Thursday - Murder and Mint Tea - the opening scene #BWLAuthor @MFRWAuthor #mystery #Cozy

             The pale winter sun shone through the kitchen window.  I cleaned up the last of the mess from my adventure.  The caper hadn’t gone as planned.  How many do?  In my many years of life, most of my plans had taken an unexpected turn.

            Merup.”  Robespierre, my Maine Coon cat, announced a visitor on the way.  He’s almost as good as a doorbell.  The firm rap on the door told me this wasn’t one of my female friends.  “Come in.”

            Pete Duggan strode across the room and thrust a bouquet of bright carnations into my hands.  A red hue, almost as vivid as his hair, stained his face.  “Mrs. Miller, got to hand it to you.  I’ve come to eat crow.”

            To hide a smile I buried my face in the flowers and inhaled the spicy fragrance.  “How about chocolate chip cookies and mint tea instead?”

            “Sounds great.”  He straddled one of the chairs at the table and picked up the local newspaper.  “Local Woman Thwarts Robbers.”  His grin made him look like the ten-year-old who had moved into the corner house on my block.  He cleared his throat.  “The guys at the station ribbed me about this.  Did you forget the plan?”

            How, when the idea to catch the real thieves had been mine?  A series of burglaries had plagued the neighborhood for months and had troubled me.  Especially when the police had decided two teenage neighbor boys were the culprits.  I knew the pair and had disagreed strongly enough to set myself up as a victim.  Then I informed Pete.

            “Did you forget?”  he repeated.  “When I crept up the stairs and saw you grappling with one of the men, I nearly had a heart attack.”

            Heat singed my cheeks.  “How was I to know my date would poop out early?”

            After filling two mugs with mint tea I opened a tin of freshly baked cookies.  How could I admit to a nagging doubt, or tell him I had wanted to be part of the action?  In July I had turned sixty-five and in September retired from the nursing staff at Tappan Zee Memorial Hospital.  Six months of placid existence had made me edgy.  Lunch with friends, coffee with the neighbors and weekly bridge games with old cronies bored me.  These events held none of the challenge of meeting crises at the hospital.

            Pete scowled.  “You could have gone to the Prescott's house.”

            “They’re away.”  I sipped the tea and savored the cool mint flavor.

            “The Randal’s’ then.”  He pulled the other mug across the table.  “The guys insist the two of us make one perfect cop.  Want to