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“That makes sense. It’d be hell jogging in those.”
“Such a smart mouth for a handsome boy. Luckily I love your dog; he’s your redeeming feature.”
“Tell me you didn’t just open that door and let him inside.”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t just slip him a biscuit either, right?”
“No.”
“So who’s crunching then?”
“Sarah.”
He laughed, because it was obviously Buzz. “This town is gonna make him fat.”
“We wouldn’t do that, would we, sweetie?”
“Now put him outside before he gets hair everywhere.”
They grumbled, but he heard the doorbell seconds later. He then heard the sisters say hello to customers.
Tea Total Tea Shop was an odd thing to have in a Colorado mountain town, and yet it worked. The sisters had been here for years, immigrating when they were in their twenties, to look after their brother’s child after he was killed in a car accident. After teaching the town’s children to conjugate verbs—a major fail on his part—they’d started the tea rooms, where people could get homemade scones, crumpets, and any kind of tea they wanted... and in Joe’s case, plenty he didn’t.
“Oh now, this is a lovely sight.”
“What’s a lovely sight?” Joe turned his head, but couldn’t see what Miss Marla was looking at.
“Here’s our Maggie, and she’s brought Bailey Jones with her, Joe. Not sure if you remember her. Lived here years ago, and Sarah taught her to play the piano. She went on to be a famous concert pianist.” She whispered the words to him, Joe guessed so Bailey couldn’t hear.
“We done here then?” He wanted the blindfold off, wanted to look at Bailey. Two days she’d been back, and he hadn’t seen her again until now... or not, as the current case may be.
“You just hold on there, Joe. Sarah’s bringing your tea, and there is no way you will get this one right.” She patted his shoulder.
“Morning, Miss Marla, Miss Sarah. Hey, Joe, you tasting again?” Maggie arrived first, her voice bright and cheery.
“I just came in for a scone, Maggs, and they got me in the chair.”
“They’re persuasive, but here’s the thing, Joe. If you gave in and got some of the tests wrong, they’d ease up on you.”
“You know I can’t do that, Maggs. I have standards.” He listened for another set of footsteps, his other senses on high alert for when Bailey drew near.
“You remember Bailey, Joe?”
“Sure. Hey, Bailey, how you doing?” He reached for the blindfold, but a hand slapped it away.
“Introductions can wait. Here it is, Joe. I bet you can’t tell me what it is.”
“What’s he doing?”
The words came from Bailey, as did the scent that settled around him. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and totally different from the one she’d had as a thirteen-year-old.
He took the cup Miss Marla put in his hands and sipped, while behind him Maggs explained what was going on to Bailey.
They’d been doing this for three years now. He always guessed right, and it infuriated the sisters. So much so that it had become a weekly ritual. He tasted what they put before him, and always guessed right. Okay, maybe he’d missed one or two, but for the most he got it bang on.
“You really didn’t try too hard with this one, ladies,” Joe said, lowering the cup to its pretty pink saucer. “Marshmallow root, lemon balm, rose hips, with a hint of cinnamon. No, wait.” He held up a hand as Miss Marla started cackling. “There’s lemon in there too.”
