Potager Plot

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Potager Plot Page 6

by Vikki Walton


  “Your mind’s like a squirrel on a tilt-a-whirl, you know that?” Carson laughed. “She probably didn’t have the strength or balance to haul the water up over her head to the plant if it sat on top of the bookcase.”

  “That’s a good point. Plus, when I think about it, drier soils are also lighter. So she—or someone else—had most likely moved the plant to the table for her to water.”

  “Do you recall any other plants on tables?”

  “There might have been, but I don’t remember any. Let’s think about it. Billie wants to dust. She asks Ben to take down the plant for her. He sets it on the table, which is why some of the other items were pushed back, like the lamp and some knick-knacks. With him taking the pot down, it allows her to water it, and then Ben can put it back up on the top when he gets home. Ben’s a tall guy, but it was a pretty good size plant, so it makes sense he used the stool to take down the plant, but Billie wasn’t using it to dust the other lower shelves.”

  “Which goes back to my question. Was the plant watered?”

  Anne sought to visualize the scene. “Yes, I think so. Wait. If she’d watered the plant—”

  “Oh no. I hate to say it, but this does add some doubt on what occurred. Even if she had tried to put it back on top of the bookcase, she would have used the stool to do so. We need to find out the actual cause of death.”

  “I was going to call Sam—”

  “ND!” he bellowed. If he used his nickname of Nancy Drew for her, Anne knew he was against her reaching out to Sam.

  “Why can’t I call him and find out?”

  “I don’t know. How about you’re not family, or the police, and don’t have any right to know until it’s publicly released?”

  “So, will you call?” She slunk down farther into the bed, bemoaning the fact she’d have to wait on finding out the cause of death.

  “When I get back from my trip,” he replied.

  Anne whined, “But that’s days from now.”

  “It’s not television. These things take time. I’ll see if the pathologist has this on her schedule and when we can hear back. As soon as I find out, then you’ll know.”

  “Fine.” She pouted.

  “I think I’m about to lose signal so—love you!” The call dropped.

  “Love you too.” Anne spoke to the air.

  She turned off her bedside lamp and allowed sleep to overtake her.

  ***

  The next morning, Anne noted her reddened arms and sunburned nose, so she slathered on some sunscreen and grabbed a wide brim hat and water bottle before heading out the door to the Whitmans’. She’d made it to the subdivision when she saw a white van pass by. Mercy was inside, her focus on the road, so she didn’t notice Anne waving at her. It was surprising to see Mercy back at work, but maybe it kept her mind occupied. Anne trudged on until she made it to the street and saw her truck by the curb. She passed Kim’s house and wondered how she was doing.

  Hmm, Kim lived very close to the Whitmans. She could easily go through the back yards and enter the Whitmans’ house with no one seeing her. If the police considered it an accident, would they have asked about visitors? She’d have to ask Carson about that the next time she spoke with him. Reaching the house, she spied a truck pulling out some plants and guys going around to the back. She followed them, and there were pallets of various perennials, pots of bushes, and trees. Anne felt a catch in her throat. The food forest. Billie had ordered the items ahead of their consultation. Ben was standing, staring at the plants. His shoulders were hunched over, and his T-shirt bore stains of something spilled on it. His face now sported an overnight stubble, and his eyes were rimmed with red. She’d opened her mouth to speak when she noticed movement. It was Aly.

  “Ben. I’m so sorry. I never meant—”

  He looked at the young woman and shook his head. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

  “But I want to help.”

  “If you want to help, then leave me alone!” he shouted, and everyone turned toward the pair.

  Aly burst into tears and ran away. Yikes. Anne decided to return later, but as she made to move, Ben turned and spotted her. She had no choice but to speak to him now.

  Anne murmured, “Ben, I’m so sorry to be intruding. Please let me express my condolences. I needed to come pick up my vehicle or—”

  He shook his head and ran his hands across his face, the sound of scratching sandpaper clear in the silence. A huge sob wracked his chest. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe she’s gone. Why? Why?”

  Anne led him over to the same chairs that she and Billie had used the first time they’d spoken of creating the backyard oasis Billie desired. After she’d settled him in his chair, he hung his head in his hands and wept. She sat there, not speaking, and waited.

  Finally, he gathered himself and using the dirty shirt, wiped his face with it. “Sorry. I’m not good company right now.”

  “Please don’t apologize to me.” She watched as the men unloaded some mock orange bushes near the other plants. “Listen, I can see that these items are all returned. I know the manager at the landscape shop, so it won’t be an issue.”

  “No. I want to do this in Billie’s honor. She wanted this, and I want to finish what she started.” He turned to Anne; the pain etched on his face. “When could you do it? I’d like to have it ready for her funeral if possible.”

  “I’m sure that, with the garden club’s help, we can knock this out in a few days. Let me talk to Kim and see how many people can help.”

  He nodded. “Good. Billie would want her dream completed.” He grew silent and then spoke as if he’d forgotten Anne was beside him. “It was probably for the best.” Ben walked away, and Anne stood there, his last words reverberating in her mind.

  She quickly caught up with Ben. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom? I walked over to get my vehicle.”

  “Sure.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t cleaned up the living room yet. To be honest, I’ve just avoided that room.”

  Anne laid her hand on his arm. “Would you like me to put it back to rights?”

  “Normally I wouldn’t dream of asking for help. But if you’re offering, I’ll take you up on it.” He pointed toward the back of the house. “In the kitchen, there’s a small closet. It has all the cleaning supplies there.” A man from the landscaping crew yelled for Ben. “Excuse me.” He walked off to join him.

  Anne felt a touch of remorse knowing the real reason she’d offered to help was so she could get another look at the area. She hurried inside and after hitting the bathroom, faced the cluttered, dirt-strewn room. The bookcase had been righted, but books and broken pictures and bric-à-brac lay strewn on the floor. The sofa sat off to the side to allow the first responders inside. Feeling a bit disrespectful, she hurried back to the kitchen to see Ben still speaking with the landscaping crew.

  Pulling her phone from her pocket, she quickly snapped pictures of the scene. While she might remember some things, the pictures would be a solid reminder in case she forgot something. After snapping the room from different angles, she noted the clean-up process wouldn’t be too onerous. Recalling Carson’s words, she noticed the remaining portion of the plant’s root ball. She knelt down and put her finger into it. Wet. That meant that the plant had been watered. When Ben had left for work was critical information, and she wondered how she could get him to share about the plant watering.

  Anne went outside, and the men turned toward her. “Ben, do you have another pot I can put the plant from the broken pot into?”

  “Ditch it.”

  “But it’s a healthy plant. I—”

  He clenched his fists. “That plant killed her. I never want to lay eyes on it again. You take it!”

  She backed up from his angry retort. “Sorry, of course.”

  He rubbed his hands on his face. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night. I—”

  “It’s fine. I’ll take care of it.”

&nb
sp; Anne hurried back to the house, where she grabbed a trash bag from under the sink. She set the root ball in the bag and put it next to the front door. Returning to the living room, she dusted the bookcases with a damp cloth before wiping down books and unbroken pottery. Anne set each of these on the bookshelf as she worked.

  Finally, she swept and mopped the floor. When she completed the chores, no evidence remained this was where Billie had taken her last breath. She went to move the couch and spied a basket on it. She hadn’t recalled seeing it before, but that wasn’t surprising. Inside were a pair of pruning shears, a small plastic container for holding flowers with a small amount of water, and a pair of new garden club gloves. Something was off. Anne reached down and picked them up. She placed them together and realized the issue. One was a small size while the other was a medium glove. Someone must have goofed on taking the correct pair of gloves.

  Or had someone put gloves on in order to leave no fingerprints? She looked at the bag of dirt and broken pottery. Even if she could do fingerprint testing, she wouldn’t be able to tell whose fingerprints were whose. But it could hold DNA. Carefully, Anne pulled the two largest pieces from the bag and wrapped them in another bag that she put inside with the plant. If there was evidence, she’d just preserved it. Did this constitute tampering with a crime scene? As a last thought, she used her phone to take a picture of the basket and contents before moving it into a corner of the closet.

  She lugged the cleaning supplies back to the kitchen and stored them away before leaving through the front door, carrying the plant out to her truck. She set it on the floorboard of the passenger seat before shutting the door.

  Since she was this close to Kim’s house, she might as well stop by and ask about helpers for working on Billie’s project. Leaving her truck at the curb, Anne enjoyed the short walk down the block, but as she approached, she saw Mercy on the porch handing a package to Kim. The pair looked to be having words, but as they saw her approach, their demeanor changed, and they waved to her.

  Anne joined them. “Hello, ladies. Ben wants to go ahead with the backyard project as a memorial of sorts for Billie.”

  Mercy spat out, “What a joke. Now he’s going to play up the caring husband. Too little, too late in my book.”

  “Mercy, Ben loved her,” Kim said.

  “Ben loved himself. You, of all people, should know that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Kim bristled.

  “I don’t have time for this. I have more packages to deliver.” Mercy strode off the porch, totally forgetting Anne’s presence.

  “We have to give her some grace. She’s struggling. But not sure why she called me out like that or what she meant.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No, should I?”

  Anne decided to come straight out with it. “I’ve heard that Ben is having an affair.”

  Kim sighed. “You better come in. I need to sit down.”

  Anne followed Kim through into the room that mimicked the layout of Billie’s house but was more modern in its décor. Kim motioned Anne to a chair opposite her before she sat down.

  “I’ve been hearing this too, but I can’t see Ben putting Billie through that.”

  “But you overheard the argument in the park,” Anne replied.

  “What do you mean? I told you I was taking pictures for the calendar. I saw nothing.”

  “I didn’t say you saw anything. I said you heard it.” Anne waited.

  Kim looked up, and their gazes connected before Kim lowered her eyes. “Fine. Yes, I heard the argument. But I couldn’t tell who was talking. I saw Jennifer leave but didn’t see Ben. Plus, I couldn’t really make out who was saying what. And yes, I’ve heard the rumors. I guess because I’m close to where they live, Mercy believes I’m one suspect on her affair list.”

  “Who else does she suspect?” Anne responded.

  “No idea. Once Mercy sets her mind on something, watch out. There’s no backing down. I will say this—I’m not having an affair with Ben.”

  Anne decided to ask, “Do you think Ben killed Billie?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kim’s face flushed red. “What? Absolutely not! It was an accident. I can’t believe you even think that.”

  “It probably was an accident, but if he was having an affair, it’s certainly convenient for him, wouldn’t you say?” Anne sat back and waited for Kim’s response while she admired a big, open-faced contemporary clock sitting on her mantel.

  Kim shook her head. “He wasn’t even at home when it happened.”

  “How do you know?” Anne perched on the edge of her seat and waited for Kim’s response.

  “Simple. I saw him leave that morning for work. I think it was about seven. He goes into Denver on certain days, and I was out watering my flower bed when he passed. He saw me and waved. So, I know he was gone.”

  “But Billie could have already been—” Anne responded.

  “Nope. She came out, probably, um,” Kim tapped her lips with her finger, “fifteen, twenty minutes later. She waved, and she had the new garden gloves on. She was laughing and saying something, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. So, I pointed to mine too. She shook her head. But I don’t think she wanted to yell. It was still early.”

  “It might have been about her gloves.”

  “Her gloves? Why?”

  “The ones I saw are two different sizes. Somehow, they must have gotten mixed up with someone else’s. Are your gloves the same size?”

  Kim shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  While Anne wanted to get Kim to show her the gloves, she could only press so far. Plus, she wanted to know what happened next. “So, Billie went inside then?”

  Kim nodded. “Yes, for a minute, but she came back out with her cutting basket. I think she clipped off some of her peony buds before going back inside. I had finished watering and heard my phone ringing, so I went inside too.” She paused. “Now that I think of it, that was the last time I saw her alive.” She clasped her hands in prayer and, closing her eyes, held the hands to her face, the emotion visible.

  “I’m sorry to bring back such a sad occasion.”

  “No, actually it’s good because I know she was happy and smiling, and that’s the picture I’ll always keep of her in mind.”

  Interesting choice of words to use keep versus have. But that could be stretching things. “So, you never saw her after that?”

  “Nope. I ended up making another cup of coffee and taking it out into the back yard to drink it before doing some work in my garden back there. It wasn’t until I heard all the street noise that I came out to see what was happening and saw you.”

  It certainly appeared that let Ben off the hook, but if Kim had gone inside, he could have easily swung back, and she’d have never known it. Of course, it could still be a possibility that it wasn’t Jennifer but Kim who was having the affair with Ben, thus giving him a much-needed alibi. Though he would have had to hurry to get to wherever he met up with Brian and James. “Well, I guess that’s it. Anything else happen that morning that you can remember?”

  “No, not much. I’d just come inside to bring in some veggies and heard the front doorbell. Mercy was dropping off an order for me. I remember she asked me for some water as she’d forgotten to bring her water bottle. I got her a glass of water, and she noted that the morning was flying by, and she felt like she was getting behind. I remember looking at the clock, and it was almost nine. I must have lost track of time while I was out back, which often happens once I walk around the garden. You know, now that I think of it…”

  “What? Did something happen?”

  “Mercy was pretty jumpy, and her face was flushed. She said she was having one of those horrible hot flashes again. I thought she was going to lose it. She gulped down the water and then asked for more, but by the time I returned, she said she was feeling much better. She asked about a plant I had put in out front, so I walked out with her, and we chatted a bit more
before she got in her van and left.”

  Anne thought about that. While Kim could have been Ben’s alibi, Mercy had given Kim one. Plus, she sensed nothing being hidden by Kim about Ben. Yet, Kim had become more agitated as they’d spoken.

  “Were you and Mercy arguing about something before I arrived?”

  “You saw that, huh? Mercy thinks we need to have new elections for officers at our next club meeting. She’d agreed to step in for Billie during her treatments but thinks that a new slate of officers is a good thing. I told her that now is not the time to make such a huge shift while everyone’s dealing with Billie’s death. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I’m going to have to do something.”

  “You could probably bring it up with some long-time members. I agree that now is not the right time to do a lot of changes. I would think in a few months might be better.”

  Kim smiled. “I’m glad you agree with me. Now I best get going. Anything else you need?”

  “Oh, I totally forgot about why I came over. Can we get help for Billie’s garden?”

  Anne explained about the garden project some more, and Kim said she’d send out an email for everyone who wanted to volunteer to meet tomorrow morning at Billie’s to start the work.

  Anne left Kim’s and headed to her car. She got inside and opened the windows to allow for a cool breeze. Something nagged at her. Kim had said that Billie had been cutting her peonies, but the container in the basket was empty. They hadn’t been crushed on the floor, nor were they in the kitchen. Of course, they could have been in another room, but then why was the cutting basket in the living room? Had someone moved the flowers and if so, why? Plus, it seemed weird that she wouldn’t take them into the kitchen and put them into a vase before starting her dusting. Unless she wasn’t going to put them in a vase but was giving them to someone else. Someone else she’d been expecting.

  ***

  The following morning found a good group of people ready to help bring Billie’s dream to life. Ben joined in, and he welcomed James, and they began laying a solid foundation for a rock wall which would create a seating space along with an area for phlox and other creeping groundcover.

 

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