Chapter 15 #2
“Next suspect,” Abby said, looking up again then going back to Tara. “Tara Kelly.”
“Motive,” Queenie jumped in quickly. “Humiliated wife.”
“Public embarrassment,” I added while staring into the fire. “Possible blackmail from Florence.”
“Opportunity during the tea spill,” Hank added quietly.
“But alibi from Brittany Dales,” Abby said while writing everything down.
“She also had eyes on Tara most of the afternoon,” Waldo said. “And Mary Elizabeth confirmed Brittany stayed close to her after the fundraiser.”
Everyone turned to look at Waldo, as though we were wondering how he knew that.
“Mary Elizabeth told me while we were here last night.” He shrugged. “Journalists listen to everything.”
Abby nodded and drew another line in the notebook.
“Alice Charles,” Abby continued.
“Professional resentment, conservation disputes, and she didn’t like Florence at all,” Queenie added. “Remember, she donated ten thousand dollars to the Historical Society to be seated next to Florence at the tea party.”
“Plus two weeks ago, she started having Reiki sessions and doing forest-wellness stuff with Tex,” I added, leaning forward. “Which puts her in the woods where the poison was harvested.”
“Don’t forget about those stolen teacups in her room at the Milkery, which proves she’s already deceitful.” Dottie pointed her lit cigarette at me.
“Okay, now see that part right there?” Waldo said while adjusting his glasses. “How exactly did y’all know those cups were in Alice’s room?”
“Why don’t you worry about your own crimes?” Dottie snapped.
“I’m serious,” Waldo pressed while leaning forward excitedly.
“We are not discussing that,” I answered quickly. “And Al knows.”
“Did you two go to the Milkery while it was taped off?” Hank asked, rubbing his hand down his face because he already knew the answer.
The fire popped loudly, and my silence was louder. Hank let out a long sigh with a disappointed shake of his head.
“Let’s move on to Tex,” Abby said with a frown.
“He has access to the mushrooms, he makes the roller bottles, and he had the opportunity with access to the fundraiser,” I said, pointing out the obvious. “I just can’t wrap my head around a motive.”
“Which seems to be a big void in Al’s case,” I pointed out.
“There’s no motive for Tex,” Betts said. “The only motive is for Al to get this wrapped up so the governor doesn’t can him for accusing his wife.”
“Betts!” Dottie snorted, calling out Betts as the rest of us laughed, since Betts was the kindest one out of all of us. For her to say the sort of thing she just had was so much out of her nature. But that was when you knew she meant what she said.
“She’s not wrong,” Hank broke in, and suddenly we all felt reassured about our knowledge that Tex couldn’t’ve done it. “He did say that Florence threatened his business, but y’all know Tex. He lets all those things roll off his back.”
“Or that bare chest of his,” Dottie said in a seductive voice, wiggling her brows.
“Well, I do have photos from the tea party fundraiser, since Mary Elizabeth had asked me to document it. If you think you’d find anything, I’m happy to show you,” Waldo offered.
“That would be great,” I said and got up to sit on the log next to him. “Can we do it now?”
“Sure,” he said then bent down to get his camera bag.
All of us sat there while he fiddled with the buttons on his camera.
“I’m not saying you’re going to find anything, but there’s hundreds to go through,” he said, handing his camera to me. “You can scroll through by hitting the right arrow.”
Everyone gathered around me as I slowly scrolled through the photos, making sure I took a few seconds on each one, so all eyes got to see the image.
The first several photos were exactly what you’d expect from one of Mary Elizabeth’s fancy fundraisers, with the draped tables and all the tiered trays filled with the delicious pastries from the Cookie Crumble.
“That makes my mouth water,” Abby said. “I might stop by there in the morning on the way to the library.”
“Look at all those big ole hats,” Dottie pointed out when we got to some of the candid shots.
“I bet Mary Elizabeth was cringing when she saw all those guests with their pinkies lifted,” I laughed and pointed out.
“Why?” Dottie asked, and she picked up her coffee mug, deliberately sticking her pinkie out.
“That’s not proper, even though we do see these things on the TV.” I wiggled my pinkie in the air. “And that’s one thing Florence would’ve taught in her classes.”
“Is it possible she corrected someone at the fundraiser?” Waldo asked.
“It would’ve had to have been before the event, since the poison was in the roller,” Hank pointed out, deflating Waldo’s idea.
I continued flipping through photos and smiled when I got to the ones Waldo took of the small string quartet Mary Elizabeth had set up near the flower wall. Then there was one with Brittany very close to Tara’s side, which only solidified Tara’s alibi.
“Look at that,” Dottie said, pointing out Florence in the background of the photos with Tara and Brittany. Florence was giving them a glare.
Waldo leaned over and looked.
“That was before the waitress spilled all the tea.” He noted how Florence was already on edge with them before the incident. “If you click forward a few more, you’re going to see a lot more faces that are not happy.”
I took an even bigger pause when I got to those photos of the waitress carrying the silver tea pot.
Then Waldo caught Alice leaning over to talk to Florence.
Then the next picture showed Florence waving her hand in the air like she was waving Alice off.
This was right before the next photo, in which the tea was spilled.
“I took a series of photos so you can get the whole picture of the spill,” Waldo said, meaning he had used the quick-shutter camera feature to continuously click to get all the photos.
The photos showed how the tea had splashed across and all over the linen tablecloth, along with each person’s sudden surprise, including my own. Brittany Dales was quick to be by Tara’s side.
I continued to click through and saw all the faces.
“Go back!” Dottie hollered. “I saw somethin’.”
I clicked back and she pointed. “There. That face.”
It was Florence, looking at the waitress with a shocked look, and the waitress also had a different expression, like Florence had caught her.
“Good eye.” Queenie patted Dottie. “They look like they know each other.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “The incident almost looks accidental, but it wasn’t. Both look startled.”
“And the waitress was the one who reset the table,” Queenie pointed out from memory. “She had access to the bottles because they also had set all the tables before the guests arrived.”
“It looks like we have another suspect,” I noted and realized that I hadn’t yet gone to see Coke Ogden to get the waitress’s information. “Tomorrow afternoon, I’m going to go see Coke Ogden. Waldo”—I looked over at him—“can you send me these photos?”
“I’ll zip them to you tonight,” he said as I handed him back the camera.
“I bet we’ve been finger-pointing at the wrong woman this whole time,” Dottie said. The cigarette smoke curled upward into the now dark campground.