Tea-Totally Dead (30 page)

“I’ll help you clean it up,” Wayne offered softly.

“Thank you,” I whispered back without really hearing him. I couldn’t understand the mess. Why didn’t they put things back after they were finished? We might as well have been burglarized. Except that burglars might have been neater.

“Sorry,” Wayne said even more softly.

I came back to earth with a thump. So my house was a mess. Wayne’s mother was dead. That couldn’t be cleaned up. And Harmony was dead. And Clara? I turned to Wayne.

Maybe I turned too fast. The room began to shimmer in front of my eyes.

“You okay?” Wayne asked.

I took a deep breath and tried to remember when I had last eaten. Not since the night before, I was pretty sure.

“I’m just hungry,” I told him, relieved to have found a physical cause for my distress. “How about you?”

“I’ll make you something to eat,” was all he said.

I followed him into the kitchen. All my herbs were gone. Not just the healing herbs and the teas but the Schilling and Spice Islands jars too. They must have been looking for whatever had been in Vesta’s herbal tea, I realized. Some deadly dill or bloodstained basil. Or—

“Guess I can’t make you that spaghetti sauce from scratch tonight,” Wayne commented, jerking his head at the nearly empty spice cabinet.

I looked up into his face, confused. What spaghetti sauce? His eyebrows were raised, the corners of his mouth curved upwards. It took me a while to interpret this data. Then I realized he was making a joke. Hallelujah! Shaking my head at that weak joke felt as good as eating the peanut butter-and-banana sandwiches he made for us. Even better.

After we finished stuffing our faces, we went to the bedroom to change our clothes. I opened the closet door. All the clothes that had been hung up were now piled on the floor. I picked up a blouse and tried to rehang it. But there was nothing to hang it from.

“What the hell?” I whispered.

“Four-foot wooden rods,” Wayne answered. “That’s what the hangers were hanging from.”

“But why—” I began.

“Long, rounded, varnished wooden objects—” he said.

“Like Harmony’s baseball bat,” I finished for him.

Fifteen minutes later, we had changed our clothes and were heading for the Redwood Grove Inn in the Jaguar. When I’d asked Wayne if he thought we needed a lawyer, he told me that we needed to solve the murders. Period. And inevitably, he had arranged another social outing with the Skeritts. They would be waiting for us in the Timber Lounge for cocktails before dinner at the Old Burl Cafe. How lovely. Before leaving the house, I had called the hospital to ask about Clara, but once again I had been told nothing.

“You don’t have to be here,” Wayne said once he had parked in the motel parking lot. It was twilight now and peaceful. It would be so easy to go somewhere else, to drift away—

“I want to be here,” I told him, shaking off any dissenting thoughts.

We walked into the Timber Lounge together. It was dark in there under the hanging ferns. I heard the Skeritts before I saw them.

“… must decide if we leave tomorrow or not,” a resonant voice was insisting. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw that it was Trent who was speaking. He was standing with the rest of the Skeritts near the bar, his hands clasped behind him, his trim body erect and dignified.

“But, Dad,” Lori objected loudly. She waved a hand in his face as if to get his attention, jangling bracelets as she did. He glowered at her, making full use of his heavy Skeritt brows, but she went on anyway. “How will we know who killed Aunt Vesta if we leave? I don’t think we’ll really heal until—”

“I’m sure the proper authorities will notify us once they uncover the perpetrator’s identity,” he said crisply. “It’s simply a matter of time.”

“Two people dead,” Ingrid whispered hoarsely. She shook her white head slowly. As tall as she was, she looked shrunken now. But then again, that was comparatively easy in the land of the giants.

“It’s all part of the karmic plan, Mama,” Lori explained enthusiastically. “We’ll heal. We’ll find out who did it ourselves—”

“But that’s totally bogus,” Eric interrupted shrilly. “How can we find out anything ourselves if we leave?”

Lori waved her hands in the air. ‘That’s exactly what I mean!” she exclaimed.

“Grampy and I will stay,” Eric offered eagerly. “Won’t we, Grampy?”

Ace shrugged his massive shoulders, reminding me of Wayne once again.

“You know what?” the boy continued, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’ve been reading all these totally cool books about investigation techniques. All we have to do is like work as a team—”

“What if one of our team is the murderer?” Gail asked quietly.

No one seemed to have an answer to that one. Everyone just stood, stunned, as Gail and Eric stared at each other nose to nose, glasses to glasses.

“Hi, you guys!” I called out as if I hadn’t heard any of the conversation.

Dru came out of her trance first.

“Well, hello there!” she called back, her voice high and taut. “Fancy meeting you here.” She giggled at her own little joke. Bill toasted us silently with his everpresent glass.

I forced an answering smile onto my face as we walked over to the group.

Ace put his arm around Wayne’s shoulders when we got there.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted him. “Been trying to figure out how much longer we’re staying.” He looked down at the floor, then added, “If you don’t mind a goofy old guy like me hanging around, I’d like some more time with the two of you.”

Wayne didn’t say anything. Ace pulled his arm away from Wayne’s shoulders slowly.

“We’d love it,” I said hastily.

Ace reached for my hand and pulled it to his lips, smacking loudly as he kissed it.

“Hooboy, forget Wayne,” he suggested with a quick grin. “Just the two of us. Whaddaya say?”

I winked at him, conspiring to ignore his hurt feelings. I knew that it was Wayne he wanted to see, Wayne he loved. I stared at his homely clown’s face. Was he really Wayne’s father?

“Hey, Kate,” Lori whispered in my ear. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

“Sure,” I answered, turning away from Ace.

She jerked her head to indicate the other end of the dimly lit room. Her beaded earrings dangled musically as her head moved. She had changed into a new outfit since the funeral, pink stirrup pants and a paisley dashiki.

I followed her across the room obediently, past a harassed-looking waitress who was pushing tables together for our family group. I took a quick look around me. There didn’t seem to be anybody else in the bar but the waitress and the Skeritts.

Lori waited until we had reached the safety of the furthest corner from the rest of the family before she spoke. And even then, she peered back over my head first.

“We had a visit today from your friend Felix,” she whispered. Her brown eyes were wide as she gazed down at me.

“Oh, no,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Did he talk to everyone?”

Lori nodded.

I groaned.

“Is he hideous or something?” Mandy asked from where she stood next to me. I started. I hadn’t heard her footsteps.

“He
is
hideous,” I answered gravely. “Worse than hideous.”

Mandy giggled. Oh well, let her think I was kidding.

“Felix said you were very, very intuitive,” Lori told me. “That you’d solved murders before.” She lowered her voice again. “He said you’d probably solved these murders too, and just weren’t telling. Is that true, Kate?”

I shook my head vehemently, inwardly damning Felix. What if he had told the murderer that?

Lori put her face very close to mine and looked into my eyes. I held my breath to keep from drowning in the scent of her sweet and spicy perfume.

“Really?” she asked.

“Really,” I whispered back.

Lori was the first but not the last of the Skeritts who wished to speak with me privately. Gail shanghaied me as I walked back to the main group, whispering that she would be over later tonight to discuss suspects with me. I nodded agreeably. What fun. I’d make sure I was armed for the meeting.

Then Trent took my arm and led me in the opposite direction, asking if he could speak to me alone sometime before dinner. I resisted the urge to tell him to take a number, and accepted his invitation.

Dru was next. Only she didn’t need any privacy.

“Your friend Felix told us you were quite the detective,” she gushed. “So when are you going to solve our little murders for us?”

I took a leaf from Wayne’s book and shrugged my shoulders enigmatically. I was even able to smile at her as I thought about throttling Felix the next time I saw him.

Bill leaned toward me, wafting alcohol.

“Death turns you on, huh?” he asked.

I was stunned. The man had finally spoken. Considering his words, I was just as glad he didn’t do it more often.

I shrugged again, leaving off the smile this time.

Trent tapped me on the shoulder. I turned away from Bill and Dru gladly.

“Can we talk?” Trent asked quietly.

“Sure,” I said. At least he didn’t smell of alcohol.

“Perhaps it would be better if we went outside for a moment,” Trent suggested.

I looked for Wayne and saw him with Ace, listening to the older man with a solemn expression on his face. I wouldn’t interrupt them.

I nodded and followed Trent as he led the way out of the bar. It was dark outside now, even darker than it had been in the bar.

“I thought we could talk by the pool,” Trent explained as he led me down the concrete stairs. For a moment, I thought I heard footsteps behind us, but I couldn’t hear them when I stopped to listen. The hair prickled on the back of my neck. Maybe I shouldn’t have come out here without Wayne. Especially alone with one of the suspects. But that was silly, I told myself. I was still within shouting distance. As least I thought so. And besides, everyone had seen me leave with Trent, hadn’t they?

I felt cheered by the squat garden lamps sticking out of the concrete around the pool. They illuminated the whole area. There were three stone statues of dolphins poolside, and plants in cement containers between the lounge chairs. The Redwood Grove Inn probably wanted to discourage anyone from carrying the plants home. The pool water undulated, catching the light and reflecting it in hypnotic patterns. The sound of the water gently lapping against concrete echoed into the silence.

“So, what’s up?” I asked Trent brusquely. It was too cold out here. I wanted to go back to the warmth of the bar.

“I have something to show you,” he answered quietly.

He reached under one of the lounge chairs and pulled something out. It took me a moment to recognize that what he was holding in the lamplight was Harmony’s wooden baseball bat.

“Where did you find it?” I breathed.

- Twenty-Three -

But Trent didn’t answer me. Instead he drew the bat back shoulder-high, like a batter at home plate ready to swing.

“No!” someone screamed.

Trent hesitated a second before following through.

I didn’t stop to wonder who had screamed. I stepped backwards as fast as I could until I was at the edge of the swimming pool.

His swing was a good one. It would have knocked my head into the outfield if my head had stayed put.

“Damn you,” he said quietly and strode forward, winding up to swing again.

I didn’t wait for his follow-through. I turned and dived into the pool. God, it was cold! I just hoped I’d come up again. As I struggled silently upwards toward the surface, I could feel my clothes absorbing liquid, weighing me down like concrete. My Reeboks must have weighed at least ten pounds now. I was relieved to feel them touch ground. I was in the shallow end! I popped my head out of the water and sucked in air.

“No, Trent!” I heard over the echoes of my own breathing.

I looked up in time to see Trent throw the bat at me. I ducked. I didn’t need to. The bat landed harmlessly beside me, disappearing in the water. Fingerprints, I thought. That bat was evidence! I turned to find it. It bobbed up obligingly, touching my shoulder. I reached out to grab it. Did water wash off fingerprints? Did it wash off blood?

Then I heard the sound of running footsteps. And the voice again, “You mustn’t do this!”

I turned to the sound and saw Ingrid jogging toward Trent, her white hair luminous in the lamplight. Trent picked up a dolphin statue and lifted it above his head.

“Mustn’t I?” he hissed. “I have! And she knows. Her reporter friend told me. She knows!”

I abandoned the bat as I dove deep into the cold water. An instant later, I felt the Shockwaves of the statue splashing down behind me. Damn. Trent must have believed Felix’s claim that I knew who the murderer was. I cursed my ex-friend and swam blindly along the rim of the pool, bobbing up when I couldn’t hold my breath anymore. My head was just above water, my wet clothing dragging me down. I grabbed at the concrete edge of the pool and held on tight.