The Diva Serves High Tea (11 page)

Dear Natasha,

My foodie girlfriend turned her snooty little nose up at the lemon curd I made with lemon juice from a bottle. I think there's no difference in flavor. I can't imagine you wasting your time squeezing lemons! Back me up on this!

—Sour in Lemon Grove, California

Dear Sour,

I can't believe you used bottled lemon juice. Your girlfriend is right. Squeeze the lemons yourself for a pure lemon experience.

—Natasha

I felt like crying, too. Surely Wanda couldn't be the Rosie of the notes?

I stepped away on the pretense of washing my wineglass.

It wasn't out of the question that something else had
made Robert ill, and Wanda had fed him a potion that contained botulism to cure what ailed him.

“Okay, here's what we'll do. Where does she keep those vials of medicinals?” I asked.

“In an old-fashioned doctor's bag.”

“It's in the room where she's sleeping?”

Natasha nodded.

I thought fast. What could I do to get Wanda out of the house for a little while? “Tomorrow morning, tell her to meet me at the grocery store on King Street at ten o'clock.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because you have no food in your house?”

“That might work,” Natasha said.

“I'll buy her a latte and while we shop around, you grab the medicinals and take them to be analyzed. Okay?”

“What if they contain botulism?”

The answer seemed clear to me. Wanda would have to turn herself in. Clearly, it would have been an accident. I wasn't sure Natasha could take that news, though. “Let's wait until we have the results. Okay?”

Daisy and I walked Natasha home. “Any news on your attacker?” I asked.

“Wong says there weren't any fingerprints. Unless something is missing and it turns up somewhere, it's a dead file.”

“I'm sorry. Are you scared?”

“Not as scared as I am for my mother. I forgot all about the man who attacked me when I ran over to your house.”

I wished her a good night and watched to be sure she made it in the door safely before Daisy and I turned back. Daisy stopped dead on the sidewalk.

“What is it, Daisy?” I murmured. I peered into the night. Just past Nina's house, I thought I saw movement. Just a shadow, really. Why hadn't I brought my phone? I squinted and stared, alert for any sound or movement.

I didn't see anything. I coaxed Daisy across the street and ran for my front door. When we were inside, and it was locked, I sagged against the door with relief.

“Was there really someone out there?” I asked Daisy.

She wagged her tail and walked into the kitchen, where I kept the dog cookie jar.

“You're so smart.” I fed her a cookie and, with the lights off, I looked out the bay window at the quiet street but saw no one. Still, I double-checked the doors to be sure everything was locked, and it took some time to fall back to sleep.

In the morning, after a strong cup of tea while taking care of Daisy and Mochie, I walked over to the hotel where the lawyers were staying.

The conference liaison was engaged in what appeared to be a heated conversation with the tour guide and bus driver. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but there was no doubt that something had gone awry.

“Good morning. Everything okay?” I asked.

The conference liaison turned weary eyes toward me. Dark blue rings hung under her eyes. “It's that Elise Donovan. The woman is driving us nuts. She thinks everyone is supposed to be her personal assistant.”

Were they talking about Alex's new flame?

“Sophie,” said the tour guide, “I hope you don't mind that I made a decision without consulting you. She asked us to take her little boy with us today, unaccompanied by an adult. Honey, it's hard enough keeping up with the adults. I am
not
a babysitter! How could I guide everyone if I was chasing after a little boy the whole time?”

“No problem. I understand completely.” What kind of person would hand over a child to a bunch of strangers? “Aside from the fact that you have a job to do, everyone would have required a special liability waiver. I can't imagine what she was thinking. She should know better than that.”

The hotel liaison groaned. “She's thinking she doesn't want to be saddled with that little boy.”

The shock I felt must have shown on my face.

“The night before last I was up with him half the night.” The liaison looked around and lowered her voice. “Her
sweet boy woke up and realized his mommy wasn't in the room. He was scared out of his poor little mind and wandered downstairs to the lobby all by himself. They woke me because she was registered for the conference. I called and called her cell phone number but she never once picked up. A few hours later Elise waltzed back in and acted surprised that he was afraid because his mommy was gone.”

The bus driver shook his head. “That mama is asking for trouble. Imagine all the things that could have happened. Some people don't have the sense God gave a donkey.”

The liaison whispered, “She's paid more attention to that good-looking Alex German than she has to her little boy. If she wanted to cat around, why didn't she leave that child at home?”

I was of the same opinion. Somehow, it didn't seem right to divulge her intention to leave her son with Alex for the school year. I was sad for her child. He must be a real problem to make her want to pawn him off on other people.

Forcing a smile, I said, “I hope everything else is on track here?”

At that moment, a large crowd emerged from the hotel to board the bus. The liaison took off, but I stayed until the bus was in gear and I could hear the tour guide welcoming her passengers.

I strolled to meet Wanda, enjoying the glorious fall morning. The dreadful summer humidity had disappeared, leaving a fresh briskness in the air. Bernie stepped out of a drugstore only feet away from me. I called his name.

Clutching a white bag, he kissed my cheek. “How's my favorite neighbor?”

“I'm fine, thanks.” I pointed to the bag. “I hope you're okay?”

“This is for Mars. He's got a queasy tummy this morning.”

“No!”
Not Mars!
“Has he seen a doctor?”

“Sophie, it's just an upset stomach. I bought him some over-the-counter meds.”

“He has to see a doctor. What if
he
has botulism poisoning, too?”

“Sophie, he'll be fine. It's nothing.”

“Bernard Frei, you take Mars to the doctor this minute. Do you understand me? I saw the misery Robert went through. He probably thought it was nothing, as well. You can't take chances with this.”

“All right,
Mother
,” he said sarcastically. “I'll make sure he sees a doctor. But I'm telling you that it's nothing.”

“Fine, let's hear that from the doctor.”

Bernie grinned at me and took off in the direction of his house. I watched him go, thinking that I would call in an hour or so to be sure Mars actually went to a doctor.

At ten o'clock, I met Wanda at the grocery store. Dressed in a beige lace skirt, cowboy boots, and a denim shirt, Wanda already had several items in a cart when I spotted her.

I bought two lattes and grabbed my own shopping cart.

“Sophie!” called Wanda. “There you are. Are you familiar with this store? I'm lookin' for white sage. Fresh white sage.”

I handed her a latte. “They have a nice selection of herbs—”

“Now, not the kind in jars. It has to be fresh.”

“Then I think it might be with the vegetables. What are you cooking? One of Natasha's favorites?”

I selected some cucumbers, a bag of lemons, and my favorite spelt sandwich bread as well.

Wanda plucked a bunch of sage out of the display. “It's not white!” She heaved a great sigh. “I'm not cookin', I'm burnin' it.”

I stared at her in confusion.

“To cleanse Natasha's house. I just hope green will work.”

“There are a lot of cleaning products—”

“Bless you, darlin'. I'm not
cleaning
the house. Heaven knows Natasha doesn't let a speck of dust settle anywhere. I'm cleansing away any negative energy left by Robert and the person who attacked her.”

If anyone had negative energy, it was Natasha. “Why do you think Robert left energy in her house?”

The corners of her mouth turned down. “Do you think he could be the one who whopped her over the head?”

“Robert? Why would he do that?”

“I don't know.” She rubbed her hands and folded her fingers as though she was praying. “But there's somethin' not right about the way he died. Who ever heard of a person dyin' of botulism? I mean, it's not like he was cannin' anything. Not a man like Robert. I have a mighty bad feelin' about the whole thing.” She paused and sucked in her upper lip. Whispering, she added, “I just have this terrible feeling that my Natasha is involved somehow.”

I supposed it was nice that they were worried about each other. I glanced around to make sure no one could overhear. How could I phrase this so she wouldn't feel like I was accusing her of anything? In a low voice, I said, “Wanda, I know you didn't bring all of your elixirs. Did you give Robert any . . . herbs when he wasn't feeling well?”

“I had dandelion with me. I told him it eases the stomach.”

Oh no! It was a good thing that Natasha was collecting the bottles. We should know within a few days.

Wanda peered into my cart. “What are you doin' with all those lemons?”

“We're having a little tea for Francie at my house this afternoon. Would you like to join us?”

“Now, that's how you treat somebody from out of town. I always feel like Natasha is hidin' me.”

We finished shopping and walked home, stopping once on the way for a vase of pink, lavender, and white flowers that would serve as a centerpiece. Francie could take it home to enjoy after the tea. If I didn't hurry, there would be no tea.

Wanda continued on to Natasha's house, and I rushed into my kitchen to get to work but paused to make one phone call to check on Mars.

Bernie answered his cell phone. “We're at the doctor's office now, Soph. I'll call you when we're done.”

I let out a deep breath, glad that Mars was in good hands.

I made the lemon tarts first so they could set. The crust rolled out beautifully and the luscious lemon filling was easy
to make. Next I tackled the scones. I was at the point of shaping the dough when the front door knocker sounded, surprising me. I looked out the peephole in the door, but couldn't see anyone. With great caution, I opened the door and found a little boy, about ten years old, standing there.

“Hi. Is Alex here?”

I looked around. Surely he was accompanied by an adult. “No. I'm sorry, but he's not.”

“Oh. Okay.” Clearly disappointed, he shuffled his feet as though unsure what to do. He lifted his chin and sniffed. “Are you baking? I smell lemons.”

“Good guess. Are you Kevin by any chance?”

“Yeah. And you're Sophie.”

I stifled a chuckle. “Why don't you come inside?”

He didn't hesitate and immediately fell to his knees so Daisy could waggle and make a fuss over him. “Oh wow. You have a cat, too.”

Mochie sniffed him politely while Kevin stroked his back.

All three of them followed me into the kitchen.

“Are you baking scones?” Kevin acted as though he was perfectly comfortable in a stranger's house.

“I am! Do you like scones?”

“Not really. They're always kind of dry. But I like the cream and the jam that comes with them. And I like cutting them. Hey, you have the mixer that my mom won't buy. Can I help?”

I stared at the little guy in amazement. With a very round head and straight hair the color of light brown sugar, he looked nothing like his mother. He must favor his father.

“Sure.”

Without being told, he marched to the sink and washed his hands.

I picked up the phone and dialed Alex's number. “Hi. There's a cute fellow here looking for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex sounded distracted.

“Kevin is here.”

“What?”

That got his attention. “He's fine. He's helping me bake.”

“I'll be there as soon as I can.” He hung up.

“I like your fireplace. When I grow up I want a fireplace in my kitchen.”

“Does your mom like to bake?”

“No. All she does is work. Are you a lawyer?”

“No.”

“You're lucky. It's very boring. My mom doesn't like me baking. She says boys don't bake.”

I was having trouble containing my laughter. Both of his parents were lawyers. “You can tell her that some of the finest chefs in the world are men.”