The Diva Serves High Tea (23 page)

I phoned Wolf. For once he actually answered his phone. “Meet me at The Parlour.”

I beat a hasty exit past the Realtor, and waited for Wolf outside The Parlour. I started talking as soon as he showed up. “I think Martha Carter knew Robert before he came here. It's only a guess but”—I held out the newspaper clipping to him—“you'll note the date? It was about six months before he moved here.”

Wolf sounded very kind, like he was speaking to a child. “That doesn't prove anything. Maybe he thought a town that could support a tea parlor was a town that would also support antiques stores.”

“True. Ordinarily I would agree. But he had been here to visit numerous times. He and his wife had planned to open a store here. So why this article? What interested him?” I smacked my finger on the photo of Martha.

“Sophie, I'm going to indulge you this time, okay? But I have police work to do. I can't be running over every time you get a crazy notion. This is nothing but wild speculation. I need facts.”

“Then let's just act like this is my treat.” I opened the door and led the way inside.

I selected a cozy spot where we could talk privately with Martha.

Wolf sighed. “You do remember that we're not dating? Soph, I can't be seen having tea or lunch or hanging out with you like this.”

“This is business, Wolf. What if I'm right? Do you want her to stab me, too?”

“I hardly think that will happen over a newspaper clipping, nor would it happen here, in public. Not in front of other people, in her place of business. He gestured around
the room, forced a smile, and waved to a woman who was leaning back so far to watch us that she fell out of her chair. “Oh no. Sophie, I'm really sorry but I can't do this.”

Wolf rose and walked out.

I could tell from the heat in my face that I was flushing with embarrassment. That's the trouble with dating a cop and breaking up. They always think you're trying to get things going with them again. Not that I was totally unsympathetic. I knew his wife wouldn't understand. I pulled out my phone and called Nina. When Callie came to the table, I ordered for both of us.

Nina arrived in ten minutes. Breathless, she said, “Sorry it took so long. I had to drop Peanut off at the doggy daycare. He's too young to stay home alone. What's up?”

“I guess I know who my friends are.” I told her what happened with Wolf.

When Callie brought our tea and delicious treats, I said, “Would you please ask Martha to join us for a few minutes?”

Callie looked from me to Nina and back. “Is something wrong? This is Shelley bone china. It's very popular. Would you rather drink out of a different pattern?”

The teal rims were laced with gold. Pears, grapes, and plums on a white background graced the middles of the teacups.

“They're lovely. I just wanted to talk to Martha.”

“All right.” Callie appeared dubious.

Martha arrived more quickly than I expected. “It's so kind of you to come in again. As you can see, business is slowly beginning to pick up.”

I handed her the newspaper clipping.

She smiled. “Gee, this seems like a long time ago but it was only nine months! I was so grateful for coverage in the local newspaper. Where did you find this?”

“At Robert's house.”

The smile faded, and she swallowed hard. Her voice sounded hollow and forced. “How nice of him to keep it.”

“It was printed months before he moved here.” I took a chance. “You knew him, didn't you?”

Martha wouldn't have looked more miserable if I had knocked over her china display. “When Callie told me about Hunter, I knew it was just a matter of time.”

Martha sat down with us and spoke in a soft voice. “Remember how I told you that I went to stay with my great-aunt Antonella in Italy? My parents sent me there because my fiancé had broken off our engagement. I was devastated. That doesn't begin to cover it. I was a wreck. All of my plans, my dreams, the life I had envisioned, it was all over. In a split second. Just like that. Robert came from a well-to-do family and my parents were thrilled that I was marrying up. The wedding plans had to be canceled. The engagement gifts had to be returned. And all I could do was cry.”

She stopped talking and sat there in her own little world, thinking.

“And then,” I prompted.

“And two days later, Rosie disappeared. The police paid us a visit but, of course, I had been home with my parents. And I had never met Rosie. I was such a mess. That was why my parents shipped me off to my great-aunt. They thought I would recover from my broken heart in Italy.”

“Did you keep in touch with Robert?”

She seemed surprised. “No! I never saw him again until the day he walked into The Parlour.”

“Why didn't you tell anyone?” I asked.

She placed her palms on her cheeks. “I couldn't bear the whole ugly thing about Rosie resurfacing. It was such a nightmare. You can't imagine. Everyone was out looking for her. That poor girl. And the accusations against Robert. I thought that was over. It was so long ago. I've been so many places and done so many things. Well, who would ever expect it to rear its ugly head again? And then Robert died, and I thought,
That's the end
.
Finally, that's the end
.”

“You never told your husband.” Nina didn't ask. It was an affirmative statement.

Martha shook her head. “No. I didn't want him to know I had been engaged before. Even my parents and my great-aunt advised against that. We buried it. That was what
people did then. They moved on and put the horrible memories behind them.”

“Do you think Robert killed Rosie?” I asked.

“I doubt it. He'd broken off
our
engagement. He had no reason to murder her.”

“Who did?” asked Nina.

Martha's eyes jumped wide in surprise. “I haven't a clue. I never knew the girl.”

She rose and forced a wan smile. “If you'll excuse me, I believe Callie needs a hand.

“I didn't see that coming.” Nina dug in. “I love these pumpkin scones with the bourbon cream.”

I sat back, sipped my Golden Monkey black tea, and spoke softly lest anyone overhear. “Could Martha have murdered Rosie? Did Robert write those little poems intending to torment Martha? Maybe that was why he saved her picture and moved here.”

Nina swallowed and nodded. “But why did she murder Elise?”

Good question. “I might have guessed jealousy, but Elise was bragging to Martha about Alex being her new boyfriend.”

I was a little bit disappointed when we walked home. Even though I had been correct, the relationship between Martha and Robert hadn't led anywhere. We didn't know more now than we had in the morning.

I tidied up the house and did some laundry, still thinking about Robert and Rosie. I was in the kitchen folding towels when Mars stopped by.

He opened the kitchen door and asked, “Who wants to go for a run?”

We smiled like proud parents when Daisy leaped to her feet. Her tail wagging, she followed Mars to her harness, waited impatiently while he put it on her, and then Daisy led the way out the kitchen door. She would miss him when he was gone again.

I watched the two of them jog down the street, noting that the streetlights would be on soon. I was sweeping the
kitchen floor and thinking about Martha when the phone rang.

Alex sounded as though he was in a panic. “Sophie, is Kevin with you?”

“No. Has he run off again?”

“We can't find him anywhere.”

“I can come help you look,” I offered.

“I'd rather you stayed home. He's likely to go to your place.”

I promised I would call if Kevin showed up.

Not five minutes later, I heard something at the door. I looked out the peephole but couldn't see anyone. It had to be Kevin.

I was opening the door when someone on the other side pushed it with force. A tall man in a gray sweatshirt with a hood slammed the door behind him. The light glinted off a knife in his hand.

Dear Natasha,

I always look forward to hearing your annual “in” color predictions. I base my wardrobe around them! What color should I be looking for next year?

—Always Stylish in Rust, Michigan

Dear Always Stylish,

There's no question about it. We fashionable types will be gravitating to rust red next year. It's as fabulous in clothes as it is on walls. And think how great it will look with all the gray accents we already have!

—Natasha

It was Martha's husband, Max! My heart pounded in my ears. Odd thoughts ran through my head as I backed up. Mars had been correct when he told me the Taser would not be helpful if it was in a drawer. Natasha was right about how tall he was. He must have followed Callie and Natasha,
and killed Elise. He was mad. Stark raving mad. I backed into the kitchen, praying I might find something to use to defend myself.

In the back of my house, something crashed.

“What's that?” he growled.

I had no idea. “Cat.”
Please let it be Mars!

Another noise from the back. But this time I was ready. In the brief seconds that Max was distracted I grabbed a bottle of wine, rushed at him and crashed it on his forehead. The glass shattered and rained on the floor, falling into the puddle of white wine. Blood ran down his face in streams.

I backed out of his reach and to the side, toward my kitchen knives. He was still standing, if wobbling and a bit dazed. I wondered if I had only succeeded in angering him.

And then, out of nowhere, I heard, “Aaaaragh!”

Kevin raced at Max from behind, gripping Bernie's halberd. He lodged the spear end squarely in Max's right buttock. “Kowabunga!”

Kevin ran to me. I pulled him close and backed toward the kitchen door. We had to get out.

And then Max fell flat on his face into the shards of glass and the little lake of wine. His blood tinged it red in spots.

“Is he unconscious?” asked Kevin.

“Stay right where you are.” I edged toward Max and kicked the knife away from his hand.

Of course, Kevin hadn't listened to me. He stood next to me, gazing at the halberd handle that stuck up in the air. He said slowly, “That's gotta hurt.”

I grabbed the phone and dialed 911.

“Sophie, in the movies the bad guys always wake up.”

He was right. I handed him the telephone and scurried to a drawer where I kept extension cords.

Working fast in case Max came around, I pulled his wrists together across his back and tied them tight.

Meanwhile, Kevin asked me my address. He repeated it into the phone and said, “We got him out cold on the floor, and he's a big sucker. Sophie, she wants to know if he's breathing.”

“Oh, yeah. But they better send an ambulance.”

“He needs an ambulance 'cause I speared him.”

About that time, Mars walked in with Daisy. “What happened here? I was only gone twenty minutes.”

Was that all? It felt like an eternity.

Kevin handed me the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”

This was one time I didn't mind staying on the phone until the officers arrived. Adrenaline still coursed through my veins. Mars was high-fiving with Kevin.

When Wong walked into my house, I handed the phone to Mars. “Call Alex and let him know Kevin is with us and safe. And keep an eye on him. He likes to wander.”

“I don't think he's going anywhere. He just said
this is way better than TV
.”

“Is Bernie here?” asked Wong.

“No.”

“Isn't that his antique weapon?”

I started to laugh. “I guess it is.”

“Oh no,” Mars groaned. “She's getting giddy.”

I was a little. Now that it was over.

Kevin proudly proclaimed, “It was in the den. I saw it when I was here before.”

“How did you get into the house?” I asked.

“I saw him hide after he knocked. Normal people don't do that. Then he pushed his way in. So I ran around to the sunroom door and broke a window. Sorry about that.”

I hugged him. “I'm so glad you did.”

Wong walked away, and I asked Kevin, “What were you doing here?”

“They were all arguing. My mom's parents said I would never see my dad again.” Tears welled in his eyes.

“Oh, honey. They're upset because they lost their daughter. I'm sure they didn't mean that.”

“I haven't seen him since he was arrested,” Kevin said.

“I might be wrong, but I have a strong hunch you're going to see him very, very soon.”

“Promise?”

I could hear people yelling Kevin's name outside. I
spied Wong and asked if she needed a statement from Kevin before he went home.

She sat down with him at the kitchen table while the EMTs discussed the best way of transporting Max without removing the halberd. Apparently, there was some fear that taking it out might spur bleeding and it was best done in a hospital.

When Wong was finished, I walked Kevin outside. Four worried grandparents descended upon him. Alex grabbed me in a big bear hug.

“I think they might release Rosey,” I whispered. “I'll be very surprised if Max isn't the one who murdered Elise.”

Alex gazed at Kevin. “Maybe the knowledge that he helped take down his mom's killer will give him some closure later in life.”

Nina, Francie, Wanda, Natasha, and Harvey crowded around us. I didn't have time to go into all the details.

A car screeched to a halt on the street. Martha jumped out and ran to us. “Max. Is he all right? I got a call . . .”

“Sophie!” called Wong.

“Come with me, Martha,” I said.

She pulled a shawl tight around her shoulders and walked with me. They had Max on a gurney, ready to load him into the ambulance.

“Max? Honey, can you hear me?”

For the first time, Max stirred. “Martha?” He slurred her name.

I was just glad he didn't say
Rosie
.

“Oh, Max, what have you done?”

“For you, Martha. For you.” His words were faint and imprecise but the meaning was certainly clear.

They wheeled him away, and Martha turned to me. “I don't know what to say other than how very sorry I am.” She tented her hands and held them over her nose and mouth as she walked out with her head bowed.

Martha followed the ambulance to the hospital. My friends poured into my house, Kevin left with his grandparents, and I got down on my knees to pick up the broken glass
on my kitchen floor. Wanda revved up the steam mop to clean up the blood and wine. We hit the broken glass in the sunroom next, and Bernie taped a flattened cardboard box over the hole. With everyone pitching in, we were done faster than I could have imagined.

They peppered me with questions but all I wanted was a cup of tea.

Half an hour later, we all sat around the fire in my kitchen, while I sipped the strongest black tea I had and told them what a hero little Kevin was.

Natasha and Wanda were horrified and so grateful that Natasha had survived Max's attack on her.

Everyone was thrilled that he was off the streets, and we could go back to walking freely in our beloved community. And Bernie couldn't wait to tell his mom that the halberd had actually been used.

I slept better that night than I had in a long time. Things would finally start going back to normal. After breakfast, Nina, Francie, Daisy, Duke, Peanut, and I walked over to Robert's house to help with the endless packing so Velma could finally put the place on the market.

Nina and I tackled the high kitchen shelves so that Velma and Francie wouldn't have to climb ladders. Daisy and Duke stretched out in the hallway. Energetic little Peanut ran around them and tried to engage them in play by pulling on their ears and yipping at them.

“So let me understand this.” Velma placed a toaster into a box. “Martha's husband, Max, was some kind of serial attacker?”

“First he went after Natasha but she got away from him, probably because Sophie arrived.” Nina wrapped an empty sugar bowl in newspaper. “Then he tried following Callie but she had the luck to run into Sophie and Mars. It looks like Elise was his only victim.”

“But why?” asked Francie.

I gazed down at her. “He didn't seem to like Callie and thought she wasn't a good employee. But that's hardly reason to attack her. And I don't think Natasha even knows him.”

“Maybe he thought they were threats to Martha?” Velma speculated. “Maybe he thought Martha should have a TV show like Natasha?”

“What about me?” I asked. “Or Elise?”

“Maybe he's just a sicko who has an issue with women,” said Nina. “He didn't go after any men, probably because he knew they could overpower him.”

As Nina spoke, I wondered if it was Max who had been down by the river with Natasha. Maybe he went there to throw the knife in the water. He might have reported Natasha and me to throw suspicion on us instead. But I felt as though something was wrong with that scenario.

Nina chattered on about Max and how clever Kevin had been.

I stood on the counter and handed her items from the top shelf. With a start, I realized what was bothering me.
It was the wrong night!
Natasha had dumped Wanda's potion containers
before
Elise died. It still could have been Max who saw her at the river and reported her, but it couldn't have been Natasha who threw the knife in the water because she was there before Elise was murdered.

“Imagine how Martha must feel today. I don't think I would have the courage to show my face in town,” said Francie.

Velma nodded, examining the backside of a platter. “At least there's
something
they're not trying to blame on poor old Robert.”

I stopped working and stared down at the top of her perfectly styled hair. “I thought you had come to terms with that, Velma. Are you saying you don't believe Callie or Hunter?”

“I don't know what to think. All we know is what they said, and they could both be lying. And, I'd like to point out that just as I predicted, they now have Elise's killer but I don't see any cops nosing around here looking for Robert's murderer.”

“But what about the Rosie notes?” Nina signaled me to hand her more items. “Don't they substantiate the fact that Robert killed Rosie?”

“Not if Hunter, Eddie, whoever he is, wrote them.” Velma closed a drawer. “There's no concrete evidence.”

They didn't know about Martha's story yet. Nina looked up at me, her eyebrows raised. When I didn't say anything, she nudged my ankle.

“Well I'm telling them if you're not!” Nina said.

In a way, I hated for Martha's story to get around town. She had enough troubles with Max. On the other hand, her story did back up what Hunter had told us, so it was only fair for Velma to know. “Go ahead,” I said.

I shuffled over to the next cabinet and opened it while Nina relayed the sad story about Martha's broken engagement.

“But that doesn't prove anything, either!” Velma threw her hands in the air. “It makes me sad for Martha, but goodness, she wasn't there. She doesn't know any more than Wanda did. It could have been Hunter who killed Rosie. Or her own father. Or maybe Rosie had another boyfriend who was jealous.”

Francie shrugged. “Velma, I'm not sure there will ever be enough proof for you.”

“That day when Callie told us about Robert murdering Livy, I could hardly take it,” Velma said. “The mere thought was just unbearable. But the next morning I realized that she lies. She makes up stories to entertain people. Who marries two thoroughly odious men and has to run away from them?”

“She didn't make up that scar,” I noted.

“Who knows where she got that? It could have been in a car accident for all we know. Same with the picture. Maybe she worked for Robert. It doesn't mean anything more than that. I think she's had a hard life and she invents stories to make it more interesting. And then she went and got Hunter involved in her nonsense.”

Francie regarded her friend with sadness. I gathered Francie didn't agree with Velma's take on things.

“I'm starving.” Nina finished filling up a box. “How about we take a lunch break?”

“We could eat out on the patio in the back.” Francie looked out the window in the back door. “It's such a nice day with the sun shining and that blue sky. Won't be long before it's too cold to eat outside.”

I climbed down and peered into the garden. “Nina, if you bring us some lunch, I'll rake up the leaves. It's a mess back there.”

“Would you, dear?” Velma gazed around. “I think I saw some of those leaf bags. Here they are!”

The four of us ventured outside. Daisy, Duke, and Peanut seemed happy to have a new place to sniff around. Francie and Velma settled at the table, and Nina left to buy lunch.

Francie turned her face up to the sun. “I never imagined cleaning out a house would take so long. You should have just marked prices on everything and had a garage sale right in the house. That way everyone would have had to cart their stuff off themselves.”

I found a rake in a little storage corner and filled two bags quickly. The patio was small. I would be done in no time. I pulled the rake along the edge of the brick wall nearest the house. Something glinted in the sunlight. I peered closer and moved leaves aside until I saw it again.