Flowers, Food, and Felonies at the New Year's Jubilee: A Flower Shop Mystery Novella (The Flower Shop Mystery Series Book 4)

by Annie Adams

  K.C. rolled her eyes.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Something—is—up.” K.C. popped the last “p” like she was smacking her gum. “Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something going on.”

  I grabbed a towel and wiped some leaves off the design table. “Let’s say something is up. Whatever it is, we can’t worry about it anymore. We’ve got weddings to prepare and you’ve got a killer Jell-O salad to get ready for competition. I’m sure I’ll be running errands for my mom so she can get her entry just right. And then there’s Alex’s mom to contend with. We’re too busy to worry about what Vanessa is up to.”

  K.C. exhaled a loud sigh. “As usual, I suppose you’re right. Hey, you missed a spot over here.” She pointed to a sparkling clean area on the table. I threw the towel at her.

  “Quincy, where’s your ring?” Daphne said.

  There was that sinking feeling again. I told both of them how I couldn’t find it.

  “I’m sure it’ll turn up somewhere,” Daphne said reassuringly. “Have you looked all around here for it?”

  “I have, but I think I remember wearing it on Christmas Eve, after I left the shop. I’ve tried to think back so many times. Now I don’t know what I remember.”

  “Does our Ellie know you can’t find it?” K.C. said.

  “No. And we’ve got to keep it that way. Alex knows I forgot to put it on the other day. I’ve got to remember soon. I don’t want him to feel like it’s not important to me.”

  “Let’s look around here, just in case,” Daphne said.

  We retraced every action and step I may have made in the previous four days. We searched the floor under the cabinets, on top of the cabinets and inside of them. Any area where I might have placed my hands. We looked inside the box of newspaper for recycling, and the box of catalogs. We found nothing after searching over every square inch of the shop including my desk and the messy stacks of paper that covered it.

  Nothing.

  “Why don’t you take off early and try looking around your house again?” K.C. said.

  “Yeah, and K.C. could go with you,” Daphne said. She volunteered to stay and close up the shop by herself.

  K.C., Jerome and I walked to the parking lot and Jerome took a stroll around the perimeter while we humans searched the interior of Zombie Sue.

  “Oh, my gosh!” K.C. exclaimed as she thunked her cotton-swab-looking head. “I bet I know where it is. Did you wear gloves when you drove to work?”

  A gleam of excitement sparked in my chest. “Yes,” I exclaimed hopefully as I pulled the gloves out of the pockets of my parka. I jammed my fingers inside and felt nothing. I even turned them inside out. They were empty.

  “Darn. Don’t worry, we’ll find it. Chin up. Tally-ho.” She climbed into her new Jeep Wrangler, a Christmas present from her husband.

  Once at my place, we got right into the search. We retraced my steps in the morning from the bedroom to the kitchen to the bathroom, trying to think of all the places I might have been and all the times when the ring might have slipped off my hand.

  “You don’t think it could have gone down the drain?” K.C. asked as we stood in the bathroom.

  “No. I don’t trust myself—with good reason. I take it off and put it in my pocket or on the nightstand if I’m about to use the sink or tub.”

  “I guess that means we’ve got to search all your pockets next.” We looked through every piece of clothing I had and came up with nothing.

  Jerome waddled into the bedroom and sat at my feet, looking up at me expectantly.

  “Do you wear it while you sleep?” K.C. asked.

  “No, I tried that but scratched up my face. I keep it here on the nightstand when I sleep.” Although I’d already done it, I got on my hands and knees and raked my fingers across the rug around the base of the nightstand and under the bed.

  “Um, Boss, look what your little buddy is doing.”

  I glanced to my left and saw two hind legs extended. Jerome was standing up on his back legs, his front paws reaching up to the top of the night stand as if in search of something.

  “I have an idea,” K.C. said. “Carry on what you were doing, and ignore him.”

  “Okay,” I said with a note of suspicion. I stole a glance and saw her place her wedding ring on the night stand, then walk away.

  “Let’s see what he does,” she whispered.

  After a moment, Jerome resumed his standing position at the nightstand, batted the ring onto the floor, picked it up with his teeth and left the room.

  “I’ll be jiggered,” K.C. said.

  We found him on his bed, the ring tucked under his paw. He didn’t resist K.C. taking the jewelry away from him.

  “I think you’re going to have to consider all the possibilities, Boss.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, Jerome here may have gulped down your engagement ring. He hadn’t got to mine yet, and maybe he wouldn’t have, but it’s possible.”

  “What do I do?” I said.

  “You’re gonna have to go through his business.”

  “You mean…”

  “Yes, I do. I mean, his doodoo.” She slapped her knee. “Ha! I crack myself up. Where does he do his ah—business?”

  Jerome followed us outside, excitedly wagging his tail, ready for the next adventure.

  “I don’t believe I’m doing this. We’re actually doing this?” I said.

  “After you.” K.C. gestured for me to go ahead with a sweeping of both hands. We’d donned rubber gloves and found some left over chopsticks from the last time Alex and I got Chinese takeout.

  I kept an area in the backyard shoveled out so that Jerome could get there without sinking into the snow and so that it was easier for me to clean up.

  “How do we even know it’s here?” I said.

  “We don’t. It could be anywhere the little tike has gone.”

  I felt my jaw drop open while I thought of the ramifications. My ring could be encased at my parents, at Alex’s house or at the shop. Each time Jerome would go, I would scoop it up with a bag and put it in the outdoor trashcan.

  “If it’s not—here—I’m going to have to go digging through dumpsters and trashcans in search of bags of…”

  “Looks like it,” K.C. said, without a hint of sympathy in her voice.

  “I don’t believe we’re even talking about this, let alone standing out here.”

  “Facts of life, Boss. I once had a beagle who was partial to pearls. You can imagine how great-grandma’s necklace looked—”

  “I’m gonna stop you right there. Let’s just get this over with.” And as sick as it sounds, I said a little prayer that we would find my ring in this dissection, because I didn’t think I could handle looking for more elsewhere.

  “This is the last one, K.C. If it’s not in here I’ll have to cry.”

  The latch on the back gate rattled. Both K.C. and I startled and looked up. Alex and his mother stood in the opening.

  “Hello ladies…” Alex said, his voice thick with suspicion.

  “What’s going on over there?” Eleanor said. “Did I hear you say you were going to cry, Quincy?”

  “Alex, Eleanor…what are you up to?” I said weakly.

  “Probably not the same thing as you,” Alex said. He’d busted us. He’d probably never guess what for, but he was a cop. He knew when people were up to something.

  “Well if it isn’t my pal, Ellie and my future third husband,” K.C. said. Eleanor gave her a funny look. “We’re just taking a gander here at the business end of Quincy’s dog.”

  Eleanor shot a disgusted look in my direction. “Why on earth would you—”

  “Worms,” K.C. blurted out like a gunshot.

  “Worms?” Eleanor said in horror.

  Jerome whined, having been deeply offended.

  “He’s been acting funny lately, so Quincy asked my advice. I told her about my beagle named Buster. He had a problem with—”
r />   “He had a similar problem,” I interrupted.

  Alex fixed his gaze on me. “Have you found any results?” I was so busted.

  “Looks like we were wrong,” I said. “We didn’t find anything.”

  “Let’s go inside, it’s freezing out here.” K.C, said. She went in with Eleanor after giving me her gloves.

  Using the supplies we’d brought outside with us, I bundled up the toxic waste and took it to the trash bin, gloves included. Alex followed me.

  “Are you ready to give in?”

  “Yes, it’s freezing out here,” I said.

  “Nice try. I didn’t say go in, I said give in, which is what you should do.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I smiled and walked toward the house.

  “I still love you, even though you’ve lost your engagement ring.”

  “It isn’t lost. It’s just—not where I remember putting it.”

  “You’re stubborn, Q.”

  “It’s what you find so endearing about me.”

  “Yeah, that’s what it is,” he gave me a little pat on the behind. I turned and gave him a goofy look. We climbed the back steps into the welcoming heat of the house. “So, Mom and I just stopped by after meeting Henrietta.”

  “She decided to help her out, that’s great!” I said.

  “Mom’s really excited.”

  Eleanor came into the kitchen. “I’m excited about what, Leaky?”

  K.C. had followed in, after Eleanor. “Leaky! How in the heck did you get that nickname?”

  Alex’s face glowed with embarrassment. “Mom, did you have to?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing.” Eleanor said. “I don’t know why you get so upset about it. Now what was it I’m excited about? I heard you telling Quincy.”

  “Helping Henrietta with the contest. Q, where’s your tool box? I need to take a look at something under the sink.”

  I directed him to the basement for the tools. “Coward,” I whispered as he passed me.

  “I know when to take my exit,” he said. “I hate that nickname.”

  “I had no idea something was wrong with my sink. What are you looking for?”

  “Oh nothing.” He grinned at me and winked.

  Eleanor recounted their meeting with Henrietta, whom she was happy to assist for the contest. Hen’s ankle was still swollen and painful, but doing a little better than when I found her. Eleanor said Henrietta had warned them to come around to the side door in the car port to avoid the ice.

  “You know, it seemed really odd to me that the ice covered the entire porch,” I said.

  “Why is that?” K.C. asked. “It’s so cold out there, if there was any kind of drip it would freeze on the cement almost instantly.”

  “That’s exactly it. If there were a drip, it would pool in a certain area, freezing right where it landed. There would be patches of ice. What I saw was an even sheet, like water had been spread equally over the whole surface. And I didn’t see anywhere the water might have come from. It’s been too cold for snow to melt off the roof.”

  “You think someone did it on purpose?” Eleanor said.

  “I don’t know, but it seems a strange coincidence that Henrietta always places in the top contestants at the Jubilee. I wonder if someone was trying to prevent her from entering.”

  “The same someone who left that nasty surprise on your parents’ doorstep?” K.C. said.

  “I don’t know. I’m probably just letting my imagination run wild. Just, be careful over there, Eleanor.”

  “Thank you, Quincy. I will.”

  Alex came into the living room where we’d congregated.

  “Did you find any leaks, Leaky?” K.C. asked through her giggles.

  “And here I was going to give you a big kiss,” he said. “Too bad.”

  K.C. snapped her fingers. “Damn.”

  “I guess we’ll be on our way,” Eleanor said.

  “Did you find anything—under the sink?” I asked him.

  “No. And still, I love you. Remember that.”

  “Oh I will.” And I do.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The phone call to my parents asking them if their trash had been picked up wasn’t awkward at all. Until they asked why I wanted to know. The next thing that happened wasn’t exactly a Christmas miracle, but it was close. My dear dad volunteered to take a look for me.

  Sadly, he didn’t find anything. He also looked all around the house and opened the pipes under the bathroom and kitchen sink with no luck. I was ready to admit defeat, but I had enough distractions coming up with the weddings and the Jubilee, and with Alex’s work schedule, that I could put off talking to him about it until after New Year’s Eve.

  Distractions were good. Not having to think about how I lost something so precious was good for the moment. I wasn’t proud to say it, but I was all about denial.

  My mother was being very tight-lipped about her contest entry. I thought by now she would’ve had me running to the grocery store picking up an extra item or two, just in case she didn’t get her recipe right the first time. Maybe she’d enlisted my older sister to help her, which was perfectly fine with me.

  My mother hadn’t called me to help her with her contest entry for the Jubilee, but that didn’t stop her from calling me at work and asking me to do favors for her cohorts. And really, it was only fair. She would usually enlist my father to run around for her, but since he had done the dumpster diving for me, it was the least I could do to go and pick up clothing donations from Sherry Auerbach.

  “Hey, Boss, now that Daphne’s here, I was thinking of grabbing a bite at Skinny’s.”

  “Didn’t Elma ban you from eating there, K.C.?” Daphne asked.

  “I really don’t care if she did. I want a scone with honey butter and I’m going to have one.” She walked to the back design room with her nose in the air.

  Daphne looked at me, her brows knitted together. “Quincy, maybe you better go with her. I don’t want her to get all of us banned just because she works here. You know how Elma is.”

  I did know. Elma was the big-boned waitress at her father’s café. Her father was nicknamed Skinny and that’s what he’d named his eatery. The scones were really deep fried yeast dough and not English tea scones. Nobody knows why we call them scones in Utah, and frankly, none of us really care. A scone to us is piece of heaven that you slather with honey butter and eat too much of. Elma was cantankerous, opinionated and plain old grouchy. She was the gatekeeper between the people and their scones. And she loved every minute of that job.

  It would come as a surprise to absolutely no one that K.C. didn’t take too kindly to being told she couldn’t have or do something. And no one would be surprised to learn that Elma was up for the challenge when it came to K.C.

  All of us just worked as hard as we could to prevent the day when we had to take sides. Because given the choice between friendship and Skinny’s food—well I hate to even think of that scenario. Needless to say, K.C. would need an Elma buffer.

  “Mind if I come along, K.C.?”

  “Not at all, the more the merrier.”

  “Would you mind if we stopped at someone’s house to pick up a clothing donation?”

  “No problem, let’s go.”

  I had my own history with Elma. We’d had more than a few conflicts, many of them stemming from Elma’s crush on Alex. At first I thought her attraction to him was natural. He’s good looking, smart, polite and nice. What’s not to love? But Elma doesn’t know where to draw the line, especially when it comes to keeping her hands to herself when he’s in her general vicinity.

  We walked into Skinny’s and seated ourselves at a booth. Elma strolled over, chomping on her gum. She’d pinned a festive silk poinsettia into her beehive hairdo, which matched the fiery red lipstick, rouge, and nail polish she’d applied in thick, glistening coats.

  “Quincy,” Elma said, which was the extent of her greeting.

  “We won’t waste any of you
r time, Elma,” K.C. said. “I’d like a Joe’s breakfast with a scone instead of toast.” The food at Skinny’s was named for the favorite dishes of regular patrons.

  “I’ll have an Ernie with a scone and a hot chocolate, please,” I said.

  “How’s your mother,” Elma asked.

  “Oh, she’s good, excited for the Jubilee.”

  “Heard you got engaged,” she said in time between chomps of her gum.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Where’s your ring?” she said as she gave me the stink-eye. “I can’t imagine a class act like Alex wouldn’t give you a ring.” She looked down at the order pad in her hand. “Not that you deserve one,” she muttered.

  K.C. slammed her hand down on the table. I shot her a look.

  “I take my ring off to work, so I don’t lose it.” Was I a hypocrite or what? “Thanks for asking. I’ll make sure and tell Alex.”

  Elma stared at me for an awkwardly long time. “You know, I’m competing in the Jubilee this year.”

  “Oh really? That’s great.”

  “I’m entering the desserts category.”

  “That’s—great—Elma,” I said with a little less enthusiasm than before.

  Elma said nothing else and left to bark out our orders to the kitchen.

  “Do you believe the nerve of that woman?” K.C. said. “She’s buttering you up for a vote too. Did you misunderstand the rules? Maybe there’s a list circulating with your name on it. Maybe everyone but me knows who the judges are.”

  “I don’t think so, but don’t you see? This proves that it’s just a coincidence that Belinda blurted out her mother was competing in desserts. She probably just couldn’t think of anything nice to say, so she does what she always does—brag about her mother.”

  “How do you figure this proves any of that?” K.C. asked.

  “Because Elma wouldn’t butter up to me if I was the last—thing to butter up to—on earth. Elma doesn’t like me. She doesn’t like anyone, except Alex. I think that announcing she was going to be in the contest was just her way of trying to one up me or anyone in my family. This just proves what I’ve been thinking.”