The Accidental Alchemist by Gigi Pandian

for the tea.” I wondered how quickly I could drink it and extricate myself. I should have known people would know who I was. With the murder fresh in everyone’s minds, this wasn’t how I wanted to meet people. Especially before the police had solved the crime.
    Olivia leaned in. “You mustn’t order the food here. Blue knows how to make the most superb tea that tastes sublime and makes you feel alive, but she couldn’t cook a decent pastry if her life depended on it. She insists on making everything herself, so she can make them healthy .” She shuddered. “Can you believe that her desserts are mostly vegan ? Life is too short to eat inedible food because it’s healthy. My nephew Sam is the one who convinced me to try the teas here. One of the few sensible suggestions he has ever made. I should also warn you Blue only accepts cash. She doesn’t trust credit cards. Ah, Ivan! Come sit with us.”
    An unshaven middle-aged man with a newspaper tucked under his arm approached our table. I wondered how long Olivia would have gone on talking if it hadn’t been for the interruption.
    “This is Zoe, the woman who bought the house on the hill,” Olivia said to him. “Zoe Faust, this is Ivan Danko.”
    He nodded politely but without smiling, then headed for the counter, pausing first at the sole photograph on the wall. Other people had done so as well, but Ivan’s gaze lingered.
    “Don’t mind him,” Olivia said. “He hates retirement. He’s still getting used to it.”
    “What’s the interest in the photograph of the young woman on the wall?” I asked. “Is she Blue’s daughter?”
    “Anna passed away several months ago,” Olivia said. “She wasn’t Blue’s daughter, but she was a regular here.”
    “She’s so young.” No wonder the photograph interested customers who must have known her. I could see, now, that it was a shrine that had been set up for the poor girl. Though the death of Charles Macraith was tragic, the death of someone so young was especially devastating.
    In the midst of unfamiliar faces, a familiar one came through the door. Max Liu breezed by us andheaded straight for the counter. For a detective, he wasn’t very observant that morning. Though he passed by quickly, I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Only when he turned around with a cup of tea to go did he notice me.
    His body gave a jerk as he stopped abruptly.
    “Will you excuse us a moment?” he said to Olivia.
    Being pulled aside by the police in gossip-central? Not good.
    I stood and followed him outside, feeling Olivia watching me.
    Max’s hand brushed against my elbow as he opened the door for me. I felt a little jolt of electricity. It was a feeling I hadn’t felt in years. Get a grip, Zoe. This guy is investigating a murder—a murder he thinks I might be involved in. What was the matter with me?
    “Were you looking for me?” I asked. We stood just outside the teashop, under the blue awning that matched the painted blue sky inside.
    “Stopping in on my way back to the station, but I’m glad I found you.”
    “You are?”
    “How did you know?” he asked. Up close, I saw further evidence of sleep deprivation beyond the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t shaved, his eyes were bloodshot, and his collar wasn’t folded properly, as if he’d dressed in a hurry, or perhaps slept in his clothes.
    “Know what?”
    “About the poison.”
    “So Charles Macraith was poisoned in addition to being stabbed?”
    He held my gaze, ignoring his tea. I could smell the faint scent of jasmine from the hole in the lid of his traveling mug.
    “Do you believe what I told you or not?” I asked.
    “I want to know why you thought it was poison.”
    “I already told you,” I said. “I smelled it.”
    “But how did you know what you smelled was poison if you couldn’t identify it?”
    I took a moment before responding. How could I answer that question? The real answer was complicated—more complicated than could be