The Ginseng Conspiracy (A Kay Driscoll Mystery) by Susan Bernhardt Page A

authorities. The only thing left to do is to explore what happened to Sherman ourselves.”
    “Ourselves? You mean, all of us?” Deirdre said.
    “I could use your assistance with this. It might be a risky undertaking and could get dangerous. These people are willing to do terrible things. Look what happened to Sherman.”
    I looked up and saw Marissa standing right by us with a tray of small shell-shaped cakes. Damn!
    “Here are the madeleines. I forgot to ask you what you all wanted to drink.”
    The three of us looked at each other.
    “Any kind of strong black tea, Marissa. Surprise me,” I said. “Thanks.”
    “Chai spice for me,” Deirdre said.
    “A pot of the ginseng,” Elizabeth said. Marissa headed back to the kitchen.
    “How long was Marissa standing there?” I asked after she left.
    “It couldn't have been more than a few seconds. I was so intent on what you were saying that I didn’t even see her come up,” Deirdre said.
    “I doubt she heard much,” Elizabeth said. “Marissa hears lots of conversations all day long. No doubt it goes in one ear and out the other. Besides, even if she did hear anything, she wouldn’t have a great business if she gossiped with everyone about what she had heard in the patisserie.”
    “We need to be more careful,” I said.
    “Kay, did you notice Marissa limping?” Elizabeth asked.
    I sat upright. Limping, like the person the girls had seen in the alley the night of the Ball. Carrying Sherman. “I didn't.”
    “I'd like to help out,” Deirdre said. “I'm with you all the way. I already have some great ideas.”
    Elizabeth grimaced and rolled her eyes at Deirdre. “I’m in also. I think it will be fun, but you're right that we have to be discrete, just the two—sorry Deirdre—I mean three of us.” Elizabeth winked. “We don't know who's all involved.”
    Deirdre twisted her mouth and crossed her arms. “ Très amusante. ”
    I didn't know if this was going to work with the two of them bickering. It might not be worth it. “Speaking of who is involved, Deirdre, would you and Elizabeth make a list of names of everyone you remember greeting Saturday evening at the Ball? What time did you get there?”
    “Seven o'clock. It'll be a long list, but we can try,” she said.
    “That'll be a big help. Mary Ann, Sherman’s widow, is also suspicious about Sherman’s official cause of death. I don't know how much she needs to be involved, but she can supply information as to what she finds in Sherman's office at school and at home.”
    “Does she know what you saw?” Deirdre asked.
    “No.”
    “The autopsy said he died from drowning, but he was pretty lifeless early Saturday evening, it sounds like,” Elizabeth said. “He must have been drugged when he ended up in the water.”
    Marissa returned. She was limping. She put our tea and desserts down on the low coffee table in front of us.
    “Thanks, Marissa. Everything looks scrumptious,” I said. “We noticed you're limping. What happened?”
    “The night of the Halloween Ball, I was leaving the patisserie. It was dark outside. I didn't see a hole in the alley in the shadows, and stepped into it and twisted my ankle. It's better now,” she said, testing her weight on it a bit. “Well, almost. Let me know if you need anything else.” Marissa turned and limped away.
    “Let's brainstorm,” Deirdre said.
    I took a sip of my tea. It sure had a great blend of spices, perfect amount of cardamom. I wondered how much help Deirdre and Elizabeth would be.
    “You said Thursday's Sherman's funeral,” said Elizabeth. “We should go and see who all attends.”
    “Right. And the day after the funeral, I think we should talk to Mary Ann and tell her about Saturday night,” I said. “She doesn't need to know every detail. It will be a shock for her, although she suspects things aren't right.”
    “But if she knows the truth, she'll be more willing to give us information,” Elizabeth said.
    “I'll invite her