Page 24 of Amazing Grace
“English Breakfast tea, if you please,” the man said with a distinctly British accent.
Grace smiled to herself and stepped over to the counter. “I’d like to buy this gentleman his tea,” she said.
“My dear girl, don’t you think you’re a bit young for an old bloke like me?” Winston smiled at Grace, obviously flattered.
She grinned back. “We have friends in common, sir. Zoe and Emily Callahan?”
“Ah, yes! Delightful girls, both of them. Sweet daughter, too. Lila, is it?”
Grace got the distinct impression he was testing her by misspeaking Zoe and Emily’s daughter’s name. “Lily,” she corrected with a smile.
“That’s right. Lily. Such a charming little girl. All those brunette curls and big brown eyes.”
“She’s a blue-eyed blonde. Youdoknow them, right?”
“Saucy, aren’t you? I do indeed. And now I know you know them as well.” He grinned at her. “What can this old bloke do for you?”
“Come join us at our table and have a chat?”
“Us?”
“My girlfriend and me.”
“Ah. I see. I’d be delighted, particularly since we have friends in common.”
He took his tea in its to-go cup, slipped a paper wrapper around it, and followed Grace to the table where Molly waited.
“I’m Grace Conroy, and this is Molly Sunshine.”
“Very good to meet you both. Sunshine…is that…?”
Molly laughed. “Yes, it’s my real name.”
“I was going to ask if it was the common spelling.” Then he chuckled as well. He removed his coat and folded it neatly over the back of his chair. He unwound his scarf and, laying it on top of his coat, made himself comfortable on the chair.
Grace began. “Mr. Haversham—”
“Oh, my dear, call me ‘Winston.’”
She smiled. “Winston, I suppose you’ve heard about the murder in the hay maze?”
“I did, indeed. It’s all anyone can talk about these past couple of days.” Winston sipped his tea, scrunched his nose, and put it down again. “I knew the man, in fact. The victim. Jeremy Prada. Horrible person. Worked with Albert Herves, who was my investment broker. Seems Jeremy was running a Ponzi scheme, and I got caught up in it. Oh,” he said, waving a dismissive hand, “I know I’m old enough to know better. If something sounds too good to be true, as the old saying goes… But I let greed get the better of me and invested a sizable sum with him. Lost it all, of course.”
“Oh, Winston, I’m so sorry,” Molly said. “That’s awful.”
“Perhaps, but not as awful as what happened to the Prada chap. From what I understand, he was shot but took a while to die.”
Grace tried hard not to let her eyes pop open. Where had Haversham come across that bit of information? The police hadn’t released the method of the murder. They were waiting on the autopsy. How would Haversham know Jeremy was shot and took time to die…unless he was there.
“Is that what people are saying?”
“Oh, yes. That and so much more. If one listens to the rumors, then he was also bludgeoned to death. Hung. Stabbed. Set on fire. Poisoned.” Haversham chuckled. “The poor boy died more gruesome deaths than Rasputin.”
Grace bit her lower lip. Was Haversham telling the truth? Or simply trying to cover up a slip of the lip? She couldn’t tell.
Molly glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Grace, we need to go. I need to Uber to the field and pick up my truck, and then we need to shop for groceries. We promised to make dinner tonight for Emma and Zoe.”
“Oh. Oh, yes, that’s right.” She turned to Haversham. “It was so nice to meet you, Winston. I hope we can have tea again sometime soon.”