Death of a Mad Hatter (A Hat Shop Mystery) (10 page)

“Something’s wrong, yeah?” she asked.

I wanted to stomp my foot and howl, yes, that this was the worst party ever because she had my dress and Harrison was too old for her and Nick was suddenly besotted with a true mean girl. Thankfully, a smidgeon of maturity kicked in and instead, I gave her a small smile and said, “Just a tiny headache, no big deal.”

Fee didn’t look like she believed me. Smart girl. But she didn’t say anything.

“Well, my lovelies,” Viv said as she joined us. “Have we done enough promotion for the shop?”

“I thought we were here to support Andre,” Fee said.

“Of course we are,” Viv said. “But mostly, we’re walking advertisements for Mim’s Whims. You did work the shop into every conversation, didn’t you?”

Fee looked stricken, and I felt sorry for her.

“Go easy on her,” I said. “She’s a rookie.”

Viv gave me a look as if to say she was surprised I was standing up for Fee, which was ridiculous. I didn’t have a problem with Fee. If anyone, my issue was with Harrison for looking at a girl who was too young for him.

“Are you ladies calling it a night?”

Speak of the devil. Harrison appeared on the other side of Fee.

“We are,” Fee said. “And you?”

“I’ve eaten all of the tiny food I can cram in,” he said. “I’m ready to go.”

“Excellent,” Viv said. She waved at Andre over the heads of the crowd until he waved back. I waved, too, and nodded when he gestured that he’d call me later.

As we cleared the door, Viv slipped her hand through Fee’s arm and said, “So, I was thinking that since I am finished creating the hats for the Wonderland tea and I’ve caught up to all of the special orders, you might like an assist on the hats for the Butler-Coates wedding.”

“Do you mean it?” Fee gasped. Viv nodded and Fee clapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh, thank you. I know I said I wanted to do it myself, but that bridezilla is about to drive me right out of my mind.”

She glanced over her shoulder at us—okay, mostly at Harrison—and asked, “Did you hear? Viv is going to save me!”

He grinned at her and I smiled. I knew Fee had been struggling with the big event. The Butler-Coates wedding had a high-maintenance bride with seven bridesmaids in it, so it was a doozy.

“Maybe we can start all over, because goodness knows, I am getting nowhere,” Fee said. She looked so relieved, I couldn’t help but be happy for her.

Viv laughed and hugged Fee close to her side. They continued walking and I heard Viv say, “Tell me some of your latest ideas.”

Fee took a deep breath and out poured a flood of hat talk. I glanced at Harrison. He was watching them with a small smile on his lips as if he was charmed by the sight of them, which I found very irritating.

I picked up the pace of my walk so that I was right on Viv and Fee’s heels, not that they noticed, since they were discussing the different types of fabric they could use for the bride’s veil. Harrison kept pace with me, but when I would have slammed into Fee’s back because she stopped short for a woman walking her dog, he caught me by the elbow and kept me from crashing.

Viv and Fee kept walking, but the little black-and-white dog danced right in front of my feet, blocking my path.

“Hey there, little fella,” I said. I knelt down and patted his soft head. He wagged and panted. Harrison knelt down beside me and scratched the dog’s back. The dog pranced on his feet and licked Harrison’s wrist before trotting off with his owner, who smiled at us.

When I straightened up, I saw that Viv and Fee were half a block ahead of us. For a moment I wondered if Viv had planned this whole thing, but that seemed over-the-top even for Viv.

The streetlamps glowed bright white, while the shops that remained open beat back the night’s darkness from their windows with warm squares of yellow light.

“Listen, Scarlett,” Harrison said before I could continue walking. “About before—”

“No.” I held up my hand. “It’s none of my business.”

“But you need to know—” he began, but again I interrupted.

“No, I really don’t need the particulars of your whatever,” I said. “If college girls are what you’re into, it’s none of my affair.”

“College girls are what I’m into?” he repeated, sounding confounded.

Two older gentlemen walking around us stopped, and one of them nudged Harrison with his elbow. “Nothing wrong with that, Batch; enjoy your youth while you can.”

Harrison gave him a dark look and he and his friend hurried off. I surmised from the wobble in their walks that they’d been indulging in a pint or three of Fuller’s ale.

I’m partial to Fuller’s London Pride myself. It’s a nice pale ale that goes amazingly well with a pasty or a plate of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Of course, they don’t generally serve it as cold as I was used to in the States, but I’ve found that I liked it better that way.

“What does ‘Batch’ mean?” I asked.

“It’s short for ‘bachelor,’” he said.

“Huh.” I resumed walking, but again Harrison stopped me with a hand on my elbow.

“So why does it bother you?” he asked.

“What?” I blinked at him. When all else fails, I’ve discovered playing dumb is a fabulous diversionary tactic.

“Me and Fee.”

My eyes widened. He admitted it! My expression must have given my thoughts away, because he looked at me and shook his head.

“Not that there is a me and Fee,” he clarified, “but why does the idea bother you so much?”

The man was like a dog with a bone, and I was beginning to feel like the marrow. Honestly, how was I going to get out of this one?

His green eyes narrowed as he waited.

“I already told you,” I said. “Fee’s too young for you.”

“Oh, codswallop!” Harrison said. “Eight years is not too young, but that’s not the point. The point is I don’t believe you. What’s really bothering you?”

I stared at him, refusing to answer. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels as if he had all the time in the world to wait for my answer. When he started to whistle, I glowered.

“You really think you’re all that, don’t you?” I asked. I decided to go for the offensive strike.

“Hey, now, what do you mean by that?” he asked.

I turned and began walking. When he would have grabbed my elbow again, I dodged.

“You refuse to believe that I am just looking out for a friend,” I said. “Because your male vanity insists that it must be something else.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he protested as he matched his stride to mine.

“Then why don’t you believe me?” I asked.

We were nearing Mim’s Whims when Harrison slowed his pace. There was no sign of Viv or Fee, so I assumed they must have gone inside. The shades were drawn over the windows, but the overhead security light illuminated the walkway in front of the shop.

“I’ll tell you why,” he said. He stopped in front of the door.

“This should be good,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my toe on the sidewalk.

“You have no problem throwing Viv at that adolescent Liam Grisby, and their age difference is about the same as Fee’s and mine,” he said. “So, Ginger, why the double standard?”

I felt my insides sink like a deflated cake after a loud bang. He had me. Why did I think it was okay for Viv and Liam to hook up but not Harry and Fee?

“That’s different,” I protested.

“Really?” he asked. “How?”

“Because you’re an older male and Viv is an older female and the relationship dynamics are completely different.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking my stance.

“I have another theory,” he said. “Care to hear it?”

“Not really, no,” I said.

“Excellent, here it is,” he said, completely ignoring me. “You’re jealous. That’s why you’re so interested in whether Fee and I have something going.”

“I am not,” I argued.

He leaned close and grinned at me. “Yes, you are.”

I wasn’t sure what annoyed me more, the fact that he looked so smug or that he was right, a fact I was not even willing to admit to myself just yet.

“I will have you know, Harry, that I couldn’t be less interested in you if you were three feet tall, bald, and had hair sprouting out your ears.”

He grinned at me. “Right.”

With one word, he mocked. I desperately wanted to kick him but even more I wanted to win the argument if for no other reason than to preserve my dignity.

“And even if I had taken complete leave of my senses and was jealous, which I’m not, it wouldn’t matter because I have taken a vow of celibacy for at least one year.”

“What?” he asked. He looked shocked and appalled.

Ah, now I had his attention. I reached around him and grabbed the handle to the door, relieved to find it unlocked.

“You heard me,” I said. “Good night.”

I stepped inside and shut the door without inviting him in.

Viv was putting away the hats she and Fee had worn. I lifted the pretty pillbox off of my head and handed it to her.

“Everything all right?” Viv asked.

“Peachy,” I said.

She raised her eyebrows, but I didn’t elaborate.

“Where’s Harrison?” she asked.

“He had to go,” I said. Which was not a complete lie in the sense that he really needed to get away from me.

“Oh, I was hoping he’d come and cook something for us,” Viv said.

“I can cook,” I offered.

“And by that, you mean you can place an order for takeaway?” Viv asked.

“Exactly,” I said. I do like to play to my strengths.

Fee came down the stairs with her dress returned to its garment bag, which was hanging over her arm. She was back in her capri pants and flats, looking very Cinderella-back-from-the-ball.

“I have to run,” she said. “My brothers will wonder where I am.”

“You really need to bring them round sometime,” Viv said. “They might trust you more if they met us.”

“Or they’d start bossing you about, too, yeah?” Fee said.

Viv and I exchanged a look. That would not go over well.

“See you tomorrow,” Fee said.

She sailed out the front door and I wondered if Harrison was out there waiting for her. Not my business, I told myself. Still, as I locked the door behind her, I shifted the blinds to peer out the glass portion of the door.

The street was quiet and Fee was striding off on her own, chatting on her cell phone as she went. I wondered if she was calling her brothers to assure them that she was fine. Then I wondered what her brothers would think about her and Harrison. Not that I would tell them about the pair, I’m not that meddlesome; still, they were awfully protective. I bet they’d think Harrison was too old, too.

“Trouble over there, Scarlett?” Viv asked.

I dropped the blind and turned around. “No, not a bit. So, what’s your fancy for dinner? We could walk over to Notting Hill Gate and get takeaway soup and sandwiches from Le Pain Quotidien.”

“Sounds perfect,” Viv said. “I could use a tasty tartine, and if we walk, it won’t stick to my arse.”

I laughed. Viv never was one to candy-coat things.

We locked up and stepped out into the cool June night. Soup and a sandwich would surely put things right, and if not, there was always treacle tart with cream.

• • •

With Fee and Viv preoccupied with the Butler-Coates wedding, I was left to man the shop, which was not a bad thing since of the three of us, I had the best people skills. Thank goodness or I’d really have nothing to contribute to our enterprise.

It was midafternoon and business had tapered off enough that I decided to sit in one of our squashy blue chairs and put my feet up. Yes, the minute I put my feet up I should have known something bad would happen. You can almost always bank on that sort of thing in retail.

I did not see the bad thing coming as Detective Inspector Finchley arriving with his own entourage of crime-scene investigators. I was so engrossed in the latest issue of the
Daily Mirror
—don’t judge; a customer left it behind—that I didn’t even hear them enter the shop until the detective was standing right beside me.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Parker,” he said.

“Ah!” I yelped. My feet came down, my paper flew up and my heart about smashed through my rib cage. I put a hand over my chest and tried to catch my breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. His jowls wobbled, and I suspected he was trying not to laugh at me.

“No harm done,” I lied. I was pretty sure a few days had been shaved off of my life, but yeah, no biggie. I stood and faced him. “I take it this isn’t a social call, or are you all looking for new hats?”

One of the female techs behind him stifled a laugh, and I decided that I liked her.

“Actually, this is quite serious, I’m afraid,” Finchley said. His brows met in the middle in a severe frown, eradicating any of the humor that had flitted briefly across his face like a cloud over the sun.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “What can I do to help?”

“The forensic pathologist has discovered that Geoffrey Grisby’s death was not from natural causes,” Finchley said. His face was grim.

I said nothing. I suppose I should have told him that Tina had already told me he’d been poisoned, but I wanted to wait and see where this was going before I volunteered any information.

“Are you saying he was murdered?” I asked, because I like to be specific like that. I raised my eyebrows to indicate my surprise.

Finchley pressed his lips together as if he was trying to determine how much to say. Finally, he gave me an abrupt nod.

“But how?” I asked. “There was no blood or sign of a wound or anything to indicate a struggle.”

“Looked at him that closely, did you?” Finchley asked me.

“I was the one to find him,” I said. “I did turn him over.”

“Indeed,” Finchley said. For one word, it sure packed a punch.

“Hey!” I protested. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I have absolutely no reason—”

“Didn’t you flee the States after battering your lover with his anniversary cake?”

I felt my heart, which had finally resumed its normal rhythm, stop and fall down into my stomach. My face felt hot with shame. My voice was very quiet when I spoke.

“I don’t really see what one has to do with the other.”

“Neither do I,” he said. “But I promise you, if there is a connection to be made, I will make it.”

It didn’t feel like a threat so much as a promise. Okay, that was intimidating.

“And I can assure you, there is no connection,” I said. “We were commissioned by the Grisby family to design the hats for the Wonderland tea. That is all.”

“Then why does Mrs. Grisby refer to your cousin as her old friend Ginny when your cousin’s name is clearly Vivian?” he asked.

I glanced over his shoulder at the crime-scene techs who had come with him. The woman was checking out our hats. The man was absorbed by his cell phone. So no backup there.

“Surely, you noticed that Mrs. Grisby is not operating at full mental capacity,” I said.

“She does seem a bit addled,” he conceded.

“My cousin felt it was kinder to let Dotty think of her as her old friend instead of insisting that she wasn’t. We’re very nice like that.” I gave him a pointed look, which he ignored.

“Is your cousin here right now?” he asked.

“Yes, she’s in back, working on some hats,” I said.

“You make them here?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Why?”

“We’ll need to see your work area,” he said.

“All right, follow me,” I said. I led them through the shop to the workroom, where Viv and Fee had music playing. Fatboy Slim’s “Praise You,” to be precise.

Fee was singing along while Viv was bobbing her head. Finchley seemed to take the room in at a glance—an unhappy glance.

“Viv,” I called to my cousin, but she couldn’t hear me over the music.

I hurried across the room to the computer, which was live streaming the XFM radio station. With a click of the mouse the music switched off and both Viv and Fee glanced up with What-the—? looks on their faces.

“Viv, this is Detective Inspector Finchley,” I said. “He’s here to ask you some questions.”

Viv tossed her long blonde curls over her shoulder and stared at him. “Whatever about?”

“Poison,” he said.