A Simple Country Deception by Blythe Baker

Author:Blythe Baker [Baker, Blythe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-30T06:00:00+00:00

9

As suspected, I regretted not taking the chance to speak to Walter further about Sam and his death while at the funeral. Even though I was fully aware that he likely wouldn’t have been in any sort of mood to have discussed it in the first place, I realized it still would have saved me a great deal of trouble.

I spent the next week looking for a chance to speak with him again. It certainly did not help that I had no idea how to contact him, other than to look him up in the phone book and hope he wouldn’t be confused by my call.

“It would certainly be much easier if I were to just happen across him,” I said as I sat at the small, round table in the corner of Irene’s teahouse. She’d forbidden me from working for at least a fortnight after Sam’s death, but seemed to have no qualms with me coming over and spending the afternoons with her after I’d closed up the haberdashery. “It wouldn’t be chance, of course. I wish I knew more about him.”

“I wish I did, too,” Irene said, topping off my cup of tea for the third time that hour. “I don’t think the man has been able to hold a job for more than a few months at a time, however. Last I knew, he was ferrying food for Mr. Diggory to some of the farms outside of town, but that was nearly six months ago…”

I sipped the tea, the warmth enough to keep the chill of the cold September afternoon at bay. “And you don’t suppose he would still be working there, do you?” I asked.

Irene shook her head. “I can’t imagine so, no. I suppose you could go and ask Mr. Diggory, see if he knows where Walter happened to go after Mr. Diggory surely fired him.”

I frowned. “I don’t know if he would want to tell me, especially if they left off on such poor terms.”

The bell chimed above the door, and Irene glanced over her shoulder at the new customers streaming in. “I’ll be back,” she said, and then wound her way through the tables to the couple rubbing their hands together gratefully in the warmth of the teashop.

As the man removed his hat, I realized it was, in fact, Mr. Diggory.

I sat up a little straighter. What luck!

“Good afternoon, Mr. Diggory,” Irene said. “Please find a seat wherever you’d like, and I’ll be right out with the specials for the day.”

“Thank you very much, Irene, but I cannot stay,” Mr. Diggory said. “I was just in town on an errand for our cook, but it’s so blasted cold out there, I thought my fingers might freeze.”

“Well, I’d be happy to make you a quick cup to warm you up,” Irene said.

She turned and gave me a rather pointed look.

“In the meantime, I’m certain that Mrs. Lightholder would love to keep you company,” she said, smiling.

Mr. Diggory looked up as I rose from my seat.

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