“Are you sleeping?” I asked by way of greeting.
“Ha,” is all she offered, an un-humorous laugh.
“I don’t know, maybe you should go see a doctor, or maybe an acupuncturist or a day spa or something.” Anything.
“I wouldn’t say no to any of those.”
I made a mental note to stop by our favorite spa and pick her up a gift certificate.
The flower shop was hopping. It turned out, the mayor had a ton of friends and everyone wanted to send him flowers. The place was crazy. I was betting it wasn’t even this busy on Valentine’s Day. Unfortunately, the store only had two ladies working, who I knew happened to also be the owners. Betsy and Claire were super sweet ladies, and entirely in over their heads. The elderly sisters had owned Lovely Blossoms since inheriting the shop from their aunt decades ago. Rumor had it that Claire was ready to retire, but Betsy wouldn’t hear of it. In fact, she refused to hear much of anything as she never wore her hearing aids.
We tried to wait patiently at the bridal table while the ladies waited on their customers. Betsy rang up sales while Claire customized the order.
“Would you like another rose? Yellow or pink?” she asked the gentlemen at the front of the line. I could appreciate Claire’s attention to detail, but man, she was killing me here.
“How about a daisy? Now, one or two?”
I popped an antihistamine.
“What about a card? Did you fill out a card yet? We have a lovely selection,” she said to another man, leading him over to the card display.
Noooooo! I looked over at Aria. She was totally zoned out. I let her take a mental vacation. She needed it. In fact, I thought about joining her.
“Sorry about that, girls,” Claire addressed us … ten minutes later. “Now, where is that binder? Betsy, have you seen it?”
“Seen what?” Betsy asked.
“The bridal binder.”
“The what?”
“The binder. You know, where we write down our wedding orders?” Betsy still had no idea what Claire was talking about.
“You don’t by chance take computer orders, do you?” I asked Claire.
“Oh no, we don’t have anything fancy like that. Excuse me for one minute, girls.” Claire went back behind the counter and began to rummage through various bins and boxes.
I whispered to Aria, “Who did you place your order with?” She pointed to Betsy. I had a feeling that explained it all.
“Did they give you a written receipt? Anything?”
“No, I didn’t think to get one. I placed the order with Betsy and she just asked me to stop in a few days before to pay.”
Claire rejoined us with her binder in hand. I could relate. Up until a couple months ago, I lugged all my clients’ info around in a similar binder, AKA my Beauty Bible. I’ve since digitized the whole thing and all my orders are online. It made my life easier. Although, I never lost a client’s order like Claire here. I saw that the store’s orders were paper punched and clipped into the three-ring binder. One could easily slip out. I looked under the table to be sure Aria’s wasn’t sitting right under our nose. It wasn’t.
“Sorry, girls. Now what’s the problem again?” Claire had a blank order form in front of her and a pen at the ready.
“My wedding flowers. We’re trying to find the order. Everything was red: the roses, lilies, peonies, and I had floating orchids at each place setting.”
Claire started writing everything down. “Now when is your wedding, dear?”
“Friday.”
“This Friday?” Claire looked incredulous.
“Yes, this Friday,” Aria stated as a matter of fact.
“Oh honey, I don’t think that’s possible. That’s a custom order. You needed to make that in advance.”
“Yes, you really should’ve made an advanced order,” Betsy had joined us.
I was thinking they both might want to back up. Aria’s head might just explode. I put my hand on her arm. “Not worth it.” Aria would disagree, but she relented. Not before giving the women a look to end all looks, however.
I took the lead. “Is there any way you could tell us what you could get in?” I asked Claire.
“How about some daisies? They really are the friendliest flower, or what about carnations? I just love carnations. Don’t you?” Betsy bobbed her head up and down like Claire had the perfect solution.
Aria dropped her head into her hands.
No, just no. We weren’t going to get far here.
12
After leaving Aria and promising her we could order some awesome wedding flowers online, I decided I needed a little pick-me-up, especially if I was going to attend Vicki’s class in a couple hours. That meant a stop in at Sweet Thangs. The bakery was my happy place. Not only did they make the best chai latte ever (seriously, it came with crystalized cinnamon sprinkled on top), but the pastries were heavenly.
I tried to get Aria to come with me, but she was focused on clean eating. I still wasn’t sure what that meant, but if chocolate wasn’t allowed, then it wasn’t for me. Wait, is chocolate allowed?
I walked into Sweet Thangs and did a double take. Sitting at a back table, laughing like besties, were Justine and Detective Roxy. I’d like to think Detective Roxy was asking Justine about my sabotaged product launch, but I had a feeling their little get together was more of a social visit. I smiled at Detective Roxy and she looked away. Yep, Justine definitely told her a thing or two about me. Only part of it, if that, would be true. Did I mention that I hated Justine? She was my Paulette, and then I thought the worst. What if someone murdered Justine? Horrible to think about, but honestly if it happened, and given our history, I know I’d be a prime suspect. I could only hope nothing suspicious would come of her, even if I’d like to imagine her disappearing every now and then. Meaning move to Hawaii, I swear.
I got a chocolate-filled croissant and chai latte and was going to walk out the door when I changed my mind and walked over to them instead. Younger Ziva would’ve ignored them, scarfed down her croissant, and cried over how mean girls could be. Mature Ziva didn’t tolerate people talking crap about her, especially when I doubted any of it was true. Besides, I was still convinced Justine messed with my products somehow. She would always be guilty until proven otherwise, in my book. I would just have to be careful not to threaten her in front of Detective Roxy.
“Did she ever tell you about the time she keyed Aria’s car?” I asked the detective, interrupting their conversation.
“How about the time she banged my boyfriend?” Justine retorted.
“Ex-boyfriend. And you’re going to have to be more specific. At the rate you go through men, that pretty much includes all eligible bachelors in a fifty-mile radius.” I could’ve kept going, but I stopped when I took in Justine’s wardrobe choice. She was wearing a long-sleeved, high-necked blouse. It was ninety-some degrees outside with the humidity level set to sweat, and Justine was the type who liked to show off all her assets, even if they were silicone-filled. I don’t think she even owned a bathing suit cover up. Today’s wardrobe choice was so unlike her that it begged me to question what she was hiding, but before I could, Detective Roxy broke up their little tête-à-tête.
“Well, I hate to end this lovely conversation, but I need to get back to work. Justine, it was nice chatting with you. Thanks for all the …um … information.”
“Oh, I’m sure she was full of all sorts of helpful information,” I said.
“Anytime,” Justine replied. We did the stare-down-each-other thing that we had perfected over the last twenty years.
Detective Roxy snapped me out of it. “Ziva, you have a minute? I want to chat with you.”
I squinted my eyes at Justine for added measure. She stuck out her tongue. I thought about smacking her across the face, but that probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do in front of a cop.
Detective Roxy and I stepped outside and walked a few steps down the street.
“We got a
match on your lotion. Urushiol,” she said.
“Come again?” What was it with all this toxic talk lately? I needed a chemistry degree just to make sense of it all.
“Poison ivy, well the compound that causes you to itch, anyway. Remember I told you it was like I had poison ivy? Well, I had them look for it, and we got lucky.”
“No flipping way.” I was about to turn on my heel and march back into Sweet Thangs. Detective Roxy as a witness or not, I was going to pummel Justine. I swore on all things holy that I would get back at her.
“Don’t, she’s already left.” Detective Roxy seemed to be a mind reader. Or maybe I was just that transparent.
“Can’t you arrest her? Take her in for questioning? Something? Anything so I don’t have to just sit around and wait for her to do something else.” Because honestly, I wasn’t about to sit around much longer and do nothing. I was already planning how to take matters in my own hands, and well, not go to jail for it.
“We need to have some evidence or an eye witness, something more than just your hunch.”
“Years of disdain doesn’t count?”
“Not when arresting someone. I tried talking to her, but she didn’t offer up much. Do you have anything else?”
“Not yet,” I said with a mischievous smile.
“I did not hear that, but let me know what you find out.”
“Don’t worry, I will.”
Running into Justine reminded me that I needed to rebrand my business. Bye-bye, Serenity Now. I didn’t even want to try and salvage that company’s reputation. I needed to come up with a new name, which I was more than okay with as Serenity Now had been Mrs. DeVine’s idea. I went back through my original ideas. I wanted to incorporate a part of me into my business’s name, but still allow people to know what the business was all about. Hence why Chocolate Lover was out. I ended up writing up a list of all the adjectives that described me (smart, sassy, sophisticated. Okay, maybe not that last one), and things that I loved (chocolate, cake, sugar, and shoes) to come up with Sugar & Sass Skincare. Now I just needed to contact my designer and get her to mock up a new logo, and I needed to file for a new LLC license and DBA papers, and update my website. It was going to be a heck of a lot of extra work, but worth it. I thought once I had all the branding in place and market research to back it up, Mrs. DeVine would be totally cool with the change. At least, I hoped she would.
That night at 6:45 PM, after spending all afternoon working on the rebrand, I parked in front of the conservatory and headed inside. The conservatory was housed in a large, glass dome building with open-aired gardens and smaller glass houses connected to it. The architecture was impressive, the flowers gorgeous, and my allergies in check, thanks to the mountain of antihistamines I loaded up on before class. Good thing they were the non-drowsy kind.
I had no idea what to expect. The course description didn’t mention anything about supplies, but like a good student, I brought a notebook and pen along. I wondered if I should’ve brought gardening gloves. I was not touching anything.
I walked down the hall, past the auditorium, and into a small classroom on the right. Several potted plants some with vines, or covered in tiny hairs, and others with beautiful blooms were displayed on a metal table at the front of the room. Next to each one was a sign that said DON’T TOUCH and POISONOUS with the skull and crossbones image above it. Just looking at the plants, I would have never guessed they were poisonous. Thirty people or so were already in the room. The way they chitchatted told me that they all mostly knew one another. A woman named Inez walked in after me. Inez was one of my beauty clients who loved to talk as much as she loved her flowers. She had been born with the gift to gab, as my nan used to say. She was also Vince’s grandmother, although she called him Tico. I had no idea they were related until I saw him over at her house one day, but that’s another story.
“Well, hello, Ziva. I wasn’t expecting to see you here today. Such a wonderful surprise!” Inez took a seat next to me. “I had no idea you were into gardening. You never said anything before. Now we have something else to talk about. Oh, and aren’t you excited for this weekend? I found the perfect dress. Tico took me shopping at Nordstrom!”
Now that was something I could talk about. I loved Nordstrom’s shoe department. Once I got this mess straightened out, I was rewarding myself with a new pair of heels. I saw the cutest pair of gold strappy sandals there a couple weeks ago that I haven’t been able to get out of my mind. I was starting to feel even more motivated to find out who killed Paulette and poisoned the mayor. Shoes motivated me like that.
“Did you hear that the mayor was poisoned?! I bet that’s what all these people are here for.” Inez looked around the room. “I wonder if Vicki’s working on the case?” Now that was something I hadn’t thought of. I should’ve given her name to Detective Roxy this afternoon along with her and Paulette’s history. If all checked out, Detective Roxy would probably appreciate someone like Vicki on her team.
Vicki walked in then, wearing safety glasses and heavy-duty gardening gloves up to her elbows. This looked serious. Maybe I shouldn’t have picked a spot in the front row?
Vicki welcomed us all and started the class by asking us if we could identify any of the plants before her. Inez’s hand shot up and startled me. Someone was going to be an A student, and it wasn’t going to be me.
“Well, first you have Water Hemlock. Looks lovely like Queen Anne’s lace, but it’ll kill you in a heartbeat. That’s a wicked little plant. Next to that, you have the nefarious stinging nettle. Don’t get too close to that one! On the end, there is the castor bean plant. They say the seeds are more poisonous than rattle snack venom!”
“Ah yes, ricinus communis. Everything on this one is poisonous. It’s big and the color is bold, but it’s also deadly. One bean and—” Vicki pretending to cut her throat with her finger. “Lights out.”
I scooted my chair back an inch.
Vicki continued, “The saying goes: the difference is in the dosage. Some poisonous plants become powerful medicines when taken at the appropriate dosage. Take foxglove and digitalis. The blooms make for beautifully cut flowers, and butterflies love them,” Vicki walked over to a vase filled with yellow and peachy bell-shaped flowers, “but the plant itself is toxic. People have died by confusing it with the comfrey plant, which herbalists use to make tea. Pets have also been poisoned by drinking the water in a vase containing the flowers.”
I thought of poor Captain Jack at home. What type of flowers are in the vase on my kitchen table? Are they harmful to him? And what other dangers are lurking around my apartment? Looks like I had some serious puppy proofing to do, and soon. Good thing he was in his crate right now.
“But digitalis extracted from the plant is used to treat a variety of heart conditions. You’ll find the same thing with belladonna,” Vicki continued.
“Deadly nightshade,” Inez chimed in.
“Right. It’s extremely toxic, especially the berries, but it could also save your life. You can thank the plant’s component of atropine for that. If you’re in cardiac arrest or have pesticide poisoning, you’ll be very grateful for this one.” Vicki was in her element. This was the most animated I had ever seen her.
“And what about this one?” Vicki brought a small potted plant forward on the table. It had clusters of lovely green leaves and looked totally harmless to me. This time, several hands shot up in the air.
Inez whispered to me, “Well, everyone knows that’s poison ivy.” I nodded my head as if I couldn’t agree more. The clueless gardener, that’s me.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard the adage, Rules of three, let it be, or Hairy vine, no friend of mine. But did you also know it can grow as a shrub?” Vicki held up a picture of an impressive-looking bush. With it’s beautiful yellow flowers and lush leaves, I never would’ve thought it was the same plant as the vine in front of me.
“Here are a couple other fun facts for you. The urushiol compound in the plant, whic
h is responsible for our misery, is actually what helps the plant retain water. Several animals take advantage of this, like deer and bears. They can snack on the plant with no problem. The plant is a member of the cashew and almond family. A similar compound to urushiol is found in the raw shells of cashews.”
Hmmm, well, scratch cashews off my shopping list.
I thought of a question to ask and raised my hand. “So, with poison ivy, is there a way to squeeze the juice out of it or something?” I was trying to figure out how Justine would’ve gotten the compound into my products.
Vicki looked at me strangely and was probably wanting to know why I wanted to know, but she answered my question anyway, “You could. It’s the sap that’s in the plant where the urushiol is contained. I suppose you could milk it, so to speak.”
“Oh, good to know. I was just, um … curious.” Wow, that lie was awful. Inez gave me the side eye. “I’ll tell you later,” I told her.
A couple other people asked a few questions, which Vicki easily answered, and then she continued to show us poisonous plants that were native to the area. I seriously had no idea there were so many plants that could kill you, and many of them in your own backyard.
Vicki asked if anyone else had any other questions and I took a chance. “What about grayanotoxins?” I hoped I pronounced it correctly.
Vicki studied me for a minute. “What about them?”
“What is it from? Is it common to the area?” I wanted to know how easy it had been for the killer to get his or her hands on the poison.
“Very much so. The toxin is derived from azaleas, also known as the Georgia State Wildflower.”
You gotta be kidding me. Azaleas I knew. The flowering shrubs were everywhere and they made me sneeze something fierce every single spring. How was Detective Roxy supposed to narrow it down when you could literally pick the poison from almost anyone’s backyard?
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