The Tea Shoppe Mysteries Page 19

  I had seen her leave right after Freddy confessed. As I gathered my things, Enos stopped me at the door. “In case the chief didn’t say anything, thank you, Ms. Holland.”

  I blew air through my bangs. “You’re welcome, Enos. I’m just glad the questions are answered.” A few minutes later, I was in the car, calling Paul. I explained what had happened. “Freddy asked for a lawyer. I didn’t know if you could be his lawyer, or maybe your daughter?”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  On the way home I found myself missing Marshfield. The way he had wormed his way into my heart in such a short time amazed me. I picked him up from the vet and headed for the tea shoppe.

  All I wanted to do was head up to my apartment and cry. But that could wait. The people of Sea Side wouldn’t be satisfied until they saw me in person.

  As soon as I parked the car, Norman Dexter walked up. “You can’t deny me an interview,” he said reasonably. “It’s in the public’s best interest.”

  Of course I could refuse—if I wanted to read what his imagination put into print in place of the truth. “I’ll make a statement today. Check with me tomorrow about a time for an interview.”

  He opened his mouth as if to protest then shrugged. “That’ll do. I’ll head by the police station to check their blotter.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  “Come on.” I put my arm through his. “Let’s go face the lions.”

  Later—much, much later, as customers continued to pour in long past our usual closing time—Georgina locked the shop door and we headed upstairs. Marshfield had spent the rest of the day in the newly constructed kennel. He seemed relieved to see me and ready to settle down in his spot by the window.

  A few minutes later, I took pizza slices out of the microwave and poured tall glasses of milk. I’d had enough tea, coffee, and soda pop to keep me afloat for a week.

  “This is the way I like it,” Georgina said. “Although I wish Mathew could have been here.”

  “Me too,” I admitted. “He’s due back sometime today.” I pulled up a stool and rested my feet on it. “The Tea Shoppe sleuths can retire for good.”

  “Hear, hear,” Georgina said.

  In the distant future I heard someone laughing. I had a funny feeling our Tea Shoppe had not seen its last mystery.

  PAUL HOLLYWOOD’S HOT CROSS BUNS

  2¼ cups strong white bread flour, plus extra for dusting

  2 teaspoons salt

  ⅓ cup sugar

  2 teaspoons rapid-rise yeast

  ⅛ cup unsalted butter, softened

  2 medium eggs, beaten

  ½ cup warm full-fat milk

  ½ cup cool water

  5½ ounces sultanas

  3 ounces chopped mixed peel (lemon & orange peel)

  Finely grated zest of 2 oranges

  1 dessert apple, cored and diced

  2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

  For the crosses:

  ⅓ cup flour

  5 tablespoons water

  For the glaze:

  ⅓ cups apricot jam

  1. Put the flour into a large mixing bowl. Add the salt and sugar to one side of the bowl and the yeast to the other. Add the butter, eggs, milk, and half the water, and turn the mixture round with your fingers. Continue to add the water, a little at a time, until you’ve picked up all the flour from the sides of the bowl. You may not need to add all the water, or you may need to add a little more—you want dough that is soft but not soggy. Use the mixture to clean the inside of the bowl, and keep going until the mixture forms a rough dough.

  2. Tip the dough onto a lightly floured surface and begin to knead. Keep kneading for 5 to 10 minutes. Work through the initial wet stage until the dough starts to form a soft, smooth skin.

  3. When your dough feels smooth and silky, put it into a lightly oiled large bowl. Cover with a tea towel and leave to rise until at least doubled in size—at least 1 hour, but it’s fine to leave it for 2 or even 3 hours.

  4. Tip the dough onto a lightly floured surface and scatter the sultanas, mixed peel, orange zest, apple, and cinnamon on top. Knead in until evenly incorporated. Cover and leave to rise for an hour.

  5. Fold the dough inward repeatedly until all the air is knocked out. Divide into 12 pieces and roll into balls. Place, fairly close together, on 1 or 2 baking trays lined with baking parchment or silicone paper.

  6. Put each tray inside a clean plastic bag and leave to rest for 1 hour or until the dough is at least doubled in size and springs back quickly if you prod it lightly with your finger. Meanwhile, heat your oven to 425 degrees.

  7. For the crosses, mix the flour and water into a paste. Using a piping bag fitted with a fine nozzle, pipe crosses on the buns. Bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown. Warm the apricot jam with a splash of water, sieve, and brush over the tops of the warm buns to glaze. Cool on a wire rack.

  Bestselling author Darlene Franklin’s greatest claim to fame is that she writes full-time from a nursing home. She lives in Oklahoma, near her son and his family, and continues her interests in playing the piano and singing, reading books, enjoying good fellowship, and watching reality TV in addition to writing. She is an active member of Oklahoma City Christian Fiction Writers, American Christian Fiction Writers, and the Christian Authors Network. She has written more than fifty books and 250 devotionals. Her historical fiction ranges from the French and Indian War to Vietnam, and from California to Maine.

  SCONES TO DIE FOR

  CYNTHIA HICKEY

  CHAPTER 1

  “Ashley Lawrence. Your attention, please.” The professor’s stern voice pulled me from the plot of the true crime show I’d watched the night before.

  “Professor.” I enjoyed taking the latest shows and comparing them to the lessons I learned in my summer session forensics class. Unfortunately, it left the instructor thinking me an addlebrained fool.

  “Care to share with the class what I was talking about?”

  “Uh, blood spatter?”

  The class snickered. My face heated, even more so when I caught the amused glance of the handsome Brad Overson. Shrugging, I turned my attention back to Professor Lyons. “You were showing slides on how patterns can show a bullet’s trajectory.”

  “Well, you were paying attention.” He sneered. “Your semifinal will be a paper based on a real crime, how it was solved, and how you might have done things differently. Team up with someone. Papers are due one month from today.” He shuffled the stack of papers on his desk. “Dismissed.”

  “Want to be my partner?” Brad leaned close from his desk a few feet away. “As much television as you watch, we’re sure to get a good grade.”

  I laughed. There wasn’t anyone I’d want to partner with more. “If you don’t mind being paired up with someone the professor obviously dislikes.”

  “He doesn’t dislike you,” he said, hazel eyes twinkling as we left the classroom. “He expects great things from you.”

  “Because I’m an older student?” At twenty-five, I’d quit my receptionist job at Miller Inc., taken a part-time job as a delivery girl at Tea by the Sea, and enrolled in a forensics class as the first step toward fulfilling my dream.

  “I’m older than you. Besides, age is just a number. I’d rather work with someone closer to my age than one of the kiddos.” He held the outside door open. “When do you want to get together and plan our case?”

  “I’m headed to work right now. Can I call you after I’m finished?” I didn’t blame him for not wanting to pair with someone younger. The female students flocked around him like bees to a flower.

  “Sure.” He wrote his phone number on a sheet of paper and slipped it inside one of my books. “Talk to you later.”

  I had a skip in my step as I hurried to my car. I’d be working closely with the handsome Brad. Me, the dreamer. The assignment would be a piece of cake with us doing it together.

  Fifteen minutes later, I entered Tea by the Sea to work the next five hours.
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br />   “We need you here tomorrow morning,” Georgina, the owner’s granddaughter said. “The other delivery girl has a doctor’s appointment.”

  “I’ve got class at nine.”

  “Please?” She smiled.

  I sighed. “Okay.” The professor would have one more thing to be on my case about. Still, I couldn’t go to school without money, and without a job, I wouldn’t have any money. “I’ll make it work.” I flashed a grin and grabbed a bag of crumpets to deliver to the library.

  After dropping the treats at the local book club meeting, I made my way to the front desk. “Are the books in?”

  “I’ve got them right here.” The librarian smiled. “You sure like blood and gore, don’t you?”

  “I like puzzles. Murder is a puzzle waiting to be put together.” I carried the books to my car and returned to the tea shoppe.

  The cute shop done in pink, green, and yellow never failed to calm me. I poured a cup of tea, grabbed a large cinnamon bun, and settled down to read until I had to make another delivery. The longer my classes went, the more the books made sense and filled me with purpose. I could see myself at a crime scene, taking notes and snapping photographs. I stared out the large front window, envisioning myself solving a difficult crime.

  The bell over the door jangled on a regular basis as customers came and went. Some chose to sit and talk for a while.

  “Delivery.” Georgina set a striped bag on the counter.

  “Got it.” I left my books on the table, grabbed the bag, and noticing the delivery was for the local bookstore a few doors down, chose to walk. Who was the author doing the signing this time? It would be great if a true crime writer visited our town. I grinned. Maybe I could become that writer.

  Professor Lyons had it right. My head was always in the clouds.

  “Hey.” Brad stepped from the drugstore.

  “Hey, yourself.” I grinned.

  “You stepped in gum back there.” He pointed at my shoe. “Dreaming again?”

  “Yep.” I glanced down and grimaced then scraped my shoe on a grate in the sidewalk. “Thinking of our assignment. I borrowed some books from the library. Want to come back to the shop with me and go through them?”

  “Sure. Your boss won’t mind?”

  “Not as long as I make deliveries when needed. Be right back.” I darted into the bookstore, dropped off the delivery, and then rejoined Brad. Since we’d run into each other, we could get a head start on our assignment. “Don’t you have a job?”

  “Yes, but Mondays are my day off. I work four tens at the construction yard.”

  Which would make it difficult to work together much except for the weekends. Still, I wouldn’t want a different partner. We’d make it work.

  Deliveries picked up the last half of my shift, and I left Brad digging through the books as I worked. The people of Sea Side, Maine, really liked their sweet treats.

  On the way back from a delivery at a flower shop, I glanced at the double glass doors of Miller Inc. I usually had an order of scones to be delivered by now. Roy Miller served them, without fail, during the end-of-day meeting he usually had with clients. I pushed through the door before returning to Tea by the Sea.

  “Good afternoon, Sue.” I leaned on the reception desk, breathing through my mouth so as not to inhale too much of the woman’s overpowering perfume. “Roy sick?”

  “No, why?” Her fake eyelashes looked too heavy for her to fully open her eyes.

  “I haven’t seen an order for scones today.”

  She gasped, glancing at the clock. “I forgot to order them. Will you take care of it?”

  “Sure, we all forget sometimes. How are you liking it here?”

  “It’s okay. It’s a job.” She leaned her elbows on the desk. “Roy’s a bit of a hothead, isn’t he?”

  “I never saw that side of him.” The man had always been a sweetheart. But then, I’d never forgotten to order his daily treats and always performed my job to his satisfaction. “I’ll be back with the scones.” I glanced at Roy’s office door, hoping he’d look out so I could say hello. Maybe I’d see him later.

  When I returned to Tea by the Sea, I placed the order for Roy. Since the shop was busy, I had time to sit with Brad. As long as the scones were delivered by four, Roy would be happy, and Sue out of trouble.

  “Find anything interesting?” I pulled an unopened book toward me.

  “Lots, but I’m hoping to find something unique, unusual, that maybe the other students won’t stumble across.” He rubbed his hands roughly down his face. “I’m going cross-eyed.”

  “Have a cup of tea, and I’ll look for a while.”

  I’d barely gotten immersed in the pages before Georgina announced that Roy’s order was ready. “I’ll be back.” I grabbed the order and practically ran down the street.

  Sue wasn’t behind her desk. No one answered my knock on Roy’s door. I shrugged and headed for the conference room, where I placed the scones on the sideboard. “Hello?”

  A door clicked shut down the hall. I peered from the conference room. “Roy?” Spiders skittered up my spine, and every B horror movie I’d ever seen ran through my mind. “Sue? I’ve brought the scones.”

  I checked the women’s restroom and found no sign of Sue. I knocked on the men’s room and received no reply. It seemed as if everyone had gone home early, but they wouldn’t have left the front door unlocked, and I’d never known Roy to close up early. Millers Inc. was an insurance company for corporations, and he often stayed late.

  I moved back to the reception area and stepped behind the desk. Sue’s scarlet purse sat underneath. Her cell phone, plugged into a charger, sat next to the desk phone. Where could she be?

  Frowning, I headed to the supply room and found it locked. I felt a little foolish but knocked anyway. “Sue?”

  A groan came from the other side.

  “Where’s the key?” I jiggled the handle again. “It’s me, Ashley.”

  “Desk drawer.”

  I thundered down the hall and riffled through the skinny drawer under the computer until I found a key ring. A sparkling cat with pink rhinestones, one missing where the cat’s eye should be, held several keys. I carried the ring back to the supply room and tried each key until I found the one that opened the door. I reached inside and flicked on the light.

  Sue, face streaked with mascara and eye shadow, sat frozen on a folding chair. “Someone locked me in. It’s not a very funny joke.” She glared at me. “I hate the dark.”

  “Don’t look at me. I just got here. Where’s Roy?”

  “He was in his office when I came to get the paper plates. He said his clients were going to be a little late, and that once I had the conference room set up, I could leave.”

  “I knocked on his door. He didn’t answer.” I stepped aside so she could move past me.

  “Maybe he was on the phone.”

  True. I’d try again.

  Sue returned to her desk. I knocked once more on Roy’s door. Still no answer. The doorknob turned easily in my hand.

  I opened the door to darkness. “Roy?” I reached over and turned on the light.

  His office chair faced the wall behind the desk. I could see the top of his gray head. “Did you fall asleep?” I laughed. “It isn’t like you not to be waiting on your scones.”

  When he didn’t answer, I stepped around his desk. The first thing I noticed was the blood spatter on the landscape painting on the wall. The second thing was the gun in his hand.

  I stumbled back, knocking over a desk lamp. “Sue! Call the police.”

  “What’s wrong?” She entered the room, dropped her purse, and screamed.

  CHAPTER 2

  I whirled, gripped Sue by the shoulders, and gave her a shake. “Call the police,” I said again. When she continued screaming, I shook her harder. “Now!”

  As she dashed from the room, I squared my shoulders and studied the scene with a clinical detachment. I focused on what I had learned in my col
lege class dealing with blood spatter. Yes, I might drift off to la-la land on a regular basis, but I could clearly see that Roy hadn’t killed himself. He was left-handed for one, and the gun hung from his right hand. And the angle of the spatter was all wrong. It was even on the wrong wall. Someone had killed my former boss and tried to stage it to look like a suicide.

  I removed my phone from my pocket and started snapping pictures, shoving aside my grief at Roy’s death. I’d deal with that emotion later. Right now I needed to prove to myself I have what it takes to be a forensic scientist.

  When sirens wailed to a stop outside the building, I slid my phone back into my pocket, took one last look at a good man, and then joined Sue by the front desk. I swallowed back tears and waited to be questioned.

  Two police officers headed to Roy’s office after I pointed, and another kept Sue in the reception area while telling me to find a different room and wait there. I went to the conference room and stared at the scones still sitting on the sideboard. I’d never deliver them here again.

  “I’d like to ask you some questions, ma’am.” A middle-aged officer, ROGEN, his badge said, took a seat across from me. “Name first.”

  “Ashley Lawrence. I work at Tea by the Sea.”

  “You found the body?”

  I nodded. “I found it strange that Roy wasn’t waiting for his scones.” My gaze fell on the bag again. “I deliver them every day by four.”

  “How well did you know the deceased?” His pen scratched across the surface of his notepad.

  “I used to be the receptionist here.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

  “Have you noticed anything different about Mr. Miller lately? Has he been depressed, out of sorts?”

  “No, but I haven’t worked here in several months. I only see him when I deliver his scones. Who wouldn’t be happy knowing they were going to bite into one of those?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” He sat back in his chair, spearing me with his glare.