Cornflowers and Corpses

by London Lovett

  A big smile erupted on her round face. "I love it. These will sell like crazy." She untied the ribbon and shrugged coyly. "I just have to give it a taste." She broke off the head of the dove cookie and pushed it past her bright orange lips. Her eyes closed as she chewed. "Hmm, that is delicious." Her eyes popped back open. "I'm getting a lightly floral taste. Is that lavender?"

  Elsie nodded. "I thought it would go nicely with the lemon."

  I pointed out the orange peels. "You must have good taste buds. It seems it would be hard to taste anything but orange. The whole room is filled with the scent of it."

  Minnie put the rest of the cookie back in the bag. "It was a particularly fragrant orange. And you're right. I think I'll enjoy the rest of this cookie after the orange scent has disappeared." She placed both hands on the metal box and pulled it toward her, then fidgeted with the latch to open it. "I can pay you cash, if that's all right." Minnie said to Elsie.

  "Sure, I never turn down good old fashioned cash."

  Minnie counted out the money the club owed Elsie. She pushed up from behind the table. "Now, I think I'll take a break from this gloomy utility closet and do a little shopping. I spotted the cutest little, olive colored, insect proof hoodie that I need for my trip to South America." She waved her hands in front of her face as if scaring off a swarm of mosquitoes. "The insects are as thick as mud down there." She followed us out and shut the door behind her. "You two should stick around. There's going to be an exciting slideshow in a little while. One of our members captured a rare photo of a Northern Goshawk. We're all anxious to see it. Thanks again for bringing the cookies, Elsie. They're perfect." With that, she hurried off toward the kiosks.

  I turned to Elsie and gave her my best pleading look.

  "Fine, we can stay for awhile, but I need some food. Let's go see if that baked potato stand has anything worth consuming. Although, I'm not getting my hopes up."

  Chapter 7

  After an, as expected, disappointing baked potato and an hour perusing the many kiosks geared toward owners of pet birds, I came to the conclusion that Kingston was nothing like a chirpy little parakeet or talking parrot. His beak wasn't really made for playing with toys or gnawing on colorful ropes. As for bells, he would probably enjoy one but as I considered a pretty brass bell tied on the end of a chain, I visualized myself being hailed to serve my bird, like a butler or downstairs maid.

  "I can't believe there is this much bird merchandise," Elsie said. She rarely entered a kiosk and spent most of her time standing in the aisles avoiding people with parrots on shoulders and large cages being rolled through to waiting cars.

  The bird watchers had their own little niche carved out near the stage area. It seemed activity on stage was ramping up and projector lights and microphones were being tested for the presentation. Like Elsie, I knew little about rare birds like Goshawks, but I was far more anxious to learn about them than my convention partner.

  Minnie was sitting at a table. She had set Elsie's beautiful cookies out. A banner on the front of the table proudly boasted West Coast Bird Watching Society. Pamphlets filling event goers in on the benefits of being a club member were piled neatly around the array of cookies. A small placard mentioned that all proceeds from the cookie sales would go to the club for future events like the wonderful bird convention. It seemed as if the cookies weren't being plucked up too fast but then Minnie had put an exorbitant price of three dollars on each cookie.

  "Three dollars," Elsie muttered as she spotted the table. "I sold them to her for a buck a piece. That's a big markup. No one is going to buy them at that price." Elsie's bottom lip pouted. She wasn't used to her baked goods sitting unwanted for long. That was when it occurred to me, there was nothing on the sign to let people know who baked the cookies. I was sure more than half the attendees were locals like Elsie and me.

  "Actually, I think she will sell them for that price," I said. "She just needs to advertise them better." I headed across to the club table.

  Minnie's hoop earrings dangled as she peered up at me. "Oh, it's you again." She glanced past me and spotted Elsie, who was wearing a less than happy face. Minnie leaned over the table to get closer. "I thought people would go crazy for the cookies. Do you think I should break a few up so they can taste samples?"

  "I was just going to suggest that. Also, if you add a placard that states that the cookies are from the Sugar and Spice Bakery, I think you'll have these cookies flying out the door."

  Minnie clapped once. "Great idea. I'll get right to it."

  Elsie, not wanting to hear about her cookie failure, had wandered down to the next kiosk where a statuesque woman clad in stylish sports gear and black hiking boots was showing several people a large framed photo of a flock of geese in a perfect V flying through a dusky pink sky. Her entire kiosk was filled with framed photos, mostly of birds in nature but a few other critters made the cut too, like a black bear sitting against a tree in the midday sun and a herd of elk littered across a vast open field.

  I joined Elsie to peruse the stunning nature photos. The sign above the entrance of the kiosk read Ivy Eagleton, Professional Nature Photographer. Beneath the bold blue letters, in parentheses, the words and bird enthusiast had been added in a much frillier font.

  The woman, Ivy, I presumed, finished with her customers and turned to Elsie and me. "Thank you for checking out my photo collection. Let me know if there's anything you're interested in, and I can give you the backstory and location. I also have some books, one of which won an award from the World Ornithology Organization." Her photos were breathtaking, but unfortunately, so were the price tags. I would have to settle for looking at Kingston in his natural habitat, which included the back of my sofa and the cereal cupboard in the kitchen.

  "You took all these pictures?" Elsie asked sounding rightly impressed. Some looked like difficult or even dangerous shots and all in seemingly exotic locations.

  "Yes, I'm quite proud of my collection."

  Ivy had a mouthful of very white, very straight teeth. She dressed and carried herself as if she'd come from money, money enough to let her travel the world and experience everything nature had to offer.

  "They are wonderful," I added.

  "Thank you. Like I said, if there's any particular photo you're interested in just let me know. By the way, I'll be closing up in about ten minutes. I'm anxious to attend a presentation from a good friend of mine, Nora Banks. You've probably already heard about her slideshow. Should be exciting. I, myself, have never been lucky enough to snap a photo of a Northern Goshawk. You should attend."

  "I think we're planning on it," I said.

  Elsie pulled her focus away from a framed photo of pink flamingos standing in a marsh. "We are?"

  "Yes." I added a pleading smile. "In fact, we should head over to the stage and get some good seats. Your photos are lovely." Elsie followed me out of the kiosk.

  "Why are we—" Elsie started, but her attention was drawn to the club table where Minnie was frantically trying to keep up with the cash being handed over and the cookies being swept up. Elsie's face lit up. "They're buying the cookies after all."

  I took hold of her arm and led her toward the stage. "That's because Minnie added a sign that said Sugar and Spice Bakery."

  "Yeah?" She pulled down on the hem of her shirt. "Guess people will pay for quality." The change in cookie fortunes improved Elsie's mood instantly. "I suppose we could stick around for a slideshow."

  Nora had changed her t-shirt from Bird Nerd to one that just had silhouettes of various birds printed across the chest. She looked more than a little nervous as she stood behind the projector and picked up the microphone.

  Her slightly shaky voice echoed through the building. "I'll be starting my presentation in five minutes. If you're interested in seeing a rare bird in its natural habitat, please come find a seat."

  For no other reason except he happened to be standing nearby the stage with a wry smile, I caught a man's odd reaction to Nora's ann
ouncement. The thirty something man, tall with a husky build and a bird watcher's khaki, multi-pocketed vest, laughed dryly as Nora finished. He was leaning against a corner wall near the stage. His arrogant nose flare only added to the derisive laugh. It seemed he and Nora knew each other, and they were not friends. She ignored him and his mean laugh entirely as she shuffled through her note cards.

  Half of the seats were taken, and they were filling up fast.

  Elsie looked at me. "Who knew so many people were interested in bird pictures."

  Chapter 8

  Elsie and I had spotted our seats for Nora's slideshow. It was just a matter of sidling past the legs of some of the people sitting, but our quest was stopped before we'd even reached the row of seats.

  "Elsie," someone called from behind. We spun around. Minnie was walking quickly our way, her ample hips swinging side to side, as she hurried toward us. A forty-something man of medium height and build with dark hair and deep set eyes seemed to be walking alongside her, his longer legs allowing for a much less harried pace.

  Minnie was somewhat winded by the time she reached us. "Oh, Elsie, I'm so glad you haven't left yet." Her cheeks rounded like apples. "I wanted to introduce you to the president of our club, Andrew Teslow." She beamed as if she was introducing a truly important person.

  Andrew nodded. "So you're the marvelous baker of the famous dove cookies." He smiled politely and shook Elsie's hand. Then he smiled at me.

  "Hello, I'm Lacey. I would like to take credit for the famous cookies, but I only helped deliver them."

  He shook my hand regardless. "Nice to meet you." He turned back to Elsie. "Your cookies are so popular, I wanted to thank you in person. Also, since your cookies are so delicious, I assume you probably bake a stellar batch of brownies."

  "Beyond stellar," I piped up before Elsie could answer. "Sorry, it's just I've been treated to many of her brownies, and stellar is not quite a big enough word to describe them."

  "Perfect," Andrew said cheerfully. "Is there any way I can order three dozen of your brownies for our club picnic? It's tomorrow."

  While Elsie calculated her time to see if she could manage the order on short notice, I decided to scoot between the rows of chairs and grab two seats before they filled up. I scooted along and as I brushed a curl back from my cheek, I caught the distinctive scent of orange. With my nose being as discerning as it was, I was almost sure it was the same orange that Minnie had been eating, or at least of the same variety. Since I hadn't eaten an orange and I'd washed my hands before and after the potato, I could only assume the orange scent came from Andrew's hand. Wherever it came from, I suddenly had an urge to eat an orange myself.

  Some of the lights on the stage were being dimmed signaling that Nora was about to start. I headed toward a cluster of three empty chairs. I placed my purse on one chair to save it for Elsie and took a seat next to Ivy, the photographer.

  Ivy leaned her head closer. "Glad to see you made it to the slideshow. Everyone has been waiting for this. Nora has been talking about it for months. She spotted it in a forest near the Canadian border."

  "Yes, it'll be interesting to see," I said confidently as if I had any idea what a Goshawk was or why it would be rarely seen or, for that matter, living in a forest near Canada.

  "Where is your friend?" Ivy asked.

  Elsie was just making her way to the seat. "She's on her way." I patted the seat next to me. "She's a baker. The president of the bird watching society was asking her to bake some brownies for a club picnic."

  "That's nice, I guess," she said hesitantly.

  I looked at her. "Are brownies a bad idea for bird watchers?"

  She laughed. "No, we like brownies well enough." It seemed she wasn't going to elaborate about her odd reaction to brownies at the picnic, then she huffed lightly. "I'm a member of the society. It's just that Andrew is always making spending decisions without going through the proper budget channels. Members have to vote on expenditures, but he is always veering off the list of approved expenses." She sighed loudly. "I guess that's why he's always having financial troubles in his personal life." She patted my arm. "But you didn't hear that from me."

  "I won't say a word. But I will tell you that the brownies are delicious and will probably be the highlight of the picnic."

  Elsie reached us right then. I picked up my purse so she could sit down, which she did with a clunk and a soft moan.

  I glanced over at her. "Did you just make an old woman sound as you sat?" I couldn't hide my amusement. Elsie was the spriest, fittest person I knew and hearing her make a sound like my old Great Aunt Betty used to make when she sat at the Thanksgiving table was, to say the least, unusual.

  "An old person sound escapes me once in awhile, and frankly, I deserve it. Now I've got to add three dozen brownies to my list for tomorrow."

  I scrunched my face. "Should I not have told him they were beyond stellar?"

  "No, no," she said. "After all, you were just telling the truth."

  Nora had put up the first slide. It was a picture of her at a campsite somewhere in a lush green forest with a lake in the background. Inadvertently, I glanced across the room and found that the same guy with his arrogant grin and posture was standing near the stage. It seemed he planned to watch the slideshow from the side of the stage rather than with the audience.

  I leaned my head toward Ivy. "Excuse me but is that man over there in the gray t-shirt with the short, reddish brown hair a member of your bird watching society?"

  "Yes, that's Mason." She smiled. "Why are you interested? I could introduce you, but I have to warn you, a lot of women like him. I'm not sure why. He's very full of himself, and well, he's dishonest too but that's a long story."

  "No, I'm not interested. He just looks sort of—" I paused, looking for the right words.

  "Full of himself?" Ivy repeated.

  "Yes, I guess that's it."

  "Please, if I could have your attention." Nora's voice shot through the microphone. "I'd like to get started with my presentation."

  Elsie elbowed me. "If I nod off, don't let me fall face first out of the chair. Did that once in college and nearly broke my nose."

  "Just don't snore," I muttered back.

  Chapter 9

  It was hard not to feel sorry for Nora Banks but then one also wondered why someone who obviously suffered from terrible stage fright would sign herself up for a presentation. And in front of her bird watching peers, no less.

  Elsie was finding just a touch too much amusement with Nora's nervous presentation. The poor, frazzled woman dropped the microphone twice, mistaking it for the slide advance remote in her other hand. The second microphone drop caused the device to whistle slightly, so it sounded as if there was a perpetual gust of wind circling the auditorium. Twice, she used only her note cards as guides. Without looking up, she described a very nice image of a golden eagle, but the slide behind her was clearly a barn owl. (Even those of us with limited bird knowledge knew when we were looking at an owl and not an eagle.) All the while, arrogant looking Mason stood off to the side making no attempt to hide his derisive grin. Nora nervously glanced his direction more than once but she forged ahead.

  "Two more slides," Nora said through the eerie whistle floating through the microphone, "and we'll reach the photo you've all been waiting for." She grasped for her pile of note cards, but rather than grabbing hold of them, her nervous fingers sent the cards cascading to the floor. A nice young man in the front row lunged out of his seat to help her collect them.

  "This is starting to be sad," Elsie muttered. (She was still wearing an amused smile.)

  I leaned toward her. "Starting? I can't believe anyone would put themselves through this."

  Ivy apparently overheard my comment. "I'm not sure why she's so anxious," Ivy whispered. "I've seen her give presentations before, and she's usually great, relaxed and enjoying herself."

  I glanced in the direction of the notoriously rude Mason. "Do you think it has some
thing to do with your club mate, Mason?" I asked quietly. "He would make anyone anxious with his sardonic grin."

  Ivy looked across the room at Mason. "He's always like that. Although, you might be right. Only, I think it might just be because Nora has been bragging about this photo for a long time, and now the time has come to put the picture behind her boasts. It's sort of the big reveal because I don't think anyone has seen it yet. I'm sure that's why Mason is here. He would never sit through a presentation by another club member. He thinks he knows everything."

  There was definitely no love lost between Ivy and Mason.

  Nora had collected her cards into a haphazard stack with corners sticking this way and that. She couldn't get them back in proper order, so she set them down with an exasperated sigh.

  She ad-libbed through the next two slides and seemed to confuse a blue jay with a woodpecker. The whole presentation was mostly a disaster, so she just powered through the mistakes. Then, Nora became visibly more nervous. She wiped her palms on her pretty t-shirt as if they were sweaty, which judging by her agitated state was a given. Those of us in the audience were fidgeting as well, spurred into our own state of agitation by our presenter's unsteadiness.

  "This is turning out to be more entertaining than I imagined," Elsie muttered behind her hand. "I'm half expecting her to throw up right in front of everyone."

  Nora picked up the clicker to advance to the next slide, the apparent show piece of her presentation. There was an audible pause, as if someone pressed mute on the audience, as we waited for her to click over to the next slide.

  "This bird must really be something," I said to Elsie from the side of my mouth.

  Nora abruptly put the slide remote down on the projector cart. "You know, I'm not feeling too well. I think I need to end this presentation."