“No. We seem to be completely snake-free. I’m sure you’ll hear me screaming if we’re not.”
Brad laughed and said, “Hey, have you two met Pete? This is Pete Fleming, our new neighbor. He bought the book store.
“Pete, meet Daisy and Rose Forrest. They own Champagne Taste.”
“Peter.” Peter smiled politely and said, “We haven’t met exactly. Rose kindly retrieved a letter that I dropped, though it got damp in the process.”
Rose smiled in return and said, “Sorry about that. I was hot.”
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I was abominably rude. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you. Maybe I could buy you a cup of coffee?”
“Sure, if you could make it lemonade instead.”
“Lemonade it is. Whenever you’re free.”
Rose thought for a minute and looked at Daisy who just raised her eyebrows and smiled.
“Well, actually, I’m free this morning.”
“Good. Perhaps we could try the Tavern.”
“We could. It’s nice.”
Rose glanced out the window and saw a young woman jogging up the street, bright blue walking weights in her hands and a water bottle strapped to her waist.
“Lord love a duck, look at that. Who in her right mind would run at this time of day?”
The woman looked into the window and stopped running. Then she opened the shop door and came in. She was cute in an athletic sort of way, in her late twenties, short with red, curly hair and freckles.
“Wow, I cannot believe how hot it is,” she panted. “Too hot to be jogging really, but I don’t want to get out of shape.” She looked at Brad and cooed, “Is it all right if I cool off in here?”
Brad grinned, “Abby! Sure, come on in. I was hoping you’d stop by again. Abby and I met the other day. She’s staying with Mrs. Hudson.”
Daisy gave her a smile. “Of course. Sarah Hudson’s niece. I’m Daisy and this is my sister Rose. We’re your neighbors.”
“Oh, sure. I met Rose last summer.”
“And this is Peter Fleming. He’s the new kid on the block.”
Peter gave a nod.
Rose said, “I just saw Sarah the other day. I think she’s afraid you’re bored with nothing to do but look after her.”
“She’s crazy. I love being with her. And I’ve already made some friends. And Brad has been so nice.” She planted a big, wet one on his cheek. “And don’t you just love this shop?”
Brad smiled like an idiot and Daisy elbowed Rose and whispered, “Did you bring a barf bag?”
Rose whispered back, “I think she’s cute.”
Peter Fleming turned away from the public display of affection and looked around the shop. He spotted a curio box hanging behind the counter and said, “Is that Mantle’s rookie card?”
Rose looked at him in surprise. “You know baseball? I’m surprised.” To Brad she said, “Daisy said you had a real collector’s item. Is that it?”
Brad took the box down from the wall and put it on the counter.
“Yep. It’s a family heirloom.”
“You really shouldn’t keep this in here. It must be worth a fortune. It’s in absolutely mint condition.”
“I know. I put it in the safe at night. But I figure what’s the point of having something like this if you hide it away. It’s something else, huh?”
“As you say, it’s a real treasure!”
Abby cried, “I love Mickey Mantle.”
Daisy said, “Of course you do.” Brad grinned like a school kid.
Rose gave Daisy a look and said, “We’d better be going. Come on Peter, I’m getting thirsty.”
Brad said, “Thanks for bringing my mail by. I think that old lady is really losing it!”
They were almost out the door when Rose turned and said, “I told your aunt we’d have a sort of get-to-know-you dinner for you. How about Sunday? We’ll cook out. And if Peter can make it too, you could both meet some of the neighbors.”
“Sunday’s good for me,” said Brad. Abby nodded.
Peter said, “I do happen to be free. That would be very nice.”
“Great. Sunday, six o’clock, burgers on the grill.”
Daisy, Rose and Peter Fleming left Brad showing Abby around the shop and started down the street toward the Tavern.
As they walked Daisy asked Peter, “Is that card of Brad’s really worth a lot?”
“I believe so.”
“Wow. You know, he showed it to me the other day and it looked different. The colors looked darker.”
Peter smiled and said, “It was probably the light. I don’t think he’d have two of them!”
Daisy said, “Me neither. And what do I know about baseball cards anyway? Not a thing.”
They got to the corner and Daisy turned toward Champagne Taste.
Peter said, “Daisy, I hope you’ll join us.”
“I’d love to, but I’m working this afternoon and need to get a few things done.”
“You want me to bring you something?” asked Rose.
“No, thanks. I’m good.” She waved and veered off toward the shop.
Mattie was at the reception desk looking only marginally better than she did the day before. She smiled when she saw Rose and was introduced to Peter.
“It’s always nice to have some new blood in the area. Will you keep the shop as it is? Or will you be heading in a different direction?”
“Well, this is really going to be a hobby and I must admit feeling a bit like a dilettante around all you hard working professionals. For now I’m just going to keep it as it is.”
Rose smiled and said, “I don’t think anyone here would consider you a dilettante. After all you’re a hard working professor of… English? That would certainly be book related. And really, we’re just happy the shop isn’t sitting empty.”
“We are that,” said Mattie as she led them to a corner booth. “I’m glad we met. I hope you enjoy your meal.”
As Rose and Peter sat down, she asked, “Was I right? You teach English?”
“Sorry, no. Philosophy. How do you know I teach at all?”
“Small town, big grapevine. You will have no secrets here.”
“I see. Well, I spend my time trying to encourage young minds to consider diverse ideas. However, I find that most are so entrenched in their own popular culture that the musings of Sartre or Plato, or even Christ for that matter, are of little interest. Perhaps I’m asking too much.”
“Well, you are probably making more of an impact on them than you think. It amazes me how much I remember from college. And, Lord knows, I wasn’t the most serious student on the campus.”
“More interested in culturally deficient old movies, I assume.”
“Huh?”
“Rocky? I’m sure you must have had some higher aspirations.”
“Oh, I did. I aspired to fool around with my fiancé in every building on campus. And I will have you know, we almost did. When push came to shove though, we drew the line at the chapel. That just didn’t seem right.”
“You had a sexual encounter in every building?”
“Well, it was a small campus. Boy, you make it sound so clinical. We were just young and in love and having a lot of fun.”
“Are you serious? I find that rather appalling.”
“I am serious. Are you? You never went to parties? Got a little looped?”
He shook his head. “I’ve always taken life quite seriously.”
“That must be tiring.” Rose sat up straight and did a little wavy thing with her fingers. “Well, this is good. Getting to know each other. I really am sorry about the other morning. I was hot and I shouldn’t have thrown your letter in the puddle.”
“True. Apology accepted.”
A waitress came over to the table and Peter said, “A lemonade and a black coffee. No need to bring any cream or sugar.”
“Oh, sorry. I’ve changed my mind,” chirped Rose. “Iced tea with lemon. And I’d love some sugar.”
“I thought you wanted lemonade. I don’t like sudden changes.”
“Sudden changes? Oh. Well, it’s not like I suddenly changed into a man or something. You’re a bit inflexible, aren’t you? Just a thought, but if you lightened up a little, maybe your students would take more interest.”
Their waitress put their drinks on the table and asked, “Anything else?”
“I don’t think so, but let me check.” Peter looked at Rose and asked, “Rose, do you care for anything else?” He sounded snippy.
She smiled. “No, I’m just ducky. Thanks.” The waitress left and Peter continued, “So you think I should lower my standards and teach pop philosophy? I really don’t understand that kind of thinking.”
“I never said you should lower your standards. I’m just thinking like a twenty year old.”
“Well, you should be thinking like an adult.” His voice was rising. “And so should they. That is what these students should be. Adults. But they are coddled and spoiled by their parents and society. And now you want me to do the same.”
“You sure listen with an accent. I never said anything like that.” She spoke slowly and quietly.
“I believe you did.”
“Did not.” Rose was holding two packets of sugar over her tea.
“I guess a woman who spent her college years in pursuit of carnal pleasures would think that way.”
Rose stood up calmly. “Carnal pleasures? That’s a really stuffy way of putting it. Well, it’s been great getting to know you. Enjoy your coffee.” She dumped the sugar into Peter’s cup, turned and walked out of the restaurant.
Chapter Four
“I cannot believe what I did! I told him all about Paul! I hardly know the man and I’m not sure I even like him. Why would I do that?”
Rose was sitting in the sunroom sipping lemonade and sighing while Daisy opened that morning’s mail.
“You told him about Paul? Well, it’s a little early to bring up your ex, but he’d have to find out sometime. You didn’t start crying or anything, did you?”
“Crying? No. Oh! No, I didn’t tell him about the biggest heartbreak of my life. I told him that we fooled around in almost every building on campus! He must think I’m a total slut.”
“I never knew you did that. With Paul?”
“What? Of course, with Paul. Who did you think I’d be fooling around with? The football team?”
Daisy started laughing. “I’ll bet you got his attention. Isn’t that what you wanted? He is handsome and the snobby stuff could just be nerves. New place, new people. I’ll bet he’s really a nice guy when he’s relaxed.”
“I’m not sure the man relaxes, and I don’t think I’ll ever find out. I doubt he’ll want to see me again. I got mad and dumped sugar in his coffee. Then I walked out in a huff.”
“So either he’s kicking himself right now for being a jerk. Or he’s not. Nothing you can do about it.”
Daisy started laughing. “You and Paul! The whole campus. I love it. Even the heating plant? I could never find a way in.”
Suddenly she let out a yelp. “Wow! Look at this!”
She and Rose were staring at a pile of bills, mostly fives and tens, and some twenties that Daisy had just taken out of a large manila envelope.
Rose started counting. “Holy mother of pearl, there’s almost a thousand dollars here.” She took the envelope and looked at the label. “We have to put this back. It’s not ours.”
“Well, whose is it?”
Rose looked at the envelope. “I don’t know. It’s been forwarded, and the name on the label is smeared. But it’s to Box 768, the one right next to ours. Peggy must have put it in our box by mistake.”
Daisy said, “Maybe there’s a note or something.”
Rose said, “It doesn’t matter. Just put it all back and we’ll take it over to the post office tomorrow. This is not our business.”
Daisy said, “It won’t hurt to find out who should get this. We can return it to them directly.” She shook the envelope and a slip of paper fell onto the table.
“Uh-oh. This doesn’t sound too good. ‘This is all I have. I can’t come up with any more. Do whatever you’re going to do.’” She looked at Rose and said, “What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” She took the note from Daisy and looked at it. “Maybe I just have a really suspicious nature, but this sounds like it could be blackmail money. Is that crazy?”
Rose put the note on the table. Then she picked it up again and looked more closely. “This is bad. I’m pretty sure Mattie Clover wrote this.”
“How can you tell?”
Rose walked over to her desk and pulled a sheet of paper from a folder. “Here. Mattie’s organizing the Fourth of July picnic. She gave me this to-do list. Look. The handwriting’s the same.”
Daisy studied the list. “You’re right. Well, clearly something is going on. And it’s not anything good. What should we do?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe talk to Mattie and see if we can help in some way. You know, I wonder…”
“What? You wonder what?” asked Daisy.
“Well, if someone is blackmailing Mattie, maybe they’re blackmailing other people too.”
Daisy said, “You’re thinking of Sally Henderson, aren’t you? I think you’re making a bit of an assumption here. We don’t know if this is blackmail. We don’t know who Mattie was sending money to or why. It could be anything, a sick relative. Who knows?”
“I think we have to talk to Mattie. What else can we do?”
Late Friday afternoon Daisy said, “Mother called and said she’d be here by 7:30. We’d better get changed. She’s been looking forward to this all week.” A Hitchcock retrospective was playing at the Dupont Theatre in downtown Washington.
“Which movie?” Rose asked.
“Her favorite, Spellbound.” They heard a car door and Daisy said, “Speak of the pixilated angel. She’s early.”
“Are my girls ready for a night out?” Angela called as she came tripping into the shop through the hall door. “You really should keep your front door locked, you know.”
She stood in the doorway wearing a flowing, mid-calf length, belted, green shirtwaist dress with shoulder pads and matching green peep-toe heels. Her golden hair was pulled up on the sides into rolls held with tortoiseshell-colored combs.
“You look lovely and so very 1940’s. You’re putting us to shame. We’ll be ready in a couple of minutes,” said Rose looking down at the shorts and tee shirt she had been wearing all afternoon.
“Well, hurry up. The show starts at eight-thirty and we need time to get popcorn.”
A few minutes later Daisy and Rose came down the stairs looking cool and comfortable. Rose was wearing a yellow and white flowered shift and Daisy had on a blue voile tunic that brought out the blue of her eyes and white capris. As they were leaving Daisy said, “Just a sec,” and ran back into the office.
“All set,” she said putting something into her purse.
Rose asked, “What’s that?”
“Nothing. I’ll drive.”
They hopped into Daisy’s ruby red Subaru and headed to Washington, D.C. Rush hour was winding down, and most of the traffic was leaving the city. Traffic going south as they drove along Piney Branch Road was practically non-existent.
Daisy said, “Wow, this is spooky. I feel like Jeff Goldblum and Judd Hirsch in Independence Day driving into Washington on that empty road, as everybody in the entire city is pouring out of it on the other side of the highway.”
Rose chimed in, “Which was always a problem for me. I mean, really, if everybody and his mother is trying to escape alien creatures who are about to blow us all to smithereens, would we all be so law-abiding that we wouldn’t be using both sides of the highway? That’s just silly.”
“But if people had done that, Jeff Goldblum wouldn’t have been able to save the world and we wouldn’t be her
e to go to a movie this evening, would we?” asked Angela.
Daisy looked sideways at her mother and said, “It wasn’t real, Mother. It was a movie.”
“Well, yes, but you never know, do you?”
Having no answer to that, Daisy just shook her head and turned onto Sixteenth Street, NW. They cruised down Sixteenth and finally cut through Adams Morgan on Columbia Road, turning left onto Connecticut Avenue.
They were approaching Dupont Circle when Rose pointed to her right and said, “Parking lot right there.”
“There’s a small detour I want to make first.” She continued to the Circle, veered off onto P Street, made a quick left onto 20th Street and pulled over to the curb.
She took a piece of paper out of her pocket and read “1421. There it is.”
“What is?” asked Rose.
Just as Daisy pointed out the window to a beautiful brick row-house near the corner, she hissed, “Get down. He’ll see us.”
As Rose automatically ducked her head she hissed back, “Who will see us?”
Angela sat up straight and looked out the window. “Is it the ‘bobber’ again? Where?”
“Mother, why would the ‘bobber’ be here? No. It’s Peter Fleming coming out of his door. That’s where he lives.”
“Daisy, are you nuts? What, we’re in high school again driving past boys’ houses?”
Daisy whispered, “Oh come on, Rose. You know you’re curious about the man. And since we were down here anyway, I thought we’d just explore. Has he gone, Mother?”
“Not really,” answered Angela as she rolled down the window and said, “Why, hello there.”
Daisy sat up with a jerk and looked at Peter Fleming’s handsome face peering in the window. He said, “I thought I saw you over here. This is certainly a surprise. Is something wrong? You look a bit lost.”
Rose sat up with what dignity she could muster and said, “Oh no, not lost. We’re going to see Hitchcock at the Dupont. I was hunting for my umbrella.” She held up a tightly rolled blue mini-brella.”
He looked at the cloudless blue sky and said, “It’s not raining.”
“Well, you can never be too careful. Summer storms can be so unpredictable.”
He nodded. “Yes they can.”
Roses are Dead My Love Page 3