The Tea Shoppe Mysteries Read online

  I could see a glint of laughter in Mathew’s eye when I held up my bag and announced I was all finished.

  “Got what you needed?” he asked.

  “Yep. Now my toes will be warm. I got a pair for Helen too.”

  Mathew’s eyebrows lifted. “Being a Good Samaritan?”

  “I felt kind of sorry for her.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Helen Cranz doesn’t come across as a very pleasant person, but I thought she seemed sad.”

  “Hmm. I thought she seemed angry, but the boots are a lovely gesture.” Mathew held the door for me, and we strolled out of the store.

  With bag in hand, I climbed up into the truck.

  “Still have the energy to go to the festival site?” Mathew asked before heading into traffic.

  “Sure,” I answered. I tilted my head and observed the man’s profile. He was very handsome.

  Mathew drove us to the festival site, a local park just outside town. Several people were already setting up their booths. The city workers were stringing lights in the trees, and the big Christmas tree was set up in the center of the area.

  Mathew frowned at the tree. “The festival usually starts on Friday night. At about eight, we have the tree lighting. The mayor is the one who usually flips the switch, so I don’t know what will happen this year. Robert Casey should fill in for him, but I’m not sure he’ll be in any condition to do it.”

  My shoulders sagged. This was just another letdown. I’d been looking forward to experiencing the entire festival the way Gran always described it in her letters, but now we didn’t know for sure if the festival would even go on as planned. So far, my life in Sea Side was not turning out as I’d hoped.

  Mathew showed me the spot where our booth would be set up. It was a great location, the point where three sidewalks met. Almost everyone who visited the festival would pass our booth at some time or other.

  “I’ve been to festivals in Texas before, but how do you think Gran will want me to handle this one?”

  Mathew pretended to stand behind a counter. He lifted an imaginary basket and said, “Here is a basket filled with goodies from Tea by the Sea. Help us support the local community church by purchasing one.” He cocked his eyebrow and gave an adorable smirk. I was sure if he was the one selling the baskets, every single woman in town would purchase one.

  “Hmm. I can give it a try, but I’m afraid I won’t make the same impact on women as you do.”

  Mathew stepped closer to me. “But you will on the men.”

  We stood facing one another. I wondered if he was feeling the same attraction for me as I was for him.

  I told myself to get my head out of the clouds. This man was the pastor of a church, way out of my league. I broke the mood by stepping back and pretending to take the basket from his hand. “Gran’s not going to help this year. That leaves it all up to me.”

  Mathew shook his head. “You have nothing to worry about. The ladies from the church who frequent the tea shoppe told me they would be taking turns helping you at the festival.”

  I opened my eyes wide at the thought. “The Bible Study Ladies?”

  Mathew laughed. “Is that what you call them?”

  “Yes. I tend to nickname our customers.” I tucked my head and turned away.

  “It’s difficult to tell them apart most of the time. I often think of them as numbers. You know, lady number one, lady number two… .” It was Mathew’s turn to look embarrassed.

  I felt a little relieved.

  “They take a bit of getting used to, but believe me, they’ll be helpful at the festival. They’ll sell every basket, even if they have to force people to purchase them. You know they have that southern charm, and they really do mean well.” His jaw softened into a handsome grin.

  I snickered. “I’m sure they do. If they weren’t always talking about finding me a husband, I wouldn’t have a problem with them.” When I finished speaking, I slapped my hand over my mouth and peeked at the pastor. I hoped he didn’t think I was hinting at anything.

  He winked at me, causing heat to rise on my cheeks.

  Mathew, I’d discovered, was almost a mind reader. He smiled. “Don’t worry, Georgina. The ladies have been traipsing every single woman in town by me ever since I moved to Sea Side. I can totally sympathize with you. Maybe if you and I spend more time together, they’ll ease up on both of us. They’ll think we’re courting.”

  I thought that sounded like a great idea, but his comment made me wonder. Is he interested in spending time with me, or is he just using me as a way to keep the Bible Study Ladies’ matchmaking at bay? If so, how long will we keep up the charade? I had no problem spending time with this handsome man.

  Throwing caution to the wind, I said, “I’m game if you are.” I tried to act nonchalant, but my heart was pounding just a little bit faster.

  He took my hand in his. “Good, I’m glad that’s settled. At least we’ll have some relief from their matchmaking during the holidays. Now, it’s been a long day. Let me take you home.”

  I nodded.

  Mathew continued to hold my hand, and we walked back to the truck, both rather quiet. I wondered what he was thinking. I knew what was on my mind, and it wasn’t murder.

  “Have you found the culprit yet?” Gran’s voice yelled over the phone. I pulled my cell away from my ear.

  “Not yet, Gran. Mathew and I talked to Robert Casey. We don’t think he had anything to do with the mayor’s death. Tomorrow we’ll talk to Don Johnson and Sawyer Dalton.” I sat down on my couch and felt my body finally relax. Tomorrow I will also have a Christmas tree, which will definitely help the ambiance of the apartment.

  “And what about that sassy secretary? She’s the one who had the most access to the petit fours.”

  I rested my head back, trying to imagine Phyllis poisoning the mayor. It made no sense. She complained about him, but I had no doubt she loved working for him. The worse he treated her, the more she probably enjoyed it, because she could complain publicly and get attention and sympathy.

  “I don’t know, Gran. I’m not going to consider her high on the list right now. We’ll see how Don Johnson and Sawyer respond tomorrow.”

  Gran didn’t sound convinced. “Georgina, have you tried on the dress yet?”

  I squirmed on the couch, trying to get more comfortable. “Yes, but are you sure I have to wear it?”

  “Yes! It’s a Victorian Christmas Festival. All the vendors dress in Victorian clothes. There will be carolers strolling through the park, horse-drawn carriage rides, and the local theater puts on small snippets from different Dickens plays. Everyone will expect you to dress the part as well.”

  I blew out my breath in frustration. The dress hung on the doorway between my living room and bedroom. It was truly lovely with its rose floral pattern, but I wasn’t too sure I’d be able to maneuver in it.

  “All right, Gran. I’ll wear the dress, and I’ll sell every one of those baskets. You just rest and recover.”

  “I hope so, Missy!” Gran said with obvious humor.

  For a moment, I wondered just how sick Gran really was.

  “Do you need me to stop by? I could bring you some soup or something.”

  Gran coughed and moaned a little. “No. I’m fine. I just need to keep resting. I should be fine in a day or so.”

  We said our goodbyes, and I turned on the television and found a mystery movie to watch. Throughout the entire hour and a half, I laughed at how the characters broke so many laws while investigating the murder. I knew it wasn’t very realistic, but it reminded me that Mathew and I needed to be careful not to break any laws while we were sleuthing. The movie made me think of something else. In asking questions, we might be putting ourselves in danger. We were looking for a murderer, after all.

  Following the show, I spent some time in prayer then slipped between the cold sheets on my bed, gave a little shiver, and fell asleep almost instantly.

  Thursday morning I stumbled through the apartment, waiti
ng for my coffee to perk. I peeked out the window and was glad to see it wasn’t snowing. The sun was shining, which gave me hope we wouldn’t end up stuck somewhere out on a country road.

  Mathew had agreed to pick me up again, so I hurried around the apartment, gathering my things. I slipped on my new boots, admiring them and enjoying the warmth they offered. I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to deliver the boots to Helen Cranz, but I assumed it would be sometime this weekend.

  When it was time for Mathew to arrive, I opened my apartment door and stepped out into the hallway. When I turned around to lock the door, I saw an envelope taped to the knob. Curious, I grabbed it, tore the envelope open, and read the short note.

  I dropped the paper and stepped away in fear. I turned my head from side to side, searching the area, wondering if whoever left the message was nearby.

  After assuring myself there was no one around, I reached down and retrieved the note. My hand was trembling, but I folded the paper carefully, tucked it in my purse, and ran down the hallway and into the parking lot. Mathew was in his truck waiting for me, so I rushed over, glad to see he had the door opened. I jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind me.

  Mathew turned, his eyes searching my face. “What’s wrong?”

  I pulled the note out of my purse and handed it to him. He read it and scowled. Without saying a word, he put the truck into DRIVE and pulled out of the parking lot.

  “We are taking this note to Detective Rawls,” he announced.

  I frowned. “But then he’ll know we’re looking into the murder. What if they discover papers have been moved in the mayor’s office? He might blame us.” I knew I was rambling out of fear.

  Mathew didn’t reach out to comfort me, and he didn’t offer any words to ease my thoughts. He was intent on driving straight to the police station, and as we got closer, I grew more and more nervous.

  “Are you sure this is the thing to do? I mean, this note could just be a joke.”

  Mathew steered into a parking spot, cut the engine, and faced me. “Georgina, this note is serious. Even though it doesn’t actually threaten you, it’s scary to think someone would put this on your apartment door.” His lips were pressed together in a thin line. He turned the note toward me, and I reread it:

  Mind your own business.

  Stop snooping or else!

  Mathew opened the truck door and got out. I reluctantly opened the door on my side and slid out. For a moment I considered running back home or to Gran’s, but I found myself trudging behind him into the station.

  We took the note to the front desk and asked for Detective Rawls, but they told us he wasn’t in the office, so Mathew handed the note to the desk clerk and insisted the man make sure that Detective Rawls got it as soon as possible. He emphasized that it could be a note from the mayor’s killer.

  Once he was convinced the man would do the job, he turned and stomped out of the station. I scurried behind and allowed him to help me up into the truck.

  When Mathew was behind the steering wheel again, I murmured, “What should we do now?”

  Mathew turned the engine on but didn’t shift into gear.

  “Probably just go home and keep out of things, but I’m even more determined now to find the murderer. Should we go ahead and drive to Don Johnson’s house?”

  I nodded at him mutely, surprised. I couldn’t believe he wanted to continue sleuthing. I was sure after the way he’d responded to the note that he would have insisted we give up the hunt. I settled back on the seat. I thought, If he can do it, so can I. I wasn’t going to allow someone to intimidate me.

  The driveway leading to Don Johnson’s cabin was a rugged dirt road that ran about a quarter mile through some lovely wooded areas. I was speechless as we crested a hill and his house came into view. It was amazing—a gigantic log cabin built in a small valley, surrounded by hills covered in trees. It was obvious he either came from wealth or made a lot of money somehow.

  I turned and glanced at Mathew. “Why would anyone who lives in a place like this want to be a mayor? He obviously has plenty of money.”

  Mathew shrugged. “Maybe power? From the little I’ve heard about him, he and the mayor go way back to high school. They competed in everything, including love.”

  I knew what that was like. I’d competed against a girl in my high school in many things and had lost my boyfriend to her in the end. I didn’t think I’d enjoy living in the same town as my rival, but I knew I wouldn’t kill her if I did.

  Before we could reach the door, Don came strolling down a path that led from behind the cabin. He had on a red and black jacket and carried an ax over his shoulder. This time he didn’t look angry, but I could remember the dark glitter in his eyes the day he’d stomped into the tea shoppe.

  “Pastor? What are you doing here?” He cocked his head, looking first at Mathew and then at me. He didn’t seem to recognize me.

  “Don, this is Georgina Quin. She’s taking over Tea by the Sea from her grandmother.”

  I watched his aura change. He set down the ax and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes bore into mine. “What do you want?”

  His attitude change caused Mathew to slide a step closer to me, but he focused on Don. “We’re talking to everyone who saw the mayor on the day he died.”

  The man stepped back as if he’d been slapped.

  “Why? Why are you talking to everyone? You aren’t the police. Why did you come to see me? Are you accusing me of something?” His voice quavered.

  Mathew moved toward him and laid his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Don, we just want to prove that Georgina didn’t poison the petit fours. Do you think you can talk to us about that day?”

  Don’s shoulders drooped. He sighed and turned. “Come in and have a cup of coffee.” He marched up the front steps, crossed the porch, and opened the door. Mathew grabbed my hand and pulled me along.

  “But, but … what if he’s the murderer?” I tried to whisper, but I’m sure my words echoed through the entire valley.

  Don’s eyes met mine for a split second, and then he disappeared inside.

  Mathew didn’t stop moving, so I allowed myself to be dragged along.

  “Hope you like caramel macchiato.” Don handed me a large mug filled with steaming liquid. I looked at the dark coffee, my mind on poison. Even if he was the murderer, he probably wouldn’t want to have to deal with dead bodies, I thought, so I took a sip and nodded.

  Don sat on a wooden rocking chair. Mathew and I were on the couch across from him.

  “Now, what do you want to know?” Don took a sip of his coffee.

  “Well, we know that you stopped by the tea shoppe that morning and saw the tray I prepared for the mayor.”

  He sat up straight. “What do you think? I brought poison with me and tampered with the tray you made?”

  “No, I don’t think that’s what you did. We’re just trying to figure out where everyone was during the day. We heard you stopped by the mayor’s office later on.”

  Don picked up his mug of coffee and took another long sip, then placed it down on the mahogany table again. “I did stop by. I was angry. Dalton found out I was going to order refreshments from Tea by the Sea for my campaign party, and he purposely put in his order first. After I saw your sample tray, I wanted to confront him. Sure, I went storming into his office. We had an argument, but I can assure you, when I left the office, the mayor was alive. He hadn’t even eaten any of the samples yet. The box had a lid on it, and I never touched it.”

  Mathew dipped his head up and down as Don spoke. I could tell Mathew believed everything the man said. I did too.

  “But now that the mayor’s dead, you won’t have any competition. You’ll win the race hands down,” I said, just to double-check his reaction.

  A frown furrowed his brow, and he shook his head. “That’s the problem. I honestly don’t care about being the mayor. It was the competition I lived for. Dalton and I have been competing since high
school. For every time he won and I lost, there was another time when I won and he lost. Without him to compete against, my life will be out of balance. I’ll probably withdraw from the race.”

  I was stunned. Doesn’t anyone in this town actually want to be mayor?

  Mathew scooted forward on the couch. “Don, don’t make any rash decisions. The town will need a new mayor.”

  Don stared at Mathew, questions in his eyes. “What about Robert Casey? He’ll take over for the next few months anyway. The town can just vote him in.” He crossed his arms.

  I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “We talked to Robert Casey yesterday. From what he told us, we aren’t sure he can fill in for the mayor now. He’s pretty torn up about Dalton’s death.” I looked at Mathew, wondering if I’d spoken out of turn. He nodded, so I went on. “Robert only liked the pro tem position because of how it made him look in the public eye. He doesn’t want to be mayor, nor does he have the ability, it seems. The city is going to need someone qualified.”

  By the way Don tilted his head, I could see I’d made him think.

  Mathew stood, so I did the same. “Thank you for speaking with us, Don. We have some other stops to make before it starts snowing, so if you’ll excuse us?” Mathew placed his hand on my elbow and began to press me toward the front door.

  I wasn’t sure we should leave the man alone, but I knew we still needed to see Sawyer Dalton and get a Christmas tree, so I allowed him to lead me out onto the porch. Don stood and followed us.

  “Thanks for the coffee.” I smiled.

  He nodded then turned to Mathew. “Pastor, I want to do the right thing. I’ll be praying about it, but would you put in a word with the Man Upstairs for me?”

  Mathew shook Don’s hand, promising to pray, then walked by my side to the truck.

  Once we were in the truck and settled, Mathew turned out of the driveway onto the main road. After some time, he spoke. “I’m beginning to wonder if there’s anyone in this town who really would want to murder the mayor. So far, our top three suspects have all been put into precarious positions by the mayor’s death. His secretary may be out of a job, his pro tem forced into a job he doesn’t want, and his biggest rival may have to become mayor, even though he never cared about the job in the first place.”