Spanish Dagger by Susan Wittig Albert

Author:Susan Wittig Albert [Albert, Susan Wittig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2015-10-14T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

CHINA BAYLES’ TEXAS TARRAGON VINEGAR

Texas tarragon is another name for Mexican mint marigold ( Tagetes lucida), which Southern gardeners like to grow as a fragrant, anise-scented substitute for tarragon.

Fill a quart jar half full of fresh Mexican mint marigold leaves, washed, drip-dried, and bruised with the back of a spoon. Cover with apple cider vinegar, add a lid, and let set in a dark place for several weeks, until the flavor has developed to suit you. Strain and rebottle. Add to mayonnaise, or mix with honey, mustard, and crushed garlic for a tangy vinaigrette.

Cass had already come in and was doing her morning thing in the kitchen of the tearoom, banging pots and pans and whistling. Missy had opened the Crystal Cave and was dusting Ruby’s shelves while she listened to whale songs. And Carole Gaye was waiting for me when I unlocked the door to Thyme and Seasons and turned on the lights.

“How is she?” she asked worriedly. “How’s Ruby? How did she take the news about Colin?”

“It was hard, but she’ll survive.” I propped the door open with a ceramic frog filled with aloe plants. As the morning sunlight flooded in, I tied my khaki Thyme and Seasons apron over my jeans and pulled the cash drawer from its hiding place under the counter.

“But her mother isn’t well at all. Looks like Ruby will have to be in Fredericksburg for a few more days.” I put the drawer into the cash register and adjusted the tape.

While I was doing this, Missy came in through the door that connects Ruby’s shop to mine. I hated to alarm either of them by telling them what had happened at Sonora that morning, but they’d probably hear about it, one way or another. I got the broom, and while I gave the floor its morning sweeping, I told the story, as briefly and with as little gore as possible.

Missy stared at me, wide-eyed. “Ohmigod,” she whispered, when I’d finished. “What an awful thing, China!”

“Do you have any reason to think the two killings are related?” Carole asked anxiously.

“The police may be working on that theory,” I said evasively, hanging up the broom. “But if you don’t mind, I would really like to forget about it. Sheila’s in charge, and I’ve done what I can. It’s all up to the cops now.”

The bell over Ruby’s shop door tinkled, and Missy went back to tend her customer. I picked up my feather duster and began to flick dust off the book rack. “Anyway, there’s plenty to keep us busy,” I went on. “How’s the workshop prep coming along? Do you need any help? Are we all set for tomorrow?”

“I think we’re fine,” Carole said with an understanding glance, and did her part to change the subject. “I’m enjoying your guesthouse, China. I had a wonderful night’s sleep.” She glanced around.

“And this morning, I’ve been wandering through your gardens— I love them. I love what you’ve done with your shop, too. It feels so wonderfully peaceful here.

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