Murder and Mint Tea [Book 1 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries] Read online

I laughed. “Breaking my leg wasn't my first choice."

  He slouched on a chair and told me some stories about the storm. The tales made me laugh.

  The arrival of Edward Potter, pastor of St. Stephens, ended Pete's visit. The small, dapper man's ringing tenor voice dripped with sympathy and gossip. While he regaled me with stories I would rather not have heard, Paul and Maria Prescott arrived. I eyed the thermos in Maria's hand and sighed in anticipation. One of my wishes had come true.

  "Mrs. Miller, I was so sorry you have the accident and I am not here to give you the help. When Paul and I come home last night Mrs. Sarah tell us you have the misfortune. I have brought the tea."

  Edward coughed. I made the introductions without mentioning Paul and Maria's last name. Edward's face showed a hint of disapproval. He stared at the gold hoop dangling from Paul's ear. Edward kissed my cheek. “Katherine, I'll keep you in my prayers."

  Would his prayers be for my healing of about my choice of friends? I hadn't told Edward that Paul owns the most successful antique store in town or that Prescott Reproductions is on the way to success. Maria designs jewelry and has a growing reputation in her field.

  Paul and I had met the year I converted the house. He'd come to evaluate the antiques I'd decided to sell. We had become friends. Several years later on a trip to Spain he'd met Maria. After their marriage he'd purchased the house next-door.

  Maria opened the thermos. Some people crave caffeine. My choice is mint tea. Like a starving woman I reached for the cup, breathed in the aroma and sipped. The hint of chamomile made me smile. “Heavenly. Thank you. How was your trip?"

  "We have the beautiful time. My madre and padre are happy to have us home again. Paul find many beautiful things for the shop. My niece, Bianca, want to live with us so she can go to school. Paul and I think on this.” She sat in the chare beside the bed.

  Paul leaned against the doorframe. His shoulder length blond hair had been pulled into a club at his nape. “I hear you nabbed the neighborhood thieves."

  I grinned. “With help from the police."

  "Good show. Any hope they'll recover the loot?"

  "Call Pete. He should know."

  The Prescott's house had been the scene of the first robbery. A gold and emerald ring Maria had designed for a national juried show had been taken.

  Maria shook her head. “I do not know how you could let the thieving men in your house. I would scream and run."

  "I didn't think. Just acted."

  Paul crossed the room. “Now, why don't I believe that? Have you ever acted impulsively?” He shook his head. “Bet you dismissed any options before you acted."

  He stood with his hands on Maria's shoulders. She looked up at him and the love in her eyes made me sigh. Her dark coloring and near perfect features complimented his rugged handsomeness.

  Maria patted my hand. “I should never have go away. First the bad man hit you. Then you fall in the snow. What if no one find you?"

  "I'd be part of an ice floe on the river.” Her frown said she didn't understand and explaining the town's snow removal system was beyond me. “I'm fine, child."

  "When you come home I will care for you. My house takes just one hand."

  "We'll see.” I looked up in time to catch Paul's not. “When do you start remodeling?"

  "Late summer. Once they spring you and you're on your feet, stop by the ship and check out your investment."

  Three years ago when Paul started the reproduction workshop he needed a backer. I invested some of my savings. “I trust you."

  He laughed. “Could get you in trouble."

  "Maria would never let you cheat me."

  "Few people could.” Andrew stepped into the room. “Her trusting air is an act."

  "Is that a nice way to speak to your mother?"

  He stood with his hands clasped behind his back like the presenting doctor for Grand Rounds. “Paul, Maria, good to see you.” He acknowledged their greetings with a nod and walked to the bed. “Can't stay long or I'll be late for office hours. Ruth will drop by this evening. Are you sure you won't consider Hudson House for a few weeks?"

  "Never.” Though the local nursing home was exclusive and expensive I wanted my own apartment and bed.

  Paul clocked his heels and saluted me. Maria kissed my cheek. “Not to worry, Dr. Andrew. When your madre come home I will tend her."

  Andrew sat on the chair Maria had vacated. “Mom, I'm serious. If not Hudson House, let me hire a nurse."

  "There's no need. With Ruth's, Sarah's and Maria's help I'll manage very well."

  "You are the most stubborn woman in existence.” He patted my hand. “I've found a tenant for your apartment. Then I won't have to worry about you being in the house alone. She's a friend of Ted. Divorced with two children.” He smiled. “Rachel's a lovely woman. They'll move in the end of the month."

  Though I preferred to select my own tenants, I decided to let him win this round. “Rachel what?"

  "Rodgers. Ted sent her to me for some therapy sessions. Her divorce was messy. She even lost custody of her children. Ted helped her regain custody. She needs support. You'll be good for her."

  Something about the way he said her name bothered me. For the past year I've noticed an inner restlessness about him. He seems discontent and to be searching for illusive answers. I sighed.

  He pulled a paper from his briefcase. “Here's the lease. Ted drew it up. Rachel has signed."

  I found a pen but first read the brief document. “This is different from the one the realtor provides."

  "Simpler. Ted said you and Rachel would be protected."

  "The terms favor the tenant.” I scratched out several of the terms. “Tell Ted to have this retyped and then I'll sign."

  "Mom.” Andrew looked at what I wrote. “This is hardly fair to Rachel."

  Something in his voice raised a flood of questions. Before I had a chance to ask my son what was happening, the physical therapist arrived. Andrew left.

  For forty-five minutes I embarked on an exhausting attempt to master the extra set of legs. I returned to bed and slept until the nurse woke me for dinner.

  Shortly after the trays were collected Ruth arrived. “Mother Miller, you look so much better."

  "But bored."

  She smiled. “Andrea's in the hall near the elevators. Let me find a wheel chair and take you to her."

  "I'll use the crutches. Follow with the chair in case I falter.” I slid to the edge of the bed and positioned the crutches. I noticed the concern on her face. “I should be fine."

  "Of course you will be. I think you can master anything you try."

  "Thank you."

  My daughter-in-law isn't beautiful but she knows how to dress. She keeps her dark brown hair cut in a style that's perfect for her narrow face. Though she graduated from college with honors and could have had a brilliant career, she's chosen to serve as Andrew's handmaiden. Even when his ideas clash with hers, she doesn't disagree in public.

  "Ready.” Ruth appeared at the door with a wheelchair.

  Slowly at first and then with greater confidence, I walked toward the cluster of chairs near the elevators. A drop of perspiration slid down my back. Another made a path down my nose. One hundred steps. Fifty more. Then ten. The trip seemed longer than my usual morning walk.

  "Grandma.” Andrea bounced from a chair and dashed toward me. Her dark brown hair had recently been cut and curled around her face. “Crutches, how neat. When you don't need them could they be mine?” Hazel eyes like mine and Andrew's sparkled with excitement.

  After I eased into the wheelchair Ruth lifted the leg rest to support the case. “Why would you want them?"

  "To put them in a dance."

  "Only if you promise I'll be in the audience."

  "Sure.” She kissed my cheek. “Can I write my name on your cast?"

  "I'd love that. You're the first to ask. Guess my friends think I'm too old for cast decoration."

  "Not you. They're the old
ones. When you come home I'll stay and be your nurse. Dad thinks you need one."

  "What about school?"

  She wrinkled her nose. “Guess I can't then."

  "Tell me what you've been doing?"

  Those words released a spate of stories. To each I responded in the proper manner. When Andrea ran out of stories Ruth pushed me back to my room. She held the wheelchair while I transferred to the bed.

  "Are you sure you can manage when you come home?” she asked. “You know I'll be glad to help unless I'm tied up with Andrea's schedule."

  "I'll be fine."

  "Andrew blames himself for the accident."

  "If anyone's to blame it's his fool mother. If I'd waited twenty minutes the street would have been scraped on both sides.” My sigh was part exasperation and part worry. “He's too serious."

  She nodded. “It's a phase."

  Ruth usually read Andrew like an expert but this time she was wrong.

  "He'd feel better if he could do something. He loves you."

  "I know that.” Her concern for my son brought a ripple of guilt. My stubborn pride loosened its grip. “Why don't you suggest he hire a woman to come every morning for a few hours? Not a nurse, mind you. Just someone to help me dress and do some light cleaning.” My sense of the ridiculous rose. “Have him get me a portable toilet."

  Ruth giggled. In that instant she looked no older than her daughter. “That's wonderful. I can't wait to see his face when I tell him about the commode."

  My laughter joined hers. “I tried to make the suggestion to him but couldn't. He has a view of me I don't deserve. He'd be embarrassed to think his mother has normal human functions."

  She patted my hand. “He does tend to put you on a pedestal. I'd better leave and get Andrea home."

  After she left I turned on the television. The program, one of the crime shows I always watch, barely registered. My thoughts centered on my son and some nameless concern for him.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 2

  ~

  Selecting The Cuttings

  -

  On Friday morning Dr. Beemish signed me out. One of the nurses presented me with a packet of discharge papers including one on cast care. When Ruth arrived to drive me home I was dressed and waiting to make an escape.

  The sight brought tears to my eyes. The “Painted Lady” is ivory with shades of coral trim. I'd read about the colorful Victorian houses. Six years ago I'd decided on the color scheme. The house went from gray and drab to beautiful. People often stop to admire.

  Paul hurried down the walk. “Welcome home.” He lifted me from the car.

  "Put me down. I can walk."

  "Like a snail. There are a lot of stairs. Lunch break's just an hour."

  "You win."

  Robespierre crouched at the top of the steps. The usually silent cat chirruped. When Paul lowered me to the window seat Robespierre jumped up and rubbed against my face and arms. His fur tickled my nose. “I missed you, too.” I turned to Paul. “Did he eat?"

  "Twice a day.” Paul kissed my cheek. “Got to hustle to Sarah's. The rug rats are mine."

  "Brave man. Thanks for the cat care."

  "No prob. Robes and I are buddies.” He paused at the door. “I'm out of here. The ladies want to plan your life."

  Maria arrived and pushed him to the stairs. “Hurry. I have the lunch ready. Mrs. Sarah need to try the dish. My madre gave me the receipt."

  Over lunch Maria, Sarah and Ruth set up a schedule of visits and meals. After the dishes were in the washer, Ruth and Maria left. Maria had Paul's lunch and she would stay with the children while Sarah and I visited.

  Maria adores children. She draws them the way a siren entices sailors, but to fun, not disaster. She's had several miscarriages. Though she seldom talks about those losses I know she'd disappointed not to have a child.

  Tiredness crept over me. I used the crutches and walked to the bedroom. Sarah followed. Her dishwater blonde hair had been permed into tight curls. “Wash and wear hair,” she always said. “Bed?"

  Though I hated to admit to a weakness, exhaustion threatened to turn my bones to jelly. I halted in the doorway. “What happened here?"

  "Andrew. Ruth said your single request multiplied."

  "I can see that."

  When the house had been converted I sold the large antique bed my husband and I had shared. I kept a pair of sleigh beds from the guest room. One had been dismantled and an electric hospital bed stood in its place. Though I understood Andrew's reasoning I wished there had been no exchange. My body knows every contour of my mattress. For six days I'd dreamed of a good night's rest. The sight of the commode drew a chuckle. Ruth had found the courage I lacked.

  "The boys will bring your dinner. Give them a list of what you need from the store.” Sarah supported my leg while I got into bed. “One of them will be on duty every evening until you graduate to a cane."

  "Tell Jamal I'll bake him a chocolate cake. Larry will have a pan of fudge brownies."

  "They'll love that.” The grin on her face said she would claim her share of the sweets, something she didn't need. “When do your new tenants move in? I told a friend's daughter to call but the realtor said the apartment had been rented."

  "At the end of the month."

  "What's she like?"

  "I haven't met her. She's Ted's friend."

  Sarah arched an eyebrow. “A close one?"

  "Don't know. She's divorced and has two children. Andrew said she's lovely."

  "She must be gorgeous. He tends to see the world in shades of brown.” She put on her coat. “I'll let you rest."

  When the door closed I drifted to sleep. After a short nap I planned to practice walking. Being dependent on others is a drag.

  * * * *

  March had blustered for most of the month and now crept away in silence. Anticipation for a glimpse of spring and a desire for a peek at the woman my son had called lovely coiled like the tightly curled leaves of the maple tree in the front yard. Crocuses bloomed. A pair of robins gathered nesting material. They carried streamers of dried grass to the tree.

  Robespierre curled on my lap with his head against the window. His purrs belied muscles poised to pounce. I poured the last of the mint tea from the breakfast Maria had prepared. With the addition of a cast boot I'd given Bessie Greene, the woman Andrew had hired, the weekend off. Maria had questioned me about the tenants due to arrive today but I had no answers. Andrew had reassured me when I probed but he'd given me no more than the basics I already knew.

  Since six AM, I'd studied the sullen sky. Dark clouds promised rain and I wondered if the tenants would arrive before the downpour began. The grandfather clock chimed ten times. A few drops of rain splattered on the window and dotted the sidewalk. I stretched. Robespierre leaped to the floor. Using the crutches as an extra pair of legs I hobbled to the kitchen.

  Twenty minutes later I covered a tray of cold cuts, cheese, rolls and salads with plastic wrap. I taped one of the razor sharp knives Bob Randal had given as gifts to select friends. The handle of ebony wood with slashes of ivory was distinctive and attractive. Feeling as though I'd accomplished a feat I returned to the living room and my observation post.

  "I won't be dependent.” A smug note entered my voice.

  "Merup.” Robespierre's cry fulfilled one of his purposed in my life. I've always talked aloud to myself. Guests often gave me odd looks, perhaps questioning my mental state. Having a pet stopped their speculation.

  The cat walked beside me. I settled on the window seat with its perfect view of the neighborhood. The rain had stopped. A battered blue van pulled into the driveway and parked behind my gray sedan.

  When Ted Thomas’ silver Mercedes with a rusty trailer in tow pulled in at the curb, a giggle escaped. Andrew's best friend always considers his impression on others before he acts. The sight beyond my window was enough to shatter his suave playboy image.

  A blonde woman left the car.
Two children erupted from the van and tore across the yard running through one of the flowerbeds. I raised the window in time to hear their name-calling. Two men opened the door of the van and carried pieces of furniture to the house. A couch, two easy chairs, a dinette set, several dressers, a bed, mattress and some tables. I thought of the odds and ends of furniture in the attic. Would the offer of beds for the children offend my tenant?

  As soon as they unloaded the van, the man carried boxes from the trailer. The children dashed up and down the walk. Ted and the blonde stood like Siamese twins joined at the hip and watched the progress. Ted had attempted to disguise himself by wearing dark glasses.

  The phone rang. Without missing a second of the unfolding drama, I answered.

  "Just me.” Sarah said. “What's she like? Are the kids nice? Is that Ted Thomas?"

  "It is."

  "Is that all?"

  "You know as much as I do."

  "Didn't they come for the keys?"

  "Andrew must have given them a set.” A black Lincoln drove past. Ted turned his back to the street. I laughed.

  "What's so funny?” Sarah asked.

  "Ted. He's acting like he's about to be caught performing an illegal act. He's wearing dark glasses. Maybe he'd like a false beard."

  "If he's afraid of being seen, why offer to help?"

  "I can't answer for him but I'm sure I'll learn."

  "It's not like he can't be seen with her. He's divorced and so is she."

  Sarah was right. Ted has been divorced for five years. Though he and Andrew are buddies and Ted's ex-wife is a member of St. Stephens, I've never learned the details of the split. “Talk to you later."

  "Good enough,” Sarah said. “Shame you're an invalid. Otherwise you could make a neighborly call."

  "Goodbye.” None of my family or friends knew how far towards independence I've traveled. Yesterday before Bessie left I'd reached the landing. Today I intended to go to the first floor.

  The van backed out of the driveway. Ted got into his car. As the Mercedes and trailer pulled away the blonde blew a kiss.

  Curiosity as strong as the cat killing kind egged me into action. I rubbed Robespierre's head. “Too soon to go down."

  An hour later, Robespierre pawed my face and startled me awake. He jumped from my side and padded to the kitchen. The cat door flapped. I hobbled to the kitchen and took the tray from the refrigerator and set it on the table. Then with extreme caution I started down the stairs. After a brief rest on the landing I continued. In the foyer I wiped my sweat-drenched forehead and felt as if I'd worked hours in the garden on a sultry day. I rang the bell to announce my arrival.