Poison, Perennials, and a Poltergeist (The Petal Pushers Mystery Series)

by Hayes, Tina D. C.

  The Brown heirs put the house on the market at the exact time Darci got a business loan, which had to be the oddest fluke of all. After planning for the delivery van and massive startup cost involved in purchasing all the floral equipment, supplies, and plants, the house came in a few thousand under budget. Darci signed the closing agreement within twenty-four hours of finding it, something which made her realtor very happy.

  She carried her empty plate to the kitchen and set it in the sink. Coffee cup in hand, she didn’t need any more caffeine this close to bedtime, opting instead for straight Kahlua over ice. She usually consumed one or two glasses of wine a week, but with what she’d uncovered about Miss Addie, she thought the three drinks spaced over two hours this evening were well justified. With her kid asleep in bed and ESPN doing a fine job of keeping her husband entertained, it wasn’t like she was slacking on her responsibilities. Plus, poor Wade wouldn’t get any sleep if she sat awake all night in bed jabbering about Addie. Nope, these late night cocktails were definitely a good idea.

  With the sheets of paper spread in front of her, she realized destiny helped her buy the old Brown homestead. There just wasn’t any getting around that. Addie would have appreciated the fact that Petal Pushers sold beautiful plants and stocked exotic flowers all year round. Some of the blossoms she used in arrangements were hybrids that hadn’t even existed when Addie was alive, specimens guaranteed to strike the botanist’s fancy if they caught her eye during her ghostly strolls through the shop. Darci wondered if Addie could see things as they were now, in the present day, or whether the ghost only saw things as they’d been nearly a hundred years ago.

  The answer became clear and she took another nip. Addie had to see everything in the here and now to heal those sick plants. Plus, people noticed her looking directly at Daisy, and the parakeet certainly responded to her attention with a symphony of tweets.

  Adelaide Brown had been a midwife. Could that be the reason why Charlotte was the first to see the Ghost Lady, and saw her more frequently than anybody else had?

  That still left the big question. Why was Addie haunting the shop? Did her presence mean she needed to attend to some unfinished business? Or could it be that her love of plants and home drew her back of her own choosing?

  “Oh hell. I don’t know whether to buy a Ouija board or call an exorcist.”

  The booze overpowered the caffeine. Drowsy, she put the papers away and called it a night. Snuggled under her covers, she chose to look on the bright side. If Petal Pushers had to be haunted, Addie Brown was the best choice for the job. The face photographed for the newspaper back in 1885 belonged to a happy and loving person, one who didn’t scare Darci in the least.

  The New Age display drew a wider range of people into Petal Pushers, some a little kooky, but harmless. Darci straightened up the smudging supplies she bought from Sue, the sage bundles, the sweetgrass she couldn’t make herself or her customers stop sniffing, and the abalone shells. She rearranged herbal books to fill the gap left by the missing tobacco leaves.

  An elderly lady came in the day before asking about them. “My husband used to raise tobacco, but his last crop was several years ago. I’ve been missing the extra leaves we used to keep pesky ole bugs away from our off-season clothes and whatnot.” She leaned in to whisper, “Moths can do a number on your unmentionables, you know.” She bought the whole supply.

  “How’s my favorite florist doin’ is afternoon?”

  “Always better when you stop by.” Darci turned in Max’s direction. She was glad to see him, but he hardly ever made a visit while on duty. The last time that happened, she’d just been shot at. That made her wonder why he was here, and hope it wasn’t bad news. “How’s your day going?”

  “One of the best I’ve had in a while,” Max said, his grin letting her know everything was fine. “I just got word that Roy Nolan’s been arrested. The Ohio State Police caught him hidin’ out at his cousin’s place in Cincinnati. They dug the snivelin’ bastard out of a pile of laundry in the bathroom closet.”

  “Thank God.” Darci caught Max in a bear hug. “Maybe now I can quit jumping out of my skin at every little sound.”

  “No reason to ever worry about that little piss ant again. Came out from under the pile of dirty underwear bawling like a baby, begging not to be locked up. He confessed to everything, poisoning Cyril, and what he tried to do to you. They’ll transport his ass back here in a few days, where he’ll stay in a cozy little cell I’ll personally watch over until his trial. Then I guess he’ll spend the rest of his sorry life in the state pen,” Max said. “Roy would’ve got away with murder if that mole bean plant hadn’t caught your eye.”

  “I about got my stupid self killed, though. Now I know it’s not such a hot idea for me to go collecting evidence from a killer’s mama’s house, should it ever come up again in the future.” Darci sighed. “And I hope it never does.”

  Petal Pushers’ Plant of the Month for October is

  Boston Fern

  Nephrolepis exaltata

  Perennial

  Common name: Sword Fern

  Brief description: This has been a favorite houseplant since Victorian times. The Boston fern, with its delicate fronds, can reach up to five feet in diameter.

  Symbolism: magic, discretion, and shelter.

  Trivia: Boston ferns are great at absorbing formaldehyde and other toxins from the air.

  Growing instructions: Boston ferns like high humidity and medium light, never full direct sun. Temperatures between sixty and seventy-five degrees are ideal for these houseplants. Remove brown fronds, both to cut back on having to vacuum around them up and to encourage new growth. Mist your ferns daily.

  There are two schools of thought on how to water these babies. Donovan Lewis says to water them often and keep the soil damp to the touch. Blanche Blanford swears by letting her ferns soak up water in the sink for a few hours, and then not water them again until the dirt is dry to the touch.

  Uses: These are perfect in hanging baskets or set on pedestals out of direct sun.

  Tools & Tips: Get double duty and a big bang for your buck with the pumpkins you’ll see for sale from now to the end of the year. First, use them for decorations on the porch or around your yard, or even inside for centerpieces or by the hearth. Second, after you’re sick of looking at them, bake them up and use them in your favorite seasonal or holiday recipes. They taste so much better than the crap out of a can, are easy to prepare, and can be frozen for the months to come.

  How to Roast a Pumpkin

  (also works for other winter squash, just vary the cooking time according to the size you use):

  1. Clean the outside of the pump- kin, cut it in half, and take out the pumpkin guts. (You might want to save the seeds to feed the birds and squirrels, or make a snack out of them by baking and tossing them with sugar or spices.)

  2. Place the pumpkin halves cut side down in a baking pan or roaster and cover with a lid or aluminum foil.

  3. Bake at 450 degrees for about forty-five minutes or an hour, or until the flesh is easily pierced with a fork.

  4. After it cools, scoop out the pumpkin and puree it or mash it with a potato masher.

  5. Cook with it now or store it in the freezer. Use just like you would plain canned pumpkin, in soup, pie, cake, cookies, or casseroles.

  Chapter 11. November

  A profusion of pink roses

  bending ragged in the rain

  speaks to me of all gentleness and its enduring.

  ~ William Carlos Williams

  Jingling bells on the front door alerted Darci that she had customers. That sound meant she needed to drop what she was doing, engage in a little small talk, and try to make a sale. She’d met so many interesting people, it was fine with her when folks just wanted to come in to get a feel for the shop, or to spread the latest gossip.

  “Good morning,” Darci greeted an older couple she’d never seen before. “What can I help you with today?”


  The woman stood in the center of the room, one hand clasped over her chest as she took in every detail around her. Approval and wonder radiated across her face.

  “You’ll have to excuse my wife.” The gentleman handed a handkerchief to his spouse, to wipe the tear that slid down her cheek. “Hattie’s grandparents used to live here, so she’s a bit nostalgic.”

  Hattie dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. “I’m just being silly.” She folded the hankie and gave it back to him. The gentleman seemed to think she’d need it again, so he palmed it in his hand rather than return it to his pocket. “I haven’t been here since I was a little girl, when Grandma was still alive.”

  I swany, I cain’t believe it! It’s my Hattie girl! She’s grown so old. Last time I saw her, she was still little enough to sit in my lap. She still has those same pretty eyes, but with my grandmother’s wrinkles on her sweet face.

  Where did the years go? I cain’t remember a thing about her growin’ up, gettin’ married to this fella, nothin’ after little Hattie’s sixth birthday.

  “Oh, so the Browns were your grandparents? It’s so nice to have you stop by. Do y’all live around here?”

  This is amazing, Darci thought. Just a few days ago, she’d read through the Brown family history, and today one of Addie and Walt’s descendants walked right through the front door.

  “No, we’re from Tennessee, around Clarksville. We were visiting some relatives up in Mount Vernon and I just had a hankering to stop by and see if Grandma’s place was still standing. Wanted to show it to Gene, here.” She motioned toward her husband.

  “Please, feel free to look around anywhere you like.” Darci couldn’t believe she was talking to Addie and Walter’s granddaughter. So many questions ran through her mind, she didn’t know where to start.

  “My Uncle George lived here for a little while after his wife died, but he moved on back to Louisville before we had a chance to drop by. He had some work done to the place, it’d been empty so long then. Seems like he said there was water damage from the roof leakin’ and he had to patch up the bedroom floor and the drywall in the parlor. Sure can’t tell it now, though. You’ve got this house shined up like a new penny.”

  Hattie led the way, explaining how each room looked when she’d last been in the house. She pointed out where her grandparents’ four-poster bed used to stand in their second floor bedroom, the place of honor the grandfather clock once occupied on the staircase landing, and where the old coal stove sat in the kitchen. Captivated by every word, Darci imagined Petal Pushers as a museum and herself getting the grand tour. Hattie’s vivid descriptions made it easy to visualize things as they had been a lifetime ago.

  “We used to love playing down in the root cellar. It stayed so cool on hot summer days. Don’t think I can face going back down there now, though. Not after . . . .” Hattie turned pale, covered her mouth with hand for a minute, and shook her head. “You probably don’t know this, but they found Grandma down there. Said she must’ve fell carrying jars of strawberry preserves she’d made. Aunt Virginia said she didn’t understand what got into her, why she didn’t wait until the following week, like they planned. She was supposed to bring her girls down then, so they could help her with the canning and such.” She forced a grin and tried to shake off the sad memory. “Grandma always was a little stubborn, though, once she got an idea in her head.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Miss Addie’s obituary mentioned death by falling, but Darci had no idea where the accident had taken place. She used the space for extra storage and like most old cellars, it was dark, creepy, and full of spider webs. Now it seemed weird that nothing out of the ordinary happened when she and Hoyt took stuff down there, since that’s where the ghost had died. Then again, she did usually get a gloomy sort of feeling at the bottom of those steps, and a cold spot wouldn’t be as obvious in a room that stayed cooler than the temperature outdoors.

  “I was young when Grandma died, so it’s a real blessing to be able to remember the things about her I do,” Hattie explained. “What isn’t from my own memory comes from pictures I’ve seen in the family album and the stories my daddy told as I grew up. And I used to spend a few weeks here with Grandma each summer before she passed away.” A faraway look sparkled in her eyes.

  Died!! Passed away?! I don’t know what in tarnation you’re goin’ on about, but your grandmammy is most certainly not dead! What in the world’s wrong with you? Somebody must be a pullin’ your leg about that other stuff too, ‘cause I‘ve got better sense than to go and fall down my own cellar stairs. You know I always hang on to that banister and take it one step at a time.

  I swany, you better not let me find out you’ve been hittin’ the hootch this early in the day, little miss, grown married woman or not.

  “What was Addie like?” Darci rested her chin in her hands with her elbows propped on the counter. She wanted to hear every detail.

  “Oh, she was just the sweetest person you’d ever want to meet,” Hattie began. “Daddy always said there wasn’t a person in the whole county who didn’t love Addie Brown. As a midwife, she delivered most of the people who lived around here. Grandma was so full of life, even when she got old. She loved babies, kids, and animals. The summer I turned five, she bought me a little pygmy goat that wasn’t much bigger than a puppy. Kept him tied in the corner of the backyard until that fall, when he learned how to chew through the rope to get at Grandma’s flowers. Oh, was she miffed! Well, she fussed a little, but mainly I think she liked telling the story. She gave him to some kids out in the country and we got a kitten on my next visit. Grandma figured cats wouldn’t mess up her garden. Did I tell you about her garden, yet? I’ve been gabbing so much it’s hard to remember. Hope I’m not boring you.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, no! Listening to you is like having history come to life. I’d love to hear about Miss Addie’s garden.” Darci meant it. Her grin widened when she realized she’d used ‘Miss’ in front of Addie’s name. With all the new information about their resident ghost, she felt as if she knew her.

  “You know, that’s what everybody called her, except us kids, of course. Miss Addie.” Hattie smiled, possibly recalling countless conversations she’d overheard on her grandmother’s porch.

  A few seconds of silent reminiscing passed before Hattie continued the story. “Back to Grandma’s garden. That was her pride and joy, I tell ya. Yessiree. Was there anything much left of it when you bought the place?”

  “Not really, I’m afraid.” Darci tried to recall what had been in the yard last December. “Well, all the trees, of course. Oh, and the lilacs, one bush on each side of the house.”

  “I’m so glad they’re still here!” Hattie appeared startled for a second, as if she’d swallowed her own tongue. “I mean, this is your place now, and of course you have a right to change anything you want. I didn’t mean-”

  “Don’t be silly, I understand exactly what you meant,” Darci cut her off. “And don’t worry. Those pretty lilacs aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Grandma had things growing in just about every square inch of this yard. Of course, there was grass in the middle,” Hattie said, smiling, “but she had perennial borders, rose beds, everyday bloomers growing around the front porch, a vegetable garden, tulips and Easter flowers, a grape arbor, some kind of viney stuff covering an arch out back, and plenty of ‘pee OH knees’, as folks around here called peonies. She kept two ferns hanging on the front porch, just like you do.”

  “What a nice coincidence,” Darci said, thinking Hattie and Gene didn’t know the half of it.

  Darci had absolutely no intention of telling them Hattie’s dead grandmother haunted the flower store. No way. The thought of a loved one roaming the earth as one of the undead would be way too upsetting for anyone, and at Hattie’s age, Darci feared the revelation could bring on a fainting spell or heart attack. Or they might think she was a lunatic and go running out of the building, never to tell her any more Miss Addie stories. No, Darci seal
ed her lips on the matter.

  Hattie doted on Adelaide’s accomplishments with the botanical society. “Grandma was fascinated with orchids. They were so hard to grow back then, even for a green thumb like her. That area over yonder,” Hattie pointed to the porthole, “is where she used to keep her special houseplants, the ones we kids weren’t allowed to mess with. She had a marble top table right in front of the window.”

  Darci hoped Hattie and Gene didn’t see the goose bumps spring up on her arms. So that’s why plants thrived in that spot. It was Miss Addie’s nursery.

  “We have a lot of luck with things over there, too.” Darci hoped the odd smile twitching at her lips didn’t make her look crazy. Since her company didn’t run screaming from the room, she guessed she was safe for the time being. “Must be the light.”

  For the second time since their arrival, a cold spot settled over the room. Darci didn’t want to draw attention to it and hoped they wouldn’t notice, just in case they were up on their paranormal studies. “Sorry about the temperature. I keep meaning to have that dang air conditioner fixed.”

  Daisy started chirping in that special way she did when someone paid attention to her. Her tweeting had a different tone when she wanted out of the cage. Before she turned around, Darci knew the parakeet would be positioned on the front, her little pink feet wrapped around the bars as she bobbled her head, looking at someone visible only to Daisy.