I called Vance and updated him with the news. It wasn't a good turn of events. It meant that we had to work smarter and faster to clear Diane's name and her business.
I shouldn't have been surprised when my phone rang thirty seconds after hanging up with Vance, and it was Clemmie.
"I've already put the tea on. Get down to the shop as soon as possible. We've got some sleuthing to do."
"Is Roger there?" I wondered how Diane's husband was holding up.
"Oh, he's here all right, and he's a wreck. I might have to slip some fire whiskey in his tea to help settle his nerves, or maybe I'll blast him with a spell or two instead. Hmmm." Clemmie seemed to think on it.
"Clemmie! You can't go around spelling your friends." I then thought of something. "You've never spelled me and not told me about it, have you?"
Clemmie was silent for a moment before she said, "Are you on your way here or not?"
"Clemmie! I can't believe you. When?"
"When what?"
"When did you spell me?"
"Which time?"
"Oh, my word. What do you mean? There's more than one time?"
"Perhaps. You can be a bit stubborn sometimes." Clemmie was unapologetic.
"You're trouble, do you know that?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. Are you coming down here then?"
"Let me talk with Aunt Thelma and make sure she's good with it. One of us has to stay at the inn today. It's going to be a mess.” And hopefully not be a mass exodus once everyone finds out Mr. Haggerty was murdered. I felt torn. I wanted to stay and help my aunt, but I also wanted to help clear Diane.
Aunt Thelma popped her head out of the inn's front glass door. I was still on the phone with Clemmie. "Are you leaving or what? Clemmie says you better get a move on." Aunt Thelma held up her phone. I couldn't read the screen, but I assumed Clemmie had texted her.
"You sure?"
"Must I remind you that I ran this inn for thirteen years while you were off gallivanting around Chicago?”
"I wasn't gallivanting." I'd managed to build a successful career as a corporate event planner. By the look on my aunt's face, that was irrelevant. I shook my head. "You're right. I'm sorry." Aunt Thelma tossed me the keys to her Buick. "Call me if you change your mind. I'll come right back." Because even though Aunt Thelma had managed the inn while I was in Chicago, she also almost managed to run it into the ground. I couldn't think about that now. I turned my attention back to the phone. "Clemmie? I'll be there in a couple of minutes."
Normally, when I wasn't in a hurry, I would've chosen to walk the Enchanted Trail to the Village Square shops. The wooded path circled the lake, and it was an excellent spot to clear your thoughts and center yourself. But today, time was of the essence.
Misty, Luke, and Roger were waiting for me when I walked into the tea shop. Clemmie motioned us to the back corner. She had put a dry-erase board up and had written the word “suspects” on the top of it. Clemmie's tea shop, Sit For a Spell, had two sides. One served as a retail space, and Clemmie used the other as a seating area. Patrons could take their tea and goodies, supplied by Diane's bakery, and sit at one of the tables or order full tea service.
Right now, all that was on hold as Clemmie locked the door and flipped the sign over to closed. "We have to make this quick. I have the Parson bridal party coming in at two," she said.
We all took a seat and faced the board.
“The sheriff's department has zeroed in on Diane, which we all know is rubbish,” Clemmie continued.
I raised my hand and started to speak, not waiting for Clemmie to call on me. “That's because Mr. Haggerty had one of her pumpkin spice lattes in his hand when he died."
"That's just circumstantial evidence. We don't even know what the man died of!" Roger raised his voice.
"Unfortunately, we do." All eyes swiveled in my direction. "I overheard Dr. Humphrey at the inn. The latte was poisoned. I think he knows with what, but didn't tell me.” Everyone took a moment to let that information sink in.
Misty spoke up first. "Even if the latte was poisoned and Diane sold it, that doesn't mean she's the one that poisoned the drink. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of people, picked up coffee from her last night, and no one else died. I know I had a pumpkin spice latte, and Mayor Parrish picked up a coffee. It was a chilly night."
"I know. Vance and I grabbed a coffee from her, and we're fine."
"Diane was set up," Luke stated.
"That's what I'm saying," Clemmie said.
"My wife didn't kill anyone," Roger said to no one in particular.
"We wouldn't be here if we thought she did. The question is, who did?" Clemmie asked.
"Good questions. Didn't Mr. Haggerty run his mouth at the tavern on Thursday night?" Misty asked.
"That's right. I was there. He was talking about how backward our town is and how he couldn't believe his editor sent him here in the first place." Luke folded his arms across his chest in frustration.
I took out my cell phone. "I snapped pics of the article Mr. Haggerty wrote. There was a draft of it on his desk." I brought up the pictures on my phone and enlarged the photo to read. "Let's see. He goes after me saying the Mystic Inn in Silverlake is three stars at best. You're better off saving your money and staying off-site an hour north in Atlanta." I skimmed ahead. "Some people might like ghosts waiting on them, but this author's opinion is they are best kept in the graveyard." I scowled in spite of myself at Mr. Haggerty's dig on Percy and Eleanor.
"Three stars? He doesn't know what he's talking about!" Clemmie exclaimed.
I smiled at my friend. "Don't worry. He insults everyone. Listen to this: If you wind up sick, you might be out of luck. There's a new healer in town, but rumor has it she's yet to prove herself. Your best to stay clear of her concoctions.”
“Cassidy?” Misty asked.
“Yeah, I think that’s who he means. He goes on to say: If you'd prefer a real doctor, Silverlake has a shifter that's rumored to be decent, if that's your thing. Just hope you don't have a real medical emergency. The community hospital leaves much to be desired.”
“He did not say that," Clemmie seemed shocked.
I continued to scan the article. "He insults Craig and Bonnie at the tavern, Lacy at the charm shop, and Honor's candle shop. It goes on. Misty, he says you wouldn't know a bestseller even if you wrote it. Luke, he says your candy tastes stale." I looked up and met my friend's eyes.
"Stale? There isn't anything in my shop older than two days."
"Your chocolates are great," Roger said.
"Trust me, they are." I could eat a pound of Luke's fudge and still want more.
"What else did he say?" Misty asked.
I looked back at my phone. "He ends by saying: The only bright spot this week provided a reminder of where not to go on vacation. If you like mediocrity in all things from accommodations, to food, to entertainment—then Silverlake is your place. As for me, I won't be returning anytime soon."
"I'd say good riddance, but it seems wrong seeing the man's dead,” Misty said.
"I'll say it," Clemmie replied. "Good riddance."
"I agree. He insulted every member of this community with that article." Roger huffed.
"Right, but I'm not sure who else had a chance to read this. I'm going to bet one or two people, if any." It wasn't like Mr. Haggerty carried a draft of the article around with him.
"No, but he didn't hide his disdain. He said nasty comments to anyone," Misty added.
"He had no problem telling me tea was for old witches and vitamin-infused drinks were the way of the future." Clemmie rolled her eyes.
"Plus the tavern outburst," Luke reminded us.
"You're right. Even as I think back to last night, he got into it with Mayor Parrish a bit, insulting Terry Dawes.” Luke raised his eyebrows. "I guess meat on a stick was the final straw," I answered his unspoken question.
"I thought that was brilliant. The twins loved it,” Luke said.
"That's what Mayor Parrish said. But that only led Mr. Haggerty to start insulting shifters and every other supernatural who's not a witch."
"Did Terry overhear what Mr. Haggerty said?" Luke asked.
"I don't know, possibly?" I replied.
"Terry’s a grizzly shifter. You would think that if it was him, he would've snapped Mr. Haggerty's neck," Roger speculated.
"Unless he tried to make it look like it was someone else," Clemmie countered.
"I don't know about you, but I don't know Terry Dawes that well. Maybe we should look into him?” Misty suggested.
"You guys make some good points. We know none of us killed Mr. Haggerty even though he insulted our businesses. But we don't know Terry and I don't really know Cassidy that well, either.” I felt like I knew most of the shop owners a bit better, but even they couldn't all be in the clear.
"Cassidy seems like a nice woman. We talked shop a time or two. She uses quite a bit of flowers in her medicines. But I agree, we don't know her well enough," Roger added.
"Here's what I'm thinking. I want to see if we can trace Mr. Haggerty's last twenty-four hours. Find out who he talked to and most likely insulted," I said.
"I can do that," Misty shot her hand up in the air. "I'm trying to get my mind off things anyway," Misty grumbled to herself.
I let that last comment go. "Okay, while Misty does that, Roger, do you want to head to the bakery and check in with Diane about the kitchen? Hopefully, she's still there, and the sheriff doesn't have a search warrant yet. I think we should check the bakery's kitchen and make sure she's not been set up."
Roger nodded in agreement.
"Luke, do you want to look into Terry? See if you can find out where he was last night after he finished up at the high school?"
"You want an alibi," Luke replied.
"If possible. But try to keep it casual so they don't suspect anything," I replied.
"Okay, I'm on it."
"While you guys do that, I'm going to visit Connie and tell her about the latte. Maybe she has some idea what type of poison was used."
"Maybe we'll get double lucky, and Connie recently sold the ingredients," Clemmie pointed out.
"Yes, that would be helpful," I agreed.
"What do you want me to do?” Clemmie asked.
"Do what you do best. Listen to what people are saying, and see if you pick up any gossip." The tea shop would be bustling this afternoon. With a fresh murder on everyone's mind, they were sure to be talking about it.
"Put my ears on. You got it. I'll text you anything I hear."
"Great, I appreciate it." I looked around the group. "Any questions?"
"Nope, let's do this," Misty replied.
"Okay, great. Let's all catch up at the gala tonight. Sound good?"
There was a round of approvals, and then we all set out on our missions. "Misty, wait." My best friend had beelined it for the door.
"What? I thought you said time was of the essence."
"It is. I just wanted to check in with you after last night. Did you get a chance to talk to Daniel?"
"No, why bother? You heard what that psychic said. He's just going to break my heart."
"You cannot be serious," I kept my voice low.
"Listen, can we talk about this later? I only have a couple of hours, and I want to see how much I can piece together from last night."
I took a step back. "Yeah, absolutely." I left it at that, even though I wanted to tell my best friend to stop being ridiculous. I knew my well-meaning comment would only backfire.