Page 7 of A Spot of Tea
“Five months ago, a red car with damage to the rear bumper was spotted doing donuts on the campsites at San Juan County Park. The last four digits of the license plate were 5824.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And you know this how?”
“It was in the papers.” She nodded at the window overlooking the small parking lot. “You’ll never believe the license plate on the car those kids were driving.”
“A red car with damage to the bumper and a plate with the last four digits being 5284?”
“5824,” she corrected. “There was no damage to the bumper, but the color was slightly different than the rest of the car, which could mean nothing. But I’ve got a feeling it does mean something.”
He sat back, mouth dropped open. “Did you call the police on those kids?”
A grin spread on her face. “Just Chief Hank. He’s a friend of Granny’s. He’ll probably pull them over and give them a stern talking-to. Scare the daylights out of them.” She laughed. “I’ll call it even.”
Even.
Joey had some things he’d like to erase from his record like that. “It’s impressive you remembered the license plate.”
“I have a good memory.” She shrugged. “Let me know if you have any questions about the menu. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She glided back through the swinging door as he sat, staring. The tearoom smelled of bergamot and vanilla. The menu was thick, each page a wall of text about the qualities of the tea listed.
He forced his eyes onto the page.Hot Cinnamon Spice, Harney and Sons – black tea, orange peel, cinnamon, cloves.
“Ready to order?”
He startled. Eliza was hovering just above him. “Uh, sure. I’ll have a pot of this.”
“The hot cinnamon spice? That is one of my absolute favorite teas. It’s super sweet but doesn’t have any sugar.”
“How’s that possible?”
She looked him dead in the eyes, her eyes round, her lips flat. “It’s magic. Tea is magic.”
He cracked a smile. “You’re funny, you know that?”
“That’s what we offer here. Five-star jokes, all day long.” She tilted her head. “Anything else for you?”
“Yeah.” He leaned forward, his hands resting on the table. “I want you to help me with something.”
Eliza tucked the menu under her arm. “Okay.”
“Help me find the bank robber.”
She raised an eyebrow. “How about I get your tea and—”
“I’m serious. Did you hear about the reward?”
She shook her head.
He went on. “One hundred thousand dollars to whoever can help catch him. We could split it.”
“I think you’re confused about my skill set,” she said. “I make tea. And cupcakes. Do you want a cupcake?”
That had to be the vanilla he’d smelled. Of course he wanted one, but… “This guy has robbed thirteen banks and they can’t catch him. You’re the only one who talked to him. You must remember something about him with that great memory of yours.”
She sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Youjustsolved that vandalism case,” he added. “Listen, I’ve got a plane.”
