Death by Tea (5 page)

I glanced at Paul, saw his contemplative frown, and realized that telling him my plan to poke around in the case would only end up with me behind bars or handcuffed to my bed.

I cleared my throat, suddenly embarrassed at where
that
thought had led me, and looked out the window as we pulled into my driveway. Paul stopped the cruiser beside my car but made no move to shut off the engine. He didn't even look my way, outside a quick glance. He bit his lip and then pointedly looked away. I could only imagine how we looked to Eleanor, who was inevitably watching, even now.

“Do you want to come in?” I asked. Maybe if I could talk to him alone, I could convince him I had nothing to do with this. I could show him Cardboard Dad and make him understand.

Then again, with the way my luck was going, he was just as likely to arrest me for stealing the darn thing. It might have been in my store, but it belonged to Rita.

“No,” Paul said after a moment. “I best not.”

“What about later? If there's a killer out there, I could use the company, just in case he has it in for me.” I winced at how pathetic that sounded.

Paul shook his head. “I need to focus on the job. There's still a lot to do. You'll be fine.”

My heart sank. “Okay.” There was no talking my way out of this one, not as long as everyone assumed I knew more than I was letting on. “Then I'll see you sometime soon?”

“Sure.”

I opened the car door and started to slide out. Paul's hand landed on my wrist and I just about threw myself into his arms. The worried look on his face was the only thing that stopped me.

“Be careful,” he said before letting me go. “I really hope you had nothing to do with this.”

That last bit stung. Where was the loyalty? Where was the innocent until proven guilty? It felt as if he'd punched me in the gut.

I got the rest of the way out of his car and then slammed the door a little harder than necessary. I caught Paul's wince before he turned and backed out of my driveway. I felt betrayed, horribly so. I mean, we'd gone on a date! Sure, it had been one measly date that hadn't yet developed into anything more than a few sweaty dreams, but that didn't mean he had the right to turn on me so easily. I really thought we could have had something.

As Paul's car vanished down the street, I turned away, determined to get to the bottom of this murder and prove my innocence, not only to Paul but to everyone who even considered for an instant that I might have killed David Smith. I would leave no stone unturned, wouldn't sleep until I found the true killer!

And I would start, just as soon as I showered.

5

Smelling of flowery soap and shampoo, and with legs that didn't feel like sandpaper as they rubbed against each other, I headed for Death by Coffee. I felt rejuvenated, alive, but the feeling was quickly dashed when I saw my poor store. Ugly yellow and black police tape was strung across the door. A few gawkers stood on the sidewalk, trying to see past the few policemen still working the scene. It had been hours, yet they were still looking around. I vaguely wondered if the body was inside but quickly buried the thought. I didn't want to know.

I hurried past, forcing myself to look straight ahead after my first curious glance. I wasn't going in to work today; no one who worked there was. I had a sinking feeling we'd be closed for a week or two, or at least until the murder was solved. I only hoped we could weather the storm without going under.

Business might have been picking up lately, but it still felt like we weren't making enough money. I didn't know if we were pricing our coffee too low, or if it was something else that was causing the numbers to look so pathetic. Vicki handled the money, so if there was something wrong, I was sure she would have told me by now.

I found a parking spot and pulled in. I shut off the car and then hurried across the street into a place called Scream for Ice Cream. It wasn't as bad of a name as a lot of the other stores in town, but it wasn't great, either. One of these days, a store called Bob's or something will open up. I don't care what kind of place it is; if a store opens with a simple name, I'll be the first in line.

An electronic ping sounded as I opened the door and stepped inside the ice-cream shop. Vicki was sitting at a table in the middle of the room. As soon as she saw me, she waved me over, smiling as if nothing was wrong. Half the guys in the place were watching her, and half of those didn't even have anything to eat. It was like she was a sun and every man on the planet had to fight with one another to orbit her. It was disgusting, really.

“How are you doing?” Vicki asked as I sat down across from her.

“I'm alive,” I said, wincing as I realized how it must have sounded. “Can you believe the police actually questioned me?”

“I believe it.” She nodded her head and shot a glance past my shoulder. I turned to find Officer Buchannan settling into a chair near the wall. He grinned and waved when he saw me looking.

“Great,” I said, turning back. I wondered how long he'd been following me.

“I already ordered for us, if that's okay,” Vicki said. “I know you love Rocky Road when things go wrong, and well, I think this whole mess qualifies as a Rocky Road event.”

As if on cue, a kid who was no more than sixteen came around the counter with two bowls in hand. He set them down in front of us before scurrying back, as if we might bite.

“I don't know if I can take this,” I said with a sigh. “Everyone keeps looking at me like I killed the guy.”

“Did you?”

I gasped in shock. “How could you ask that? Of course I didn't!”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Vicki shoved a spoonful of strawberry ice cream into her mouth and smiled.

I would have felt better if I believed it. I was sure there were more than enough women locked in a prison somewhere who were innocent of the crime they were convicted of. If I couldn't clear my name, Buchannan would make sure I joined them.

I leaned forward and lowered my voice. No sense letting Buchannan overhear our conversation if it could be avoided. “Did anything happen last night after I left?”

Vicki shrugged one delicate shoulder. “The meeting got a little loud and heated, but nothing anyone would kill over. I can hardly believe anyone would kill that poor man. He seemed so nice.”

“What about after? Were they still arguing after you locked up?”

Vicki actually looked embarrassed. “Well, I didn't actually lock up last night.”

That surprised me. One of us always closed, just as one of us always opened. I trusted both of our employees fully, but that didn't mean I wanted them in the store alone without either Vicki or me there to supervise them.

“Why not?” I asked. “Did something come up?”

“Not really,” she said between bites of ice cream. “Trouble didn't like all the yelling. We left as everyone was packing up. Mike closed up for me.”

“Oh.” Then that wasn't so bad. Besides, if one of those people was a murderer, I'd much rather have Mike there to deal with them than Vicki. I had nothing against him, but if I had to choose between them, I'd take Vicki's survival every time.

Does that make me a bad person?

I shoveled some Rocky Road into my mouth and chewed, feeling as low as I could go. I glanced back at where Buchannan sat and hurriedly looked away. He was staring at me still, in almost the exact same position I'd last seen him. It was downright creepy.

“Don't worry about him,” Vicki said. “He's just fishing right now. The police will realize you are innocent soon enough. It's not like they have anything on you, right?”

Sure, if you didn't count my fingerprints on the murder weapon, being placed at the scene on the same night as the murder, and, well, me being me. My life really did suck sometimes.

I took another large bite of Rocky Road and spoke around it. “Did the police talk to you already?”

Vicki's nearly ever-present smile slipped. “A little. They questioned me when they came to see the body. I called it in.” She shuddered. “It was horrible.”

I suddenly felt like the world's worst friend. In all of this, I really hadn't considered how finding the body would affect Vicki, or what condition he was in. All I knew for sure was that David had been hit in the head with the teapot hard enough to kill him. A shudder worked its way through me.

“Are you doing okay?” I asked, pushing my bowl away. I was only halfway through, but I was getting the chills thinking about the case and the cold ice cream wasn't helping.

“I suppose.” Vicki sighed dramatically. “I was worried they'd blame me, but they only asked me a few questions before kicking me out. And then when they told me the store would have to remain closed while they investigate, I put my foot down. There wasn't a mess and they are going to get all of the clues from there today, so there is no reason to remain closed longer than necessary. The police chief agreed with me, and we'll be opening tomorrow.”

“Really?” I wasn't all that surprised Vicki had managed to talk them into letting us open so soon. She could sweet-talk just about anyone. There was a reason her parents had pushed her so hard to follow in their footsteps and become an actress. She had the charisma for it, not just the looks.

Still, the thought of reopening Death by Coffee after such a horrible tragedy had me worried.

“Do you think that's such a good idea?”

“Why not?” Vicki asked. “It isn't our fault the man was killed.” She frowned. “I don't mean to disrespect him, and it is terrible what happened, but we shouldn't be punished for what someone else did. If we remained closed, our customers might go elsewhere.”

She didn't need to mention that those customers had only recently started coming to Death by Coffee for their morning jolt in the first place. If they stopped coming now, it was unlikely we'd ever get them back.

“Besides,” she went on, “if I have to sit at home and think about what happened, it'll drive me crazy. I'd much rather work.” She paused, her frown deepening. “I do think I might skip out on the audition I was considering, though.”

I looked up, surprised. “What audition?”

Vicki's face broke into a shy smile. “There's a local theatre that puts on a play every now and again. It's small-time stuff, really, but that's perfect for me. One of the leads had to bow out and her understudy is sick, so they're scrambling to find someone to replace her.” She shrugged. “I thought I might give it a try. I might not want to stand in front of a camera, but I don't hate acting. This kind of thing would be perfect.”

“Then you should do it.”

“I don't know. . . .” She trailed off and looked toward the window. “With everything that's happened, it might be in bad taste. I should focus on making sure Death by Coffee survives this. I'd feel as if I'm abandoning you.”

“Don't.” I took her hand and squeezed. “If you want it, you need to do it. Don't let this stop you.”

She eyed me a moment before breaking into a wide grin. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

I laughed. “What kind of play is it?”

“Well . . .”

She never got to finish.

“Oh, my Lordy Lou!”

I groaned inwardly and turned to face Rita as she hurried across the ice-cream store to where I was sitting.

“Can you believe what happened, right in your own front yard? I mean, good Lordy! It's like something straight out of a James Hancock novel!”

I grimaced. Of course she would think so. In a way, every murder was like something out of one of my dad's books. If they kept happening, I was going to have to move elsewhere, somewhere where no one had heard of James Hancock and wouldn't constantly remind me I was his daughter.

Rita looked around the shop, mouth pursed, and waved at Buchannan, who only grimaced. She then turned back to me.

“It's just terrible David was killed, but I can't say I am sorry to see him go. He wasn't fit for the book club. I don't think he cared one lick about the book we were reading. He hardly said a word the entire time we were there! He spent the whole meeting making eyes at all of the women.” She took a breath. “And now that he's gone, and the teapot is all dented and in police custody, I just don't know what we are going to do.” Another breath. “And that's not even the worst part! The killer stole my James!”

I just about choked. “You don't say?” My face felt warm, and I knew I was blushing as red as a carnation. I grabbed my ice-cream bowl and shoved a spoonful of melted Rocky Road into my mouth in the hopes it would cool me down.

“It's just plain awful!” she wailed. “I couldn't believe my eyes when I went to see what all of the ruckus was about and James was gone. I made the young man in the cute police outfit look for him, but he was nowhere to be found! What could James have possibly done to deserve being taken like that? He might have seen what happened, but it's not like he can talk.”

“Do you have any idea who could have killed him?”

Rita shook her head sadly. “I just don't know. David upset a lot of people but not so much I could see someone killing him.” She clapped her hands together. “Maybe if the police can't figure this one out, we can call your dad in! He'll know what to do.”

I tried really hard not to show any emotion as I said, “I doubt he'll be interested.”

“Oh, pah,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I'm sure he could make something of this. That's what he does!” She looked at her watch and then heaved a sigh. “Well, I best be going. I haven't had my morning coffee yet, and I just don't know what I'm going to do now that your place is closed.” She turned to Buchannan and raised her voice. “And I hope you are out looking for my James. Like I told you before, whoever took him is your killer, mark my words.” Back to me. “I'll see you.” She waved and strutted out the door.

“Talkative one, isn't she?” Vicki asked, grinning.

“Too much so.” I glanced at Buchannan, who was watching Rita leave with an annoyed expression on his face. I wondered if he was the officer she'd had searching for Cardboard Dad; I kind of hoped so. I turned away and lowered my voice. “She's going to get me into trouble.”

“How so?”

I leaned in so I was practically prone on the table. “You know that cardboard cutout she's all worked up about?”

Vicki nodded.

“Well, I took it.”

“You what?” Vicki just about shouted it.

Wincing, I leaned in even closer. “I couldn't stand the thought of the thing hovering over me while I worked, so I went to Death by Coffee last night and took it.”

Vicki's eyes widened. “Did you see David?”

I shook my head. “No one was there as far as I know. I only went inside the front door, grabbed the cutout, and took off.” I paused. “Where did you find him, by the way?” It seemed strange I wouldn't notice it, even in the dark. David Smith wasn't a small man, so I should have seen something—an outline, or looming shadow perhaps.

“Up behind one of the bookshelves,” Vicki said. “You had to just about trip over him to see him, which I did.” She pushed her mostly empty bowl away.

“Ah.” I guess that explained why I didn't see anything. And if he was all the way back there, there was a chance the killer could have been crouched behind the stacks without my knowledge, watching me.

The back of my neck started prickling. I glanced over my shoulder, but Buchannan was gone. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well, I think I'm going to spend the day shopping,” Vicki said, pushing away from the table. “And you're coming with me.”

“I am?”

“You are.” She took my arm and led me toward the door.

“I . . . I have a lot to do.” Like clean up after my cat and look into David's murder.

“You can do whatever it is you think you need to do later,” she said. “You really do need to get out more.” She stopped just outside the ice-cream store and turned to face me. “Have you done anything for fun since you've gotten here?”