Flower Power Trip

by James J Cudney

  Once the lights were turned out, I joined Eleanor in the living room and waited for her to initiate the conversation. She looked more relaxed than she had earlier in the day, but I could tell my sister was still out of sorts. From the comfort of a plush recliner, she sighed. “I feel like such a fool for not realizing all those photos resembled Connor.”

  I'd been thinking about her situation all afternoon. Eleanor had always been the favorite child among the five Ayrwick siblings. She'd done everything the exact way our parents expected her to except for when it came to marriage. Eleanor went to college and later obtained a master's degree, ensuring she could support herself in the future. She traveled around the world for six months to get life experience, as our Dad referred to it. He'd offered to pay for each of us to take a trip upon graduation, but I didn't snatch that prize since I wasn't keen on airplanes. Those aluminum cans on steroids will kill you!

  When she returned and searched for a job, Eleanor decided she wasn't ready to join the business world. She volunteered at various charities and not-for-profit organizations throughout Wharton County and built a vast network of contacts. One connection led to a job as the manager of a diner, and she accepted it because it meant she could interact with people daily and learn a new trade. Over time, she grew obsessed and turned it into a career culminating in her purchase of the diner from the previous long-time owners who'd moved out of town. Somehow along the path, finding a husband never happened. Unfortunately, our parents were known to frequently pressure her about it.

  “Is this about something bigger, Eleanor? You've always been motivated by your job and inspired by your hobbies. Do you even want to get married? Is Connor the right guy or are you fixated on him because he flirted with you a few times?” I knew my best friend was a solid guy, but he couldn't make up his mind either. Maggie or Eleanor?

  Eleanor slurped a huge spoonful of rocky road. “I know I'm attracted to him. I know I want to be a mother. Maybe I'm confusing the two things and trying to force something between us.”

  “I think you need to decide what you want out of life. You're thirty years old and have lots of time to get married and have kids. Don't push it if you aren't clear about your needs and desires right now. Maybe you and Connor will work out. Maybe he belongs with Maggie. Maybe you will have a baby and won't need someone to help. I can't answer those questions, but I can tell you how proud I am of you,” I said while reaching for the candy hidden behind the pillow. “Here, I know these are your favorite.”

  “I guess I need to screw the lid on my juggernaut jar of jealousy over their budding relationship.” Eleanor smiled and tore open the Reese's Pieces bag with her teeth like a ravenous animal. “You're the best brother I could ask for. Seriously, I'm so glad you came back home.”

  Eleanor was laughing by the end of our talk about our older siblings' current adventures. I didn't bring up our younger brother, Gabriel, because I didn't want to tell her what I'd seen him doing. It wasn't my secret to reveal. Instead, we downloaded a new horror movie and pretended not to be scared. By midnight, she left agreeing to think things over before making any permanent decisions, and I went to bed. I needed to teach my class and hunt down George Braun's cabin the following day.

  * * *

  After my normal routine dropping Emma off at school and educating the future of America for two solid hours, I popped in to update my truculent boss, Dr. Myriam Castle, per her orders. “I'm heading over to the cabin to see if George left anything behind. Ursula is aware I'm going, but she can't make it. She has a meeting with Maggie Roarke and the Board of Trustees about the library renovation.”

  'Travelers never did lie, though fools at home condemn them.' Since you don't seem to always recognize the quotes I generously share, I'll give you this one free of charge. The Tempest,” Myriam replied while gathering her purse, a Coach bag that matched her trim brown and white Chanel suit.

  “Yeah, thanks. I gotta go,” I shook my head to detach her particular brand of crazy from nipping at my brain. There was only so much of the woman I could take without theorizing all the illegal ways to silence her.

  “I'm coming too,” she insisted. “We'll take my car, it's faster.”

  Five minutes later, after countless threats, she entered the address into her GPS while her black four-door BMW zoomed across the river. At one point, I thought we'd been airborne, but I had to close my eyes to prevent getting sick. “Are you not aware of the village speed limit?” I remembered she'd earned a reputation for an almost Indie-500-like erratic driving style.

  “Pish. I'm the safest driver out there. Look, we're already here,” she snapped as the car came to an abrupt halt in front of a cabin. “Must be that dilapidated-looking one over there.”

  We exited the car. She walked to the front door of a building that needed an overhaul. I rested a moment until my stomach found its proper location inside my body again. I was grateful I hadn't eaten lunch since I was sure my entire digestive system had made a complete loop from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet. “We should be a little careful, don't you think? Someone murdered the man.”

  Myriam didn't pay attention to my warning. By the time I'd reached the front of the cabin, she was already halfway around the side heading toward the back. “Don't dawdle, Kellan. I have to be back in an hour for a meeting.” Her shuffle through the muddy terrain looked like one of Nana D's farm animals clumping through the dirt after a rainstorm.

  As she approached the rear entrance, I noticed something useful. “There's a box that might be tall enough to climb into this open window.” I moved the wooden crate closer and stepped on it.

  Just as I was peering through the window, a shadow moved inside the cabin. It was followed by two hands unexpectedly appearing at the bottom of the sill and pushing the window upward. “I'm already here. Would you please try to keep up?” Myriam scolded in her usual haughty tone.

  “How did you get inside?” I said, leaning into the window. Then I fell back and crashed through the wooden crate. At this point, I could heave myself into the cabin easily and didn't want to wander all the way through the mud around back.

  As I fell to the floor and found myself covered in dust, Myriam made a tsk tsk sound. “You really are an oaf, aren't you? The door was unlocked. Not very safe, if you ask me.”

  I hadn't asked her but debating the topic any further wouldn't help the situation. We devised a plan to each search half of the cabin as quickly as possible. There were two bedrooms, a kitchen, living room, and a shared bathroom. It wasn't very large, but it had a quaint woodsy feel about it. One bedroom was fully renovated, and the other appeared to be half-finished. The bathroom had also been upgraded, but the kitchen and the main living area needed work. The inside had fared better than the exterior had over the years. It wasn't too far off from being habitable.

  Thirty minutes later, we'd completed an exhaustive search of the premises. “There's not much here, is there?” Myriam said in a disappointed tone.

  “At least we know this is definitely George's cabin. He has a few pieces of mail addressed to him,” I noted before doing a final sweep of the bathroom, including checking inside the toilet tank in case something had been hidden there. No luck.

  “And we know the assistant must be staying here based on the items in that finished room. The outfits in the closet did not belong to George Braun. Ursula's brother was a big guy, but those clothes fit someone thinner and shorter. Given today's gender non-specific approaches to wardrobe, I can't tell if those belong to a man or a woman.” Myriam checked her phone and sighed. “I need to return to campus. Let's go. This was as useless as your non-existent knowledge of anything valuable.”

  I ignored her insult assuming it was meant in jest. She'd been toying with diverse ways of torturing me lately. “I'm not sure what I was hoping to find, but I feel like I'm missing something. Whoever the assistant is doesn't have anything personal here. Either he or she is incredibly careful, or we missed a spot.” I followed Myri
am out the back door, verifying we didn't leave anything out of place. We'd worn gloves so our fingerprints didn't show up, but I was still worried whoever killed George might appear at the cabin and kidnap us. Wait, maybe that's how I could escape from Myriam!

  As we walked around the side of the house, a car pulled up. Myriam's BMW was in the front driveway, but we couldn't reach it without being seen by whomever had arrived. “Let's go, get behind this tree with me,” I whispered. Myriam followed me across a side patch of grass, and we took cover behind a giant oak.

  A blue Volkswagen SUV parked next to Myriam's car. We both watched with bated breath to see who stepped outside. Between the slight tinting on the windows and the shade from the foliage on the trees, I couldn't get a solid look at the person's face. The driver opened the door and walked to the front of the cabin calling out, “Hey, I'm back. You around?”

  It was a younger guy's voice I thought I'd recognized. When he finally came into view, I gasped, inhaled a fly, and began choking. Myriam covered my mouth and said, “Keep your trap closed, he'll hear us, you ninny. It's a good thing I'm wearing gloves. I'm not thrilled about touching you!”

  “No, it's okay. I know him. I haven't a clue what he's doing here, but I think we can approach him,” I added, flicking her hand away. My mind was a sea of confusion trying to sort out what I was viewing. I stepped back onto the lawn and looked toward him. “Hey, it's Kellan.”

  Sam Taft jumped backward and glanced in our direction. He'd turned bright red when he saw us approaching him. “I… I… think I must be lost.”

  “Mr. Taft, ah, yes, I do recognize you now. Just what exactly are you doing here?” Myriam chastised the kid. He'd graduated five days earlier, but she still treated him like a student.

  “I was visiting a friend. Guess I must have the wrong cabin,” he said with eyes darting back and forth from the cabin to his car.

  “Are you living here?” I asked, suddenly wondering if he was caught up with George Braun's plans for revenge on Ursula.

  “Ugh. I guess I can't hide from the truth anymore,” Sam said leaning against one of the poles supporting the roof of the front porch. “It's not what you think, Kellan.”

  Myriam tapped her foot on the ground. “I don't know what's going on here, but I need to get back to campus. Kellan, maybe you could stay to talk with Sam about this situation.”

  “That's a good idea. There are a number of things I need to discuss with Sam,” I replied to Myriam, then turned to Sam. “Can you give me a lift back to campus when we're done chatting?”

  Whether it was Myriam's presence or plain old guilt, Sam assented. “Sure, no problem.”

  I walked Myriam to her car and confirmed I'd call her as soon as I learned anything. Once she left, I narrowed my gaze on Sam. “Talk.”

  Sam sat on a chair under the covered porch. “As I said, this isn't what it looks like. I had nothing to do with George Braun.”

  “Perhaps you better tell me the full story,” I urged him wondering if he had the skills to renovate a cabin. Although I'd only known him for a bit, he didn't seem particularly handy or experienced in home repair. He grew up in a family who hired servants to do everything except go to the bathroom for them.

  “I really was visiting a friend. He's been staying here until he could get his own place,” Sam explained while fiddling with his phone. “I'm guessing you're about to put two and two together now.”

  “Gabriel,” I said feeling my heart begin to race. “Is that who's staying here?” Was my brother aware that George wasn't who he said he was?

  Sam nodded. “He wants to talk to you, but I don't think he's ready to see your parents again.”

  I pushed Sam to explain everything. Sam had no clue about Ursula's connection to George Braun. I also couldn't figure out how much Sam knew about George's past. “Is Gabriel working for George Braun? Are you in cahoots with them?”

  “Cahoots? Did we suddenly slip into a western movie? Let me get out my boots and spurs, cowboy. We're gonna have ourselves a good, old-fashioned duel with pistols.” Based on his exaggerated slow speech, Sam had a funny side. “We're only ten years apart, Kellan, but you act much older sometimes.”

  Did I get sideswiped by a millennial? I thought I still was one at thirty-two. “Just tell me what you know, Sam.”

  “He was. At least until the man was killed,” Sam said. Of all the people Sam and Gabriel could have found themselves connected to, George Braun was not someone who came to mind. “Gabriel had nothing to do with his death.”

  “You need to tell me everything. Start at the beginning.” This couldn't be real. What happened to my shy, sweet, and innocent brother? How could Gabriel return to town to work for a man with a huge vendetta and a nasty past. Was the guy holding something over Gabriel? Had my kid brother gotten into trouble and needed help?

  Sam nervously shared what he knew. “Gabriel came back to town about three months ago for his own reasons. I met him at a bar one night but didn't know he was your brother. We hung out a few times and felt a connection. I know you probably weren't aware of this part of his life, but he's an awesome guy, Kellan.”

  “I had no clue. I assure you I'm cool with it, but I wish Gabriel would've told me the truth.” Things were beginning to fall into place. My brother was angry when our father took the job as president of Braxton College eight years ago. He must have been going through so many discoveries about himself at the time, he took off to learn how to deal with and accept it. “Why did he come back?”

  “You'll have to ask him. It's not my place to say.” When Sam looked at his phone, a panicked expression appeared.

  “I'd ask him if I could find him. You haven't been willing to help me in the past.” I knew I was getting closer to locating my brother, but I was suddenly afraid he might run again. “What exactly was he doing for George Braun?”

  Sam was ignoring me and intently reading his phone. After scrolling through a few screens, he stomped his foot and looked toward the sky. “No, this is awful.”

  “What's awful, Sam? Who are you texting with?”

  “I'm not sure what's going on, but Gabriel was brought to the Wharton County Sheriff's Office. He texted me twenty minutes ago and said he'd been hauled in for questioning regarding George Braun's death. I didn't see the messages while I was driving here.” Sam's eyes were beginning to tear up. “You have to come with me to help him.”

  “Of course, he's my brother. Let's go,” I said as we rushed to his SUV and drove downtown. What had my brother gotten himself into, and how would he react when I showed up with Sam?

  Chapter 12

  Sam and I sat in the Wharton County Sheriff's Office for over an hour while April Montague and Detective Gilkrist spoke with my brother. Sam wouldn't tell me anything else until he could visit with Gabriel. The sheriff left the interrogation room at one point to get Gabriel a cup of water. She popped into the main lobby where we nervously waited. “He knows you're both here. We're almost done questioning him, but he'd like to speak with Sam first.”

  “Are you arresting him?” I asked. It reminded me of when we played cops and robbers as children. Gabriel always wanted to be the criminal. He said it was more fun that way.

  “Not today, so don't go lawyering up already, Little Ayrwick. He's a person of interest who knew the victim. I have no reason to believe Gabriel was at the library or had a motive to murder George Braun.” The sheriff motioned to Sam to follow her down the hall. “You can chat with him for a few minutes after you and my detective have a conversation about that cabin.”

  While I paced the precinct's lobby floor, I considered whether I should call my parents, Eleanor, or Nana D to let them know about Gabriel's triumphant return. I ultimately decided it would be better to reveal his presence after I'd gotten the chance to speak with him. I sent Myriam a text message that I didn't yet know anything from Sam but would update her that evening. I also checked in with Helena to let her know that I'd turned over the folder we'd found in George's r
oom to the sheriff.

  April returned ten minutes later and escorted me to her office. “I spoke with Mulligan and Singh. Both agree George Braun was difficult to work with. Mulligan claims Braun was obsessed with his research and only out for himself. I can tell something more serious was going on between them, but I haven't gotten far yet.”

  “Maybe I can get him to talk. He hung up on me the other day when I asked questions, but I have an easy way to follow up about the flower show. What about Anita Singh's relationship with Braun? Was she the assistant from the past?”

  “Anita Singh is an Indian-American who was born in Connecticut and grew up in New York City. I can't place her in Chicago during the 1993 lab explosion, but I'm not done with my research. She was married earlier this year, but she's very reticent to give any details about her husband. Detective Gilkrist is tracking down those records,” April noted.

  I updated her about Yuri Sato overhearing Mulligan and Braun arguing, as well as Braun having a wife somewhere. “Could he and Anita be married and working a scam together?”

  The sheriff shook her head. “I appreciate you giving me Yuri's news, but I've told you enough so far. Now that we're alone, can you explain to me what your brother is doing by getting mixed up with this George Braun aka Hans Mück character?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I found out an hour ago. I ran into Sam Taft who finally told me the truth.” I left out the part about my trip to George's cabin. It didn't seem important enough to include in my response. “Wait, do you know for certain it's Hans Mück?”

  “Yes, we have confirmation. Our European contacts were more than happy to cooperate once they knew George Braun was dead. They'd also documented reasons to locate him. I can't reveal any of those details at the moment.” April handed me a cup of coffee from the sizzling pot behind her. “You look like you could use this. Now talk to me about Gabriel.”