“But not which cousins go with which set of parents.” He parked near the stairs to my place. “Heather, thanks for asking me. You have a great family.” He sounded whimsical again.
“Thanks for being so nice to my grandmothers.” Before I had time to think, I asked, “Would you like a walk in Grandma’s garden?”
“Sure.” He was out of the car and around to my door in a flash.
“We can let Rascal see himself up the stairs. He’s so tired from playing with Nana’s dog that he’ll probably go to sleep.” I stood at the bottom of the steps. “Go home, boy.”
Rascal didn’t argue, but bounded up and flopped in front of the door.
I set the empty casserole dish on the third tread and turned toward the brick walk. “We open these gardens in the spring and early fall. Usually get a large crowd, more in April than late September.” I indicated the Victorian gazebo near the back. “Grandpa and I give lectures on gardening and sometimes we have guest speakers.”
We walked toward the rose arbor over the garden swing. Nearby, a small waterfall led to a lily pond. I sat on the old-fashioned wooden swing.
Kurt joined me. “Great place. Restful. Smells nice, too.”
“Nice?” I nudged his shoulder. “It smells heavenly. In the daytime, you can see the Koi swim and feed. The flower colors are a lovely display. I love it here.”
He leaned back and appeared to relax. After a few minutes, he sat up and cleared his throat. “Heather, um, I saw you with Devlin Douglas the other night. And, and, tonight someone mentioned you’d gone out with him last night, too.”
Leave it to my relatives to not only know my private life, but share it with Kurt. Was he jealous? Ha, I should be so lucky. “I suppose this is heading somewhere?”
He exhaled. “Yeah. I wanted to tell you to be careful. Douglas is a suspect in the Rockwell case.”
“I see, what you call a ‘person of interest.’ But then that’s good news for Walter, isn’t it?”
He looked even more uncomfortable. “Heather, I’m sorry. In spite of my report and my arguments with him on it, the DA plans to take Mr. Simm’s case to the Grand Jury this week.”
My heart broke a little for Walter. If only I could uncover a clue to help him. “That stinks. He didn’t do it.”
“I hope not, but I need proof. Circumstantial evidence all points to Mr. Sims.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “What else did you learn about the Ormond family?”
“I went with Devlin last night to the symphony in Dallas. Then we went by Rockwell’s office so Devlin could retrieve some files.”
He swiveled toward me. “Computer?”
“No, and even if I’d had time, I was never alone with the computer. Devlin took some folders from Rockwell’s desk but he kept the labels turned away from me. Look, I don’t want you to tell him or anyone I gave you this information.”
Holding up a hand. “I’m not going to rat you out.”
I told him about the photo and about Grandpa’s experience investing with Rockwell.
“Kurt, it must mean that Ormond and Mr. Denby bought into the company, too. Frank Ormond killed himself because he was in debt. His family lost their home. Millie is a nervous little thing, frightened of her own shadow, and she couldn’t hold a job for more than a week or two. Of course, Buck and Bubba probably never tried very hard.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like Gigi was right—if it weren’t for Sharee, the whole family would starve.” He slid his arm around my shoulders.
Now that was as nice as I’d known it would be. Not that I’d thought about it, of course.
We sat quietly, the swing moving gently to and fro. The moon was on the wane, but showed bright with a small crescent-shaped slice from it.
“You seeing Douglas again?”
“Probably, since I’m working at his mom’s estate and he’s staying there for another week or so.”
“I don’t mean seeing him as in talking to him. Are you going out with him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” When I heard his exasperated huff, I said, “Look what I found out that you hadn’t. Besides, he’s pleasant company.”
He cupped my face. “Heather, someone committed a brutal murder. The second one will take less thought. You have to be careful, not only for yourself but also for your family.”
His tone sent chills of apprehension up my spine. “I am. I will be.”
“By inviting a suspect into your home and taking him to meet your family?”
So maybe he was a tiny bit jealous. I hoped. “Devlin hasn’t met my family, except my aunt and cousins at the restaurant. He also didn’t come inside my apartment.”
A smile spread across his face. “Now that’s welcome news.” He leaned down and kissed me.
What a kiss. My mind shut down again and hormones took charge of my body. He deepened the kiss and my shoes about shot off my feet. Things were moving along nicely until I sensed his hand on my bare skin.
I realized where we were and pulled away. “My grandparents are likely sitting on the screened-in porch over there.”
He muttered a curse under his breath. “Can we go up to your apartment?” He looked desperate.
I shared his desperation, but I shook my head. “Lights on in my apartment, and your car still here. Why not just place an ad in the newspaper?”
He leaned back and set the swing jostling. “Can’t take a late night walk, can’t go to your apartment. Everyone knows every move you make.” He shook his head. “What a way to live. By the way, three of your cousins gave me a warning not to play fast and loose with you.”
“My cousins? Oh.” Why didn’t I think to warn him? Or them? “I told you I’m related to half the town and that I have absolutely no privacy. I—I hope your weren’t offended.”
“I don’t scare off so easily, but I have to tell you that dating you is tough.”
He was interested in me, enough that my heavy-handed cousins didn’t send him running? That thought cheered me. “Are you? Officially dating me, I mean.”
He stood and pulled me to my feet. “You’re as annoying as hell at times, but yeah, I guess I am.”
“Why, detective. Such praise is bound to turn my head.” I wanted to ask about Jennifer McGregor, but didn’t want to spoil the mood. His or mine.
He walked me to the foot of the stairs. “Warnings aside, thanks for one of the nicest evenings I’ve had in a long time.” Then, as if our passionate lip-lock minutes ago hadn’t occurred, he kissed me softly on the forehead. “See you soon.”
“Goodnight.” I have to admit what I really wanted was to ask him to come upstairs and stay for a while. Like all night. Instead, I picked up my dish and climbed the stairs. As I’d expected, he didn’t get into his car until I’d unlocked my door and gone inside.
Rascal headed for his bed, but I leaned against the closed door. “What do you think of that, Rascal? Three evenings out in as many days, and now I’m officially dating the hunky detective. This has been quite a weekend.”
Chapter Sixteen
Mondays were always our slowest day at the garden center. I supposed everyone was tired from the weekend and catching up on other things. I could have used some catching up time myself, but I went in early. I stayed with it until I’d finished the design for a customer. Then, I heard Chelsea come in and the slam of the cupboard as she put away her purse.
I stood and stepped to the doorway between my office and the showroom. “You’re early.”
Chelsea picked up a spray bottle and cloth and started cleaning. “Don’t you look chipper this morning? Is a man responsible for that glow?”
Today Chelsea was wearing an oversized green garden center shirt cinched with a rhinestone studded belt. Her pleated gray miniskirt showed off her tanned legs, and she wore rhinestone covered flip flops that drew attention to the butterfly tattoo on her ankle.
“I had a terrific weekend, but the glow is from all the sun on Friday and Saturday morning.”
Chelsea looked up from cle
aning the counter. “Yeah, right. And I’m Queen Elizabeth.”
I gave her an evil smile. “Would that be the virgin queen or the one now on the throne?”
She laughed. “Guess it’d have to be the current one due to the requirements for the first. How did your date go on Saturday?”
“Great, I guess.” I filled her in on the evening. “Then on Sunday, Kurt Steele asked me out.”
“Ohmygosh, and I thought you were going to your Nana’s birthday celebration and here you’re turning into a party-hearty girl all of a sudden.” She danced over to hip bounce me before she resumed dusting. “Way to go.”
“It’d be difficult to place any of my outings in that category. Kurt went with me to Nana’s. Not the festivity you meant or one you’d want to attend.” I leaned against the doorjamb. “Nothing but covered dishes, birthday cake, punch, and family. No Chippendales, no keg, no DJ, no dancing.”
She threw her cleaning cloth at me. “I’m not that shallow.”
I rolled my eyes at her and tossed back the towel.
She laughed. “Okay, I am, but I resent you pointing it out. And a couple of your cousins are cute enough to be Chippendales. Say, aren’t you supposed to be somewhere else?”
“I was waiting until eight to return a few phone messages. Then I’ll go over to the Rockwell site before I meet with Mrs. Forrest to give her a quote on a feng shui design for her back yard.”
I walked to where she’d set up the displays for my project she’d completed. One featured photos of native plants that adapt to little water and required almost no care. A second showed photos of the heritage plants for which we carried seed packets grown by Felicia Tucker. The other was a similar photo display of native plants that were poisonous with the anecdote and poison control hotline number. Flyers at each display contained the plant information. I stood back and admired the effect.
“Are you still happy with them?”
I said, “They turned out well, didn’t they? I especially wanted the poisonous plant display to let people know the dangers of these plants in case they have small children or pets who might eat them.”
Martha strode in with her usual brisk style and switched the Open neon sign on. “Getting an early start are we? Looks like a lovely day.”
My stomach clenched with memories of the murder and Walter’s arrest. “This week’s bound to be better than the last. Hope there are no more murders in town, especially none even remotely associated with Gillentine Gardens.”
Martha widened her eyes and nodded. “Poor Walter. Well, I’ll just finish watering the perennials, shall I?” She slipped on an apron and went outside.
Chelsea paused in her polishing. “Heather, what’s happening with Walter?”
“Nothing.” I told her about my efforts, wishing I had something promising to offer, and that the DA was asking for indictment today. “I’ll let you know if I learn anything new. Did you go visit Walter this weekend?”
“I told you I’d go since you’d be tied up with your Nana’s party.” She looked out the window, where Martha could be seen spraying water onto the table of begonias, petunias, and daisies. “Martha and I visited him yesterday. Ohmygosh, I’m so glad she was with me.”
“Depressing place, isn’t it?”
“It was awful. I almost threw up.” She shook her head. “Walter looks like he’s aged five years.”
“I know. It makes me want to hug him. Since I can’t, I can hardly keep from crying.” I took a deep breath, pushing down the depression. “I’m glad Martha went with you.”
She looked out at Martha. “Frankly, I think she’s a little bit sweet on the old coot.” Chelsea turned back. “Heather, you have to find some way to get Walter out of that place.”
“I thought you wanted me to fire him.”
She held up a hand. “I know, I know. I gripe about him all the time. And I’ll deny it if you tell anyone, but I really like the old guy. I’m aware Scott Ferguson is trying to do something, and your policeman appears to be, but you keep at it also.”
My policeman? Why did people keep saying that? “He’s not my policeman, but I definitely plan to continue looking for clues.” In fact, I had plans for later today.
Ignoring my remark about the policeman, Chelsea said, “Martha and I will keep things going. Steve’s already started the outside crew.” She nodded toward the nursery section.
We exchanged plans for the day and I went into my office to answer the stack of pink memos that had piled up.
When I’d dealt with everything urgent, I told Chelsea I was leaving and swung by the Rockwells. After turning in their drive, I stopped to admire the flowerbeds on each side.
I stepped out of the car to pull two yellow leaves off a beautyberry. Great use of colors and textures, if I did say so myself. Satisfied, I drove in and parked near where the men worked on Bootsy’s English garden.
“The work, it goes well,” Miguel told me. He spent a few minutes showing me what they’d accomplished since I’d seen the work. The garden was taking shape and it gave me a thrill to see my design transferred from paper to showplace.
After consulting with Miguel and giving the workmen thumbs up, I walked back to my car. “Looks as if you have everything under control here, so I’ll go to Mrs. Forrest’s as scheduled. Call if you need me.”
Miguel walked with me. “Sí, and Steve or Chelsea, they also will call you if there are problems.” He waved a hand as if shooing me. “Vaya.”
I laughed. “I’m going, I’m going.”
***
Mrs. Forrest was the kind of client I adore. She loved my design, agreed to my quote, and signed the contract. We decided work would start in two weeks. The plants were ones the center had in stock. I couldn’t be happier. Appeared she couldn’t be either. How often does that happen? Elated at my small success, I drove away from the Forrest home.
It had occurred to me last night that Millie Ormond lived on the same side of town as Mrs. Forrest, though hardly in the same neighborhood. Earlier I’d copied the address out of the phone book, and now I turned in at the drive. Apparently, Millie and her not-so-charming boys lived in a mobile home park. I stopped at the first trailer, which had an “Office” sign in the window.
The woman who answered the door wore a neon lime housecoat, had frizzy rust-colored hair, and carried a matching rust colored yapping dog. A Pomeranian, I thought. The woman shifted the dog and narrowed her eyes at my request for directions, but pointed toward the back. “Nineteen. Double-wide that worthless daughter of hers bought for Millie and them boys.”
As I drove toward number nineteen, I wondered if the woman had considered that a worthless daughter generally doesn’t buy her mother anything. She managed a convenience store, and supplemented her income with what she earned on her back. Not that I approved of Sharee’s choice for extra income, but she was supporting herself and three family members. That had to be worth something.
Number nineteen was neatly landscaped, and I wondered where the plants were purchased. Looking around, I noted the detached garage that matched the home and sat perpendicular to it, a patio beside the garage, and a storage shed barely visible against a fence. I quit rubbernecking and started to knock, but noticed Millie kneeling by a flowerbed. Beside her, a small pile of weeds lay shriveling in the heat.
“Mrs. Ormond?”
Millie looked up. “Yes,” she said quietly then stood and pulled off her gloves. She was a small woman. Guessing her age, she must have married young. Today she was wearing turquoise capri pants and a pink floral top. Her dark hair had the look of enhanced color, and she had a pink visor clipped to her head. I had learned she worked part-time as an aide at the nursing home, a job I’d find impossibly hard and depressing.
I offered what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m a friend of Walter Sims and I’d like to ask you a few questions if you have time.”
She looked back at the house. “My boys are sleeping. Why don’t we step over to the picnic table?”
I followed her. When we’d each sat down, she looked at me expectantly.
I launched in to my reason for coming. “You know Walter Sims is in jail, accused of Vance Rockwell’s death?”
She nodded and clamped her lips in a thin line.
“I believe he’s innocent, but I need proof. Please tell me what you know about Vance Rockwell’s relationship with people here in Gamble Grove.”
She crossed her arms and glared with more spirit than I realized she had. “So you can say me or my kin killed Vance?”
“No. Well, not unless you did.”
“No one hated him as much as me, but I didn’t kill him. Neither did one of my kids.”
“Mrs. Ormond, I know your late husband was his cousin. I wondered if you know things Rockwell did to your husband and others here in town that would have caused hatred for him.”
“Maybe. That’s the police’s business. Let them ask me if they want to know.”
“I’m sure they’ll get around to it, but I can’t take a chance with Walter’s life. He and my grandfather taught me to love gardening. He’s like a member of my family. I have to find out everything I can to help him.”
She raised her chin. “He keeps company with my Sharee sometimes.”
“I know they’re friends, but he wasn’t visiting her the night Rockwell died. Won’t you tell me about your husband and Rockwell?”
She stared at me, as if undecided. For a minute I thought she intended to refuse, but then she took a deep breath and said, “They grew up together, their mothers were sisters. Parents lived two houses from one another over on Spring Street. They were real close, even after Vance went off to college and Frank started the garage.”
“Did Rockwell come back here after college?”
“He came home and stayed for a while. His grandmother still lived here then. His Daddy owned several businesses and Vance helped run them, but they had some kind of falling out.”
“Do you know why?”
She shook her head. “My guess is Vance was skimming from his dad, but neither man ever said. Vance, he went off to Dallas and him and George Douglas started that business of theirs.”
Digging For Death Page 15