Page 29 of Justice & Liberty

She sat back in her chair with a sigh, dropping the teacup into its saucer. “Ephraim Collins died last night. And unfortunately, no one in this town has anything better to do than gossip about what might have happened to cause it.”

I scowled at that. “But . . . like you said, he was ninety. Or . . . something like that.”

Ephraim had been Sabrina’s grandfather. He’d been a horrible, cantankerous old man for as long as I’d been alive. Sabrina’s parents had borrowed money from him to open thecoffee shop, and he’d held it over them right up until their deaths.

Then, when Sabrina had turned eighteen and wanted to take over the shop, he’d done the same to her. Obliquely promising to leave her the shop in his will, but only if she bowed to his every whim in the meantime.

Frankly, while I would never assume that adorable ray of sunshine Sabrina would be involved in a murder, I also wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. Her grandfather was eminently murderable.

Hunter, not seeming put off by my sudden silence at all, leaned in and put a hand atop mine. “Hey, Pat Parker may be tired, and way past ready for retirement, but he’s a good man. He’s not going to just let some gossips push a murder charge onto Sabrina.”

The sheriff. Of course Hunter knew him.

She’d been in “the agency,” whatever that was.

Still, I sighed and nodded, letting her conviction convince me. Surely the wheels of justice wouldn’t railroad someone as innocent and sweet as Sabrina into jail for a crime she couldn’t possibly have committed.

That couldn’t happen.

15

As hesitant asI’d been to leave the coffee shop, I’d had a plan for the day, and I couldn’t just ignore it because I was worried about Sabrina and any investigation into her grandfather’s death.

Besides, it wasn’t as though sitting there in the coffee shop worrying actually helped anyone.

So I headed back over to Tea, Book and Candle with my coffee, ignoring the lack of pastry. I’d had that bagel before leaving the house, after all.

At nine sharp, I flipped the lights on and turned the neon open sign in the window on. Then I remembered the “closed till further notice” paper on the door and rushed to take it down, as though people wouldn’t be able to tell that it was no longer valid when the open sign was on.

Maybe I’d put it up again at the end of the day. We’d have to see how things went. If running the shop was as simple as I remembered, well...maybe I’d be okay.

Tanya’s complaints about me just going with the flow rose up in my mind, as though to remind me of my failings.

Was it so bad, to let the world lead you?

I’d always said before that it had never led me wrong, so why not trust in the universe? But well...Tanya’s existence in my life proved that theory incorrect. Sometimes the world did lead you wrong, and you had to either make a better choice or suffer a cheating girlfriend.

I spent the first half hour after the store opened cutting the two teas I had made with equal amounts of non-magic tea, hoping that would be enough to fix its excessive potency. The front bell rang just as I was setting the second container back on the shelf, and we were in business.

Literally.

As though floodgates had opened, I wasn’t alone in the store again for the rest of the morning.

Three hours later, when the last person cleared out, I sat down in one of the chairs next to the book section with a sigh. My feet were killing me, and I was definitely going to be taking some more of that willow bark tea home with me.

That was, if we had any left by the end of the day. I’d already sold almost half of it.

It was a Thursday, for fuck’s sake, and barely noon. Who was out shopping?

All of South Liberty and apparently half of Iowa City, given the constant stream of customers.

Hopefully it was just a glut of people who had been waiting for the store to open, or who were curious about Mom’s passing—though I hadn’t been asked any questions about that, only offered condolences by a few people I knew from my childhood. Either way, if the shop kept being that busy, I was going to have to hire someone to work with me, because this was too much.

I ran a quick total on the point of sale device, and found that I’d made over five hundred dollars. Yeah, if that kept up, I would even be able to afford to hire someone. So, two someones, if I wasn’t going to run the shop myself.

When my cell phone rang just as the door opened and more people came in, I sighed. Still, I checked the screen and found a local number I didn’t immediately know, so I picked up. “Jaycie Jones.”

“Miss Abernathy,” came the somewhat tremulous ancient voice of Martin Hayes, completely ignoring how I’d answered the phone. “I’m sorry to bother you, but we need to move forward with Mrs. Abernathy’s estate. If you’ve signed the papers?”

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