CHAPTER FOUR
With the musty scent of the old chest still in the air, Daisy tapped the speaker icon on her phone. That way all of them gathered there would hear what Amelia had to say. When Daisy heard the sound of the sliding-glass door, she knew Jonas had returned inside.
“Go over it all for us, Amelia. Tell us what happened. I have you on speakerphone.”
When Jonas came into her purview, she motioned to her phone. With an inquiring expression, he stood by the sofa, and Felix settled on the floor beside him.
“Who all is there?” Amelia asked.
“Me, and Jonas, Mark, Jazzi, and April. They were examining the chests with me.”
Daisy heard shuffling and a scraping sound. Amelia must have made herself more comfortable on a chair. She began with, “Trevor and I went over those chests with a fine-tooth comb this afternoon. He was so disappointed we didn’t find anything.”
“I’ll bet,” Jonas muttered, lowering his hand to Felix and stroking his flank.
“I think Trevor wanted to head over to your place right then,” Amelia went on. “But I told him not to barge in. He should give you a chance to do your own examination.”
“Thank you for that. Jonas and Mark just brought them in a little while ago, and . . .” She hesitated, not sure if she should tell Amelia the rest. But then she did because it sounded as if Amelia had had a break-in.
“Jonas chased away someone who was going to try to break into his SUV.”
There was a surprised “oh” from Amelia, then she offered vaguely, “We’ve definitely stumbled onto something. It looks as though you have the chest with the secret.”
“Why do you say that?” Daisy asked.
“Besides the fact that Trevor and I examined the chests, the person who broke into the shed didn’t find anything either.”
“Or maybe he did,” Daisy countered. “Tell me what happened at your place and when.”
“I’m not sure when. Trevor and Horace helped me move the chests into the shed. After we combed over them, Trevor left, probably before noon. After that, I was inside until I went out to the shed to look through the lamps and wall hangings again. That’s when I saw the padlock had been wrenched off.”
“Like, with a crowbar?” Jonas asked.
“That could have broken it, I suppose,” Amelia said. “The things in the shed were shuffled around, but I don’t believe anything was missing. The clasp on one of the chests was broken, too. I can’t remember if it was that loose when we moved the chest inside.”
Jonas entered the conversation again. “Did you call the police?”
“No, nothing was stolen. I couldn’t see the point. Did you call?”
“No, no damage was done.” Jonas was frowning. “But maybe we should call.”
“If Trevor reports all of this on his podcast, the detectives will know what happened,” Daisy reminded them.
Daisy heard Amelia click her tongue before she said, “Do you really think he’ll do that?”
“If he wants to create interest, he will,” Daisy maintained. “Keep in touch and I’ll do the same.”
After good-byes, Daisy ended the call. Mark studied Jazzi and then Daisy. “You certainly do have an interesting life.”
Mark’s grin relayed the sentiment that an interesting life was a good thing.
Daisy wasn’t so sure.
* * *
On Monday, Daisy carried rhubarb muffins and a glass of chocolate iced tea to one of her favorite customers on the patio, Fiona Wilson. As she walked past a pot of lemongrass, her leg brushed against it, and the scent followed her as she continued to Fiona’s table. Herb pots were interspersed with pots of petunias in pink, purple, and yellow along the patio’s edge. Between those containers sat whimsical statues—a bronze cat seated on a stone reading a book, glasses perched on its nose, and a dog with a ball in its mouth. Yellow-and-white-striped umbrellas provided shade over the white patio tables.
As Daisy unloaded the items on the serving tray, she said to Fiona, “Are you still eating soup in the warmer weather?” Usually Fiona bought a quart or two of soup to take home and have for the week.
“I think I’m going to load up on salads this week, and just take home one quart of soup. It’s lovely out here this time of year. I love sitting on your patio. I wish I had one.”
Around seventy, small and slender, Fiona wore her curly hair chin-length with a gold clip over her right temple. Daisy knew she lived in a first-floor apartment without a backyard.
“You can come and sit on my patio anytime you want,” Daisy offered. Daisy had been busy all morning and hadn’t taken much account of her surroundings.
At that moment, she noticed the blue sky beyond the umbrella, the fluffy clouds, and the boughs of the maples practically intertwining near the creek that flowed to the rear of the tea garden’s property. She also recognized Iris and Marshall Thompson only a table away at the edge of the patio. Herbs and flowers framed them as they were settled in chairs close to each other at the table.
A lawyer, who had come to Daisy’s aid in more than one murder investigation, Marshall was six-foot-two with thick snow-white hair. He always looked impressive. Even today, he looked professional with a blue oxford shirt and navy slacks. No tie, but that was his idea of casual. He had been dating her aunt since fall. In fact, her aunt Iris had been dating two men—Morris Rappaport, the detective whom Daisy was friends with, as well as Marshall. They were two very different men.
After a few more words to Fiona, Daisy approached Iris and Marshall’s table to say hello. However, she was only two feet away when she saw the expressions on their faces. They seemed to be having an intense conversation. She was about to turn around and walk away when she overheard Marshall telling Iris, “I’ve been patient up until now. It’s time for you to decide whether you’re going to date me or Morris full-time.”
After that ultimatum, he pushed back his chair, stood, and without even acknowledging Daisy, headed to the driveway that led to the front of the tea garden and Market Street.
Usually, her aunt wore a positive expression. She was a happy person, optimistic, trying to see the best in everyone and everything. Her ash-brown curls were natural and framed her face, hanging almost to her chin. The curls fluffed when she walked. When she wore a hairnet at the tea garden, a few slipped out. Apparently, she’d taken off her hairnet to meet Marshall. Today she was wearing a cranberry T-shirt, cream slacks, and her white sneakers. In her sixties, Iris usually didn’t look her age. But now Daisy could see the lines around her aunt’s eyes and around her mouth quite clearly.
Daisy pulled out the chair Marshall had vacated and sat facing her aunt. “Are you okay?”
Iris’s eyes looked misty, and her lower lip quivered. “I thought dating was supposed to be fun.”
Daisy patted her aunt’s hand. “I guess that depends on whom you’re dating.”
With obvious effort, Iris forced a weak smile. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. You and Jonas didn’t always have fun, did you?”
That was an understatement. “As you know, Jonas and I had a complicated road.”
“It looks like my road is complicated, too,” Iris acknowledged with some exasperation. “I didn’t want it to be.”
“Did you know Marshall was coming here today?”
With a swift glance at her phone, Iris answered, “Yes, he texted me. I told him we could have tea on the patio.” She motioned to the iced tea glasses. “But he was very cut-and-dried about what he wanted.”
Close to her aunt since she was a child, Daisy suspected Iris wanted her to keep prompting her. “And what does he want?”
Iris wrung her hands together. “He wants to date me full-time . . . or to cut off our friendship entirely, I suppose.”
As softly and gently as she could, Daisy reminded her, “You’ve known for a while you would have to make a decision.”
“Yes, you and Tessa have pointed that out more than once. I just didn’t know if I was ready.”
“Drink some tea and take a breath,” Daisy advised. After her aunt did, Daisy pointed out, “They’re both upright and caring men. They just have different outlooks on life and different personalities. Aunt Iris, you know this is all about feelings.”
Iris nodded. “It is. Maybe I don’t think I know either of them well enough to make this type of decision.”
Daisy remembered when she’d made the decision to date Jonas exclusively. “You’re talking about a serious decision.”
“At my age, it has to be serious.” Iris’s chin came up, and her shoulders squared. “But it also has to be the right one for me.”
A man’s character often revealed itself, not just in his words, but in his actions, too. “How do you feel about Marshall giving you an ultimatum?” Daisy asked.
“I didn’t expect it, and it shook me up. I’m going to have to figure out why.”
Daisy patted her aunt’s hand. “You’ll figure it out. You have to do what’s best for you.”
“I think I’d like to take a vacation to Bora Bora,” her aunt said with a smile back in place now.
“But I would miss you.”
Iris shook her head. “I know. And I can’t escape from my problems. They’d just follow me.”
Daisy couldn’t help but point out the obvious. “Some women would think dating two men, with both of them wanting a relationship, would not be a problem.”
“I guess I’m not meant for one of those dating shows,” Iris said acerbically. “Let’s get back to work so I can think about something else.”
“Upcoming July specials?”
“Anything other than men.” Iris picked up her glass of iced tea along with the one Marshall hadn’t taken a sip from. On the way to the door, Iris stopped to say hello to Fiona, and then she followed Daisy back into the tea garden, where luncheon customers were arriving.
“I’ll get my hairnet and apron. I’ll be in the kitchen shortly,” Iris said.
After Daisy washed up, she joined April at the sales counter, where she was loading more rhubarb muffins into the tray.
“How do you come up with your recipes?” April asked her.
April looked pretty this morning in her short-sleeved dress covered with a pineapple pattern.
“I’m not sure about that,” Daisy admitted. “I guess I just take the ingredients that are available to me in the season, mix them up, and come up with something, either baked goods or usually salads.”
“Your grated carrot salad is delicious with the sour cream, lime, and honey dressing. I wish I could be as creative.”
“When you find something you like to do, the creativity will come,” Daisy promised.
“I like working here,” April said. “I like mingling with people. Your customers are very different than the ones at the Farm Barn were.” April had once worked at a farm-to-table family restaurant that had now been sold to a new owner.
“Is that good or bad?” Daisy asked with a laugh.
“I’m not sure. Your customers here come in expecting to be companionable with each other. They recognize each other from who’s come and gone other days at the same time. I’ve noticed that about your customers. Then there are the tourists, of course. You even know some of them.”
“Some of my customers have been coming since the tea garden opened.”
“I think I’ll move back to the apartment over the garage tonight.” April finished loading the muffins onto the tray and closed the case.
“You feel safe going back there?”
“I do. My guess is that the intruder was after those chests. Do you feel safe knowing that somebody might want them?”
“I have a good security system. Felix is a wonderful guard dog. And I’m sure Jonas will be alert to any strange noises.”
April had picked up the baking sheet that had held the muffins to take it back to the kitchen when Daisy recognized two men walking into the tea garden. Trevor came in first and then glanced back over his shoulder to check if Jonas was following. He was.
Trevor’s hair looked as if he’d run his hand through it about a hundred times. He often did that if he was agitated or nervous. Even Daisy recognized that habit of his. Jonas, on the other hand, looked composed and much too stoic. Daisy recognized that expression, too. He was going to tell her something she didn’t want to hear. She tried to concentrate on the fact that he looked unbelievably attractive today in a yellow Henley and khaki slacks. But he didn’t have his usual smile for her, and his green eyes looked worried.
Tamlyn Pittenger was nearby. She was a full-time employee and always kept a scrupulous eye on their customers and their tea services. She was about the same age as April and wore her long brown hair in a knot at the back of her head. Her cheeks were full, her wide lips were lightly glossed, and her bangs dipped to her brows.
Daisy motioned to her. “Can you handle the sales counter for a little while?”
Tamlyn glanced over the room of customers. “Sure.”
Trevor targeted his course straight for Daisy as she came around the counter. He jammed his pointer finger at her office, and she knew what that meant. This was a consultation. When she looked toward Jonas, he nodded that that’s what they should do.
Once the three of them were in her office and Jonas had closed the door, she asked, “Tea and a muffin?”
Trevor shook his head. “I don’t think so. Of course, after we talk, we might need tea with plenty of caffeine.”
Daisy sank down into her desk chair, and Trevor and Jonas took the other two chairs in the small space.
“Is everyone all right?” she asked, suddenly concerned for her family.
“All your loved ones and friends are fine,” Jonas said to ease her mind.
That left a multitude of possibilities.
Trevor leaned forward in his chair and propped his elbows on her desk. He studied her, watching her closely. “A man around thirty-five years old was found dead in Willow Creek near an overturned canoe.”
Daisy was saddened at that thought but didn’t understand why Trevor and Jonas looked so worried.
Jonas took over now. “The man didn’t drown, Daisy. He was murdered.”
It was as if Trevor couldn’t wait to jump in. “He might have died of asphyxiation and was most likely dumped there. A burner phone was found in the high grass along the creek.”
Studying the two men, one whom she dearly loved and one whom she respected, Daisy still didn’t realize what all this had to do with her. “Did you know this man?” she asked Trevor.
“No, I didn’t. But my instincts are telling me something you’re not going to like.”
“What’s that?” she asked warily.
“I believe the call I received and this murder could be connected. There is only one way to find out.”