Murder with Lemon Tea Cakes Read online

Page 12


  Daisy was relieved when her mother didn’t comment. Whether or not she disapproved of Iris’s relationship with Harvey, her mom understood how much her sister was hurting today. With Rose on one side of her and Daisy on the other, Iris joined the line of mourners and waited for her turn to stand near the head of the casket.

  Monica was still planted there, ramrod straight. When she spotted Iris approaching, she glared at her.

  “Don’t let her intimidate you,” Daisy murmured to her aunt. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Then why do I feel like the other woman?” Iris responded sadly. “Harvey told me his divorce was in the works when we started dating. He said the papers were all drawn up and it was just a matter of signing on the dotted line. But somehow Monica kept stalling.”

  All of a sudden, Harvey’s daughter walked toward them, her head lowered. Daisy was afraid that Marlene as well as her mother would be vindictive and they’d all get caught up in a scandalous scene. However, that wasn’t what happened. When Harvey’s daughter approached them, she did so with a half smile.

  After a glance at Monica, Marlene leaned closer to Iris. Right next to her, Daisy could hear Marlene say in a low voice, “I’m glad my father found you. For the month, he’d been happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

  “That’s kind of you to say,” Iris murmured. “I cared about your father deeply.”

  “I believe that. After he spent time with you, even just to have a cup of tea, he acted like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.”

  Daisy cut Monica a quick glance and could see her scowl. It wasn’t attractive.

  While Iris thanked Marlene for expressing her sentiments about Harvey, Daisy wondered if Marlene took after her father, rather than her mother. And Daniel? At present, he was nowhere in sight.

  Suddenly Marlene took Iris’s arm and motioned to vacant chairs under one of the canopies. Daisy and her mother followed as Marlene led Iris in that direction. Once they were seated, Marlene took one of the chairs and spun it around so she was facing them. The gathering was breaking up, and most of the mourners who’d paid their respects were heading for their vehicles.

  The look on Marlene’s face told Daisy she needed to confide in someone. Apparently, that someone couldn’t be her mother. She said to them, “The day before Daddy died, he brought me a book of his coins. He said he was changing his life and he wanted to change mine, no matter what my mother and brother did.” She nodded to Iris. “I imagined that meant he was going to ask you to marry him.”

  She peered into the area behind the canopies. When she sighed, Daisy realized why. Her brother, who had been sitting hunched in the back row, stood. But as he made his way around the row of chairs, he wobbled. He looked as if he couldn’t stand straight or walk steadily.

  There was an irrefutable look of sadness in Marlene’s eyes as she watched him. She practically whispered, “Daniel was once so close to Dad. When he and I were little, we spent hours sitting with Dad, sorting through coins. I’d be bored after a little while and would slip away, but Daniel didn’t. He stayed right there. Dad always maintained he was teaching Daniel history. I don’t know what happened between the two of them. Maybe someday Daniel will tell me. I’d better see if he needs me to take him home. I don’t want him stopping at Bases on the way. He’s been spending too much time there.”

  Daisy knew Bases was a sports bar and could understand Marlene’s concern.

  Marlene stood and briefly touched Iris’s arm. “It was good talking to someone who really cared about Dad. Please excuse me.”

  As Marlene made her way to her brother, Daisy felt certain she wasn’t the killer. However, when she looked over at Daniel she had her suspicions about him, right or wrong. In spite of his inebriated condition now, he was tall, muscled, and every bit capable of picking up a unicorn statue and smashing it into his father’s head. Could a son have done that? Could Daniel Fitz have killed his father?

  Daisy leaned toward her aunt. “Doesn’t that make you feel better, knowing that Harvey was serious about you?”

  “I suppose,” Iris admitted, her gaze still on Harvey’s daughter. “I’m surprised she told us what she did. Wouldn’t she be on her mother’s side? Her mother is all she has left now.”

  “Maybe when Harvey brought her that book of coins, she saw another side of him,” Daisy suggested. “Maybe her mother had been filling her head with lies about her dad, and when he came to her himself, she saw the truth.”

  While they had been talking to Marlene, Daisy’s attention had been diverted from the friends and neighbors who had been paying their respects at the casket. But now she spotted Cade walking toward them. In his hand, he held one of the roses from the spray on the casket.

  He approached them all with a smile and a “hello,” and then he held out the red rose to her aunt. “I thought you might like to have one of these.”

  Daisy could see her aunt became misty-eyed. “Thank you so much, Cade. That means a lot. I wanted to go up there and pluck it out myself, but I guess I just didn’t have the courage with Harvey’s wife standing right there.”

  “Nonsense,” he said kindly. “You have courage. You also have common sense. I’ve heard rumors about Harvey Fitz’s wife. She can be anything but pleasant. She’s giving one of my associates a really hard time.”

  “She’s thinking about selling the mansion?” Daisy asked.

  “Apparently so. Though I think she’s waiting to find out what’s in Harvey’s will.”

  Just what had Harvey Fitz put in his will? Had he changed it at the last minute?

  Daisy’s mom put her arm around Iris. “Come on, why don’t we go to the car?”

  Iris nodded. It seemed all the oomph had gone out of her.

  All too easily, Daisy understood how grief could do that. She turned to Cade. “Thank you so much for thinking about my aunt that way. I know she wouldn’t have taken a rose herself. She didn’t consider herself immediate family, although if all the signs were right, she might have soon been part of Harvey’s most intimate family.”

  Cade cast her a glance. “Would you have approved?”

  “My approval didn’t mean a thing. I just wanted . . . want . . . my aunt to be happy.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Would you have approved?”

  Daisy thought about it, then responded, “I understand that Harvey and my aunt are older, and grabbing happy moments becomes even more important as you age. But he wasn’t divorced yet, Cade. He shouldn’t have been making any kind of promises. That says something about the integrity of a man, don’t you think?”

  “But what about love, Daisy? What if Harvey and your aunt were truly in love? Harvey following his heart should have meant something too.”

  Daisy understood what Cade meant. Maybe she’d always followed the rules a little too closely. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, and you’re right. A man following his heart should mean something.”

  “I don’t think I told you how much I appreciated dinner at your house. Maybe we can do it again sometime. I’ll give you a call, and I’ll take you to Sarah Jane’s diner. She has the best potpie and shoofly pie around.”

  Maybe Daisy had been wrong about Cade. She’d thought he didn’t have a romantic interest in her. Possibly he did. Would she like to follow up on that? Wasn’t it time she moved her life forward?

  “I’d like to go to Sarah Jane’s with you.”

  When Cade smiled at her, his smile was reminiscent of the boy who’d asked her to the prom. Potpie, Sarah Jane’s, and Cade. It was a nice combination.

  * * *

  Everyone was exhausted by the end of the day. Daisy and Iris had returned to the tea garden to continue the busyness of the week. Daisy had asked Karina to stay until closing. Jazzi had come in after school, and they needed her help too. There was a rush on scones, not a drop of soup left in the pot, and Daisy had so many kinds of tea steeping she could hardly keep track. But she did. They all did a wonderful job. But
if they were going to be this busy, she had to consider reorganization. It was the only way to keep up the standard of quality she needed to maintain.

  Later, at home, she made a quick supper of barbecued beef, oven-roasted potatoes, and salad. Jazzi ate in her room as she worked on her homework. Daisy tidied up the kitchen, made her to-do list for the next day, then went upstairs to talk to her daughter.

  When she entered the room, Jazzi was sitting at her desk with her laptop open before her. Pepper lay across her lap, and Marjoram, on the desk with her golden eyes following Jazzi’s fingers, made sure Jazzi’s keystrokes were the right ones.

  “You have helpers tonight,” Daisy commented.

  Jazzi didn’t look up, but Pepper meowed. She was the more vocal of the two cats and talked back often. She made her needs known, whether she was hungry or just wanted attention and affection. Stretching out, she reached one paw toward Daisy.

  With a smile, Daisy ran her hand over her thick black coat and gently scratched her under the chin. Pepper’s motorboat-like purr practically filled the room.

  Jazzi gave a sigh and turned away from the computer. “She’s louder than my music sometimes.” She motioned to Marjoram. “And with her watching my every move, I feel like I have a bodyguard.”

  “They love you.”

  “They love you too. You just move around a lot more than I do when you’re in the house. So they settle with me. Their company helps when I’m missing Violet.”

  So Jazzi finally admitted it. “You wish she was coming home before Thanksgiving.”

  “So do you,” Jazzi accused defensively.

  “Yes, I do. But I didn’t tell her that. The first month or two of college is really important. She’s settling in, and that’s a good thing. Those first two months, when she makes new friends, can determine her social life while she’s there.”

  “But you don’t know if she’s getting into the wrong crowd.”

  “No, I don’t, but I have to trust her. I have to trust what I’ve taught her, what your dad and I taught her. And you have to trust her too.”

  Jazzi ducked her head and focused on Pepper. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Daisy wasn’t buying it. “I think you do. You’re afraid Vi will make new friends and forget all about you.”

  When Jazzi made eye contact with Daisy, an expression crossed her face that told Daisy she was right on target.

  “It’s okay to miss her, Jazzi. You’re both going to move on. But your bond as sisters—that will always be there.”

  Once more Jazzi looked down at the cat and petted her. “What happens to that bond if I look for my birth parents?”

  “Have you told Violet that you are?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “I think she’ll support whatever you need to do.”

  “She could feel I was being disloyal.”

  “She could. But you won’t know until you talk to her about it.”

  “Maybe I’ll think about it,” Jazzi murmured. Then she asked the question Daisy knew she’d been wanting to ask. “Have you found anything more about my birth mother?”

  “No.”

  The disappointed expression on her daughter’s face broke Daisy’s heart, so she sat on Jazzi’s bed. “Because I couldn’t find anything on my own, as I mentioned the other night, I decided to ask for help from Jonas.”

  “What’s he going to do?”

  “He has more than decent computer skills from his investigative years when he was a detective. For starters, he’s going to try to find the lawyer who handled your adoption. He can be so much more effective at searching than I can. Than we can.”

  “Mom, you do understand why I have to do this, don’t you?”

  “I’ve got to admit the idea of you finding your birth mother scares me. But I don’t want you to feel as if you have a hole in your heart because you don’t know that part of yourself. So I’m behind you on this, Jazzi. Honestly, I am. I’ll help you do whatever we can to find out something. I can’t promise we’ll find your birth mother or your birth father, but we’re going to start, and maybe we’ll get somewhere.”

  Jazzi’s eyes glistened with tears. “Thank you.”

  Before Daisy started crying herself, she cleared her throat and said, “Now let me ask you a question.”

  “Uh oh. What?”

  “How would you really feel if I went out to dinner with Cade sometime?”

  “You mean like on a date?”

  “I don’t know if we’ll call the first time that, but, yes, on a date.”

  “I can’t think of you with anybody else but Dad.”

  Daisy suddenly felt deflated at the idea of moving on.

  But then Jazzi continued. “I’ll always remember you with Dad. I have all the memories of the things we did, the places we went, the four of us together. And I’ll never forget them. I know you’re thinking about what happens after Violet finishes college and maybe moves away from Willow Creek. And what happens when I go to college. I guess you don’t want to be alone.”

  “I would never be with a man just because I don’t want to be alone.”

  Jazzi thought about that, and then she nodded. “Okay. But I guess what I’m saying is—I don’t want you to be alone either. You probably need more than these two fur babies to keep you company.”

  “I don’t know. They might be a lot less complicated than dating.”

  Jazzi laughed. “You could be right about that. But I get it, Mom. If you want to date Cade, I’m okay with that. But what about Jonas?”

  “What about Jonas?”

  “Have you ever thought about dating him?”

  “I . . . I—” She stopped and felt her cheeks redden.

  Jazzi pointed at her. “You have.”

  “I don’t know if Jonas is ready to date. I certainly don’t know if he’s interested in me.”

  “But if he is?”

  “I’m not even going to think about it. Cade asked if I’d like to have dinner at Sarah Jane’s some time, so I thought I’d talk to you about it. That way if he asks and I say yes, you won’t be surprised.”

  “And if Jonas asks, and you say yes, I won’t be surprised either.”

  Daisy just shook her head, rose to her feet, and went to the door. “Just so you know, dreams of Cinderella are still alive for you. But my dreams about being Cinderella—they’re far in the past.”

  “Was Dad your Prince Charming?”

  “No, he was my partner. We loved each other, Jazzi, and all we wanted was the best for you and Vi.”

  “I’m sorry I hid all this from you, Mom. I’m sorry I’ve been . . .”

  “Difficult?” Daisy asked.

  “Yeah, difficult. But I didn’t know how to tell you, and I didn’t know what to do.”

  “The next time that happens, just come talk to me.”

  Instead of leaving the room, she went to her daughter and gave her a hug. It was the best way she knew to communicate what she wanted to tell her—that she loved her no matter what.

  They were just leaning away from each other when Daisy heard her cell phone play from her pocket. “I’d better get that,” she said to Jazzi. “It could be your Aunt Iris.”

  “Or Cade asking you for a definite date,” Jazzi said slyly.

  Daisy blew her daughter a kiss and checked her phone screen. She was surprised to see the Willow Creek Police Department number.

  “Hello?” she asked tentatively.

  Two minutes later, she’d gone downstairs to her bedroom and closed the door. Then she made a call. She hated to do it this late. Of course, some people wouldn’t consider nine o’clock late. But she didn’t feel she had a choice. She expected to reach voice mail, but she didn’t.

  Marshall Thompson answered himself. His deep baritone sounded distracted as he said, “Hello.”

  “Mr. Thompson, it’s Daisy Swanson.”

  “I saw your name come across my caller ID. How can I help you?”

  “I hope it’s not too
late—”

  “Never too late for a client who needs my help. What’s wrong, Mrs. Swanson?”

  “Please call me Daisy. Detective Rappaport called me. He wants me to come in for questioning tomorrow afternoon at one o’clock.”

  “I see. Do you want me to go with you?”

  Daisy thought about that. “I don’t think that’s necessary, but I just wanted your advice on how I should handle it.”

  “Mrs. Swanson”—he quickly amended—“Daisy, the only advice I can give you if I’m not with you is not to talk to the detective.”

  She was silent for a moment. “If I don’t talk to him, he’ll think I’m hiding something. He’ll think I’m guilty of something.”

  “Possibly. But if you talk to him without my presence, you could say something you wish you hadn’t. If it’s my fee you’re worried about, I’ll remind you I’ll charge you half of my hourly rate. You’re a friend of Jonas.”

  “And the hourly rate is?”

  “I’m billing at $300 an hour right now.”

  She gasped.

  “If I’m with you, we won’t be at that police station longer than an hour. That would be $150. Can you manage that?”

  “Yes, I can manage that.”

  “Then I’ll meet you at the Willow Creek PD at one o’clock.”

  “Do you think they’re going to question me about something in my statement?”

  “Possibly. Or else new information has come to light and Detective Rappaport wants to question you about that.”

  “But I don’t know anything!”

  “Oftentimes, you think you don’t know something when you do. Try to get some sleep tonight, Daisy. I’ll see you at the station tomorrow at one.”

  After Daisy ended the call, she slid her phone onto her dresser. She thought about calling her aunt to see if she had received a call from Detective Rappaport too. Then she decided against it. If her Aunt Iris had received a call, she would have phoned Daisy.

  Jazzi rapped on Daisy’s bedroom door.

  Daisy said, “Come in, honey.”

  Sticking her head around the door, Jazzi asked, “Is anything wrong? You ran down here awful fast.”

  “No, nothing is wrong,” she lied. Wasn’t protecting Jazzi from angst her job? “I’m going to make myself a mug of hot chocolate. Do you want one?”

 

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