Read Online A Fatal Twist of Lemon by Patrice Greenwood - Free Book Online Page B

have private tea with a friend.
    â€œHave a seat,” I said, taking a chair.
    Vi set down the basket and sat in the other chair, folding her hands on her knees.  Her posture was stiff, leaning forward as if she expected to have to jump up at any moment.
    â€œDid you get any sleep?” I asked gently.
    She gave a little, surprised laugh and met my gaze. “Not much.”
    â€œMe neither.”
    â€œIt’s so awful. I kept seeing her face.”
    I nodded. I’d had my own nightmares, including one where I’d wandered through the tearoom, finding my guests one by one, each dead. I shook the memory away.
    â€œIt’s a slow day,” I said. “You could go home.”
    â€œBut that would leave only Dee serving!”
    â€œI can pitch in if need be.”
    She sat up straighter and shook her head. “I won’t abandon you. It wouldn’t be right.”
    â€œI’d much rather have you go now and be rested for tomorrow. And by the way, thank you for not quitting.”
    She surprised me by bursting into tears. I handed her my handkerchief and waited for the storm to subside, which it did quickly. I’d indulged in a few tears myself, the night before.
    â€œYou’ve worked so hard for this,” she said, wiping at her cheeks.
    â€œSo have you. So has all the staff.”
    â€œAnd you made such a wonderful p-place, and beautiful and everything. I love the tearoom!”
    â€œThank you,” I said, smiling.
    â€œAnd then this happens!”
    I swallowed. “It’s hard right now, but we’ll get through it. Everything we worked for is still here.”
    I knew I was trying to convince myself as well as Vi. She gave a couple more sniffs and dabbed at her face.
    â€œIs my makeup ruined?”
    â€œNo. Just needs a little tidying.”
    She nodded, dabbing beneath her eyes, then heaved a sigh. “I’m all right.”
    â€œYou sure? It really would be fine for you to take the day off. My aunt is here.”
    She sat gazing out of the window at the street below, blinking. “No, I’m okay. Thanks, though.”
    A distant rumble of thunder made me glance out the window. The sky to the west was mostly clear, but our weather usually formed over the mountains to the east.
    â€œHave you heard back from the Opera?”
    Vi shook her head. “Not yet, but it should be soon. Rehearsals start in May, they told me.”
    â€œLet me know when you find out the schedule. We’ll adjust your hours as needed.”
    She smiled. “Thanks. It’s great of you to put up with the uncertainty. You’re the best boss ever.”
    I felt myself blushing. “Well, I did music in college. I know how crazy it can be.”
    Vi stood, smoothed her apron, and picked up the basket of samplers. She looked at the crumpled handkerchief in her hand.
    â€œI’ll take that,” I said, standing.
    She handed it to me with a last, small sniff. “Thanks, Ms. Rosings.”
    â€œWhy don’t you call me Ellen. It’s not so stiff.”
    She looked at me, blue eyes wide. “Really?”
    â€œYes. You can pass that along to the others.”
    She smiled, and caught me in a quick around-the-shoulders hug. “Thanks, Ellen!”
    I fetched a fresh handkerchief from my suite, then returned to the gift shop to close out the cash register, which I should have done the previous night but had forgotten. I pulled the large bills and the checks, printed out the credit card transactions, and put everything into a bank bag for Kris. I was about to take it upstairs when a loud knocking on the front door made me look up.
    â€œDrat. I bet it’s the press.”
    â€œI’ll go look,” said Nat, who had been straightening the gift shop merchandise. She went out and came back right away.
    â€œIt’s just one woman,” Nat said. “No cameras. Might be a relative of Sylvia’s—she’s dressed in