Death by Tea (11 page)

“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?”

Rita sipped at her coffee thoughtfully a moment before answering. “Not really. Orville and Vivian keep to themselves mostly. Honestly, I think they have something for each other, but they'll never admit it. I can see it in their eyes, you know?” She leaned in close, pressing her breasts against the counter. The dress barely contained them, and I wondered how she wasn't wincing in pain. “It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if they had a room together at the bed-and-breakfast.”

I tried to scrub that image from my brain, and instead found myself thinking of the photograph I'd found. “What about Sara?”

“What about her?” Rita frowned. “I normally don't like to speak ill of anyone, but that woman had it coming.”

“How's that?” I asked, ignoring the first part. When doesn't she speak ill of people?

“Well, she is the reason Dan was kicked out of the competition. She almost broke the group up over it. She was so insistent that David be allowed admittance, they very nearly cancelled this year until it was worked out. I have the e-mails to prove it!”

“Don't you think everyone is being a bit too obsessive over such a simple thing as a book club?”

I knew I'd said the wrong thing the moment the words were out of my mouth. Rita's eyes widened and she clasped her free hand over her heart as she took a shocked step away from the counter. The flowers on her dress jumped up and down with the motion of her settling bosom.

“Simple?” she asked. “There's nothing simple about this. If we don't win, the teapot will be in Cherry Valley for another whole year. I don't think I could take it.” She shook her head and gave me a pained look. “I can't believe you said something like that.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “But I can find it in my heart to forgive you.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I best go.”

And before I could get in another word, apology or not, Rita was hurrying up the stairs to where the others waited.

I wasn't sure how much I'd learned from our little chat. Albert could have jealousy issues, but I just couldn't see him killing David over a little flirting—or a nude photograph. Orville and Vivian seemed outright incapable of killing anyone, so I wasn't even considering either of them as a suspect. And Sara seemed just as unlikely after what I'd seen at the pool.

My gaze ran over the Pine Hills group. If it wasn't someone from the Cherry Valley group, wouldn't that mean it had to be someone from our side?

Rita sat down between Jimmy and Cindy and immediately started talking. Copies of
Murder in Lovetown
sat between them, though no one had yet to open the book. I watched them for a good five minutes and noted that Jimmy and Cindy weren't looking at each other, let alone speaking. Could something have happened between them?

I decided it might be a good idea to find out. I waited another five minutes so I could fill a couple of orders, and then I handed the register over to Lena, who'd been focused on cleaning the tables and helping Vicki with the bookstore while I'd talked to Rita. I took off my apron, tossed it on the shelf beneath the counter, and then headed upstairs.

“Sorry to bother you,” I said as I approached. “But could I speak to Jimmy for a minute? It's about the library,” I added quickly. They'd all given me narrow-eyed looks.

“Can't it wait, dear?” Rita said in a “You're interrupting something extremely important” tone of voice.

“It will only take a second.”

Rita sighed and then nodded, as if giving Jimmy permission. He looked around at the rest of the group, looking far more nervous than he should. Even his size seemed to diminish as he followed me across the room, between a pair of bookshelves that did nothing to conceal us from the others. I'd chosen it simply because Trouble was lying atop the shelf and would hide most of my face, just in case someone was good at reading lips.

“Is there something you needed?” Jimmy asked with a frown. “If you have an issue with something at the library, you could come in any time and we can discuss it there.”

“It's nothing like that,” I said before biting my lip. Now that we were alone, I wasn't so sure of myself. I didn't know how he would react to my questions, and if he flew into a sudden rage it was unlikely anyone could get to us before he strangled me to death. “Is everything okay between you and Cindy?” I asked, figuring I'd best spit it out and get straight to the point.

Jimmy straightened to his full six feet. “I don't see how that is any of your business.”

“It's not,” I admitted. “But I could feel the tension between you.” I felt stupid, but added, “I'm afraid it might interfere with the chemistry of the book club. I wouldn't want something to hurt your chances at victory if it can be prevented somehow.”

His frown deepened before his shoulders sagged. Once again, he seemed diminished. “We had a fight.” His eyes flickered past Trouble's tail to where Cindy was sitting, trying hard to pretend as if she wasn't watching us. “A small one.”

“Yet you aren't talking to each other.”

He shrugged. “It's stupid, really. And I feel bad about what I said, considering what happened.” This time, his gaze moved to the sectioned-off portion of the store where David's body had been found.

Things started clicking into place. “Was the fight about David?”

Jimmy reached up and absently stroked Trouble. The black-and-white cat looked surprised at first but quickly settled in, enjoying the unexpected attention. I gave him a glare. If I would have tried that, the feline would have promptly tried to remove my hand from my wrist.

Finally, Jimmy nodded. “Cindy just about hyperventilated when that man spoke. She's always had a thing for the British. She watches BBC almost constantly. And with the way David looked on top of his accent . . .” He shrugged. “It was all she could talk about the other night. When we went to bed later, she asked me to, well . . .” His face reddened. I didn't have to think hard about what she'd asked him to do.

“So you were jealous?”

“Of course I was jealous. You saw the guy. What woman would want someone like me when she could have something like that?”

Jimmy might have been wearing another sweater vest and slacks, yet I could still see the muscles moving beneath the thick cloth. Despite Rita's insistence it was a hot day, he barely seemed to have broken a sweat with the extra layer. David might have been nice to look at and listen to, but Jimmy wasn't half bad either.

“She married
you
,” I reminded him unnecessarily.

“I know.” Jimmy sighed. “I felt insecure. I was dumb. And now, with this . . .” He gestured toward the corner of the room. “I feel bad.”

I eyed him. Jimmy was big and strong enough to kill someone with his bare hands. It would take someone strong to kill with a silver teapot. If I'd tried it, I might have dented the thing, but not killed anyone. I'd have only agitated whomever I was attacking.

“What time did you leave the night of the murder?” I asked, hoping I didn't sound like I was accusing him of anything. I plastered on a smile to help my cause.

Jimmy squinted his eyes as he thought about it. “I don't know the time exactly. I left with everyone else.”

“Did David fight with anyone during or after the meeting?”

“Outside of Rita? Not that I recall. It was mostly Albert and Rita who were arguing, which is the norm.”

“What about later, when you got back to the bed-and-breakfast?”

Jimmy shrugged. “I really didn't pay all that much attention. I went straight to my room with my wife where, well . . .” Oh yeah, I knew.

“Okay, thank you for talking to me.” I couldn't think of anything else to ask him. “I should probably get back to work.”

Jimmy turned and walked away without another word. He sat down and said something brief to Rita, who looked my way. There was a curiosity in those eyes, one I knew she would need to sate before she was satisfied. I had a feeling Jimmy wouldn't get a moment's peace until he told her what we'd talked about.

I reached up to pet Trouble. His ears pinned back and I jerked my hand away before he could swipe at me. “Traitor,” I grumbled before turning toward the stairs.