A Deadly Bouquet

by Janis Harrison

  Liquor. Alcohol. Poof!

  Cause and effect.

  Mead’s milkweed.

  I put my elbows on my knees and cupped my chin in my hands. Staring at the ground, I ordered myself to concentrate.

  Claire had been the activist. Sonya had won honors in the Debate Club. Dana had cheered her team to victory. Kasey had been president of the Botany Club. In fact, all four girls had been members.

  The preservation of our natural resources would have interested Kasey. It would also have made a good debate topic for Sonya. From past information, Claire had been hot and ready to take on any and all causes. Dana would’ve tagged along because that’s the kind of person she is.

  Was the Mead’s milkweed extinct back in the sixties?

  I sat up straight. Howie, Claire’s ex-husband, had been the one to use the word extinct. I closed my eyes so I could remember his exact words: “History has a way of biting you in the ass. Everything can’t be saved. It became extinct just like she is.”

  “Everything can’t be saved,” I said out loud. During the sixties, groups were formed to save the whales, save the rain forests, save the—flowers?

  Had the girls tried to save the Mead’s milkweed? How? Eddie had said a rapid burn would get rid of the thatch but would leave the plants underneath unharmed. Had the girls tried a controlled burn? Eddie used a propane torch to set the fire. What would the girls have used as an accelerant to set fire to an entire glade?

  Something combustible. Gas? Diesel fuel? Kerosene? No. All were environmentally unsafe, and would have gone against ecological preservation.

  My eyes binged open. “I’ll be damned.” It had to be the lemon extract. Wasn’t it made up of alcohol? Wouldn’t it burn?

  “Bretta, are you all right?”

  I jerked around. Dana, Kasey, and Sonya stood off to my left.

  Dana said, “Bretta, you’re pale. Are you sick?”

  “Inhaled too many paint fumes,” I said, getting up from the steps. I brushed past their united front, then turned and asked, “What brings all of you to the park? Kind of early for the rehearsal, isn’t it?”

  “There isn’t going to be a rehearsal,” said Sonya.

  I looked from one to the other. “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Evelyn says the ballet company has been held over in St. Louis for an encore performance.”

  I shook my head. “I bet Evelyn is fit to be tied.”

  Sonya said, “She’s handling it well. She says Nikki is an intelligent woman. She can find her way to the altar.”

  “I’m glad Evelyn is confident. I haven’t liked this tight schedule since the first time I heard about it.” I looked at the women and repeated, “So what brings you to the park?”

  Sonya seemed to be the trio’s spokeswoman. “Dana called the flower shop and was told you were here. We’ve tried talking to you one-on-one, but that hasn’t worked. Perhaps if we’re together, we can persuade you to leave Claire’s memory intact.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Claire’s memory or your reputations?”

  The women traded looks. Sonya said, “You obviously have something on your mind. Say it, and let’s be done with it.”

  I wasn’t ready to speak my theory aloud. There were still too many leftover pieces of the puzzle. But I couldn’t let this opportunity pass. I felt my way along. “Something was bothering Claire on the day she was murdered. She hinted at a secret while we were here at the park. Later she called me. Why me? Why not one of her friends? Unless she knew none of you would help her.”

  “That’s not true,” said Dana. “We would have done anything for Claire.”

  “I’m sure you would. Right down to stealing four bottles of lemon extract from the high school’s home ec kitchen.”

  Sonya laughed. “That was a long time ago. What does a childhood prank have to do with Claire’s murder?”

  “You tell me.”

  Kasey started to speak, but a look from Sonya silenced her.

  I nodded. “Okay, if that’s the way you want it. As you said, it was a long time ago, but not if the memory of what happened plays in your head daily. The mind keeps events fresh, and the pain doesn’t go away, especially if you continue to probe it. I think that’s what Claire did. She was the organizer of your little group. She decided to take the lemon extract, but only after Kasey expressed an urge to preserve the Mead’s milkweed plant.

  “I’m assuming you learned about the plant’s extinction in botany class. Perhaps you took a field trip and saw it growing in its natural habitat, which is out on Catalpa Road.”

  Sonya scoffed, “I don’t see what you’re driving at. We used the extract to make lemon squares.”

  I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. You set fire to that glade. You wanted to do a burn. Get rid of the heavy thatch of grass so the Mead’s milkweed would have a chance to survive.”

  Sonya looked at her two friends, then turned back to me. “This is all very interesting, but again I’m asking, what does it have to do with Claire’s death?”

  I didn’t answer right away. I sensed a change in the trio facing me. When they’d arrived at the gazebo, I’d felt the tension in the air. Now they seemed more at ease. In fact, the longer I’d talked the more relaxed they’d become. That meant I was missing something. What?

  Softly I recited, “You can boil me in oil. You can burn me at the stake. But a—”

  The tension was back. Sonya’s spine stiffened. Dana’s knuckles turned white as she clenched her hands.

  “No!” shouted Kasey. “Stop it. Don’t say another word.”

  “Why does that poem upset all of you so much?”

  Sonya took a step in my direction. Her eyes were narrowed. “I’m telling you for the last time to drop it, Bretta.”

  I was fully aware of my vulnerable position. I was in a secluded area of the park with three women, any of whom could be a murderer. In my head I heard Carl whisper, “Use the buddy approach, Babe, and if that don’t work, run like hell.”

  I softened my tone. “Your childhood friend has been murdered. A killer is walking around free. Doesn’t that bother you? If any of you knows something, you need to tell me.”

  Sonya said, “We don’t have to tell you anything. I’m leaving, and if you ladies have any brains, you’ll come with me.”

  Without hesitation, Kasey went to Sonya’s side. I looked at Dana. She was my best bet for information. I waited hopefully, wondering if she’d meekly follow Sonya’s lead.

  Dana licked her lips and fought back tears. “We aren’t bad women, Bretta. We weren’t bad girls. We most surely aren’t murderers.”

  Her words and tone touched me, but if I believed her, then who had killed Claire and Lydia? Who had driven the SUV that plowed into Bailey’s truck? Who had constructed the deadly bouquet that had been left in my car? Who had the most to gain by bringing the past into the present?

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Nikki Montgomery’s wedding day had arrived. It was Saturday, and the ceremony was to begin at eight o’clock that evening. My crew and I were in the park by ten A.M., ready for some intense decorating and beautifying. We wouldn’t bring the flowers until later in the day, but there was plenty of preparation to do before we set the bouquets in place. My SUV was packed with everything I’d need—hammers, nails, tacks, florist knives and nippers, wire, tape, a ladder, and a box of Band-Aids.

  Lois would stay at the flower shop until twelve, when the store closed. She had several sympathy arrangements to make for Lydia’s memorial service, which was scheduled for two o’clock that afternoon. Gertrude was answering the phone, doing whatever needed to be done. Once the shop was locked, both women would join us in the park. I’d left money for them to buy us lunch. By noon we would be in need of sustenance.

  I had begun my day by tackling the tulle. Working with the filmy material was like fighting a phantom opponent. My nerves were already shredded. I’d spent another sleepless night, worrying and wondering. I’d juggled thought
s of the wedding with the murders until I thought I’d go bananas. Bananas had made me think of food. I’d raided the refrigerator. At the very back of the freezer, I’d found DeeDee’s stash of Blue Bunny ice cream—tin-roof sundae, my favorite. I’d eaten half the carton, and had indigestion the rest of the night.

  Lew, Marjory, and Eleanor unpacked the twenty Boston ferns from the delivery van. Each person was armed with a sketch I’d made that showed where the bouquets, ferns, hanging baskets, and displays were to go.

  From my roost on the ladder I watched the goings-on in the park. Kasey and Evelyn were outside the reception tent. Both women were smiling, which was a good sign. In another section Sonya played ringmaster, directing her twelve helpers with clear, precise orders. She caught me watching and gave me a curt nod.

  In the far corner of our arena, Dana and her group were unloading supplies into another smaller tent that would serve as the food-preparation station. For easy entry into the tent, the side flaps were up. I watched Dana set an ice chest on one of the tables, then rub her stomach.

  I was on intimate terms with that gesture. Dana had a belly full of nerves. Maybe I should offer her one of my antacid tablets. I’d brought along a new supply. I could share, and perhaps ask a question or two.

  I started down the ladder, saw the tulle in a wrinkled wad on the gazebo floor, and went back up. First things first, old girl, I said to myself.

  For more time than I cared to think about, I folded and looped, wired and tied the tulle into a floating, gossamer gob of shimmering clouds.

  “Bretta, that is absolutely fabulous,” said Evelyn from the gazebo steps. “It’s just the way Nikki and I had it pictured. Thank you.”

  I rubbed my neck, trying to get rid of the crick. My legs and feet ached from climbing and standing on the narrow rungs of the ladder. It helped ease my pain that I’d accomplished what I set out to do, and the work had been approved.

  “How’s everything going?” I asked.

  “Wonderful,” said Evelyn. She glanced at her watch. “Nikki and the rest of her bridal party should be here in another few hours. I can’t wait.”

  “She’s cutting it pretty close.”

  “I know. I spent a horrible night last night. But things are going to work out just as I’ve planned. I’m leaving in a few minutes to check on the hotel rooms. My guests will need snacks to help them recuperate. I want them to have whatever they need.”

  “Will they be coming out here?”

  “Not right away. The limo will deliver them to the park later this evening.”

  I started to say that they ought to get a feel for the garden, but at this point I didn’t care. I just wanted my part done.

  “Did you see the shrubs?” I asked.

  “I’m glad you brought that up. I saw them, and they aren’t shiny enough.”

  “Really?” My eyes narrowed. “What would you suggest?”

  “I have a case of aerosol lacquer in my car. It’s on the backseat. The doors aren’t locked. Have your man unload the box and give each bush a quick touch-up. I want those leaves to gleam in the candlelight.”

  My jaw dropped. Before I had recovered, Sonya called, “Evelyn, could you come over here? This lamp oil has an unusual odor.”

  Evelyn touched my arm. “You’re doing an excellent job, Bretta. Now, see to those shrubs.” To Sonya, she said, “I’ve checked the oil. It’s what I ordered. Nikki loves the smell of clematis blossoms. I had the oil specially blended even though the cost made me blink twice.”

  I’d never noticed a scent from the blossom of a clematis vine. I started toward the group so I could have a whiff, but my path crossed Lew’s. I explained about the case of lacquer in Evelyn’s car.

  “I’ll get it,” he said, “but you might want to go to the hospital. I have my cell phone with me, and Lois called from the shop. Mr. Monroe is pitching a fit. He wants to see you immediately.”

  “Bailey?” My heart skipped a beat. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Haven’t a clue, Boss. I’ll go get the lacquer, and I suppose you want me to do the spraying?”

  “Yes. You, Marjory, and Eleanor spray the shrubs. The rental company has finished setting up the chairs for the guests. Now I can attach the satin bows. After that, I have to do the display by the entrance into the reception tent. White satin is to cover the wire stands that are to be at different heights for the bouquets.”

  I thought a moment. “Did I put that tall pedestal in the SUV? Yeah. Yeah.” I nodded. “I remember taking it out of the closet.” I shrugged. “Anyway, by the time we finish these jobs, it’ll be after twelve, and Lois and Gertrude will arrive with lunch and the helium for the balloons. For the rest of the afternoon, you’ll be trundling back and forth from the park to the shop hauling bouquets. Our extra helpers will be inflating balloons.”

  “What about Mr. Monroe?”

  I raised my chin. “What about him?”

  “Are you going to the hospital?”

  “I just gave you a rundown on what I’m doing. Did I mention leaving the park?”

  Lew pursed his lips. “Fine. I’m turning off my phone. If he should get my number, he might call me. I don’t need to be harassed by a man I’ve never met. I have people closer at hand doing an excellent job of that.”

  I grimaced. “I’m sorry. Don’t you feel the pressure we’re under? Am I the only one worried about details?”

  A wail of displeasure rose from the food-preparation tent. Lew cocked his head in that direction. “Sounds like another nervous Nellie. Marjory, Eleanor, and I will be spritzing bushes if you need us.”

  The conflict in the tent subsided quickly. I went over anyway, and met Evelyn as she was leaving. She brushed past me without a word, headed for the parking lot. I stepped into the tent and saw Dana kick an ice chest. Instantly, she dropped to her knees and lifted the lid to see if the contents of the chest had been harmed by her temper.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Dana spoke over her shoulder. “That woman and I don’t jive. Nothing I do suits her.”

  “It isn’t an exclusive club. I’m a founding member. What’s her problem now?”

  Dana stood up and moved to a cart that held a huge deep-fat fryer. “She doesn’t want me to start frying the shrimp until eight o’clock, when the ceremony begins. That gives me thirty to forty-five minutes to have everything ready for the guests. I told her if there’s one glitch, then everything will be thrown off this tight schedule. Evelyn has assured me there will not be any glitches.”

  I shook my head. “I have problems, too. Maybe we need a break.” I looked at the boxes, sacks, and ice chests sitting on the tables. “Have you got anything to drink?”

  “Nothing cold, but I have a thermos of coffee. Want some?”

  “Oh, yes, if you have enough to share.”

  She nodded, got out some Styrofoam cups, and filled two. As she handed mine across to me, she said, “I’m telling you upfront, I’m not discussing Claire’s death. We can chat about other things but not her murder.”

  I led the way to a table near the front of the tent. We sat and sipped. It was an effort, but I didn’t say a word. After a while, Dana began to talk. I hid a smile. When something is on your mind, it’s hard to keep still.

  “I hit my stride in high school,” said Dana. “I was forty pounds lighter. I was a cheerleader. I was dating three guys at one time. I thought I had the world by the tail. I could do anything, be anything I wanted.” She glanced at me. “I didn’t care about the extinction of a stupid milkweed plant. But I liked stealing the lemon extract from Ms. Beecher, the home ec teacher. She was such a crab. Said my cooking lacked skill and finesse.”

  I laid it on thick. “This Ms. Beecher should see you now.” I sniffed the air. “It smells wonderful in here. You’re a true professional, Dana.”

  Dana looked pleased, but demurely said, “I don’t know about that.”

  “I know you ladies need to get into gear,” said Sonya. “You don�
��t have time to sit and gossip.”

  I stood and faced Sonya. “I’m well aware of my responsibilities. If you’ll excuse me, I have to attach satin bows to chairs.” I walked off but glanced over my shoulder. I expected to see Sonya giving Dana hell for talking to me, but Sonya had moved on and Dana had gone back to work.

  I tied the bows to the chairs. I inspected the shrubs, which now looked artificial with their sheen of lacquer. I positioned the wire stands for the display by the entrance into the reception tent, then draped the stands with white satin cloth.

  Lois and Gertrude arrived with food and the helium tank. After we’d eaten, I put the three extra helpers to work inflating the latex balloons, then I sent Lew to the shop for the first load of bouquets.

  Finding a spare minute, I sat on the gazebo steps and said to Lois, “I’m exhausted. Remind me of this day when I’m asked to do another wedding.”

  Lois leaned against the railing and grinned. “You wanted the kudos. Can’t get them without showing your talent.”

  “I feel more like a pack animal than a florist. Do you have any idea how many trips I’ve made to the SUV for tools and materials?”

  “Nope. Have you made any trips to the hospital?”

  “Don’t even start on Bailey.”

  “I talked to him. He doesn’t understand why you won’t come see him.”

  “Did you tell him I’m busy with this wedding?”

  “Yes, but we both agree you could find the time to make a quick visit.”

  I glared. “I don’t need you siding with him.” I waved a hand, dismissing the subject of Bailey Monroe. “I’m not discussing him. Let’s talk about something else.”

  Lois curtsied. “What’s your pleasure, madam?” She raised an eyebrow. “Murder?”

  My tone was dry. “That’s a safe topic.” But I couldn’t resist filling her in on the conversation I’d had yesterday in the park with Sonya, Dana, and Kasey. “Those girls set fire to that glade using lemon extract as an accelerant. Can you believe that?”