Taylorwood (Alexandria Whitney Mystery)

by McCarthy, G. L.

  “What’s wrong, are you okay? Did something happen at school?” Dez saw the expression on Alex’s face which was a cross between a half smile and a totally frustrated woman.

  “Someone sent me flowers today without a card and then left this note on my car. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it would you?” Alex handed Dez the note and watched the expression on her face as she read it.

  Dez looked up at Alex. “Sorry Babe, I didn’t send the flowers or leave the note. But I did bring home “take out” from your favorite Chinese restaurant, because I knew how the first day of school is always a drain on you, and that you wouldn’t want to cook. Do I get any brownie points for that?” Dez had a feeling she may be in a little hot water because she had never thought of sending flowers to Alex for any occasion, let alone the first day of school. The thought had never entered her mind. She had always said that there was no more room because of all the stuff she had to learn to be a vet. She always thought that even though Alex accepted that as an answer, it wasn’t a very good answer.

  “Yes, you get brownie points for getting Chinese. It’s just bugging me who sent the flowers and note. I’m going to go look up what cowslip means in the language of flowers on the Internet, and maybe I have an e-mail from my secret admirer who will tell me who they are so I can tell them a thing or two.”

  Dez couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, she had seen Alex so preoccupied with someone giving her a gift. They were only flowers. What was the big deal about getting them? It’s not like they were that expensive of a gift. Oh well, better get back to restocking the truck before it gets too late.

  Alex dropped her books and bag on the couch and headed straight for the computer. As it was warming up she changed into her sweats and favorite old sweatshirt with “Grumpy” on it. Dez had given it to her last year for her birthday. Now even though Alex was only a little grumpy in the morning it was more the color and material that made Dez buy it, and not the fact that it had a big picture of grumpy in the middle. Yeah, right. As the computer hummed and whirled to life, Alex hit the key to sign on to the internet. Knowing that she had a few minutes as dial-up took awhile; she made a pit stop in the bathroom. Alex could hardly wait until they put in the lines so they could get DSL. But until that day it was dialup or bust.

  She headed for the kitchen to get her share of the Chinese and found Dez dishing everything out onto two plates.

  “Do you want to eat it here in the kitchen or in the den?” Dez was looking like she was expecting to eat dinner sitting next to her and not alone.

  “Ah, either place is fine with me.” Alex knew that Dez wanted to share her day with her before heading off to her office to write up bills and case reports. The internet would have to wait.

  Sitting on the floor in front of the couch had become a common place to have a casual meal. Sitting at the dining room table always seemed so formal, not to mention that trying to keep the cats off the table was next to impossible and they were such cute kitties. This way you could show them what was on your plate, and they would sit very quietly and wait for you to offer them some of your dinner.

  Dez told Alex about her day and a difficult case she was trying to diagnose. She had taken over the practice from her father who was the original “Old Doc Anderson” and the name just stuck. She didn’t mind, as she loved her father very much, but was mad at him for dying at sixty. He had smoked all his life and wasn’t about to stop just because it caused cancer. He always said, “We all have to die from something, so I will just know the why but not the when.” When he died Dez felt cheated in that she had only had him for thirty years. Her parents had divorced shortly after Dez’s tenth birthday and she had decided to live with him. She had never really gotten along with her mom, who always wanted her to wear dresses and act like a “little lady.” She preferred to play with her brothers, and could take any of them in Indian wrestling. They had all moved away before his death seven years ago, and had only come back for the funeral. Being as they all had lives in different parts of the country and had never had any interest in working for the family business was fine with Dez. There really wasn’t enough work for a whole family of vets. Dez was busy, but not over worked. There were days when the phone wouldn’t ring and days when she thought it would never stop. She made a good living and being with Alex was how she wanted to spend the rest of her days.

  It took about thirty-five minutes to eat and talk about the days events. Alex sat next to her beloved and played with the back of Dez’s hair as they talked. She was so in love with her and yet felt lonely as their relationship had changed over the years. Dez was comfortable with Alex, and said she didn’t need to be with her all the time. Just having her in the house was enough. Alex on the other hand, loved the intimacy and closeness of a lover. She always felt like she was expecting too much to have Dez go to bed at the same time as she did. She wanted to curl up next to her lover and fall asleep in her arms. Dez was a night owl who stayed up until one or two in the morning working on cases or watching TV. It was hard to expect Dez to change. This was how she grew up and didn’t see anything wrong with it now. Her parents had slept in separate bedrooms. So at least she would come to bed with Alex, eventually. No one was wrong. It just wasn’t the best of situations.

  They did the dishes together and then Dez headed for her office. Now Alex could find out about cowslip. Naturally the ISP had logged her off for inactivity so she signed back on, grabbed a bottle of water and sat patiently waiting for the “Welcome; you’ve got Mail” voice to announce the arrival of the internet. Alex checked her mail, but there was nothing from anyone accepting the credit for sending the flowers. So on to search for the language of flowers. She was able to find a gift website that would let her type in either the flower for a meaning or had a list of words with the corresponding flower. She typed in rose and the answer was “Love.” Okay we figured that. Next she typed in cowslip and the answer was “Divine Beauty.” Well that was nice, nothing ominous about that. So why not sign the freakin’ note? Okay, make a note of this website, just in case. “I really hope this stops here,” Alex said out loud with no one to hear her.

  But something wasn’t quite right a feeling, women’s intuition, or whatever you want to call it. But why panic? It was only flowers and a note; maybe just a crush from one of her students or maybe another teacher. It’s not like she and Dez were really legally married and someone may be hoping for a breakup. It was always a possibility, but who? Time would tell either way. Something would happen or nothing would happen. Alex decided to go over the week’s lesson plan and then read her lesbian mystery in bed, and see if she could get lost in someone else’s life.

  Chapter 3

  As Alex drove to school it started to rain. No rain had been forecast, but like her Aunt Patricia always said, “Only fools and dudes predict the weather.” Alex was glad she had replaced her wiper blades when she changed her oil.

  Two weeks had passed with fading thoughts about her secret admirer until Alex entered her classroom and found another gift sitting on her desk. Again, no card. The little box was perfectly wrapped. She was a bit envious of this person’s wrapping skills, as she usually just tossed her gift in the nearest bag and left it at that. She opened the box and found a gold St. Christopher medal inside. They were quite the rage in the late sixties, and early seventies as a sign of going steady, but not exactly the current trend. But maybe that wasn’t what it meant, and someone was just giving her a medal for protection. But why, and who was responsible for it? The box had no markings to indicate where the purchase had been made and no note inside. Rats!

  This was getting annoying, but maybe she was blowing it out of proportion. Just a student crush, nothing to get upset about. Hopefully the gifts would stop soon. After all, neither the roses nor the medal could have been cheap and how many of her students, past or present, have this kind of money to spend? As for a faculty member, this didn’t seem like something one of them would do. Alex would
have to think on this new development.

  Just then the door opened and her girls started to pour in. Alex put the medal and box into her desk drawer and greeted everyone by name as they filed in. She hoped one of the girls would give her a sign that she had left the gift, but no such luck.

  The morning went slowly, but when the lunch bell finally rang the third period girls took off like the starving teens they were. Alex opened the drawer where she had put the medal and stared at it hoping it would speak to her and tell her who had sent it. Like clockwork, Cyn came through the door with brown bag in hand, but stopped short when she saw the look on Alex’s face. “What’s wrong, are you okay?” Cyn asked, as she slowly walked to the desk where her friend sat staring into the drawer.

  “Oh, I’m fine,” Alex said still thinking about the gift. “Liar,” stated Cyn. “Try it again with more enthusiasm so I’ll believe you this time.”

  “I received another gift from my anonymous friend and I’m not sure what it means.” Alex reached into the drawer to produce the latest gift.

  Cyn held out her hand as Alex dropped the necklace into her palm. “Cool, a St. Christopher Medal. I always wanted one of these. Wow, it’s gold too. That must have cost a pretty penny. So still no clue as to who your new rich friend is?” Cyn questioned amusingly.

  “No, and this is really starting to get me rattled!” Alex stood up and slammed the drawer shut. “I didn’t ask for this attention and I really wish it would stop.” Alex mumbled as she grabbed her lunch and motioned Cyn towards the door for them to leave. “I don’t want this necklace and I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of anyone to whom I could have given the wrong impression. For the life of me I can’t think of a single soul.”

  As the two women headed for the old oak, Alex stopped in her tracks. “Interesting,” she muttered.

  “What?” Cyn, who was already two strides ahead, had to backtrack to her friend.

  “I just remembered that Miss North told me about the arrival of the flowers.” Alex was recalling the events leading up to the first gift. “But she made no mention of my latest gift.”

  “What’s so interesting about that? Miss Busybody doesn’t know everything. I don’t see your point.” Cyn motioned to Alex to keep walking towards their lunch tree.

  “How did they get into my room to leave the gift? I lock my door after the last class when I leave for the day. So if it wasn’t Miss North, who else had a key?” Alex replied.

  “That’s it. Your secret admirer is Mr. Schmidt, the janitor. Case solved. Let’s eat.” Cyn, hoping for a little comic relief, was trying to keep Alex moving in the direction of the tree.

  “Mr. Schmidt you say? Then the school is paying him too much for taking out the trash.” Alex reminded her friend of the dozen long stem roses and the gold St. Christopher Medal. A little pricey for a janitor to swing, not to mention the man was still married and could be old enough to be her father.

  Upon arrival to the base of the old oak, Cyn suggested, “Just put the medal away. If and when your secret admirer surfaces you can give it back. What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is I want it to stop,” Alex declared. “I want it to stop now.”

  When the final bell rang Alex headed for the administration office to see Miss North. She had to have been the one who put the gift in there in the first place. As Alex approached the counter, Miss North was straightening up and getting ready to leave for the day.

  “Excuse me Miss North, but can you tell me who gave you the box to deliver to my room this morning?” Alex’s voice was light and upbeat hoping not to annoy Miss North with a question she may not have the answer for.

  “Box? I didn’t deliver a box to your room this morning. Why are you asking me?” Miss North seemed quite put out at the question.

  “Well, you did deliver the flowers to me and I thought you had done the same with the box,” Alex replied.

  “I delivered the flowers because they were left here sitting on a piece of paper saying to deliver them to you. So I did. I have no clue who left them, and now I am leaving if we are done,” Miss North snapped impatiently as she gathered her belongings.

  “Oh yes, we are done. I’m so sorry for keeping you here after hours.” Alex felt a shiver run up her neck at the thought that someone had access to her classroom and she didn’t know who it was. So, what if it was Mr. Schmidt? It didn’t seem likely, but then he was one of the few people who had keys to all the rooms.

  Mr. Frederick Schmidt was a strapping man in his late sixties. His parents had migrated from Germany before the war, and even though he was born here he had a slight German accent. His mind was like a steel trap enabling him to remember everyone and everything that ever happened at the school. He was the institutional memory of Taylorwood School for Girls. Just ask him. He had to be on the grounds somewhere and now was as good a time as any to go ask him a few questions.

  After twenty minutes of asking every student she met she finally tracked down Mr. Schmidt. He was emptying waste baskets on the other side of the campus, near Cyn’s classroom. Alex always thought Cyn let her class out a few minutes early just before lunch. That way she could walk into Alex’s room moments after the lunch bell rang and be so calm and collected  not out of breath from running the whole way!

  “Excuse me, Mr. Schmidt. I was wondering if you let anyone into my classroom this morning to leave a box for me?” Alex was hoping he had seen someone so she could get to the bottom of this little mystery.

  “No, Miss Whitney. I didn’t open your classroom for anyone. Although I did notice that your door was unlocked this morning when I went in to empty the trash. And I do remember there being a little box on your desk. But there wasn’t anybody in there and I locked the door when I left. You may have forgotten to lock your door. It does happen a lot around here you know.”

  “You may be right, Mr. Schmidt. I will be more careful in the future. Thank you and have a good evening.” Alex knew she had locked her door as she was one who always checked it several times before she walked away. It was just a little OCD one she had worked on with her old therapist.

  On her drive home Alex kept telling herself this was just a school girl crush. She had one on her PE teacher Miss Voorhees, which lasted for two years. This had to be nothing and would all blow over in a couple of weeks. In Alex’s case she found out Miss Voorhees was married to a guy. That kind of news can end a crush instantly. So maybe her secret admirer would find out about Dez. But how? Maybe a picture of the two of them on her desk? No, the school wouldn’t allow that. So, maybe put it in one of the drawers in case her admirer was very nosy and went through her desk. Gosh, she better make sure she didn’t have anything of value in her desk, except for the necklace in case they wanted it back.

  “Oh, please take it back and leave me alone,” Alex repeated over and over as she looked towards the heavens for some divine intervention. From my lips to Goddess’s ears. As soon as possible, she prayed.

  When she arrived home there was no sign of Dez, which meant she must be working late with an emergency. Horses are extremely stoic animals and people only seem to notice at meal time that all is not well with their very sensitive intestinal tract. This becomes very apparent when they turn their nose up to breakfast or dinner. In other words, when the horse is not “Eating like a horse,” that is the first clue that all is not well in tummyland. Vets do so love to be told that old paint hasn’t been quite right all day, but the owner waits until late evening or the crack of dawn the next morning to call the vet. It makes for a very large P.I.T.A. charge when all is said and done.

  Alex never minded being alone before, but this was different. Someone was invading her privacy by getting into a locked classroom uninvited. All those years of watching Murder She Wrote was starting to make her paranoid. All sorts of scenarios where coming to mind; she really needed to get a grip. No note just meant the giver was very shy. That’s it extremely shy.

  Just then the phone rang,
making Alex jump and scream at the same time. With her heart pounding in her chest she answered sounding out of breath. “Hello,” she gasped.

  “Hey Babe, it’s me. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier but there was an emergency out at the Parkers’ and you know how far that is on the other side of town. They weren’t home and the client who called said she can never get cell service out there. She had to drive to the neighbors to call me in the first place. Anyway I’m back on the road and will be home in about an hour. Is everything okay? You sound winded.”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I was just startled by the phone ringing. I was standing right next to it. It made me jump and really got my heart going. Did you eat already or should I make enough for you too?” Alex now shifted into Little Miss Homemaker mode.

  “No, I’m fine. The client went and got me something to eat so I wouldn’t pass out from lack of food. She was a big help. She just recently moved her horse to the Parkers’. I believe she has only been boarding him there about a month. I did run into her a couple of times at the stables before she moved.” Dez was telling Alex all this like it was vital to the conversation.

  “Oh, the client ran out and bought you food and was a big help. Sounds like you have an admirer of your own. Should I be worried she’s going to steal you away from me?” Alex asked half joking, half serious.

  “Not likely. She’s married and has a daughter. It was her daughter’s pony that coliced. It looks like you’re stuck with me for a very long time,” Dez responded with deep affection in her voice.

  “Okay, I’ll hold you to that statement. Now get off the phone and concentrate on the road. I don’t want you to get anymore speeding tickets from not watching the speedometer. Drive carefully, I love you.” Alex was getting choked up on those words and was glad the conversation was ending. She didn’t want to explain her emotional state to Dez, not just yet.

  “I love you too. See you soon.” Dez clicked off.