Murder Under the Tree Read Free Page A

always watched out for his allergy when Les came in. I do use them in some of my food, but I took extra care with what I made for the Christmas Tea. I'm always careful with food allergies.”
    Hmm. No nuts used by the patisserie either at the tea.
    “So what can I get you?”
    I wondered if they had valium or xanax on the menu. “Oh...the fudge truffle cheesecake and the Scottish afternoon tea,” I said.
    “Same here,” said Deirdre.
    Marissa's bakery assistant came into the room. “Marissa, there's a call for you. It's the police.”
    “Okay, tell them I'll be right there,” Marissa said. The assistant left the room. “I wonder what that's about? Here are some raspberry macarons until I get back with your order.” She started walking away, then turned around with a smile. “On the house.”
    “Thanks, Marissa,” we both said, smiling back.
    I tried to focus on something other than what had just happened at Hawthorne Hills. I felt unnerved about the entire situation. There was a lot going on this week and I couldn't dwell on Les. I bit into the macaron. The cookies enclosed a whipped raspberry cream that concealed a raspberry compote.
    “Are we still on for painting my shop after Christmas?”
    I paused for a couple of seconds. The last thing I wanted to do this week was paint. “Deirdre, I'm not sure how I am going to get through the night, picking out our Christmas tree with Phil, let alone plan for later in the week. I can't think that far ahead right now. Can we talk about this after Christmas?”
    “I'm anxious to get started. I'm going with the saffron color I showed you.”
    “The color's beautiful. Nice and warm—”
    Deirdre looked into the fire. “Like a slow fire giving its extra energy to the earth.”
    I tried to not raised my eyebrows, but some things are involuntary. Colors were important to Deirdre. She was into feng shui. Her entire home was arranged according to its principles for improving positive energy flow. She had told me that certain colors brought about a power balance to an area.
    “We can hardly move in our sunroom at home,” she continued. “I've been making more wreaths for the shop. After the painting is done, I'd love to start moving things over to the shop.”
    Deirdre was an organic gardener. During the growing season, she had large, raised flower gardens, vegetable, and herb beds in her huge backyard. Her sunroom was filled with baskets of dried herbs and flowers she used for making wreaths, satchets, salves, and poultices. She planned a large and varied inventory for her new shop. An ambitious project.
    “You can use our minivan to move your stock,” I offered, finishing the last of my macaron. “We'll take out the seats.” Here I just said I didn't want to talk about painting Deirdre's shop and I'm going along with Deirdre. Oh well...what are friends for?
    Marissa came over with our tea and cheesecake. “That was Chief Kirk on the phone. He said some guy came up with the crazy notion that Les was murdered. He wanted to know exactly which foods the patisserie provided for the tea.”
    My mouth fell open. “Murdered?” I repeated.
    “Kirk laughed and said, 'What? In Sudbury Falls?' He's probably just covering all the bases. Anyway, are you both ready for Christmas?”
    “No,” Deirdre said. “I still have some shopping to do.”
    “I'm pretty much done. We're picking out our tree later today,” I said, pouring our tea. “Andrew and Will will be home Tuesday or Wednesday. I want everything done by then.”
    “Tuesday evening is Elizabeth's Christmas party.”
    After spooning in two sugars, I cradled the warm cup of tea in my hands. “Elizabeth said if they were home, they should come as well. My guess is that they'll have plans with their friends that night.” I took a sip of the tea.
    The chimes on the door sounded. “Enjoy!” Marissa left.
    “Kay, how about going shopping tomorrow?” Deirdre asked. “It would be fun to see the windows displays. I