Free The Diva Serves High Tea by Krista Davis Page B

topped with a burlap bow. I suspected it must have been handmade. Otherwise, Robert’s door seemed very plain, except for the brass mail slot. I saw neither a bell nor a doorknocker. I rapped on the door.
    There was no answer. I turned around and gazed up at Velma’s windows again. She probably knew if he was home. I knocked again, louder this time. “Robert?”
    Still no response. Maybe this had been a stupid idea. He probably took Wanda out for breakfast.
    I turned to leave but Daisy pawed at the door and whined. I froze. She had done that once before, and when I opened the door, I had found a corpse.
    â€œCome on, sweetie. Nobody’s home.” But Daisy didn’t budge, even when I tugged on her leash.
    â€œOne more time, then we’ll go. Okay?” I knocked again, calling, “Robert!”
    I tried the doorknob. It turned easily. The door was barely open a crack when I thought I heard something. Daisy reinforced that notion by whining.
    The door creaked open to a dark house.

CHAPTER TEN
    Dear Natasha,
    I found a beautiful tea set in an antiques shop. The salesman told me it was bone china, but I’m not sure I believe him. I’m not familiar with the mark on the back. Is there a way to know?
    â€”Wasn’t Born Yesterday in Shopville, Kentucky
    Dear Wasn’t Born Yesterday,
    There is a very easy way to tell. Hold it up to the light. Bone china is translucent. You should be able to see the shadow of your hand behind it.
    â€”Natasha
    â€œRobert?” I called.
    This time I definitely heard it. A strange wheezing sound that wasn’t familiar to me. Daisy stayed by my side, and we entered the house with caution. I left the door open for light and to beat a hasty exit should that prove necessary.
    I found a light switch and flicked it on. A chandelierlighted a narrow hallway, made even tighter by stairs on the right. Antique paintings lined the walls on both sides, and a marble-topped console held an old-fashioned globe lamp with flowers painted on it.
    We ventured along the hallway at a snail’s pace until I spotted a foot.
    I raced toward it.
    Robert lay on the floor of his living room, his eyes open and staring at the ceiling. A table lay on its side, and an old black dial telephone had fallen to the floor, the receiver mere inches from Robert’s hand.
    I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed 911. “Robert?” I felt his wrist for a pulse.
    One of his fingers moved, almost imperceptibly. Faint rasping came from his throat. He seemed to be having difficulty breathing.
    The dispatcher answered my call, but I didn’t know the house number.
    â€œI’ll be right back.” I dashed outside to get his house number and relayed the information to the dispatcher. She told me to stay on the line. I left the door open and rushed back to Robert. “Wanda?” I shouted. “Wanda?”
    If she was there, she didn’t respond. I should probably check around. She might be in a similar state. But first I had to do what I could do for Robert.
    I kneeled beside him. “Can you sit up?”
    He was having so much trouble breathing that I didn’t dare try to move him. “What happened? Can you speak?”
    The gurgle that came from his throat scared me. “It’s okay. Don’t try to talk. The ambulance will be here soon. Just hold on. Can you wiggle your fingers?”
    The forefinger on his left hand twitched very slightly.
    â€œGreat!” I pretended like I thought that was wonderful but in reality I feared for him.
    Daisy howled and a moment later, I heard the siren. That was one good thing about Old Town—it was so small that the police and ambulances never took long to arrive.
    Knowing that help was on the way, I decided I’d betterjust reassure Robert and forget trying to do anything to help him breathe. I placed my hand over his, hoping he could feel it. “Did you hear that? They’re on the