Lemon Curd Killer


 
 
 
 Titles by Laura Childs
 Tea Shop Mysteries
 
 death by darjeeling
 gunpowder green
 shades of earl grey
 the english breakfast murder
 the jasmine moon murder
 chamomile mourning
 blood orange brewing
 dragonwell dead
 the silver needle murder
 oolong dead
 the teaberry strangler
 scones & bones
 agony of the leaves
 sweet tea revenge
 steeped in evil
 ming tea murder
 devonshire scream
 pekoe most poison
 plum tea crazy
 broken bone china
 lavender blue murder
 haunted hibiscus
 twisted tea christmas
 a dark and stormy tea
 lemon curd killer
 
 Scrapbooking Mysteries
 
 keepsake crimes
 photo finished
 bound for murder
 motif for murder
 frill kill
 death swatch
 tragic magic
 fiber & brimstone
 skeleton letters
 postcards from the dead
 gilt trip
 gossamer ghost
 parchment and old lace
 crepe factor
 glitter bomb
 mumbo gumbo murder
 
 Cackleberry Club Mysteries
 
 eggs in purgatory
 eggs benedict arnold
 bedeviled eggs
 stake & eggs
 eggs in a casket
 scorched eggs
 egg drop dead
 eggs on ice
 egg shooters
 
 Anthologies
 
 death by design
 tea for three
 
 Afton Tangler Thrillers writing as Gerry Schmitt
 
 little girl gone
 shadow girl
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 BERKLEY PRIME CRIME
 Published by Berkley
 An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
 penguinrandomhouse.com
 
 Copyright © 2023 by Gerry Schmitt & Associates, Inc.
 Excerpt from Honey Drop Dead by Laura Childs copyright © 2023 by Gerry Schmitt & Associates, Inc.
 Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.
 BERKLEY and the BERKLEY & B colophon are registered trademarks and BERKLEY PRIME CRIME is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
 Names: Childs, Laura, author.
 Title: Lemon curd killer / Laura Childs.
 Description: New York: Berkley Prime Crime, [2023] | Series: Tea shop mystery; 25
 Identifiers: LCCN 2022041577 (print) | LCCN 2022041578 (ebook) |
 ISBN 9780593200926 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780593200933 (ebook)
 Subjects: LCGFT: Novels. Classification: LCC PS3603.H56 L46 2023 (print) | LCC PS3603.H56 (ebook)| DDC 813/.6—dc23/eng/20220831
 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022041577
 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022041578
 Cover illustration by Scott Zelazny
 Adapted for ebook by Kelly Brennan
 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
 PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.
 pid_prh_6.0_142789176_c0_r0
 
 
 1
 
 
 
 When life hands you lemons, you’re supposed to make lemonade. Theodosia Browning had adopted a slightly more creative approach. She was smack-dab in the middle of hosting a fanciful Limón Tea Party.
 Picture this if you will: Five dozen Southern ladies dressed in gauzy florals and wearing hats and gloves. All seated at elegant tea tables in the fairy-tale setting of an actual lemon grove strung with hundreds of white twinkle lights. Postcard perfect, yes? Now add in a delicate waft of lemon-scented tea, large glass bowls amply heaped with fresh-picked lemons, and lemon scones served as the first course. For the pièce de résistance, a fashion show was about to begin and a camera crew was on hand to capture all the highlights of the runway. Naturally, the usual gaggle of high-strung designers, stylists, and business partners paced about nervously in the background.
 A lot to contend with. Almost too much for Theodosia. It was one thing to serve morning and afternoon tea at her charming Indigo Tea Shop on Charleston’s famed Church Street, another to juggle a major event such as this Limón Tea Party.
 “Grab another pitcher of lemonade, will you?” Theodosia said to Haley, her young chef and baker. “And that silver ice bucket as well.”
 Theodosia blew a wisp of curly auburn hair off her face as she stood in the kitchen of the Orchard House Inn, home to South Carolina’s only lemon orchard. All the food and beverages were being staged here with the help of Drayton, her tea sommelier, Haley, her chef, and two additional waitstaff. And each course was (thankfully!) going out on time. Seemed to be, anyway.
 “That woman is driving me batty,” Drayton said as he measured out scoops of lemon verbena tea. A natural orator, each of his syllables was rounded and carefully cadenced.
 “You’re talking about Delaine?” Theodosia asked. She gazed at him with crystalline blue eyes that were complemented by a peaches and cream complexion and an abundant halo of auburn hair. With her slender, athletic build, Theodosia always gave the impression that she was infused with energy and about to come uncoiled.
 “Delaine always drives me crazy,” Drayton said. “That’s nothing new. No, I’m talking about her overbearing sister, Nadine. The woman is positively outrageous. Not only is she bullying the poor models, she’s been braying out orders to the film crew. And seriously ragging that dilettante of a film director whose name escapes me at the moment. My fear is that our lovely guests might pick up on the dissonance and frenzy wafting through the air.”
 Haley looked up from where she was stacking lobster salad tea sandwiches on three-tiered trays. “You mean bad vibes?” Haley was sylphlike and blond, cute as a button, and in her early twenties—still easily impressionable.
 “Precisely,” Drayton said.
 Theodosia glanced out the window over the sink and saw Nadine rushing around, waving her arms, looking as if she were jacked up on an entire bottle of