Sometimes Esther reminded me of a mother hen, the way she was always watching after others. “I’m sure Violet appreciates the gesture. You’re very thoughtful.”
She pooh-poohed my compliment with a wave of her hand. “It’s the least I can do. I feel so sorry for that woman.”
“Losing a parent is always tough,” I said, remembering my own grief when my father had died. I automatically reached up to my neck and touched the St. Christopher medal he’d given me years ago and that I always wore.
Esther nodded. “Yes, and people are often left with guilt when someone close to them dies, even when there’s nothing to feel guilty about. I know I felt that way when my sweet Arthur passed on to that great big farmhouse in the sky.”
“I wonder if Violet feels the same. After all, she had the day off. If she’d come to work instead, maybe whoever shot Bethany wouldn’t have done it.”
Esther tilted her head. “But I saw Violet at the flower shop that day.” She shrugged. “I bet she just dropped by for a minute. She seemed to be in an awful hurry.”
Goose bumps popped up on my arms. I was certain that when I’d talked to Bethany the day she’d been killed, she’d said Violet had the day off. Violet herself had told me she hadn’t gone to the shop. Could Esther be mistaken? “Are you positive it was Violet?”
“Sure. I walked right past her on my way to the drugstore. I said hello, but I guess she didn’t hear me. She seemed upset.”
“And it was the same day Bethany was murdered?”
Esther thought for a moment and then nodded. “Yep, one of my prescriptions had run out, and I was down to my last pill. I’m positive it was the same day.”
“What time was this? Did you tell the police?”
Esther blanched. “Should I have? It was right after lunch, hours before poor Bethany died. Besides, I’m sure Violet told the police she was there.”
Not if she’d been planning her mother’s death at that time. The fact that she’d been there after lunch rather than closer to when Bethany was killed didn’t change her lying to me. But why? What was she hiding?
“Are you all right, dear?” Esther asked. Worry lines appeared around her eyes. “Do you think I should tell the police after all?”
“Yes, absolutely. I can give you Detective Palmer’s number. I have one of his cards.” I went over to the desk, pulled open the bottom drawer, and grabbed my purse. As I searched through the contents, I remembered how the detective had asked me if I’d seen Violet that day when I’d stopped in to talk to Bethany. At the time I’d thought it was an odd question, but maybe Esther wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Violet downtown.
I found the card and handed it to Esther. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She checked her watch. “I have just enough time to call before heading off to my Bunco game.”
Once Esther left, I sat down in the office chair and thought about why Violet might have lied. Even if she’d killed Bethany, that was much later. She didn’t need to lie about visiting earlier, even on her day off. I stopped by the farm on occasion if I’d left something here that I needed or I wanted to help out for a special event. Was she worried the police would see her as a suspect and thought it was better to lie?
I stood up and stuck my purse back in the drawer. I could sit here all day and come up with theories, but only Violet could tell me the answer. And as luck would have it, she was due at the farm this very afternoon.
In fact, she might be on her way right now. Maybe she was already here. I practically sprinted to the lobby to find out.
Gordon glanced up when I burst in from the hall. He frowned.
“Violet isn’t here yet?” I asked, though of course I could see he was alone.
“I said I would let you know when she arrived.”
“Well, you never know when we might have a sudden surge of guests that would keep you from notifying me.”
Gordon swept his arm in front of him, indicating the empty lobby. “As you can see . . .”
“Right.” If only Violet had given me a specific time. She might be here in the next five minutes or not for another two hours.
Feeling discouraged, I puttered around the lobby, straightening the magazines on the end table, picking up lint off the carpet, and brushing dust off the ficus leaves. At least the rain had stopped, and blue sky was now visible in patches.
Gordon cleared his throat. “All out of marketing work today?”
I offered him a smile. “I want to make sure the place looks its best for the guests.”
“I already took care of that,” he said stiffly.
“Of course. Just giving you a hand.”
“Perhaps Gretchen needs help in the spa,” Gordon said.
“I’m sure she has everything under control. Hey, how’s the toast coming along?” I crossed my fingers that it didn’t include the words reliable or certifiable.
He twisted his pinkie ring. “Much more challenging than I’d expected, but I believe I’ve come up with something we can both live with.”
Something we could live with? Like mediocre coffee or slightly dinged furniture?
Before I could say more, a car pulled into the parking lot outside. The silver Mercedes looked vaguely familiar, and I wondered if it belonged to Violet, although I wouldn’t have pegged her as the luxury car type.
The driver parked next to my car and got out. I blinked in surprise. It was Carter. What was he doing here?
He went around to the passenger side, presumably to open the door, but before he could get there, the door opened and a woman got out on her own. She was tall with curly brown hair. While she wasn’t exactly overweight, she’s what I would call sturdy. Carter said something to her and she laughed so loud, I could hear it through the glass of the lobby windows. If this was Carter’s sickly wife, she hid her illness well.
They crossed the parking lot together and stepped onto the sidewalk. He said something again and pointed toward the lobby. She nodded and waited on the sidewalk while he headed to the door. I was standing in the corner, partly obscured by the ficus, when he walked in.
“Excuse me,” he said to Gordon, “I’m looking for—” He broke off when he caught sight of me. With a sharp intake of breath, he marched over to where I stood. “You better watch it,” he snarled, “or I’ll sue you for harassment.”
Criminy. What did I do this time?
Chapter 28
Ever the professional, I stepped out from behind the ficus and faced Carter. “Is there a problem, sir?”
“The problem is that you’re following me.” He was so close I could smell the wine on his breath. “Are you going to show up everywhere my wife and I go in some pathetic attempt to scare me into paying you? I already told you, Miss Johnson. I won’t be blackmailed.”
“You need to get over yourself.” Wow, that sounded like something Ashlee would say. In fact, she’d said that exact thing to me. More than once. I pointed to the embroidered part of my work shirt that announced the name of Esther’s place. “I’m not following you. I work here.”
He squinted at my shirt. “What?”
Gordon came around the counter, fiddling with his pinkie ring. Even if he hadn’t heard the threat, he must have sensed Carter was angry. He said, “Is there something I can assist with?” at the same moment Carter’s wife entered the lobby from outside and said, “Everything all right, honey?”
Carter turned to his wife. “Everything’s fine, Patty. I was merely asking for directions to the spa.”
Mostly because I felt like being a pill after Carter’s little outburst, I said, “I’d be happy to show you where it is.”
Carter threw me a sharp glance. I smiled back.
“That’s very nice of you,” Patty said.
“My pleasure.” I stepped around Carter, who had me penned in the corner, and strolled to the door. “If you’ll follow me . . .”
I went outside and held the door open for Carter and his wife. Carter continued to cast susp
icious glances in my direction, but I pretended not to notice. We started down the sidewalk toward the vegetable garden.
“I’m guessing this is your first time here?” I said.
“Yes,” Patty said. “I usually don’t pamper myself at spas, but Carter decided to spoil me with a gift certificate for our wedding anniversary.”
“How nice,” I said, trying not to let my knowledge of his affair color my response. “How long have you two been married?”
“Fifteen years,” Patty said with a touch of pride as we turned onto the path that led past the vegetable garden. Carter remained silent. “To this day, my father says Carter married me for my trust fund, but I say you don’t stick around that many years only for the money.”
Well, maybe not only for the money. I snuck a peek at Carter, who was studiously avoiding my gaze while he tugged at his shirt collar.
“Fifteen years is an awfully long time,” I agreed. “I’m actually about to get married myself.”
Patty slapped me on the back like we were sailor buddies at a bar, and I almost stumbled. Apparently she wasn’t that sick.
“Congratulations,” Patty said. “I’m sure your marriage will be as good as ours. I know Carter and I have plenty of years ahead of us.”
This time, it was me who avoided Carter’s eyes. “And I hope those years are full of good times and good health.” Hey, that wasn’t half bad. Maybe I’d suggest it to Gordon for his wedding toast.
“I’m sure they will be. Carter’s too refined to get sick, and I come from hearty Midwest stock.” She let out a bellowing laugh as if to prove her vitality. “Isn’t that right, honey?”
“Yes, dear,” Carter said.
I’d been almost positive he’d been feeding Phoebe a line about his wife being too sick to divorce. If Patty suffered from anything, it was from being too trusting.
She stopped on the path and pointed to a bush. “Is this a Blue Blossom?”
“Um, I think so.” I was pretty sure that’s what Zennia had told me once.
She turned to Carter, her face alight with excitement. “We’ll have to return here in late spring. The plant is beautiful when it’s blooming.”
“Yes, of course,” Carter said. “I’ll mark it in my calendar.”
It was all I could do not to stare at Carter. I was having a hard time reconciling this meek man with the guy who usually insisted on control in any situation.
“I’m a big flower buff,” Patty told me. “I can’t get enough of them.” We resumed walking toward the spa, with me leading and Carter and Patty right behind.
“It’s unfortunate you weren’t with me the other day,” Carter said. “I saw the most exotic flower with petals that were yellow at the base and edges, but the rest was a deep red. It almost looked as if the flower was on fire. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
Patty put a hand to her chest. “That sounds gorgeous.”
“I’ve seen a flower like that somewhere,” I said, trying to remember if it was here at the farm so I could show Patty.
“Hey! Wait up!” I heard a voice call behind me. I turned around and saw Violet hurrying down the path, a cardboard box in her hands.
Beside me, Carter flinched. “You gotta be kidding me,” he muttered.
I almost laughed. This must be his worst nightmare. Here was the only other woman, besides Phoebe, of course, who might know about Carter’s affair, providing Bethany had shared her secret with Violet.
She caught up to us, slightly out of breath. “The man at the desk said I’d find you out here.” She looked at Carter and Patty. “Hi, Mr. Hawking. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Patty raised her eyebrows and turned to Carter.
He nodded at Violet. “This is Violet Lancaster. She runs the Don’t Dilly-Dahlia flower shop, after her mother’s untimely demise.”
Violet set the box on the ground and held out her hand. Patty gave it a vigorous pump. “Sorry to hear about your mother,” Patty said. “I have to tell you that the roses from your shop are absolutely amazing. Receiving a bouquet of those wonderful blooms is the highlight of my week.”
“Thank you so much,” Violet said, “though my mother deserves all the credit. She ran the shop for twenty years and ferreted out the best flower suppliers in the business. I’ve simply inherited what she set up with her hard work and determination.”
I listened to Violet’s impassioned response. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have said she loved the flower business.
“I’m glad to hear you’ll be carrying on with the shop. I don’t know what my husband would do without it.”
“He’s one of my best customers,” Violet said.
Carter tugged at his collar again. “Yes, well, we’d better get to your spa appointment, dear. We don’t want to be late.”
I nodded toward the spa, which was within easy view on the path. “It’s right there. I can escort you if you’d like.”
Carter grimaced. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Fine. Enjoy your afternoon,” I said.
Carter and Patty continued up the path, and I turned to Violet, glad to have the chance to talk to her alone. I found her watching the departing couple.
“That’s not how I pictured Carter’s wife,” she said. “I expected her to be more, I don’t know, high maintenance, maybe.”
“She certainly seems down to earth,” I said.
“I never did figure out why he always ordered her two separate bouquets of roses each week. I never asked, because it’s none of my business, but that costs a lot of money.”
So Violet didn’t know about Bethany’s blackmailing hobby after all. I wouldn’t be the one to tell her either. “Maybe one was for home and one was for her work,” I said.
“Maybe. Although he did just cut his order to only one bouquet recently.” She shrugged. “I’m not going to worry about it.”
I picked up the cardboard box. “Are these the bows?”
Violet nodded. “I found a bunch of different sizes, so I threw them all in.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Violet.”
I started down the path and she fell into step beside me. Up ahead, Carter and his wife had reached the entrance to the spa, but when Violet and I reached the cabins, I headed left, toward the farmhouse and back patio.
“Have you given any more thought to Mitch’s offer?” I asked as a way to get the conversation rolling.
“That’s all I’ve been thinking about. Night and day.” Violet wrung her hands. “I promised him an answer in the next two days, but I can’t make up my mind.”
We came to the picnic tables, and I set the box on one of the tables and sat down on a bench. Violet sat across from me and started chewing on a nail. “When I first got the shop, all I could think about was getting rid of it. I was so sick of working there. I wanted to focus on my writing. But then when I hear how happy people are with their flowers, like Mr. Hawking’s wife, I can see why my mom loved the shop so much.”
“Still, it’s a huge commitment, especially if you don’t love it as much as your mom did.”
Violet groaned. “I know, but I feel so guilty about selling the business she loved.”
I wondered about the source of the guilt. Was it simply because Violet knew how much pride her mom had had in building up the shop and making it successful? Or did she feel guilty because she’d killed her mom to get out from under her thumb and now regretted it?
Violet slapped her hands on the table, and I jumped.
“You’re a big girl, Violet. You’ll figure it out,” she said to herself. Then she looked at me. “I guess we should take a look around the place. I see what you mean about the farm providing plenty of natural decorations.”
We both stood, and I indicated the herb garden near the kitchen door. “This is our herb garden, although the bushes aren’t nearly as vibrant this time of year.”
We wandered around the area, with Violet sniffing the occasional plant. After a f
ew minutes, we walked back over to the gazebo, where the ceremony would be taking place in only two days. My stomach did a flip-flop at the thought.
“How exactly will everything be set up?” Violet asked as she eyed the expanse of patio.
I pointed. “Jason and I will stand with the minister near the hedge. We have a lattice archway we’ll be putting up. My boss found some ribbon that we’ll tie to the posts and weave through the latticework. We’re going to shove the two picnic tables out of the way and set up the folding chairs with those bows, thanks to you. A strip of white cloth will run down between the two rows of chairs to create an aisle.”
“Sounds lovely,” Violet said. “Why don’t we look around a little more? I’m sure this place is packed with wildflowers. Maybe I could add some to your bouquets to tie everything together.”
Once more, it occurred to me that Violet might not make a bad flower shop owner after all. “Great idea,” I said. “Let’s go back out to the vegetable garden where you met up with me earlier. I saw some flowers over there.”
We went past the guest cabins, hung a right, and stopped to look at a variety of wildflowers growing nearby. Violet walked off the path, muttering to herself. “Hmm . . . I don’t know. The colors are too vivid. I was hoping for something with softer tones.”
“I see a lot of wildflowers when I’m walking around the back of the property,” I said.
Violet came over to me, close enough to make me uncomfortable. “Can we take a look?”
I paused, unease washing through me. For someone who professed to only be hanging on to the flower shop to honor her mother, Violet was awfully enthusiastic all of a sudden. And what kind of florist made house calls anyway? She’d insisted on driving the box of bows out here instead of me picking them up. Was this some sort of trap to get me alone? Why hadn’t I wondered about that before?
Violet frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m surprised, is all. You seem so interested in looking at all these flowers, but I didn’t think you wanted to be in the family business.”
“I’m surprised myself. But this is fun. Hunting down the right blooms, searching for the perfect colors. It’s almost like being a detective. A flower detective.”
Marriage Is Pure Murder Page 21