by Diane Capri
I took out my phone and called Ginny. “Hey, question…does the hotel happen to have a key to June’s shop?”
“No, why?”
“I need to get in to check some stuff out.”
“Why don’t you just ask June?”
“Because of her pain-in-the-butt lawyer.”
“The one you called?” she asked.
“Yes, but I didn’t know she was going to freeze me out when I made the call.”
“Sorry, my friend. Guess you’re going to have to find another way.”
I hung up and then stared at the door, wondering how I was going to get in without doing something illegal or unethical.
“You’re not planning on breaking in are you?”
His voice startled me, but I didn’t turn as the sheriff stepped up beside me.
“No, of course not.”
“Good, because then I’d have to arrest you.”
“I’m pretty sure you threatened me with that when we first met.” I couldn’t stop the small grin that spread over my face.
His lips also twitched up. “So, what are you doing here?”
“Trying to prove that June didn’t kill Brittany Gervais.” I turned toward him. “If poison from a plant was used, there is no way June had the opportunity to do it. She and Brittany disliked each other. They had a falling out at some point, so June only saw Brittany, like, once a year at the Flower Festival. Besides that, June might not even have the possible murder weapon in her possession. With some expert advice, we narrowed the deadly plants down to three possibilities—hemlock, oleander, and foxglove.”
He nodded. “The expert I talked to basically said the same thing. Who did you talk to?”
I made a face and wouldn’t look at him. “Um, Nora Gray and Kris Houston.”
“Your experts are two eighty-year-old women who have often catcalled me from across the street?”
I gave him a look. “You’d be surprised what they know.”
“Yeah, I probably would be.” He took a step toward the door, took out a key, and unlocked it.
“What are you doing?”
“I have a search warrant.” He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and showed it to me.
“Do you know what you’re looking for?”
He nodded. “I have an idea what the plants look like.”
“Okay, so you can tell the difference between hemlock and yarrow or fennel? And foxglove and comfrey or borage? And sometimes oleander is mistaken for wild roses or St. John’s wart.”
He stared dumbly at me.
“That’s what I thought. Obviously, my experts were more thorough than yours.”
He sighed. “Fine. You can come along, but don’t touch anything.”
“You don’t have an extra pair of gloves?” I asked.
“No.”
“Good thing I just happened to bring my own, then,” I smiled sweetly, reaching into my pocket to pull mine out and glove up.
He entered the shop, and I followed behind. After snapping on his gloves, the sheriff turned on the lights, and we went around the counter to the back of the shop, where both the cold storage and June’s office were located.
When we entered the office, Sheriff Jackson went to turn on her computer.
“If you’re looking for her orders, they’d be in a filing cabinet. She keeps records of everything on paper.”
“How do you know that?”
“She told me, plus everything she does with the hotel has a paper trail. Samuel hates using the computer. Every order from the hotel is hand-delivered to June. I know. I’ve had to do those deliveries.”
The tall metal filing cabinet sat in the corner. Sheriff Jackson opened the first drawer. All the files were listed by date, and there were a lot of them. He pulled out one file and flipped through it.
“I’ll have to get a couple of deputies to box up the files and bring them to the station so we can go through them. There’s no way I can read them on my own. There’s too many.” He put the file back and closed the drawer.
“Let’s check the cold storage,” I said.
The big cooler had a heavy metal door, like a freezer in a restaurant. The sheriff opened it and a waft of cool air hit me in the face. I shivered and followed him in. The large room contained several work tables, shelves of vases and pots, a large sink, and three refrigeration units with glass doors. All her work tools were hanging on one wall—shears, trowels, and others I didn’t know the names of.
The sheriff opened one refrigeration unit and scoured the glass shelves. Some of the flowers and plants were tied in bundles. Others were already potted in decorative containers. His eyes narrowed, and he pointed to one shelf where there was a cluster of weed-like plants with tiny white flowers.
“That looks like hemlock,” he said.
I shooed him out of the way and peered at the plant. I shook my head. “That’s baby’s breath, not hemlock.”
He closed the door and then opened the next unit. There was nothing in there that jumped out at me as potentially offending plants. As he opened the door of the third unit, I spotted a splash of pink, and my heart slammed into my chest. Slowly, he opened the door and peered inside. He pointed to the pink bell-like flowers.
“Is that foxglove?” he asked.
I came in closer to the flowers, not wanting it to be true. I peered at the stem and leaves and the flowers, and let out the breath I was holding. “Those are snapdragons.”
“Are you sure?”
I took out my phone and scrolled through my photos. I showed him a close-up picture of the foxglove growing in Kris and Nora’s greenhouse. “This is foxglove. See how the flower is really bell shaped, and see the spots on the inside of the petals?”
“Right.” He nodded but then his gaze lifted. “Do they come in other colors?”
“Yeah, purple, white…”
“How about yellow?”
I peered toward the flowers he was pointing at, and my stomach sank.
There were three bunches of pale-yellow foxglove on the second shelf.
Chapter 15
“This doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” I pointed out. “They are pretty flowers, and she likely uses them in arrangements.”
“But it could mean something,” he replied. “We can’t ignore that she has the plants on hand.”
“There’s no reason June would kill Brittany, Sheriff. I’m pretty sure June had an affair with Brittany’s husband, Simon, five years ago. That’s when their friendship ended. Why would June kill her now?” I put my hand up. “And please don’t tell me June’s motive was this stupid flower-arranging contest. I simply don’t believe June would kill Brittany over that, and no one else will believe it, either.”
He shrugged. “Dunno. Here’s what I do know. Brittany is divorced. Got divorced four years ago. Maybe Simon left Brittany for June but then decided to go back to his wife. That could have made June angry enough to kill.”
I still didn’t believe it. “Have you found Simon?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I sent a deputy out to his house on the mainland. He wasn’t home, and there was a bunch of mail jammed into his mailbox. Like several weeks’ worth, maybe more.”
“Seems to me you have a missing ex-husband with a motive.”
He gave me a look. “What motive?”
“I’m guessing there was life insurance, right?”
“We’re looking into it, Andi.” He gave me a sincere look. “I know you don’t want June to be guilty. Heck, I don’t want her to be guilty, but until we solve this case, I have to look at all possibilities.”
“Exactly,” I said, “which is why you should look into this Tyler guy and Brittany’s sister. What was her name?”
“Tracy Hamlin.”
“Those two had the means and the opportunity. Much more opportunity than June had.”
“Like I said, I’m considering everything and everyone until we find sufficient evidence to make an arrest.”
I k
ept quiet about the two agricultural bioengineers in town looking for Tyler until I could come up with a plausible working theory that tied them to Brittany. The sheriff had procedures and rules to follow, along with investigating Tyler and Brittany’s sister. He was also faced with a challenge to make sense of June’s paperwork. There were a lot of order forms to go through.
Which meant there were two things I could do to help: find the connection between Tyler, Ackerman Biosystems, and Brittany, and locate Simon.
My phone jingled from my purse. I took it out, saw it was Daniel calling, and answered. “Hey, you.”
“Hey back. I found that info you wanted.”
“You did? That was fast.”
“Maybe it’s because I miss you, and now you’ll come over.”
I turned away from the sheriff. “That’s not fair. You know I’ve been busy.”
“And…?”
I could feel the sheriff’s inquisitive gaze on me, so I walked outside, pulling off my gloves as I went. “And what? There’s no other reason.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” But my gaze wandered back into the shop to look at Sheriff Jackson. Could it be that my real reason was wearing a hat and a badge?
“What time should I pick you up at the ferry?” Daniel asked.
“Tomorrow around four?” I pushed the gloves into my purse.
“Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too.” I disconnected and put the phone back into my purse.
The sheriff had come out of June’s shop while I was on the phone. He’d stripped off his gloves and stuffed them into his pocket. “Going to the mainland tomorrow?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“To see Daniel, right? Not to do any unauthorized snooping.”
I nodded again. “Yep. To have dinner with Daniel.”
He eyed me for a long moment. “You know when you lie, you twitch your nose a little.”
My fingers went to my nose. “My nose does not twitch. I would know if it did.”
“Don’t get me wrong—it’s cute as hell, but it’s not helpful when you lie to me. Complications arise that can be difficult to deal with, you know?”
Cute as hell? Wow, that’s new. I lifted my chin. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Daniel is cooking dinner at his place.”
He nodded with that judging look on his face. I hated that look. It made me feel both angry and vulnerable, as if he knew there was more danger ahead than he was telling me about.
“And we might even go dancing,” I said without thinking. Why did I tell him that? He certainly didn’t need to know how I spent my time or who I spent it with.
The muscles along his jawline flinched, and it looked like he was grinding his teeth. “Great.” He rubbed at his chin. “Have an enjoyable evening.”
I gaped at him as he turned on his boot heel and stomped back into the shop. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and made a call.
I jumped into the cart and drove down Market Street. I turned over the conversation, chastising myself for saying what I had. The sheriff made me so angry sometimes, and I was normally an even-keeled person. I let him push my buttons, which was not necessary. And why in the hell did I care what he thought?
The answer hit me like the bite of a scorpion. Fast, unexpected, and dangerous.
I liked Sheriff Luke Jackson. I liked him a lot. Damn.
As I turned right onto Lilac Street, I slowed down and thought about stopping at Chocolat and indulging in a box of salted caramels to temper my anger or frustration or whatever it was. But I’d noticed my expanding waistline lately, so I pressed on. While I was stopped at the corner of Main Street, a man carrying a bag of Chinese takeout rushed across the street in front of my cart.
I recognized him from the one time I’d seen him in the maze. He’d crossed my path in the maze mere minutes before I found Brittany’s body. The sheriff wouldn’t share any of the witness statements, so I’d simply get one myself. I wanted to know if he’d seen anyone else in the maze, because Brittany must have been meeting someone there that day. The same someone who killed her, if I had any luck at all.
I pulled over quickly, parked the cart, and jumped out. “Hey!” I called to him.
He stopped and looked at me. His eyes widened, and then he turned and booked it in the opposite direction. Why was he running from me?
I was wearing the comfy flats that I usually wore to work, so I chased after him. He dashed down Lilac Street and over to Market. He was a lot quicker than I was, so I lost him when he sprinted into the heavily treed park near the historical society building.
I hadn’t had a decent workout in months. By the time I stopped running, I was breathing heavily. There was a stitch in my side, and I massaged it as I peered into the park, trying to figure out where the man had run to and where he was going. Past the park, on the opposite side of Clover Lane, was a small residential area and the road that lead out of the main village and wound along the coastline to a new housing development.
I was pretty sure that June lived in a small bungalow in that residential area off Clover Lane. Coincidence? Possibly.
While I collected my breath, I considered why the guy might have run from me. He’d probably recognized me from the maze that day. Maybe he hadn’t been part of the relay race. Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t recognized him as an employee of the hotel. Not that I knew every hotel staff member. There were seasonal, temporary, and part-time staff that I didn’t know well. He could’ve been one of the bellhops on the relay team with Ginny. But then why would he run away from me? Something wasn’t right.
As I walked back to my cart, I called Ginny. When she answered, there was a lot of background noise. A gaggle of people talking and glasses rattling.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Swan Song bar. I’m having a drink with Clinton.” She paused, and then her voice went up an octave. “You should come down. It’s five-dollar drafts for a while longer.”
“No, I’m good. What about Barrington from Hong Kong?”
She giggled, but offered no answer. Which I took to mean that she didn’t want to discuss Barrington in front of Clinton.
I moved on to the reason for my call. “I have a question, though.”
“Shoot.”
“Who was the fifth person on your relay team?”
“What?”
“At the festival relay race through the maze. Your team consisted of Eric, Tina, Randy, and another one of the bellhops…”
“Oh, yes. Ollie.”
“What does he look like?”
I didn’t have to see her to know she was wrinkling her nose as she considered the question. “Average height and weight, I guess. He’s definitely not tall or anything. Not a big guy, either.”
“Dark hair?”
“No, blond.”
“Okay, thanks Ginny. I’ll see you later.” I hung up and then jumped into the cart.
I turned right onto Main Street with the intention of driving back to the hotel. It was past eight, and I was hungry and tired and maybe a little cranky, too. Instead, I took a right into the alleyway and cut across to Market Street. I drove past Blossom the clothing store and then June’s Blooms. The sheriff was still there along with Deputy Shawn, who walked out of the shop just as I cruised by. I continued up past the park near the historical society building.
I drove over Clover Lane and into the residential area, which consisted of about fifteen houses, all of them cute bungalows built long ago. I parked in front of June’s pretty pale-green house with the bright-yellow door. The color scheme should’ve been tacky, but it suited June.
I didn’t know if she would talk to me. Her lawyer, Paige, would’ve instructed her not to talk to anyone about the case. But I had to try, because a lot of things just weren’t looking good for her, and Lois had made it clear that she was relying on me to fix this.
Lights were on in the house, so someone was probably home. I kno
cked on the door and waited. I heard some commotion, possibly chairs moving, and then I saw June’s face peering out from behind the floral curtain hanging on the window beside the door. I smiled and waved, friendly like.
A few seconds later, the door opened a crack, and June filled the space. “Hey, Andi.”
“Hi, June. How are you?”
“I’m okay, considering.
“I’m glad to hear that. Lois and everyone at the Park will be, too.” I paused for breath. “Can I come in?”
She hesitated, and I wondered if it was because of Paige’s warning or something else.
“You know I’m on your side, June,” I said reassuringly, adding a gentle smile. “Lois insisted that I help you in any way I can. You know how important it is to me not to disappoint Lois.”
She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth for a few moments and then finally opened the door for me. I came in, and she led me to the cozy living room. There were plants everywhere, of course. A bookshelf stuffed with books and various candles and knicknacks made the place even more homey. The hunter-green sofa had a multi-colored crocheted afghan tossed over the back. It was all very grandmother-chic.
I perched on the sofa, and June sat on the edge of the easy chair, her back rigid. “What would you like to know?” she asked.
“I found out that you and Brittany had been friends once.”
She nodded. “A long time ago. We went to college together. I told the sheriff all of this.”
“Did you tell him about Simon?”
She flinched at that. “What do you mean?”
“Wasn’t the reason you and Brittany stopped being friends all about Simon?”
She frowned. “Of course not. We fell out over the usual things women do.”
“Which are?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember why. It just happened.”
I didn’t want to accuse her of having an affair with Simon. Especially if it wasn’t true. I didn’t have any proof, just a guess based on that comment from Brittany’s sister, Tracy. Which could’ve been nothing more than ill-will. I considered asking more questions about Simon, but she already seemed on edge and I didn’t want to upset her even more.