One Cuppa Brew: Book 1 in The Thyme for Tea Series (4 page)

“Really?” He looked stunned that she took a break from the relationship interrogation. “Well, okay. You know I shouldn’t tell you anything, right? But if you want to stay in the loop to help William, that’s fine. If he gets a hold of you, you will let me know, right? Will you give him my number?”

“I’m not sure he will call. He doesn’t know you,” she answered with a small frown.

“Well, if it helps, neither Jason nor I think he did it. But there will be pressure to arrest someone eventually. It depends a bit on how the family reacts. It isn’t tourist season, so that is a blessing in disguise.”

“Some of the ladies in yoga class were talking about it.”

“Wait, that isn’t allowed, right?” Andy interrupted her.

“Well, before class. But yes, it is usually fairly quiet once we enter the room,” she answered. “They said maybe she went to him because he was asking a lot of questions about her.”

“Yes, she may have addressed him head on. That would explain her being there. But who killed her, and why? I am afraid it won’t be safe for William to come home until we answer those two very important questions. Jason hasn’t been able to reach the eldest daughter. She took vacation starting yesterday, which is rare for her, according to her company.”

“Well, that is suspicious, isn’t it? Pastor glanced out the window as someone walked towards the door. “Oh look, there is that strange woman again. I wonder if I should say something to her?” Pastor sounded as though she was thinking out loud.

“What are you talking about? What woman?” Andy asked.

“The one that came in the store while you were there,” Pastor said insistently, wondering why he didn’t remember how odd she had been. “Oh, that’s right; you left before I began speaking to her. Well, she was interesting. She recognized the music on the chimes, for one thing. Said she had a twin sister that was into the Kinks growing up. Then she broke down when I asked if she would like some tea, or help finding a book. Said it was nice to meet me, like she might know me. Then she took off, on the verge of tears. She looks a bit better now. She still has that big bag with her, I wonder what’s so important to tote around.”

“Don’t get up!” He glanced at the woman again. “You said she had a twin? And she’s new to town?”

“Yes, why?” his mother asked.

“Lois Bell raised Jack’s twin daughters. They would be about that age. And the older one has been away from her job since yesterday,” Andy answered.

Pastor nodded, putting it together as he was speaking, immediately wondering why she had forgotten about the twin connection. That would explain her unusual behavior. “But why would she know who I was ahead of time? Or maybe I am reading too much into it.”

“Mom, give yourself a break. You are pretty famous locally, and you are wonderful at reading people. How do you think I got so good at what I do? I had to work hard to pull one over on you, Mom.”

She chuckled, “You always were better than your brothers with the flattery too, young man!”

“Oh look. You could just ask her how she knows you,” her son said, “since she is heading this way now.”

“Reverend Potts?” the woman asked as she approached the table. “I don’t want to disturb you. I just wanted to apologize for my outburst today.”

“Please, call me Pastor. Or Iris, if you prefer, dear. No need to apologize. Life can give us trials that overwhelm us. Would you care to join us? Do I know you from somewhere before today, honey?” she asked, as she moved over in the booth, making room for the newcomer to sit. “This is my son, Andy; he’s in town for a bit.”

“Well, thank you, I will. We have a mutual friend, I believe.” She glanced around behind them before speaking further, in very hushed tones. “William Winthrop was a friend of my late father’s. I tried to call him a few days ago, but didn’t speak with him until this morning. I guess his cellphone didn’t show he had a voicemail. He said I should come see you, and see if you might be able to keep me safe? I assured him I didn’t think I was in any danger, but that was before he told me about the murder. When I met you, I couldn’t admit to myself that I needed help yet. It’s unreal.”

Andy and Pastor started to speak at the same time. Just then the waiter came over to the table, so they both fell silent. After he took the dinner and drink order for the new woman, Pastor nodded at Andy and he began speaking. “You would be Julie Bell, then?” he asked, casually.

“Yes, how …how do you know my name?” she stammered.

“Do you know the name of the person who was murdered?” he asked, almost as if he was bored by the question.

“No, just that it was a new resident. I’ve been here looking for someone on Ono Island,” she answered.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Pastor mumbled under her breath.

“Where were you yesterday afternoon and early evening?” her son asked, starting to sound like the policeman Pastor believed him to be.

“I was flying in from Atlanta. We were scheduled to arrive about 9:00 last night, but the flight was delayed. I was so tired I booked a room at the airport hotel in Pensacola. This whole ordeal has been exhausting. Why, am I in some sort of trouble?” she answered, her suspicion growing as she spoke.

“Well, not if we can verify that,” Andy answered gently. “Why did you come? What are you looking for on Ono Island?”

“It’s a who, not a what, and I am not exactly sure. Is there somewhere else we can go to talk? I don’t want to speak about this openly.” Julie replied.

With a glance at his mother, Andy replied, “I believe Mom would let us go to the bookstore and chat. Does that sound okay, Mom?”

Pastor nodded, “Yes, let’s enjoy our dinner and get back soon. It’s been a long day already!” The others nodded, and Pastor noted she made no mention of her stepmother being in the area as they dined. Something was definitely odd about this.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Julie sank into the big comfy sectional in the center of the bookstore, and placed her carry-on bag on the floor near her. “I love the feeling here. I could stay and drink tea all day while checking out different new books. I just wonder - physical bookstores are falling by the dozen with e-readers everywhere, how do you do it?”

Pastor brought over the tray with the teapot, milk, and honey and set it on the ottoman. “I love my Kindle, too. In fact, I probably read more on that. But to answer your question, I have begun a list of reasons why we need both, especially here. The number one reason is sand!” she said with a smile. “You will notice I don’t carry many “new” books either, other than bestsellers and local authors. The bulk of my monetary profits is from the drinks. The spiritual rewards give me a way to continue to serve people, now that I don’t have a congregation of my own.”

As Pastor began to sit, she noticed the message light on the phone behind the counter. She considered checking it, but she wanted to hear what Julie had to say. The message could wait; she doubted it was anything important. Someone could have called her cellphone if they really needed her.

Andy came back from the restroom then and took a seat in one of the wingback chairs bordering the lush carpeted area Pastor had set in the middle of the store. A lot of thought had gone into the space, to create a relaxing and open atmosphere, with books lining the walls around them. It wasn’t your typical store, full of books with potentially creepy aisles, but a light and airy room, with the coffee and tea counter near the back of the space, a small kitchenette counter with soft light and a few stools, and bathrooms down the hall across from the flip-top entrance to the kitchenette. Her store was one of the larger ones in the complex, since she really wasn’t in it for the fiduciary profits, as she had mentioned. “So, back to Ono Island,” he said.

Julie sighed, “Yes, Ono Island. Well, when my mother was young she collected baseball cards. She was really into them for a long time, and managed to collect some very rare ones. She died soon after my sister and I were born, in a horseback riding accident. Her baseball cards were always kept in a couple of shoeboxes, with her old family pictures. I know that’s not the best system, but it worked for us. We had forgotten about them, and took out the boxes when my father passed away a couple of months ago, to use in the slide show at the funeral. It was the first time my stepmother had ever seen them. I guess my father kept that in our room and only let us look when she wasn’t home. He left them specifically to us in his will, and Jamie and I, my sister, were debating about selling them. I took the cards and contacted a guy in Trenton that knows how to move them, and he told us how to find buyers on Craigslist and eBay. There is a whole underground language on these things. It’s crazy. Anyhow, he put out some feelers, and someone on Ono Island sounded like they were chomping at the bit to buy two of them, but Jamie and I decided to wait to sell. We were really interested in how much they were worth. We didn’t even tell the guy about all of them.” She stopped talking long enough to take a deep breath. “When I went to our house to get them, I couldn’t find my stepmom, or the other box of cards. The guy in Trenton called and told me from the Craigslist ads, it looked like a meet had been arranged and was going to happen tomorrow. I got the first flight I could to see what was happening.”

“Bless your heart,” Pastor whispered.

“So you never got a hold of your stepmother?” Andy asked.

“No, I’ve been leaving voicemails for a few days. She hasn’t returned my calls.” The young woman answered.

“Tell me,” Pastor interrupted, “Does your stepmother play tennis?”

Julie began laughing, “Lois, play tennis, seriously? No, never. She wouldn’t have a clue.”

Andy glanced at his mother, “It was my understanding that she raised you from an infant, yet you call her your stepmother. Is there a reason you don’t refer to her as your Mom?”

Julie looked a little sheepish, “When I was a teenager it was pretty rough, and we parted ways for a long time. In my head I began feeling guilty for calling her my mother when my real mother had passed away, so I began to differentiate. It seemed to help me.”

“So what kind of terms were you on recently?” he asked.

“Oh, fine. We made up years ago. The funeral was tough on all of us. I haven’t heard from her much in the couple of weeks since we buried him. I’m not sure where she would go that she couldn’t return my call. I would think she’d tell me before going on a cruise or something. But why all the questions about her? Do you think she was trying to sell them without telling me and Jamie? She would never do that! But where are they then? Do you know any local baseball card collectors?”

Andy paused; he really didn’t know what to tell her. Should he let Jason enjoy the evening with his wife, since last night had been a bust, or should he bring him in and tell him about Julie? Would they be able to identify the body tonight, or would it have to wait until tomorrow when the offices were open anyhow? Given the hour, and the fact that Julie was either the most pathological murderer he had ever met, or completely unaware that the dead woman was possibly her stepmother, he was tempted to wait until morning. One look at his mother’s face and he knew that wasn’t an option.

Pastor put her hand on Julie’s and said gently, “Dear girl, I think it would be good for you to contact the police immediately. Perhaps the cards were stolen and someone else is trying to sell them. If that is the case, and there has been one murder already, you don’t know what lengths they will go to get those cards. And this wasn’t even the whole collection you put up for sale, you said?”

Their visitor shook her head, “No, this was just two cards. There are two boxes. Well, there were two boxes.”

Andy stood up and went over to the counter. “Let me call Jason, we need to get the officials involved.”

Andy shook his head. This whole thing was a mess. There were so many questions still. He could take Julie down to the station to talk to Jason. They thought it had been a long night before, it seemed sleep was not happening any time soon. He watched as his mother picked up the phone and pressed a couple of buttons. He continued to watch as she turned pale as a ghost and dropped the phone, falling into a faint and sliding down the counter. He was out of the chair instantly, moving to catch her before she hit the floor, as futile as that was from across the room. He jumped over the counter cowboy style and picked her up. He grabbed the phone as he heard the electronic voice telling him to press four to replay the message. Obviously something on the phone had caused this reaction. With slight trepidation, he grabbed the receiver, and did as instructed.

CHAPTER EIGHT

William was beginning to wonder when he would get a break in this mystery. So far he had driven all night and half the day. He had made contact with the younger sister, Jamie, who had told him about the baseball cards. She had also told him her sister left work the day before the woman had been killed outside his apartment, so he couldn’t remove her from suspicion in the murder. Luckily, he had been able to leave Pastor a message at the bookstore to watch out for her if she approached her. He found it hard to believe one of Jack’s girls could be guilty of such a heinous crime, but people did odd things. He shook his head as he hung up with Julie’s human resources department. She had been at work the day her sister said she had traveled. Was it the sister? No, he had already confirmed she hadn’t missed any work. Maybe she had just confused the travel day, that was in line with her personality as a kid, always a little flakey. He would call Iris in the morning and let her know she needn’t worry about Julie.

Now he was outside the pawn shop where Julie had made contact with the man about the baseball cards. What those girls were thinking coming to a place like this, he had no idea. Again, flakey. William wished he wasn’t under suspicion for the murder at home; it would be so much easier to go into the Trenton police department and introduce himself as an investigator, and use their info and resources to find out what he could about this guy. Instead, he was a one man shop. One man that hoped his constitution held up to whatever it would take to keep this guy under surveillance. William wasn’t twenty, let alone forty anymore.