Tempest In The Tea Leaves Part 12

"With your aversion to exercise, you must have an amazing metabolism. You look great." Mitch's gaze roamed over my body.

"Thanks." I felt warm all over and didn't bother to cross my arms this time.

His eyes lingered on his way back up, and after an endless moment he met my eyes but didn't say a word. His smoldering look said it all.

"Let's start with what we know so far," my mother said.

The moment was ruined. I knew I couldn't have him, but that did not mean I didn't want him. And no matter what he said, I could tell he wanted me just as much.

We were so screwed.

"Right. Good idea." Mitch opened his notes. "Amanda Robbins went to see Sunny at five P.M. on the night she was murdered. Sunny read her tea leaves, and the reading revealed Ms. Robbins had twin tumors in her uterus and would be murdered by a man. Naturally, Ms. Robbins was upset. Sunny gave her some calming tea to drink later, and she left at six P.M. The coroner determined the murder took place at six thirty. Sunny called the police at seven, and I found the body around seven fifteen."

The detective took a sip of his coffee and scanned his notes before continuing. "Kip-that's the coroner-discovered Ms. Robbins had an allergic reaction to nuts that day, but that's not what killed her. She died from the tea she drank that was laced with digoxin and then hit her head when she fell. We found a set of small footprints outside of the deceased's window, but other than that there was no sign of a forced entry, leading us to believe Ms. Robbins knew the killer."

"Detective Stone brought me in for questioning shortly after that because the tea leaves laced with digoxin were mine," I interjected. "I was home at the time of the murder, trying to sort out my vision, but I don't have proof of my alibi. Yes, my feet are small, but I don't have access to digoxin. And the most important part of proving my innocence is that I don't have a motive."

I stood and paced. "I had nothing to gain from Ms. Robbins's death. If anything, her murder has hurt my business. No one wants fortunes of doom and gloom. Mayor Cromwell is up for reelection, so he wants this case solved yesterday, and Chief Spencer told Captain Walker to use any means possible. So he made me partners with Detective Stone and ordered us to work together."

"She's my a.s.sistant, not my partner," Mitch clarified.

"Oh, would you let it go already?" I huffed, stopping before him with my hands on my hips.

"Just stating the facts." He looked up at me calmly and sipped his coffee. "When you prove yourself and earn the right to be my partner, I'll say so."

"Oooh, you are pigheaded. The last thing on earth I want is to be linked to you in any way. But I will prove I am just as good as you, mark my words."

"Consider them marked. Now can we get on with this? We don't have all day."

"Sit down, Sylvia," my mother said in full lawyer mode now. "As long as they don't find the murder weapon on you-digoxin in this case-then everything else is circ.u.mstantial."

"That's good," I responded, trying not to tremble. Now more than ever I knew Mitch couldn't find out about the digoxin that had been in my cupboard. He'd never believe someone was setting me up. He'd simply close the case and throw away the key.

"If that's good, then why do you look so shaky?" the far-too-observant detective asked.

"Because it's terrifying being the only suspect without an alibi," I answered, which was true. This whole situation had me freaked out. Yes, I wanted a new life in a new home, but preferably not one behind bars.

"They might have alibis, but they all have motive. Like you said, you don't. If you're telling the truth, then you shouldn't be so skittish," Mitch pointed out, waiting a moment, probably for me to reveal what else I wasn't telling him. He was a smart man. He knew something was up.

When I didn't speak, he continued. "Next up we questioned Carolyn Hanes. She was Ms. Robbins's neighbor and friend. She even worked at the library with her. Miss Hanes reported that Ms. Robbins was worried about the library's budget, having to let people go, and she had concerns about her love life, too. She was also afraid someone was stalking her at night, which probably has to do with the footsteps outside her bedroom window."

"Either that or there was a witness we don't know about," I added, still believing that was a strong possibility.

"Maybe," Mitch said, reading his notes once more. "Miss Hanes also heard Ms. Robbins arguing with a woman on the morning of her death. She didn't hear the whole conversation, but she did hear the woman say to stay away or she would be sorry. After the woman left, Ms. Robbins went to the doctor's office, which brings me to Dr. Wilc.o.x."

"A fine young man, he is," my father boomed. "Good role model." He gave me a pointed look.

"He's not as fine as you think, Dad. After we had dinner with him, Detective Stone and I went to his office the next morning. He admitted he was in love with Ms. Robbins but that she didn't love him back and never would. He offered to marry her and take care of her because of her poor health. Amanda turned him down flat, and he was furious. Yes, he has access to digoxin, and the whole waiting room heard him threaten that she would be sorry for turning him down, but his alibi checks out. Turns out he eats dinner every night at Papas at six P.M."

"The doc also said he treated Ms. Robbins for a nut allergy on the morning of her death. That's why she went to the doctor's," Mitch added. "He said she never would have eaten nuts knowingly and that all she'd eaten that morning was a banana m.u.f.fin from Papas."

"That's right," I jumped in. "So then we went to see Callista Papas for lunch. She admitted she went to see Ms. Robbins on the morning of her death because she caters the library's book talks. They were discussing the menu, and she had Ms. Robbins try the banana m.u.f.fin. She knew the librarian had a slight nut allergy, nothing life threatening, so she purposely ground up nuts and put them in, but she didn't know Ms. Robbins had been sick. Mrs. Papas wanted the librarian to suffer a little since the woman was sleeping with her husband, Damon. She warned her to stay away, and then she left."

"Do you think this Damon character is the killer?" my mother asked.

Mitch scanned his notes. "Maybe. Mr. Papas had tried to break things off with Ms. Robbins, but she wouldn't take no for an answer. She even tried to get pregnant to frame him, but that didn't work. He had a vasectomy, but his wife doesn't have a clue. She just thinks he's sterile and despises him because he can't give her a baby. They don't believe in divorce, so she lives to make his life miserable. She might have motive but doesn't have access to digoxin, and her alibi also checks out. She runs the dinner service at Papas every night."

"Her husband sounds like a real gem. I loathe people with no ambition," my father said, and I chose to believe he wasn't including me in that comment. I had plenty of ambition, just not in the fields he wanted me to. He went on. "What does the scoundrel do while his poor wife is working her fingers to the bone?"

"He keeps the books and plays school," I chimed in.

"Excuse me?" Mom asked.

Mitch's lips twitched. "Let's just say he dabbles in extracurricular activities. Like your daughter. He prefers starring in his own movies while she enjoys climbing trees."

I ignored him, taking over the conversation. "Damon Papas tackles the books during the day, then goes to the gym during the dinner shift. Except the guys at the gym haven't seen Damon in months. Turns out he's getting his workout in other ways. I followed him from the gym to a house on a dead-end street. During my stakeout-"

Mitch snorted. "That's one word for it."

I ignored his rude interruption and kept going. "I discovered he had already moved on to another fling. He's having an affair with the kindergarten teacher, Mary Kinkaid. Amanda was in love with Damon, but he was only using her because he's miserable with his wife. Yet he would never divorce her, either."

I finished the rest of my hot cocoa, finally feeling more awake. "So Amanda tried to trap Damon, but he broke it off with her and told her about his vasectomy. She wouldn't take no for an answer and kept hoping he'd change his mind. Even though Damon might have wanted to get rid of Amanda once and for all, he doesn't have access to digoxin, either, and his alibi also checks out. He was with Mary on the night of Amanda's murder."

"Then we're at a dead end, aren't we?" Mom asked.

"Maybe not," I answered. "Mrs. Papas did say something else. She said Dr. Wilc.o.x might have an alibi, but what about his nurse? Rumor has it she has an even bigger crush on him than he did on Amanda Robbins."

"I tailed her-" Mitch began, but I cut him off.

"Really? Is that what you call it?" I blinked all innocent-like, and he ignored me just the same as I had him.

"But I didn't turn up anything out of the ordinary," Mitch continued.

"I had better luck at the salon," I said smugly. "Turns out Nurse Doolittle felt bad for the doctor, so she helped him out by bringing his dry cleaning home while he was at dinner. Except she spent an hour there on the night of the murder. Dropping off clothes doesn't take that long, so the real question is, what on earth was she doing that whole time?"

"If she was in love with him like you said, then she might have killed Ms. Robbins to get her out of the way and give herself a fighting chance with the good doctor," Mom said. "She would also have access to digoxin."

"It can't be her," I continued. "The doctor's neighbor saw her at the doctor's house at the exact time the murder happened. There's no way she could have killed Amanda. Belle said she didn't have the stomach for it, anyway, but she also said the doctor was another story. He might have an alibi, but I do have to wonder if he could have hired someone to do it for him. You know, like a hit man."

Mitch rolled his eyes at me. "This isn't some TV show, Tink."

I sat up straighter. "It could happen."

He ignored my response.

"Let's forget about the doctor for now," Mom said. "Maybe it's time you brought his nurse in for questioning, Detective? Find out exactly what she was doing inside his house."

"Now, that's a smart suggestion, ma'am," he said, and I ground my teeth. Hadn't I just suggested that very thing?

"Good boy," Mom said, and they all carried on as if I wasn't even there. "And Donald, darling, why don't you make a dinner date with Dr. Wilc.o.x?"

"Whatever for? He's obviously not the upstanding young man I thought him to be."

"No, but he can be of help in solving your daughter's case. I know you doctors have the whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing going on, but you have your ways, darling. See if you can find out what patients Dr. Wilc.o.x has who are on digoxin."

"Brilliant idea, shnook.u.ms." My father beamed.

"Not bad," the detective admitted. "I'm impressed, Mrs. Meadows."

"Don't let my appearance fool you, young man. Others have made the mistake before, hence the number of cases I've won. I'm a lot smarter than I look."

"I don't doubt that for a minute." Mitch tipped his head to the side once in salute.

My father puffed up his chest. "My wife's a real pit bull in the courtroom. I love watching her in action. In the meantime, it sounds like we all have our a.s.signments." He faced me and nailed me with a stern expression. "You try to stay out of trouble, young lady. We've got everything under control."

"Believe it or not, I'm rather smart myself, Dad." I stiffened my spine. "I've got a lead of my own I'm following up on."

"Really, now," Dad said, looking as though he were about to yawn. "Do tell."

"Well, when I was ice-skating with Sean O'Malley," I said, ignoring Detective Stone's eye roll, "I saw Carolyn Hanes drive by with the head of the Historical Society, Gladys Montgomery."

"The library is housed in an old building that Miss Montgomery has been trying to have recognized as a historical landmark for some time now," Mitch pointed out. "It's not surprising they would be together now that Ms. Robbins is gone."

"No, but what is surprising is that when Sean and I went into the library later, we saw them talking to Pendleton."

Mitch blinked. "You mean the developer who was trying to get Ms. Robbins to vote yes? I know he was pretty desperate to convince her to turn over the library. He wanted to put up a chain bookstore in its place in exchange for giving her a better-paying management position there."

"One and the same. After asking around town, I discovered Amanda was on the library's Board of Trustees and was even board president. The library's state tax revenue funding has dropped drastically over the past year, resulting in an annual shortfall. Amanda had been seeking additional support to no avail. She'd even cut programs, staff, materials purchased, and public hours, as well as doubling late fines and charging for interlibrary loans. Nothing was working, and the library was still on the verge of closing, anyway. And with the town's strict zoning laws, there isn't enough land available for commercial use." I paced, working the situation all out in my head.

"Gladys made it known to everyone that she was against the library closing and a bookstore going up in its place. Carolyn was Amanda's best friend and an employee of the library as well. You wouldn't think either one would be caught dead talking to that tyrant unless it was to tell him he could take his business proposition and hit the road, right?"

"Sounds logical to me," Mitch said.

"Wrong. I overheard the three of them talking about wanting the deal to go through but that some mysterious woman was an even harder nut to crack than the librarian had been. We just need to find the mystery woman and see how she's involved."

Mitch stared at me for a long moment and then finally said, "You done good, Tink."

I felt pride swell in my chest. Finally, some credit from someone. I had worked so hard to solve this case, but no one seemed to acknowledge my efforts.

"That's my girl," my mom said.

"A true Meadows through and through," my dad added.

All I felt was frustration as I looked at them. I was only good enough to be their daughter when things went right. But like it or not, I needed them. The sooner we solved this case, the sooner I could get on with my life.

11.

Later that day, after I was finally awake and showered, I decided getting on with my life might involve more effort on my part. The person who knew the most about this case was me, yet I hadn't even read my own tea leaves.

Nodding my head with conviction, I parted the strands of crystal beads and entered my sanctuary. Glancing around at the soft pale blue walls, a veil of calm settled over me. I closed my eyes and inhaled my aromatherapy oils, already feeling better.

I turned on some soft new age music, flicked on the light to my tropical-fish tank, and started a fire in the corner fireplace. Gathering my supplies, I sat at the table in the center of the room, surrounded by lush green plants. Glancing up at the constellations covering my ceiling, I prayed this would work and shed some insight onto the state of my future.

I took my canister of homegrown tea leaves, placed the loose tea leaves in a cup, and then set some water on to boil. Once the watered boiled and steam billowed into the air, I poured the water over the tea leaves and stirred them with a spoon as it brewed. Next, I drank the unstrained tea and thought about what exactly it was I wished to know. In my case, what my immediate future held in store. Would "getting on with my life" involve looking out my windowpane or looking out through a set of bars?

I held the cup in my left hand, swished three times in a counterclockwise motion, and then I tipped the cup upside down onto the saucer so the excess liquid could run out. Righting the cup, I pointed the handle toward myself and began to read the pattern of tea leaves.

Holding the cup level, I started at the handle and read the tea leaves in a counterclockwise direction from the top of the rim to the bottom of the cup. The first thing I saw was an anchor, which represented a lucky sign and success in business. A huge relief swept through me, although I had no idea when that success would occur. I might have to go through a lot more before that happened. I kept reading. Next I saw a heart representing love and pleasures to come, but immediately after I saw the mark of interrogation representing doubt and disappointment. And finally I saw a comet blazing through my teacup.

A sure sign of misfortune and trouble to come.

There was a loud knock on my door, as though someone had been pounding for a while. I jogged out to the foyer and looked through the peephole to find Detective Stone showered and in full detective mode.

I opened the door and looked at him curiously. "Did you forget something?"

"Yeah, you . . . partner." A smile hovered at the edge of his lips.

"Seriously?" I beamed, forgetting about my disturbing reading and deciding to see what I could come up with physically instead of psychically.

"For now. We'll see how it goes." He pointed his finger at me. "If you make me look bad, all bets are off. I'm only doing this because we need to pool our resources. This doesn't mean our working relationship is permanent. I still think you're a quack," he added with much less bite.

"That's okay because I still think you're a grump b.u.t.t. I'm just glad you finally admit I have something worth contributing. And trust me, I don't want this relationship to be permanent any more than you do."

"Looks like we have a deal, then." He held out his hand.

"Deal." I jumped up and down, gave him a hug, and then quickly stepped back. "Sorry."

He nodded once but couldn't quite hide his c.o.c.keyed smile. "If you're ready, Tink, let's go bring Nurse Doolittle in for further questioning."

I grabbed my coat and followed him out to his car. Ten minutes later, we were standing in Dr. Wilc.o.x's office, asking the receptionist if we could talk to Nurse Doolittle.

A slightly chubby, rosy-cheeked brunette with curly hair, pink polka-dot scrubs, and a puckered brow appeared, looking us both over critically. After a moment, she asked us to follow her out of the waiting room and into the nurses' station. "May I help you?" she asked.

"Well, that depends," Mitch said. "Are you going to tell me where you were the night Amanda Robbins was murdered?"

"I already told you I was home," she said, wringing her hands inside the cotton fabric of her shirt.

"Wrong. We know you were at the doc's house, delivering his dry cleaning," I chimed in, and her eyes widened for a second. Then she smoothed her shirt and looked away.

"Last time I checked it wasn't a crime to help a person out. I was simply trying to do something nice for Dr. Wilc.o.x."

"Look, we know you had a thing for the doc, and we know you wished the librarian was out of the picture so he would finally notice you." Mitch put on his serious cop-guy att.i.tude. "I think you killed her to get her out of the way. You certainly had enough motive."