotta get to work.” I could still feel my embarrassment on my face.
I got into my car and started it up without another look at Ted and Bettfast. I could still see Sara in all her glory, under those dim patio lights, water droplets speckled across her bare flesh as if she’d just been splashed. How they managed to take the photo without anyone else seeing was beyond me. I wasn’t even sure they could have.
As I sped back to work, knowing I’d stayed out well past my lunch hour, I wondered if someone might have seen them, watched them as they cavorted openly, and resented it.
And then, somehow, it led to David’s murder.
11
The bell above the door jingled and Rita, flanked by the rest of the Pine Hills book club, poured in. Georgina and Andi were tittering with each other, looking around Death by Coffee as if they were in awe of the place. Jimmy and Cindy came in, one after the other, and hurried to the stairs without a word between them. Vicki greeted them all with a smile.
I’d hoped to get through the rest of the day without doing much more than working and thinking about what I’d learned so far about David and his murder. I also was doing my best not to stare at every arriving customer in the hopes Will would show. I’d said only a few words to the man, yet it appeared Lance was right and he did have his hooks in me.
Rita made a beeline my way the moment she saw me. She was wearing one of those hats that looked as if it belonged on a doll rather than a real person. It looked too small for her and was clipped to her hair by pins. The hat was a shade of teal anyone should find embarrassing, yet she didn’t seem to care one bit. I don’t think Rita ever considered that someone else might actually talk about her behind her back. With most of the town’s gossips on her side, why worry?
“Lordy Lou,” she said, waving a hand in front of her face. “It sure is a hot one today.”
I shrugged. “It’s not too bad.” I noted her heavy, flowered teal dress and decided that the heat probably had more to do with her swaddling herself in enough fabric to cover a car than with the air temperature. A bead of sweat rolled down my forehead and I wiped it away. “Though it can get pretty hot back behind the counter with all of the coffee and baking.”
Rita patted my hand. “I’m sure you’ll get through it. I don’t know how anyone could handle working like you do.”
That made me wonder what Rita did for a living. As far as I could tell, she didn’t work, wasn’t married. She must have had a job somewhere at some point, yet outside of maybe a quilt shop, I couldn’t see her working much anywhere. Rita was one of those people who would never get a bit of work done. She’d be too busy spreading gossip to actually, you know, sell something.
Of course, that was what made Rita great. If there was one thing a gossip was good for, it was to gossip. Not only don’t they mind, they relish the opportunity to talk about anything and everything and rarely hold anything back.
“Are you having the book club meeting today?” I asked, glancing toward where the other four were sitting upstairs. “Even after what happened?”
Rita waved a hand in front of her face as if shooing the thought away. “I don’t want to hear it. Cindy was all but beside herself about that man’s death and tried to back out of the meeting because of it. Can you believe she would even consider such a thing?”
“Well, a guy did die.”
“This is too important for something like that to get in the way.”
I gave her an incredulous stare, which she missed because her eyes were on the menu behind my head. I mean, I understand that David was new and all, but to outright disregard his death was cruel, even for Rita.
“I think I might have an iced coffee,” she said, fanning herself off. She was oblivious to my shock. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
I nodded absently and went back to get her coffee. If I didn’t know her so well, I might have thought Rita could have had something to do with David’s death. She seemed so unemotional about it, it was frightening. I carried the coffee back to the counter and set it down. Rita paid with exact change and then leaned up against the counter, eyes gleaming.
“The silver teapot is ours this year.” She said it with such force, I actually took a step away from her. “I won’t let Albert wiggle out of this one just because he no longer has an unfair advantage.”
I winced. We were talking about a person here. “Has Albert tried to cheat before?”
Rita snorted in a very unladylike way. “When hasn’t he? I swear, that man only cares about the bottom line. He never stops to consider about the fairness of the thing! It’s downright undignified. I wouldn’t put it past him to kill someone if he thought it would help him win.”
My eyebrows rose at that. Could Albert be so against reading Murder in Lovetown that he killed David just to get out of it? It seemed a tad excessive, if not insane. It was apparent both Rita and Albert took the book club competition seriously, but to kill over it? I just couldn’t see it.
“I think that’s why Albert’s wife left him.”
“Excuse me?” I returned my attention back to Rita, not quite sure I’d heard her right. “His wife left him?”
Rita nodded sagely. “She was part of the book club years ago but left right before she dumped him for some exotic dancer she met in Florida while on vacation with her girlfriends. If Albert had paid more attention to her, instead of his own petty concerns, then perhaps she wouldn’t have looked for someone more exciting.”
I tried to come up with a way that Albert’s wife leaving him could be relevant to the case now, but I came up blank. Maybe if David was hitting on a woman who was already taken, it might make him think of his ex and cause him to react poorly, but to kill? I seriously doubted it. I mean, I wouldn’t blame him for getting angry. Every time I thought of my ex, Robert, my blood pressure rose and I wanted to break something. I just never acted on the impulse.
“What about the others in the Cherry Valley group?” I asked. The more I knew about them, the better handle I’d have on their motives. “Are they as bad?”
