“He did,” Timothy said with a nod. “It was an aggressive form of Parkinson’s disease and he became reclusive. She cared for him and he paid her well.”
“Did Miss Larkin care for him until he died?”
“Yes, she did. News travels fast, especially about people who once had a large audience. Everybody wants to know every little detail. I heard that she inherited jewelry that had belonged to his mother, as well as a substantial financial gift.”
Daisy finally felt as if she was getting somewhere. She smiled and couldn’t help beaming at Timothy. “This information helps me so much. I don’t know if it will have any relevance to the investigation, but I hope it does.”
“You say you own a tea garden in Pennsylvania?”
“I do. My aunt and I run it together.”
“What’s your favorite kind of tea?” His hazel eyes twinkled as he asked.
“I’d have to say that oolong is my favorite.”
“A woman after my own heart. I’d ask you in for a cuppa, but I doubt if you’d accept. Am I right?”
She liked this man and felt he was an old-school gentleman. “If the weather was nicer, I’d sit out here on your stoop and have a cup with you. I don’t think I should come inside. But it was a pleasure to meet you. I’m going to catch a train back to Willow Creek and try to do something with the information you gave me.” She took a business card from her pocket. “How about if you hold on to this and, if you remember anything else, could you give me a call?”
“Certainly. And if you have more questions, feel free to call me.”
Taking her phone from her pocket, she tapped in his number as he gave it to her. After they said their good-byes and Daisy walked down the street to hail a cab, she wished she had gone inside and had tea with Timothy. It might have been a very interesting experience.
Chapter Twenty
All Daisy wanted to do when she returned home from New York was crash. Jazzi was staying overnight with a friend, but Daisy felt the need to check on Vi and Sammy. She didn’t want to miss anything with Vi that, if watchful, she could catch. Preventing her daughter from going into a downward spiral was her main objective. Hence, texts during the day and company when Vi needed it.
So as she drove up the road to the garage and pulled inside, she noticed Iris’s car. A short visit could reassure her all was well.
A half hour later, she’d convinced herself that Vi was doing much better. Her daughter wore a smile more than she didn’t . . . and it was genuine. After Foster came home, Iris and Daisy decided to leave. All Daisy could think about was a warm bath and bed.
As soon as Iris exited the garage with Daisy, she said, “Do you mind if I come over to the house for a bit? There’s something I want to talk to you about . . . something I should have talked to you about before now.”
Whatever did Iris have on her mind? Daisy had no idea. Iris walked beside Daisy to the house. After Daisy unlocked the door, she deactivated the security alarm. Inside, she turned on the wagon-wheel ceiling light, and both Marjoram and Pepper blinked at her from the sofa where they’d pulled the afghan from the back and nestled in it.
Daisy and Iris removed their jackets. Daisy took her aunt’s as well as hers to the closet and hung both of them inside. Her aunt looked so serious Daisy didn’t know what to think.
“A cup of tea?” she asked her aunt.
Iris responded with a bit of a smile. “Always.”
Crossing to the kitchen, Daisy pulled out a tin of Earl Grey. She knew her aunt liked it, especially in the evening. They knew each other so well. They always had. Daisy could remember many cups of tea with her aunt as she was growing up when she confided things she wouldn’t confide in anyone else, not even her dad.
Taking a plate of whoopie pies from the refrigerator, with their chocolate cookie outside and their cream cheese whipped center, she set them on the table while the tea brewed. Iris came over to the island and pulled out a stool.
Her aunt took her tea with a spoonful of honey. Daisy plucked the jar of wildflower honey from the cupboard and set it on the table. There were no pretensions between her and her aunt. Iris would spoon it out from the jar and be happy doing it.
At the cupboard again, Daisy found an antique aqua iridescent gilt pedestal teacup and saucer. For her aunt, she chose a vintage Royal Albert teacup and saucer with tea roses in yellow painted on the cup and dish. She and her aunt appreciated porcelain and china, colors and textures, gilt and silver. Maybe Daisy was just postponing the inevitable, but there was no reason they couldn’t have a calming snack while they talked.
Daisy took her seat and pushed the honey jar toward her aunt. “I’ve had many serious conversations at this island. Your demeanor and tone of voice suggest this might be one of them.”
“It is serious,” her aunt confessed as she opened the jar of honey, dipped a spoon inside, and then slid it into her cup of tea. She stirred absently.
Daisy had chosen a slice of lemon to use with her tea. She squeezed the slice with her fingers, wiped them on a napkin, and waited.
“I should have brought this up with you a long time ago. Actually, your mother should have talked to you about it.”
Daisy felt her brow crinkle. “Is this a family secret?”
“I’m not sure you can call it a secret, but it’s something we all went through together.”
Puzzled again, Daisy shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
Iris took a sip of her tea as if she needed a
