A Sip of Revenge: Tea Room Cozy Mysteries, #1

By Elodie Hart

Tea Room Cozy Mysteries - Book 1

 

A tea room, a bridezilla and a murder. Peaceful Cottage Grove just became a little more exciting…and a lot more deadly.

 

All Quinn Sanderson wanted to do was run her tea room in peace and provide others with a true tea experience. When a bridal party visits her tea room for afternoon tea and the bride ends up dead, Quinn finds herself bound and determined to solve the case. Her task isn't easy, though, considering almost everyone had a reason to want the bride dead and the wedding party leaves in a week. It doesn't help any that her first love shows back up in town to wreak havoc with her heart. All she has to do is find the killer before time runs out and navigate the tricky waters of first love in her small town.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elodie Hart
• Release date: Apr 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798986202105

Elodie Hart

Elodie Hart was raised on old detective movies and mystery books. She loves a good puzzle (literally and figuratively), cuddling with dogs, and exploring small towns. The Tea Room Cozy Mystery Series is the first of many books she’ll write.

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Elodie Hart

A Sip of Revenge

Copyright © 2022 by Elodie Hart

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

First edition

ISBN: 979-8-9862021-0-5

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Chapter 1

Tea and mayhem were currently on the menu. Tea for the guests and mayhem for Quinn Sanderson. As she looked over her schedule for the day, she knew with absolute certainty that the tea room would be at maximum capacity, which meant she had to run full steam ahead with no distractions.

Quinn snorted at that thought and knew it was an unlikely scenario. There were always distractions at the tea room, usually in the form of Macy showing up to snatch a cookie.

Unable to hold back her smile, Quinn remembered the day three years ago when she and her best friend, Macy Hardgrave, bought the old Manor House the town centered around and turned it into the Manor House B&B and The Grand Tea Room.

A real dream come true, she whispered as she moved from the front of the tea room to the large, industrial kitchen at the back where all the magic happened.

Scones, mini cakes, finger sandwiches, and all other tea delights were whipped up on a daily basis in the kitchen. With the full schedule of customers that day, as with every Friday, she would need to bake a lot. The one thing she hated most was not having enough food for her customers to enjoy. So far, that hadn’t been an issue and she wasn’t going to let something like a busy schedule make it an issue today.

Without wasting any time, Quinn mixed up a few batches of muffins to take to the breakfast room of the B&B. The manor house was large enough to have a dining room where the guests could enjoy homemade cooking. Quinn teamed up with the B&B’s head cook to help out with breakfast sometimes. Muffins and croissants, usually.

Today, it was muffins. Blueberry, lemon, and cranberry orange muffins, to be exact. Since her recipe was the same for all three types of muffins, except for the fruity components, she got them in and out of the oven in half an hour. A quick glance at the clock told Quinn the first guests would be in the breakfast room soon, which meant warm, fresh-out-of-the-oven muffins for the early birds.

After she arranged the muffins in wicker baskets with red and white checkered cloths, Quinn put them on a little rolling cart and pushed it over the path that connected the B&B with the tea room. Quinn and Macy wanted to make visits easier during their hectic workdays, so they asked the contractors to create a pathway that linked the main mansion with the old keeper’s cottage. From there, all she had to do was enter the side door in the kitchen of the B&B.

Ta-da! I bring you fresh muffins this morning, Lucy! Quinn sang out as she entered the bright and sunny kitchen.

A very empty kitchen.

Where is everyone? Quinn muttered to herself as she looked around.

She’d even made a grand entrance and nobody saw it.

Quinn unloaded the cart and snatched one of the cranberry orange muffins to nibble on while she waited. A gasp of surprise caught her off guard and mid-bite.

Must you sneak up on a body like that? Lucy called out from the kitchen doorway with her hand pressed against her ample bosom in surprise.

Lucy Davenport was a short, portly middle-aged woman and the head honcho of the Manor House B&B kitchen. She always tucked her graying hair up into a bun on top of her head and wore a floral apron over her equally floral knee-length dress. For as long as she could remember, Quinn had never seen Lucy in anything other than a floral dress. The current one was decorated with pink flowers.

I was in here first, Quinn said in amusement.

I suppose you were. But this is my kitchen so you are the intruder, Lucy said as she pointed an accusatory finger at Quinn in good humor.

I guess that means you don’t want all the muffins I slaved away for this morning?

Muffins? What kind of muffins? Do I smell lemon?

Quinn laughed at Lucy’s exaggerated sniff and sat down at the breakfast nook.

Of course. Lemon, blueberry, and cranberry orange. Still warm from the oven.

You’re an angel on earth, my dear.

I know it, too, Quinn said and gave Lucy a wink. Have you seen Macy yet?

Right here, said a voice from behind Quinn as Macy walked in and gave her a quick hug.

Macy was the face of the B&B and the person who ran it. Apart from the day-to-day operations, Macy also took care of the event side of things, helping brides have romantic weddings in the back garden or the front lawn that overlooked the ocean and hosting get-togethers for other groups. And Quinn ran the tea room next door. Together, they were a cornerstone of their artsy, quirky town on the rugged California coastline just south of San Francisco.

Of course, the townspeople just called them the three musketeers along with their detective friend, Henry Danvers. A nickname they were immensely proud of, even if they were all thirty years old.

How is the bridal party settling in? Quinn asked as she scooted over in the booth to make room for Macy in a bright pink power pantsuit.

At 5 feet 9 inches tall, Macy’s height helped her command any room she walked into. On top of that, Macy could rock a power suit like no one else Quinn knew.

They seem to be okay. The bride is a little strange, though, Macy mumbled as she shoved half a blueberry muffin into her mouth, yet somehow avoided smearing her perfectly painted pink lipstick.

Strange?

You’ll see, Quinn. The bride quadruple checks everything and doesn’t trust anyone to do their given tasks, so it’s taking much longer to get things done. Even in the planning stages I was ready to tear my hair out.

I saw her peering out the windows while they were checking in, like she was looking to make sure no one followed them or something. It gave me the creeps, Lucy said as she shivered.

I feel like the whole group is paranoid about something. The stepmother and bridesmaids don’t seem to help any. Or they gave up helping long ago. I don’t know. There’s just something off about the whole group. Maybe that’s just what socialites from the city are like, Macy said with a shrug as she picked up a cranberry orange muffin.

They booked the whole tea room, Quinn announced.

What? The whole tea room? For just five people? On a Friday afternoon?

I thought it was strange, but when I called to confirm with the bride, she sounded anxious and kept double and triple checking. She even bought out all the other reservations, just to make sure the tea room would be all theirs.

Everyone was quiet until Macy said, Well, just add it to the list of other strange things that come with this particular group of guests.

Quinn didn’t know what to make of that, so she asked, How long are they here for?

A week. The wedding is on Sunday and the happy couple leave on Monday, but the others leave next Friday.

We can do it. After all, we’re part of the three musketeers!

Well, we’ll be two very tired musketeers by next weekend.

If I make cinnamon rolls and bring them over will that make it better? Quinn asked as she rubbed Macy’s shoulder in comfort.

Definitely. Bring on the calories.

That’s the spirit!

You’d better eat your breakfast, or you’ll be two very hungry musketeers, Lucy said sternly.

Yes, ma’am! Macy and Quinn cheered together and gave little salutes.

What’s all the commotion in here? demanded a brusque voice.

You’re just in time for breakfast and muffins, Miss Ophelia, Quinn said.

To Quinn’s way of thinking, breakfast and muffins were separate entities.

Ophelia Brooks was the no-nonsense head housekeeper Macy hired before all the construction was completed on the B&B. Quinn knew for a fact Ophelia hadn’t even filled out an application – just marched right up to Macy and announced her new job. Macy was too flustered to do anything. Since she’d known Miss Ophelia forever, there was no reason to say no.

A matronly woman if ever there were one, Ophelia was also as fierce and commanding as a drill sergeant. The other maids and staff called Ophelia Sarge behind her back. Not that Miss Ophelia didn’t know about it. A couple months after they opened, Quinn overheard someone say that about Miss Ophelia and almost choked on a muffin when Miss Ophelia smiled to herself after the maids passed her in the hallway.

Hmph. I’ve yet to meet one of your muffins I didn’t like. One of each, please and thank you, said Ophelia as she sat down next to Lucy.

As you wish, my lady, Quinn said and served up the muffins.

Now finish your breakfast or none of you will get any work done.

Another chorus of yes, ma’am rang out in the kitchen as Macy and Quinn scarfed down the generous portions of scrambled eggs with a light sprinkling of cheese, two pieces of toast each, and a side bowl of various fruits that Lucy prepared for them.

Quinn knew her day was just getting started and she needed every bit of energy if the bridal party was as interesting as Macy said. As she walked back to the tea room, Quinn looked up at the bright blue April sky without a cloud in sight and basked in the early morning sunshine. The marine layer already dissipated, which was odd for this time of year, but Quinn wouldn’t argue with the weather. She knew better.

As she looked over at the B&B, Quinn saw a woman watching her from the third story window that faced the back garden where Quinn stood. Other than long, blonde hair, Quinn couldn’t make out any features before the woman let the curtain drop back into place and she disappeared from Quinn’s sight.

A sudden shiver crawled down Quinn’s spine and she felt the urge to be anywhere but where she was. Frozen at the door of the tea room’s kitchen, Quinn realized the woman must be the strange bride Macy warned her about. She shivered again and ducked inside.

Once she was back in the relative safety of the tea room, Quinn laughed at how ridiculous she acted.

It’s not like it was a ghost, she muttered to herself as she got back to work.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong and it had to do with the mysterious bride in the window.

* * *

As soon as Quinn opened the tea room for business, the first guests arrived. At 10 o’clock on the dot, the Ladies’ Coalition marched in, led by Quinn’s aunt, Belladonna Bella Sanderson. No one in town was entirely sure what the coalition did, but everyone knew they had been around since the founding of the town, just with different geriatric women every generation.

Some thought they were just the local group of busybodies. Others believed they were a secret society that protected the town. When she was ten years old, Quinn asked Aunt Bella about it and hoped they were a secret society just for the thrill of it. Aunt Bella laughed until she cried and said, It’s just a book club.

Quinn still wasn’t entirely convinced that’s all the Ladies’ Coalition was, but until she found evidence to the contrary she had to accept her aunt’s words as truth.

Twice a month, the Ladies’ Coalition came to the tea room for their book club. They would knit in between courses and by now Quinn had enough tea cozies to keep every single teapot and teacup warm, plus extra for home.

Morning, Aunt Bella. Ready for your tea? Quinn asked as she smiled at her aunt with fondness.

Aunt Bella’s riotous red hair and dark brown eyes were a perfect match with Quinn’s, and she knew that gave away their family ties.

And those tasty finger sandwiches, too, Aunt Bella said with a sly wink at Quinn with a secret hand gesture they came up with years ago that meant, add a few more on the side just for good measure.

Quinn winked back. Is it marauding pirates today or Scots in kilts?

Aunt Bella leaned closer. If Loretta had her way, we’d always read about scantily clad Scots. No, this time we settled for a good, old-fashioned mystery. We’re going to read through the Hercule Poirot books by Agatha Christie.

All of them?

Isn’t it glorious?

I’ll say. At the very least, it’ll keep you busy for a while.

Aunt Bella had affection for old mysteries. She raised Quinn on everything from Agatha Christie novels to Nancy Drew. When Quinn’s parents died, Aunt Bella became her sole guardian but didn’t know what to do with a ten-year-old girl. Fortunately, they bonded and healed over books and baking.

Quinn gave them all a few minutes to pick out the hats they wanted to wear. When she’d opened her tea room, Quinn wanted to display the items she’d collected over the years. A light bulb went off in Quinn’s mind when a customer asked to wear one of the hats during her reservation. Now, it was a mainstay of the tea room.

Alright, ladies. Are you armed? Quinn called out to the Ladies’ Coalition members.

All six of them in dresses from the downright boring and simple to the over the top and extravagant, raised their hats and fascinators in the air and cheered.

Excellent. Follow me and we’ll begin serving your tea, Quinn said as she smiled at their excitement and general good cheer.

As she walked through the main tea room, Quinn couldn’t help but smile as she took in the classy decor and elegantly hung photos of her travels around the world. The white wainscoting and Carolina blue walls paired with the vintage oak tables carefully decorated with matching teacups, saucers and teapots for the ultimate tea experience. She could switch out the square tables with round ones in storage if a reservation called for it, and bring in larger tables if needed. But for the most part, the main tea room held eight tables in total, five that could seat four guests and three that could seat two.

When she set up shop in the old keeper’s cottage three years ago, it was dark and dreary. So she did a little renovation and had the builders put in French doors along the length of the building that faced the side street. As a corner lot on the mansion’s property, there was a rose garden the French doors opened out on and let in an abundance of natural light, which brightened up the space and made it more welcoming. Off of the main tea room, she’d also had the contractors add onto the existing building to create a conservatory room with a glass ceiling and glass walls. The conservatory room held three tables that seated four people and three tables that seated two people.

She led the way to the grand salon at the back of the tea room, a private room she used for large or special parties. A round table was set up to comfortably seat six