One Cuppa Brew: Book 1 in The Thyme for Tea Series Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ONE CUPPA BREW

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  One Cuppa Brew

  Book One in The Thyme for Tea Series

  By

  J. Louise Powell

  Copyright 2016 Summer Prescott Books

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  **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

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  ONE CUPPA BREW

  By J. Louise Powell

  CHAPTER ONE

  Iris Potts glanced up as she heard “Have a Cuppa Tea,” the jaunty jingle signaling the door opening. Most of her customers didn’t recognize the chorus of the Kinks song, but the few that did were sure to stay and chat, others just thought the “Hallelujahs” were a nod to her former career. Have a Cuppa Brew and Books was her dream retirement business, well earned after a long career in the ministry. She had hoped to become a church elder here, in Florida or Alabama when she retired, but religious politics in the Southern states weren’t at the same level as the ones in the North, and she didn’t have the time or energy to focus there anymore. She found that by serving tea or suggesting books to customers she could lend an ear and offer a good bit of wisdom. Being a widow meant she didn’t have to be managing a home for anyone other than herself, so she enjoyed her unconventional ministry.

  The bell probably meant her usual first customer, Mr. Winthrop, who came to the shop each day after his morning walk and before playing tennis. He generally arrived during the first morning break, so they had a chance to catch up. Due to his exercise schedule, he rarely ate anything at this time of day. But he was always sure to catch up on the newest titles and place his order for his post-tennis treat, which he would come back for in about an hour.

  “William, how was the beach this morning?” she asked as he crossed the small space to the food and beverage area.

  “Simply delightful, Pastor, I wish I could get you out there with me more often.” He blushed as he said the last part. “I mean, my words don’t do it justice, and you are simply steps away from the beauty.”

  Pastor was as much a part of her as her given name of Iris. Born Iris Marsha Thompson, she was sure anyone who did official documents would laugh when they saw her married name of I.M. Potts. Becoming a minister had aided that, when people began addressing her as Reverend Potts. But Pastor Potts had come off the tongue more easily, and rather than argue with it, she just stuck to it. In fact, she had former parishioners who probably believed it was her name. Since her father-in-law had been one of the first big developers in Perdido Key, and she had begun vacationing here years before retirement and the bookstore, she was known to locals as Pastor. That was enough for her to keep it. Names carried weight. Luckily she didn’t think William wanted her to call him “Spy,” as she was pretty sure that was what he had been. “I take my moment every morning and evening, but someone has to be here, right?” she replied, neatly sidestepping his words.

  “I know, Pastor, you like to be there to make sure the sun comes up and goes down, don’t you? How will you handle the beginning of daylight savings time?”

  “I’m sure God will get the sun up without me for a few days, William, so I can be on time to open the shop,,” she said with a smile. “Is today doubles or singles?” She knew that he might barely break a sweat in doubles play, but on the days he played singles he always drank an extra glass of water as soon as he stopped by for his brunch.

  “I’m not sure yet. Joe was talking about playing mixed doubles today, just for something different. But those women can be poor sports, always blaming us if they lose, even if we make every hit. It gets old, but I think he likes one of the new girls.”

  “Well, maybe it will be good for him. I assume she’s unmarried and new to Oyster Creek?” Pastor replied.

  “She’s newly widowed. I knew her husband years ago, and it’s hard to imagine him gone. His first wife died just a year after childbirth and she raised the twins, never had any kids of her own. They’re old enough to be on their own now. It was just a surprise to see her here, I guess.”

  Pastor could hear the hesitation in his voice, “Was there something else, William? I assume your friend died of natural causes? We aren’t getting any younger, you know.”

  “I think it was a car accident. Nothing suspicious, really. It’s just… I didn’t know she played tennis. I know that’s a little thing, but you think you know someone, then they surprise you. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other; of course, she’s a bit different. I guess Jack hadn’t mentioned that I moved down here, so she was surprised to see me when she got here. It’s probably nothing. But, when you can play tennis from a young age, you play differently, you know?”

  Pastor did know. She had never played. She had taken it in high school gym class, and since she’d never had an affinity for sports involving chasing balls around small spaces, she had never taken to it. She wasn’t fond of sports or games involving chasing balls around big spaces for that matter; she wasn’t a fan of soccer or baseball, either. Maybe kickball. They taught kids how to play kickball while they were still young enough not to care about how well they did. Maybe they should teach all sports at younger ages, she thought briefly. Then again, kids were already overloaded with input. Maybe less was more. She was glad her boys hadn’t had any reserves about being comfortable with who they were. Two of the three had enjoyed most team sports; they had been above average but nothing great. Her thoughts had strayed again. She brushed a loose hair from her face and nodded at Mr. Winthrop, “Yes, I know all about not being able to play.”

  William smiled a little, “Oh, Pastor, that wasn’t what I meant. I meant, if you had learned to play after your kids were gone, it wouldn’t have been the same as if you had played beforehand.” He looked at her f
ace and winced. “Am I being completely insensitive? Perhaps I never married for a reason: no tact.”

  Pastor smiled. “You’re fine. I was agreeing with you, and just needed to think about it. Was she naturally athletic? Maybe tennis just came to her? Would you have known her well enough to know?”

  William thought for a minute, “Lois wasn’t a sports person. The girls were involved in Girl Scouts and all that, but I don’t remember them being involved with anything other than swimming at the beach during the summer. Not that they were fat, they just weren’t jocks. Jack did say he made sure they could defend themselves, so maybe they did martial arts, but no true team sports.”

  “Like me,” Pastor teased him lightly.

  William laughed, “Well, now that YOU say it, that’s it exactly!”

  Pastor sighed a little. “Well, all jokes aside, I would tend to agree with you. People don’t generally change so radically as to become athletic when they’d never been before. At least, not generally. Good luck to you. This game sounds interesting.”

  William chuckled, “You know me, always looking for mysteries that aren’t there. I should just follow Joe’s lead and relax while we play some tennis. It’s a bit creepy having your new friend go after your old friend’s widow though.”

  Pastor nodded. “Relaxing sounds like a good plan. It’s healthier to have fun then to worry. I know you’re so used to overthinking every detail due to your former employment as a…” she trailed off as she spoke, and raised one eyebrow, hoping he would fill in the rest.

  “Nice try, Pastor, I haven’t admitted to anything about my past career yet, and it won’t happen today.” William said with a smile. “I will be back in a bit, I’m looking forward to a nice turkey on rye today, but keep it light, since I won’t be working too hard!”

  Pastor smiled as he walked out and she heard the Hallelujahs again. Somehow she always heard them when William was coming in and out, though when other customers were coming and going, they sometimes faded to the background. She smiled, because while William had not told her about his past career, she now knew that he had a friend named Jack with twin daughters and a second wife, and this friend had recently died in a car accident. A few more questions and she would find out more. Newcomers to the Osprey Creek tennis community were always discussed at book club on Thursday night, which was about 7 hours from now.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Pastor stepped into her condo on the beach, closed the door with a little sigh, and kicked off her shoes in the same step. She was glad her yoga routine kept her flexible. Yes, she might carry some weight around the middle, like many of her age, and especially, her former profession, but she didn’t suffer from the lack of mobility she had watched take hold of many of her peers. She was heading for the balcony to enjoy a few quiet moments listening to the Gulf’s waves, when her phone began ringing in her purse. Puzzled, she turned around, unable to imagine why anyone would call at this hour with anything other than bad news. Years of being always on-call made her fear the phone, she realized.

  Picking up her phone, she was surprised to see William’s name on the caller ID. She answered, the remembered cheerful church voice returning to her easily. “Why, hello again, William. How are you?”

  “Not doing so well here, Pastor. I know it’s late, but would you mind if I stopped in quickly?” William asked, sounding shaken.

  “Of course, the address is….” Pastor began.

  “No need, I’m outside.” William said and hung up. As Pastor stared at the phone, she heard a determined knock at the door. She let in an unusually discombobulated William. “I am so sorry to come at this hour, and in this shape,” William began, “But your book club just went on and on and on, and I didn’t want to be seen, so I thought I would stop here on my way out of town.”

  “What do you mean ‘on your way out of town’? What’s going on?” Pastor asked.

  “You heard a lot of crazy stuff during your years as a minister, right? Strange questions, confessions, guilt, all of that, right?” William asked.

  She nodded. “Of course. All kinds of things. Not much about the human race surprises me. It saddens me, but it doesn’t surprise me. I only want good surprises from now on.” Pastor stopped speaking as she realized she was rambling. William was always the cool, calm, collected one. “You never answered me, what IS GOING ON?” she asked again.

  “I didn’t do it, Pastor, but I know things are going to look like I did. I doubt I could have planted evidence as well as this has been set up. By tomorrow morning they’ll probably interview you. But I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Lois Bell.”

  “Who’s Lois Bell?” Pastor started to ask. “Oh, you mean your friend Jack’s widow? Well of course you didn’t kill her, unless you gave her fatal heatstroke by making her run all over the tennis court today.”

  “No heatstroke. Right now, she’s busy being dead outside my condo.” William answered her.

  “But how? Why? Oh, I found out more about her at book club. I was waiting to tell you tomorrow morning. If you were set up, we can prove you were innocent. Why don’t you turn yourself in, William?” Pastor hated knowing she might be aiding a fugitive, but she also had been around long enough to know when someone was trying to pull the wool over her eyes. William and sincere were almost synonyms. Though she supposed that if he had been a spy, he must have been very good at lying. “You are telling me the truth, aren’t you? I mean, I hate to ask, but you’re right. If I can suspect you, locals won’t look anywhere else. Oh, I wish Andy were here.”

  “Andy?” William asked her, thinking she must be talking about her dead husband for a moment. He must have really upset her if she couldn’t handle being alone with him. This was never his intention. But her husband had been named Charles, and gone by Chuck, according to his research. Andrew was her late father-in-law, who had outlived his son. Andrew Potts was a name well known in the area, having been one of the original condominium builders here. With buildings throughout the Southeast, he had settled right along the Florida-Alabama border, just a few miles away, still on Perdido Key. William knew Pastor was a very wealthy woman, with her share of potential homes. She could have gutted the six-condo building she lived in, remodeled it into a mansion, and led a much more expensive lifestyle, but she chose to remain publicly anonymous. If anyone made a connection between her last name and that of Perdido Key’s developer, she wouldn’t deny it, but she was more likely to shrug off indelicate inquiries.

  “Andy is my youngest. He’s a police officer outside Washington DC, somewhere in Maryland. He has changed precincts a bunch, so I’m not sure exactly where. Silver Spring, maybe?” Pastor shrugged. She couldn’t remember the last time they had spoken on the phone.

  “Are you sure he’s a police officer?” William asked, well aware of the number of intelligence organizations in the environs of DC.

  “Well, he’s in law enforcement. He’s a detective, which was why he was able to wear plainclothes when I visited a couple years ago.” Pastor answered.

  William was intrigued by Pastor’s son. Little did Pastor know, but he knew all about Andy. “You haven’t said much about him before. But if you do talk to him, any set of outside law enforcement eyes on my side would be good. Right now, I have work to do. I’m headed to New Jersey.”

  “New Jersey- but why? Oh, yes, Lois Bell was from New Jersey. That’s one of the things the ladies told me today. Somewhere near the shore, correct? And your friend Jack is buried up there somewhere, right? His girls, did they stay close to home after they graduated? One of the other things I found out about her was that she loved horses and she would go up to Lillian, Alabama and ride on the days she wasn’t winning at tennis. And she’s great at golf. Those are all expensive pastimes. Was your buddy Jack wealthy?” Pastor finally stopped her recounting of her book club’s gossip and looked at William, whose face had lost all its ruddiness.

  “Jack’s first wife died horseback riding. There is no way he would have married an equestr
ian. I remember him telling me that was one of the reasons he thought things would work out so well; Lois loved being a homebody, and horses terrified her.”

  Pastor looked at her friend. “Well, either they are two different women, or someone had a massive mid-life crisis. I understand why you are heading to New Jersey. I don’t think there is anything else important I learned about her, other than she is, or was, a decent card player. I doubt that will help much.”

  William smiled suddenly. “Well, cards and New Jersey are sometimes connected.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I do try to ignore that part of the shore when possible. Speaking of gambling, why do you think her killers left her outside your place? Was it because you played tennis today, or because of your past connection with Jack?”

  William’s smile dimmed as he considered his answer. “That’s one of the questions I’ve been going over and over for the past couple of hours while you and your girlfriends were discussing the latest and greatest books. On the surface, maybe the tennis, but the evidence was nicely planted; I think this is someone who knows about my past. And that, my dear Pastor, is more than I wanted to let you worry your lovely head about. I’d best be on my way, before people realize she’s missing. Whoever did kill her could have already called it in as well. There could be roadblocks on the roads out of town.”

  Pastor considered. “You’d think we would see the lights from here; perhaps the police are being low-key for once. But you already have another way off the island, don’t you? Stay in touch. Godspeed, William!”

  William grinned and tipped his hat at her as he stepped out the doorway with a wink. Pastor was glad he had felt safe enough to tell her. She was sure he felt he could use a local ally. To think her book club had just discussed Mrs. Bell’s oddities, and now she was deceased. She hoped her gentle questioning at book club wasn’t going to lead any suspicions her way. The last thing she needed was to come under scrutiny from the police.