Matcha Do About Murder (A Pebble Cove Teahouse Mystery Book 2) by Eryn Scott

Author:Eryn Scott [Scott, Eryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kristopherson Press
Published: 2020-04-29T22:00:00+00:00

14

“Good afternoon, Chief Clemenson,” I said, pushing aside my notes. I stood but remained behind the tea bar. “Here for some tea?” I asked, even though he’d told me how much he disliked tea the day we’d met.

He shook his head as he approached. “I saw the tea you left with Tabby yesterday.” His voice was deep, authoritative.

If the chief had been my dad, this tone of voice would’ve told me for sure I was in trouble.

Having your father die in a car accident when you’re eight leaves a girl with some dad issues. I’ve mentioned how much the chief reminded me of my father when I’d first met him. So much so, I’d immediately felt the need to gain his approval.

It had taken me two minutes into our acquaintance to realize that wasn’t going to happen. But things had been a little better between us since I’d helped bring Grandma’s killer to justice.

Clinging to that positive feeling, I said, “I just went to check on her. Neighborly …” I drifted off, seeing the man wasn’t buying it.

The old wood floors of the tearoom groaned under his large boots. I swallowed the rest of my excuses.

“I can see through your friendly visit even if she can’t.” His words came shoved through gritted teeth. He stopped a couple of yards away from me and folded his arms over his chest.

I shuffled my feet behind the bar, disappointed. I thought the chief’s opinion of me had changed. I thought he’d finally be able to see me as a respectful member of the town instead of a meddling newcomer. The shadows falling on his face told me otherwise.

“Stay away from Tabitha, Miss Woodmere,” he bit out the last few words and left.

I shivered, even though the mercury in the thermometer on the deck was closing in on ninety.

Suddenly the theories I’d placed on the highest shelf in my mind, because they were too hard to believe, came tumbling down. That was definitely the behavior of a scared man, a threatened man. I may have used them as inflammatory theories yesterday to upset the ghost chief, but now they felt all too real. Chief Clemenson very well could be scared Tabitha had killed Murray and didn’t want me to find out. Or he could’ve helped her and didn’t want me to uncover his crime.

What if he had been at Jolene’s tea shop for another reason? My fingers tapped out an anxious rhythm on my leg as I thought this through. How could I prove he was there before Murray died, though? It had been crowded. It was feasible that he could’ve wound his way through the crowd and put something into the drinks with no one noticing.

I searched my memory, trying to recall if I’d noticed the chief inside that day. My mind stopped on a picture of me and the Rickster chatting as I’d entered. Maybe he’d remember if the chief had been there.

After waiting around the tearoom for another hour without a customer, I closed early.

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