Autumn Leaves was the closer of the two specialty groceries Lettie planned to visit, and she headed in that direction. She parked in the blacktop lot in front of the gray stucco building. The store specialized in health foods and carried fresh fruits and vegetables of impeccable quality. Gourmet cheeses, homemade breads, grains, coffee and tea abounded on the shelves. Lettie headed directly for the coffee/tea section.
"May I help you," chirped a petite, brunette, whom Lettie assumed was a college student. She was wearing a Midwestern University tee shirt, and she looked incredibly young. Her burgundy and gray name tag stated that her name was Blythe and she was "Happy to be of Help."
I hope you can, she thought. "Hello, Blythe, I'm a friend of Charlotte Downey, and I wondered when was the last time you saw her here and do you recall ever selling her the specialty tea blend?" "Sure. Mrs. Downey came in here regularly for her tea. I've been waiting on her for the past three years. I'm sure going to miss her. She certainly was a nice lady. I heard she might have been murdered."
"That's right."
"I saw her on Monday of this week. I had a flat tire and got here just before noon because of it. Mrs. Downey saw that I looked a little frazzled, and I told her my story. So there's no doubt it was Monday, because I'll never forget all the trouble I had that day. She was so sympathetic and asked if I needed a ride home. I told her that another of the employees had already agreed to give me a ride."
"Did she buy any tea that day?"
"No, she didn't. She was buying some cheese. She told me she was having guests on Tuesday night. However, a man did buy some of Mrs. Downey's blend on Tuesday."
Lettie's pulse quickened. "Do you know who it was?"
"I'm not certain, but he was certainly handsome for an older man."
"What did he look like?"
"It's hard for me to remember, but I know he had Mel Gibson's blue eyes."
Jeff Downey. It had to be Jeff Downey; those blue eyes were hard to ignore, Lettie mused. Of course, at her age, she would probably have likened his eyes to Paul Newman's. This was certainly putting a hole in her theory about Amelia.
"Do you know if it was Mr. Downey?"
"I can't tell you that. I don't remember ever having met this person. I just remember the tea and the eyes. You know Mrs. Downey's tea blend was so unusual; we mixed it especially for her per her instructions."
"Do you have a list of the ingredients or does she just tell you what she wants?"
"Oh, we always keep things like that on file in case someone comes in to buy a gift."
"Could I have the ingredients in the blend?"
Blythe reached under the wooden counter which was laden with glass jars containing different herbs. She pulled out a four by six file box and retrieved a file card.
"Do you want me to copy it for you or do you just want to look at it?"
"Copying it would be wonderful, thank you."
Lettie watched while Blythe transferred the list of ingredients to a blank four by six index card. Lettie was pleased that Blythe was being so cooperative; however, now Jeff Downey was back in the running as a suspect. She still wanted to go to Boston Tea Party to check further.
Beginning to feel a little guilty that she had not purchased anything from the store after having taken up so much of Blythe's time, she decided to purchase some coffee. Also recalling that she needed broccoli for her casserole, she would get a bunch here and save herself a trip to the grocery.
Lettie quickly perused the card Blythe handed her. She really didn't know what she was looking for, but felt better that she had the list of ingredients. Nothing on the list was out of the ordinary. Most of the ingredients were common herbs.
"Does everyone here at the store have access to these jars?"
"Certainly anyone can open them, but only the people who work in this department are allowed to blend the custom teas."
"Who works in this department?"
"Besides me, Polly Benson and Jonathan Spencer."
"Is Jonathan Spencer the son of Gloria Spencer?"
"I don't know him well. He's only been working here a short time. I do know he's a freshman at MU, and he lives at home."
Lettie made a mental note to check to see if Gloria's son did indeed work at Autumn Leaves. She had no idea what good that would do her, but maybe he might know something.
Her guilt getting the best of her, she picked out some Kona coffee, thanked Blythe, and left the counter. The produce section beckoned next, and she picked out some organic broccoli. It was not often that she paid this price for fresh broccoli, but she had saved herself a trip to the grocery.
After paying for her purchases, she left Autumn Leaves resolving not to return any time soon. It was a wonderful store, but her pocket book could not afford its prices. She climbed into the van that was toasty from the brilliant spring sun and rolled down her windows. The warm air felt good to her body and made her tired muscles feel better.
Her theory that Jeff was in the clear was now somewhat clouded, she thought. Mentally she reminded herself to ask Mitch if Jeff's alibi had been thoroughly checked if he would tell her. There was nothing wrong with a husband buying tea for his wife, but Blythe suggested that he was not a frequent customer of Autumn Leaves. Blythe revealed that she had worked at the store for three years and this had been the first time she had seen him. Why had he bought tea for her on this particular day?
Heading to the east side of Stafford and to Boston Tea Party in hopes that she would glean as much information from that location made her spirits soar. She also looked forward to seeing the owners, Betty and Hank Ivers. Ten years ago she sold the property to them. Lettie visited in their store every six months or so, but she was not what one would call a regular customer.
Boston, as frequenters called it, carried tea, coffee and baked goods. They also carried tea paraphernalia--cups, teapots, infusers and so forth. It was housed in what was once a residence, and after East Columbus Avenue was zoned commercial shortly after University Mall opened, the original owners had put it on the market to take advantage of their good fortune.
The Ivers had done little to the outside of the dwelling except to paint it a colonial red and to add cream colored shutters to the six-pane windows. The store looked as if it should be located in Boston, the city, as opposed to a Midwestern address.
Lettie wondered if Charlotte frequented Boston Tea Party for another blend of tea or the same mixture she found at Autumn Leaves. She knew that Charlotte had many favorites.
Lettie parked her van in the lot behind the building and ambled toward the rear entrance, which was flanked by bright pink peony bushes. Located to the right of the cream colored door was a small deck which contained two yellow tables and chairs for outdoor dining. A yellow and white striped awning covered the deck and protected diners from foul weather. Taking advantage of the beautiful weather, a young couple occupied one of the tables. She noticed they were eating scones and drinking coffee. Lettie always noticed food.
A ringing bell announced her presence. She moved along a back hall noticing well-stocked shelves of jams, jellies, and lemon curd on each side of her. Smells wafting from the ovens in the kitchen reached her nostrils and gave her a snack attack. She noted that it had been some time since lunch. A snack was definitely in order.
Hank Ivers manned the cash register in the combination dining room and sales area. Betty, she assumed, was the cause of the wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen. The place was empty of customers inside which suited Lettie just fine.
"Hi, Hank, how have you been?"
"Lettie, it's great to see you. You look terrific as usual. You know if Betty ever leaves me, I'll have to marry you."
Hank always went on like this with all the women. He was a lover of the female gender but would never stray from his wife of thirty years. Lettie always felt good around this cheerful couple and wondered why she didn't stop in more often. She reprimanded herself for not doing just that.
Hank was bald with wisps of curly white hair at his temples. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and if dressed appropriately would make a wonderful model for Santa Claus. His jovial, outgoing nature plus his wife's terrific baking had combined to make Boston a successful enterprise.
"Betty, get in here. You'll never guess who's shown up at last."
"Who is it," came a muffled voice from the kitchen.
"Our favorite realtor."
Betty came out of the kitchen wearing a white apron and brushing flour from her hands. Betty's gray streaked hair was fashioned in a knot on top of her head. Her smile was infectious, and Lettie found herself feeling as cheerful as she had in days.
"Lettie, we don't see enough of you," Betty admonished.
"You know I don't know why I don't drop in more often. I drive by all the time."
Lettie was feeling guilty that she had come in because of her snooping as opposed to genuinely wanting to see this marvelous, hardworking couple.
Betty moved beside her husband, and he put his arm around her shoulders. They fit together like a lock and key and seemed so content with one another. She wished that some day she would find a man who would adore her as much as Hank did Betty.
"I must admit I came in for some information. Charlotte Downey was a good friend of mine, and as you've probably heard she was murdered."
Lettie related the details of the past few days to Mr. and Mrs. Ivers and asked if anyone had come in to purchase Charlotte's tea blend. The Ivers did not recall anyone having purchased Charlotte's favorite teas in the recent past. This clearly put a damper on Lettie's investigation. However, her appetite could not be thwarted. Lettie ordered a piece of cream cheese pound cake and a cup of decaf with cream. She sat down at one of the four tables situated inside the store, and Betty joined her.
"You know, Hank, I remember the last time Charlotte was here. She was with her sister. They were stocking up on tea and coffee. Her sister doesn't touch tea but drinks a fair share of coffee."
"Do you remember when that was?" Lettie probed.
"It must have been in March, because Charlotte was talking about having a St. Patrick's Day party."
"I never thought she and Amelia did anything together. I'm surprised that they were shopping together," Lettie remarked.
"They came in here together several times," Hank added.
This was a development Lettie hadn't anticipated. No one seemed to think that Amelia and Charlotte had much in common or did things together.
"What are your impressions of Amelia?"
Neither Hank nor Betty seemed to have any opinions about her. They said she had been pleasant, but very opinionated in her choice of coffees. It seems as though Amelia was as addicted to coffee as Charlotte was to tea.
"I know why I don't come in here more often. I would weigh a ton. This pound cake is wonderful, Betty."
"It was a recipe that my grandmother brought over from Ireland. I'm quite partial to it myself. I've changed the original recipe a bit, but it's one of our best sellers."
Lettie decided to buy a whole pound cake as part of her contribution to the food to be taken to the Downey's house. Since she had a date this evening, she would save time by not having to bake. Making the broccoli casserole in the morning would be bad enough.
After paying for her purchases, she promised the Ivers that she would be back soon and left by the rear door. It might hurt her waistline a little, but Hank and Betty made her feel good. Such a wonderful couple.
Disappointed that she really hadn't learned much from her trips to the two stores, she started the van and sat there thinking for a few minutes. Lettie peeked at her watch and decided she didn't have to get home just yet. She had plenty of time before Mitch was to call about their date this evening.
Lettie decided on the spur of the moment that she would go to Williams Lumber Company. She could look around and maybe she would run across Amelia. If she found her, Lettie didn't know what she would do, but this did not deter her in the least.
The Williams Lumber Company complex was on the west side of Stafford. The west side of town was older and more depressed than the east side, and the lumber company located here originally because the area was close to downtown Stafford. It was a cheap location tax wise, and had withstood the emergence of two other lumber companies in the past twenty years. Williams had expanded from just a lumberyard into a large home improvement center in recent years. No doubt, their sound financial status was due largely to Amelia's and Jeff's business acumen.
The drive wouldn't take long, but Lettie had twirled her hair into a ringlet by the time she had traveled a block from Boston Tea Party. Her mind engrossed in possible scenarios with Amelia Williams and herself as the star players, she admitted that she was nervous about confronting her after their disastrous meeting Wednesday night.
Lettie had to drive through the parking lot of the lumber company twice to find a spot. Just as she was about to give up, a motorcycle backed out. Lettie squeezed her van into a space between a red Chevy truck and a forsythia bush. She grabbed her purse and walked through the gravel lot to the two-story building. The building really had no particular style which was a necessity since several additions to the original structure had been made over the years. Predominantly brick with white trim, a large green and white sign announced that Williams Lumber Company would have a gardening seminar on June 1st. Lettie's legs were wobbly. The thought of confronting Amelia had gotten to her. She began to wonder if this had been a good idea, and if she should follow Mitch's instructions to let the Stafford P.D. do the questioning and investigative work.
After opening the right side of the double glass doors, she observed a gigantic show room. Red signs hung from the ceiling proclaiming the contents of the rows of merchandise. The showroom exhibited a great deal of organization, Lettie thought. Anything that a person wanted to build a house or remodel one had to be in this gigantic room.
Although Lettie had grown up in Stafford, she had not had many occasions to visit any of the lumber companies. Not being a handy sort, she left household repairs up to handymen from Watkins and Edwards. Since Lettie really didn't need anything from the store, she surreptitiously looked for the offices. As luck would have it, she spotted the offices on the second level near the carpeting and tile department. She bounded up the stairs with newly found energy and positioned herself in front of the rainbow of carpet samples.
On her way to the carpet area, Lettie observed a series of doors. Two of the doors were closed. They belonged to the president and vice-president proclaimed the brass plates attached at eye level. A desk was positioned in the space between the two doors. No one was in attendance at this desk, but Lettie assumed that Amelia and Jeff had a secretary who was temporarily away from her work area. The other doors were neither labeled nor closed. She could see inside the open doors from her position in front of the plush carpeting display. Nothing particularly interesting was going on in these offices and people seemed to be hard at work.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" came from a voice behind her. Lettie whirled around, and her heart rate accelerated. There stood a tall blond woman elegantly attired in a red suit. It was Amelia Williams, her face showing signs of strain. Lettie could not believe her good fortune. She hoped that she didn't look like the cat that swallowed the canary. However, she was in a place of business and had every right to be where she was.
"I was just thinking," Lettie blurted out. "I was trying to decide what color would look best in my condo." Crossing her fingers behind her back, she hoped she wouldn't be struck dead on the spot for her lie.
"You look familiar, haven't we met before?"
"Yes, we have. I'm Lettie Balfour. I was in your sister Charlotte's bridge group, and I was the one who found her body. I met you at her house Wednesday night." Lettie was talking so quickly she wasn't sure Amelia could comprehend.
"I hope you find what you are looking for. I need to get to my office. It was good seeing you again."
Lettie was trying her darndest to think of how to strike up a conversation with her latest suspect. She decided to continue to babble.
"I saw Jeff at noon. We both were having lunch at the Ladybug Cafe. He was distraught. I can't imagine why the police think he murdered Charlotte."
Of course, Lettie knew quite well why the police suspected Jeff, but she didn't want to let on to Amelia. Pretending to be dumb sometimes worked to your advantage.
"Yes. I saw him briefly. He came by the office to talk to me about the funeral arrangements. Frank Welburn met us here."
"I thought he was going to the funeral home by himself."
"I talked him into meeting with Frank Welburn here. It was more convenient for the both of us. I had some work to finish."
It was apparent that Jeff and Alvin Crabtree were correct in their assessment of Amelia's method of handling grief.
"When is the funeral?"
"It will be Monday at afternoon at two. Visitation is tomorrow night from five to nine."
"Has Jeff been allowed back in the house?"
"Oh, yes. The police called while we were meeting and told him it was all right to go home."
"We Covered Bridgers want to bring food to the house. Would you like for us to bring food to your place, also?"
"Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I'll be at Charlotte's house most of the time." Amelia's attitude was markedly improved from her display Wednesday night. She was not chatty, but was forthcoming and polite.
Amelia continued, "It will be strange to go back to the house. I saw Charlotte there Wednesday afternoon. As a matter of fact, I had to remind Charlotte to meet me there. I was afraid she would forget, so I called her at the beauty parlor. I only saw her for fifteen or twenty minutes. I wish I had stayed longer now."
Lettie wondered why they needed to meet. Amelia could have poisoned her sister, but why would she tell a virtual stranger that she had been there if she were the murderer. Lettie's mind was really in a quandary.
"I'm sorry you lost your sister in such a horrible way. We are all going to miss her."
"I guess you know that Charlotte and I weren't the closest, but I will miss her. Now I really must get going. I assume I'll see you at the funeral home."
Amelia stretched out her right hand and grasped Lettie's in a firm handshake. Lettie's father had always expressed admiration for someone with a firm handshake. Amelia would have impressed him. She turned and walked to the door marked "President," opened and closed it.
Lettie was certainly glad she had made this little expedition. Why had Amelia confessed that she had been at Charlotte's the day of the murder? Of course, she could be so confident that she had committed the perfect crime that she didn't mind telling people that she had been with her sister the afternoon of her death.
Time for her escape. Since Amelia was behind closed doors, she decided she no longer needed to keep up her ruse. She wound her way down the stairs and out the front door. Her watch told her that it was high time she got home to wait for Mitch's call.