Violets and Venom:: Book Two in the Black Orchid Mystery Series

by Pyper James

  “Well, let’s go see what Princeton Wyatt has grown in his garden.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Are you sure this is okay,” Winifred asked as the duo lifted the yellow tape and walked down the Wyatt driveway. Max trudged slowly being the ladies as though he felt the need to be cautious as well.

  “Johnathan knew full well what he was doing when he gave me the lead on the flowers. Besides, we’re helping. They don’t have the manpower for this kind of grassroots sleuthing.” The smile returned to Vivica’s face and she practically hopped as they made their way down the long drive. If there was any nervousness there, the adrenaline and eagerness shut it out. There was no need to pause in the front yard as Mr. Wyatt kept the area minimalist at best. Vivica was so shaken when she was at the home before, she didn’t pay any attention to vegetation. This time, that was the only thing Vivica focused on. Maximus trotted along, getting ahead of the women. He was a protector, a big sleeper, but a protector none the less. Dropping his muzzle close to the ground, Max investigated in the way only dogs can.

  Pulling out her cell phone, Vivica pulled up Google and did a quick search. She wanted a picture of the oleander as a point of reference. Winnie did well keeping up with Vivica, but by the time they got to the back of the house, Winnie needed to take a moment's break. Vivica helped her friend to the risers and Winnie took a breather on the stairs.

  “Rest, Winnie,” I’ll take a look around.”

  Max started to follow Vivica.

  “No Maximus, stay,” Vivica commanded. She couldn’t afford for Max to go snooping and run upon something that could be harmful. Max had a powerful sense of smell. Still, Vivica wasn’t comfortable risking it. Max tilted his head as if to suggest Vivica’s command was in error. When she didn’t waiver, Maximus climbed the stairs and sat down near Winnie.

  “Be careful,” Winnie warned.

  “No worries, Vivica said with a smile and a wave. Fortunately, the garden wasn’t far. As elaborate as the homes were on Remington Court they were not replete with large lots. It was a good thing because Winnie could keep her eyes on Vivica.

  Mr. Wyatt did have a garden and just as demonstrated in his home and in the front yard, he was a minimalist. The bank of flowers bordered the edge of the lawn, evenly around the backyard. There were no wild growing bushes or patches of unmanicured free flowing bulbs. It was a process of elimination and Princeton Wyatt made that process very easy. Many of the flowers in his garden were things Vivica immediately recognized and things she could immediately rule out. Winifred watched with a wary eye, sometimes craning her neck to see precisely what Vivica was doing. She too would have some explaining to do if anything were to happen to Vivica on her watch. Aunt Mildred was not to be trifled with when it came to her only niece.

  As Vivica made her way to the last quarter of the garden in the furthest possible corner, her steps slowed. Refreshing the cell phone screen, Vivica examined the picture and then looked closely at a neat row of flowers planted there. Many of the characteristics of the oleander were reflected in the flower she was looking at. She knelt down to get a closer look, just to be sure. Identification of the toxic plant wasn’t as easily as one would imagine. Like Winnie said, the oleander didn’t come with a warning sign. The plant grew singularly and in bushes. The color of the petals was like a rainbow and could range from stark white to a mixture of pinks and whites, to solid red or yellow or fuchsia.

  “How will you be able to tell it apart?”

  Vivica had been so consumed with what she was doing, she didn’t hear Winnie mosey up behind her.

  “You scared me,” Vivica said flatly, after her heart jumped into her throat and she spun around hearing something that broke her concentration. Maximus stood right behind Winifred. The fact that she didn’t hear Max’s heavy breathing was a sure sign Vivica had been deep in thought.

  “This is not going to be easy,” Vivica confirmed. “The oleander looks like so many other flowers I recognize.”

  “Well, we can’t touch it,” Winnie warned. “Doing that could be dangerous.”

  Vivica pulled back her gaze for a moment. She wasn’t as prepared for this part of the process as she originally thought.

  “Hold on a second,” Vivica said; lifting up from kneeling and making a beeline for the driveway. Her quick steps got Vivica to the yellow tape in no time, and across the street to the van. She might not have been fully prepared but Vivica wasn’t completely unprepared either. Opening the car door, Vivica reached into the back and grabbed her shoulder bag. Inside, there was a box of latex gloves. She grabbed a couple sets and started back down the driveway.

  Simon finished saying goodbye to Pearl and descended the stairs when something moving near the Wyatt house caught his attention. There was a young lady jogging down the driveway. That’s a crime scene, Simon considered as he watched the young lady disappear behind Preston’s house.

  “What on earth is she doing there,” Simon asked aloud, his feet moving towards the Wyatt home and further away from his own. Pearl was already back in the house. He wouldn’t bother her with his speculation. This could be perfectly innocent. But what if it wasn’t?

  Maximus still held his post on Winifred’s side when Vivica rounded the corner. He smelled her before he saw his master so there was no need to bark a warning. Vivica was pleased with herself having thought of the gloves. Donning a pair, she had her way over to the potential oleander plant.

  “Now, if I can just snap off a blossom and a few leaves, then we can take them to Johnathan for testing to see if this is indeed the oleander plant.”

  That sounded like a good idea to Winnie, but she still cautioned Vivica to be careful.

  “The plant doesn’t have thorns on it, does it,” Winnie asked, bending over as much as the baby would allow getting a closer look.

  “Not that I remember reading,” Vivica answered. She leaned in and then squatted down in her knees taking a closer look.

  “Nah, looks like petals and leaves,” Vivica replied.

  Carefully, Vivica picked a section of the plant, breaking off the stem at the joint so as not to cause damage to the plant itself. The oleander could continue to grow without interruption, although Mr. Wyatt was no longer there to enjoy it. Once she got the stemmed blossom separated from the plant, Vivica sat the plant down momentarily as she picked up one of the other latex gloves. She held the glove in such a way as to blow air into, loosing up the material that was prone to stick together. The glove would make for a clean environment to put the piece of plant in without risking exposure to any of its potential dangers. Once Vivica had the oleander inside, she rolled the top of the glove down over itself sealing it in.

  A low guttural growl came from Maximus.

  “What on earth are you doing back here?” Mr. Spruce had made his way down the driveway and stumbled upon the girl he saw earlier. As Simon closed the distance between himself and the girls, Maximus began to bark. Vivica stood up and stood next to Winifred who had already turned her attention towards the voice that had come from behind them. When neither woman answered his question, Mr. Spruce raised it again; this time with more intensity.

  “We have permission to be here,” Vivica defended. Maximus was still agitated. He was no longer barking but the low growl continued.

  “By whom?” Simon insisted.

  “The Dahlonega police,” Vivica replied. “And you are?”

  “A concerned citizen,” Simon spat back.

  “We’re just about done, right,” Winnie asked. The tension, even in an open atmosphere was palatable. Mr. Spruce looked harmless enough but Winnie wasn’t willing to take the risk.

  Vivica followed Winifred’s lead. “Yeah, we are done here. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Without being completely conscious of it, neither woman spoke the other’s name, particularly since the older gentleman didn’t offer his to them. The duo passed Mr. Spruce and his eyes trailed them as they turned the corner heading down the drive. Max fell
in line right behind them. He kept his ears open to see if there were footsteps behind him, but Maximus full attention was on his master and her friend. They were his priority. Looking over her shoulder, Vivica checked to see if the man was following them. He wasn’t yet. Winnie and Vivica walked quickly, getting underneath the yellow tape and across the street to the van. Even though her heart beat fast, Vivica was careful with the gloves and the piece of plant she procured. She didn’t want to risk touching anything with gloved hands, possibly spreading contaminant from the oleander plant onto or into Winnie’s van. Checking over her shoulder one more time, Vivica made sure Winnie and Max were safely in the van before removing the gloves she wore and then using the gloves to put the folded glove into a small plastic bag she had. The contaminated gloves were dropped in the plastic bag as well.

  “Stick out your hands,” Winnie said, turning from the passenger seat to the middle of the van where Vivica was. Vivica did as she was told, and Winifred squirted a glob of hand sanitizer into Vivica’s outstretched hands.

  “Rub it on good and all over,” Winnie instructed in the same voice she instructed her sons. Vivica did as she was told, taking yet another glance over her shoulder to see if the creepy old man was following them. Surprisingly, he was not; yet, Vivica took no solace in that. Checking one last time that the plant was secured and the gloves she wore were properly put away to dispose of later, Vivica hit the button that mobilized the side door to close. She climbed into the driver’s seat and closed that door as well.

  “He was kind of creepy, right? Like where did he come from and how did he know we were back there and what is he doing back there? You think I should go and see?”

  “Yes, I don’t know, I have no idea, and no,” Winifred replied. Vivica snapped her head in Winifred’s direction.

  “You’re about as crazy as I am,” Vivica laughed.

  “I know,” Winifred replied. “But whatever that man is doing back there is none of our business. We got what we came for. I would just tell Harper about it.”

  Once again, the answer Winnie provided was logical and reasonable.

  “But aren’t you the least bit curious as to what in the world he’s doing back there?”

  Winifred’s eyes narrowed. “Of course I am,” she admitted.

  Vivica opened the driver’s door. Winifred grabbed her by the arm.

  “Where in the Sam hill do you think you’re going,” Winifred demanded.

  “Like you just said, to check it out,” Vivica coyly replied, easing the grip on her arm and slipping out the driver’s door.

  “I didn’t” Winifred realized she was yelling and that it was pointless with the doors closed. “…say that,” she muttered under her breath. Her eyes were peeled, watching Vivica try to be inconspicuous in broad daylight; tiptoeing and then sprinting across the street. It was almost funny if Winnie wasn’t thinking about the fact that the old man could be not just creepy but dangerous. Winifred reached behind the driver’s seat and grabbed her purse. She phished inside and pulled out her cell phone. Calling Vivica and her phone ringing would totally ruin her cat woman caper. Instead, Winifred texted Vivica. The chirp of a text message might not draw as much attention as the phone ringing. And Winifred was absolutely sure, Vivica’s ringtone was the Beach Boys.

  Vivica’s back was pressed against the Wyatt home. Slowly, she peered around the corner stealing a look to see if there was any movement in the driveway. When her telephone vibrated and then chirped in her pocket, Vivica clamped her lips together tightly to hold back a squeal. Sliding back onto the wall, Vivica’s wide eyes went immediately to the van. She could barely make out Winnie signaling with her phone, shaking it in the air like a mad woman. The thump of Vivica’s heart and her jagged breathing made her chest rise and fall in quick succession. Snatching one more look down the driveway, Vivica pulled her phone from her pocket. Whatever it was Winnie had to say it better be darn good, Vivica thought as she swiped the phone.

  Be careful! and I need to know what’s going on so keep your phone out.

  It was everything Winifred wanted to say that she couldn’t when Vivica slinked out of the van. Instead of smirking or rolling her eyes, Vivica accepted Winnie’s concern, gave her the “OK” universal sign and held her phone firmly in hand as she made the first tentative steps down the driveway. Unless they missed him, the old man was still in the backyard. Vivica desperately wanted to find out what he was doing.

  Vivica didn’t move slowly. She sidestepped along the wall at a pretty good clip, and when she neared the end of the physical structure, she paused, peering around the corner. He was there, standing over the oleander plant. Now it was her turn to surprise him. Tiptoeing again, trying not to make any noise, Vivica drew near to the older man.

  “What are you doing?”

  Unlike Winnie and Vivica when they were surprised, the older man didn’t jump or even alert. He turned slowly to face the voice behind him.

  “Who are you and what are you doing back here,” Vivica asked again.

  Simon gave Vivica the once over; taking his time.

  “Young lady,” he began, most dignified. “Princeton Wyatt was my dear, dear friend,” Simon began. “In his unfortunate absence, someone has to tend to his garden.”

  “But you’re not dressed for gardening, sir. And you still haven’t told me who you are.”

  “And neither have you,” Simon quipped. “My name is Simon Spruce. And I am not dressed for gardening as I had no intention of getting my hands dirty today. I came back here when I saw you and your friend trespassing.”

  Vivica regarded Mr. Spruce, too. He was certainly dressed inappropriately for gardening, with his pressed trousers, button-down shirt and tie, and tweed jacket.

  “I have been gracious enough to provide you with my name. The least you could do is return the courtesy, or shall I call the police?”

  “I am the police,” Vivica replied. When Simon’s thick, unruly eyebrows shifted up his forehead, Vivica swiftly altered her statement. “I’m not exactly the police per say,” she backpedaled. “I’m working with the police on the Wyatt case.”

  Mr. Spruce didn’t look like he was buying it. But instead of continuing to defend her presence, Vivica took the opportunity to learn as much as she could about the elusive Simon Spruce.

  “So how long did you say you’ve known Mr. Wyatt?”

  “I didn’t,” Simon corrected.

  Okay, so he’s not slow by any stretch of the imagination, Vivica reasoned.

  “My apologies, Mr. Spruce. Let me start again. My name is Vivica Meadows. I was the one who found Mr. Wyatt when I delivered flowers to him the other day.”

  “Petunias,” he mused.

  “How did you know?”

  A small smile invaded Mr. Spruce’s lips; not enough to lift his cheeks or put a glimmer in his eye, but just enough that it was noticeable.

  “Because, young lady, Mr. Wyatt is a creature of habit. He ordered petunias because they were his wife’s favorite. He could never get them to grow in his garden, for whatever reason. I would assume, once he learned there was a flower shop delivering fresh flowers, he would have seized the opportunity to have petunias in his home once again.”

  This is good, Vivica thought to herself. This time when Vivica’s phone chirped, she ignored it. Winnie would be livid, but she would just have to wait.

  “I’m assuming you know, knew Mr. Wyatt pretty well, especially since he entrusted his garden to you,” Vivica began. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Mr. Wyatt?”

  Simon Spruce paused thoughtfully and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Vivica’s phone chirped again. Winifred was getting antsy.

  Just a few more minutes, Winnie, I’m coming.

  Vivica couldn’t decide whether Mr. Spruce was contemplating because he could think of someone or because he couldn’t.

  “Princeton was an honorable man,” Mr. Spruce began. “I can’t imagine anyone wanted to hurt him.”

>   Simon’s response could have been sincere. Vivica would think about it for the rest of the afternoon, but for now, she just had one more question.

  “Why would someone like Princeton Wyatt grow the oleander plant?”

  “It’s pretty.”

  That was it. Simon Spruce offered nothing else in response to that question. He started toward the driveway and Vivica walked with him. They didn’t talk anymore until they reached the yellow tape. Being the gentleman that he was, Mr. Spruce lifted the tape as a gesture for Vivica to pass under. His limited mobility due to age didn’t allow Simon to raise his hands too high overhead, but the gesture was appreciated. Vivica ducked underneath and waited for Simon to come through.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Meadows.” Simon didn’t wait for a response, rather turning and walking in the opposite direction. Winnie was red in the face by the time Vivica made it back to the van. Vivica could only imagine the four-letter words Maximus was exposed to being locked in the van with Winfred Baxter when she was pissed. Winnie didn’t wait until Vivica had the door closed before lighting into her.

  “You are going to speed up this delivery, I swear on a stack of bibles, Vivica,” she fussed.

  “What took so long? And why didn’t you answer the phone!?!?”

  Vivica waited for a beat before answering when there would be a better opportunity for Winnie to actually hear what she had to say.

  “First let me start by saying, I’m sorry.”

  Winnie started to protest and Vivica threw up her hand pausing the interruption.

  “Mr. Spruce turned out to be really nice and a friend of Mr. Wyatt’s. We got to talking, he started to open up…”

  “And it would have been rude for you to say, hold on one second Mr. Dogwood or whatever his name was. My very pregnant friend waiting out front for me in the van is calling. She’s concerned that you might be killing me so, I need to take this.” The sing-song sarcasm in Winnie’s tone was so thick, Vivica couldn’t help but burst out laughing. That did not bode well for how salty Winnie was. The arm punch was evidence of that which only made Vivica laugh harder.