Roses and Daisies and Death Oh My!

by Petersen, Penny Clover

  Daisy stood up and said, “Thanks, Walt, for all the goodies. I think we should get down to business. We’re here to figure out what we can do about these break-ins. Rose and I just got a dog and a security system. But I think we probably should set up a Neighborhood Watch program. Any ideas?”

  Marc Proctor said, “First, I’d like to know just how many of us besides Hazel have had break-ins? I know about five of them, but have there been more? And was anything stolen?”

  “I’ve been asking everyone and I’m pretty sure it’s just the five,” said Mary Newhart. “And no, nothing of value was stolen. Just a couple of little trinkets at my place - a paperweight, a letter opener, and a cup and saucer. Whoever broke in wasn’t even destructive. I could tell they’d nosed around and pawed through things. And they moved stuff, but they didn’t break anything,”

  Sandy Peters who owned Picture Perfect said, “The same thing at my place. Whoever it was moved things around and emptied all of the cartons in the storeroom. They did open every single one of my glass and crystal boxes in the case by the register which I thought was peculiar because they left them all there. I didn’t find anything missing except a box of Christmas ornaments, a couple of Matrushka dolls and a rather pretty Faberge-style egg I got at an estate sale last week.”

  “What about that bum that we keep seeing wandering around? Could he be doing it?” wondered Walt. “Hazel thought she saw him hanging around your place, Marc.”

  “I guess that’s possible,” replied Marc. “I can’t imagine why he would, though. None of the stuff that was taken is worth anything to speak of. But I wonder if he saw anything. He seems to be around quite a bit.”

  “I think we should talk to him,” said Rose. “Or one of us should. All of us would scare him away. Not to mention it would look ridiculous. Marc, maybe you could have a few words with him.”

  Marc nodded his head and said, “Sure.”

  Rose continued, “In the meantime, the police said they would step up patrols, but they’re stretched pretty thin. I think we should try to talk to the other owners and encourage everyone we know to keep a sharper eye on the neighborhood.

  “Of course, nighttime is the biggest problem. Maybe we should talk to the people who live on Azalea and Market, too. There are only a couple besides Daisy and me, but we should all be a little more watchful.”

  There was a lot of head nodding and Walt said, “Sounds good to me.”

  Rose asked, “Any other suggestions? No? Well, why don’t we make it a point to talk to the other owners today? Daisy, Marc and I will take this side of the bridge. Walt, Sandy and Mary take the other.”

  “All right,” said Sandy.

  Marc got up and said, “I think I’ll try to talk to that drifter this evening. That’s when I usually see him around.”

  Marc waited for the rest of the guests to go. “I know this is last minute, but would you two like to go out on the Bay with me tomorrow afternoon? It’s time to put the boat into storage for the winter, but I really wanted one last cruise before I have it put away.”

  Rose started to say, “Oh, we’ve got a million things to do,” but Daisy interrupted and said, “We’d love to. Our million things can be done another day. Rose, we’ve been working our butts off this week and an afternoon on the Bay sounds just wonderful.”

  “You’re right. We could use a break. Should we bring anything?”

  “Nope. You might want to wear warm clothes. The Bay can get pretty cold in November. I’ll pick you up at ten.”

  Sunday afternoon was delicious. The bright autumn sunshine glistened on the water and warmed the late November air.

  Marc kept his boat, a beautiful little twenty-five foot cabin cruiser called The Miss Adventure, at Harbour Cove Marina in Deale, Maryland just half an hour or so from Old Towne. The ladies were delighted to find a picnic hamper packed with a thermos of hot tea, cheese and apples.

  The Chesapeake Bay was as smooth as glass and the day stayed sunny and brisk. Daisy had thought to pull on long underwear and she bundled up in her Aran fisherman’s knit pullover. Rose opted for the less nautical look of her cranberry down parka.

  Marc looking like the captain in an old pea coat, scarf and knit cap drove them north for almost an hour and soon they saw the Chesapeake Bay bridges looming up.

  “I thought we’d have a late lunch on Kent Island and head back before it gets dark. If that’s all right with you.”

  It was most certainly all right. Marc docked at a lovely restaurant with an outdoor Tiki bar that sat on a pier extending into a sheltered cove. They relaxed under the bright November sun sipping Hot Rum Punch in pineapple shaped mugs and watching sail boats glide across the water.

  “Wow, this is really just lovely,” said Rose. “You couldn’t have picked a more perfect day.”

  “It is beautiful. I wish I had more time to spend out here. But I have to pay for all this somehow.”

  “Yes, life would be so much simpler if work were optional. Although I really do like running our own business. It is a lot of effort, but it’s ours,” said Rose.

  Daisy said, “Marc, what do you really think about our little crime spree?”

  “I think it’s probably just kids with too much time on their hands.” He laughed, “I know antique dealers can be pretty sketchy at times, but they wouldn’t do this kind of thing. And now with most of us having alarms and all of us keeping a close watch, I’d guess that will be end of it.”

  Daisy asked, “Did you get to speak to that man, the homeless person? Did you find out if he saw anything?”

  “Ted? No, I haven’t spoken to him yet. He didn’t show up last night. He usually comes wandering around in the early evening. Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been helping him out some. We often have something to eat together.

  “He’s really not a bad guy. Just an alcoholic who lost his way. Doesn’t say much, just eats and goes off for the night. But I didn’t see him last evening.”

  A waiter came out and led them inside to their table. The menu was pure Eastern shore. Crab in a half a dozen variations, fried chicken, clams, oysters, shrimp, all kinds of fish, ham. Cole slaw, applesauce, winter vegetables, hush puppies and corn bread served family style came with everything.

  “It’s too bad it’s too late for home grown corn and tomatoes,” said Daisy. She looked up at the waiter who had just come back to take their order. “I’m having the cream of crab soup and a broiled crab cake.”

  “Me too,” said Rose. “That sounds really good.”

  “Well, I’m going to make it easy. I’ll have the same.”

  “What did you mean the antique dealers can be pretty sketchy? You know this how?” asked Rose as she sipped hot tea and nibbled at a piece of apple pie she was sharing with Daisy.

  “Well, I’m ashamed to admit that when I was starting out I guess I wasn’t always as careful as I should have been. I didn’t do anything absolutely illegal, but I didn’t always check the provenance of items that came my way. Lots of dealers don’t ask questions, but it’s wrong. Now I insist on knowing where and how a seller came by whatever he wants to sell me.

  “There really is quite a network in stolen goods. Especially jewelry and small items like that. It’s easy to move and hard to trace. Anybody can come in with a beautiful old diamond ring and say it was her grandmother’s. Who’s to say it wasn’t.”

  “I’m glad we chose to sell new merchandise. It’s cut and dried. And we know where it comes from,” said Daisy.

  She folded her napkin and looked out at the water. “I wonder if these break-ins really will stop now. I don’t know. I just feel like something weird is going on. The whole thing doesn’t really make sense.” She shook her head, “It just feels wrong.”

  Rose said, “You’re letting your imagination get to you. At any rate it shouldn’t bother you, anyway. You have Malcolm for protection now. Marc, lunch was delicious and I could sit here forever, but I think it’s time to head back. Those clouds look a little threateni
ng.”

  Sure enough a bank of dark clouds was gathering to the northeast of them.

  Marc said, “Yep. Time to get going. You wouldn’t like it out here in a storm.” He paid the bill and they were underway in minutes.

  They stayed just ahead of the storm, but the Bay turned choppy as the wind picked up. Daisy and Rose pulled their hats over their ears and hung on to their seats as Marc maneuvered expertly across the water keeping to a minimum the jolts as they hit waves.

  “Look at that! Those clouds are magnificent!” shouted Daisy over the rising winds. “But I’m glad we’re running ahead of them.

  A little over an hour later they were all thankful when The Miss Adventure finally docked.

  The storm followed them home and as he pulled up in front of The Elms the wind picked up, the sky opened, and rain poured down. Rose hurriedly thanked Marc for a lovely day and ran inside.

  Daisy sat in the car and watched the rain pour over the windshield. “Want to come up for coffee?”

  “Want to? Yes. But I’ve got calls to make tonight and a couple of auction catalogs I need to go through.”

  “Okay. Marc, I had a wonderful day. Thank you.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  They looked at each other for a moment, then Marc pulled Daisy into his arms.

  When Daisy finally came in Rose said, “Marc’s a nice man.”

  “Yes, he is. Why are you smirking like that? We were talking.”

  “Of course, you were.”

  Again the next morning Daisy woke to hear Rose yelling, “Daisy, come get this mutt. He’s at it again. What a weirdo. I guess I should be happy he’s only licking. He woke me up twice last night barking his little head off looking out the living room window.”

  “I heard him, too,” said Daisy as she slipped on sweats and running shoes. “The raccoons must have been out. They’ve been real pests lately.”

  Daisy walked into Rose’s room holding Malcolm’s leash. “Hurry up, the sun’s out and the day looks to be just gorgeous.” She knelt down to talk to the dog. “Come on, Malcolm. Who’s a good boy who keeps us safe from nasty raccoons? Time for walkies.”

  The day was beautiful with a fresh washed look to it. As usual they walked along the trail and Malcolm kept close. He casually humped a couple of small bushes, but mostly just sniffed and moved on.

  They had been walking about fifteen minutes when he suddenly started barking his little furry head off. He broke loose and ran ahead.

  “Malcolm, calm down,” yelled Daisy. “Where are you going? Malcolm, come back here. Right now! Malcolm!”

  She watched as he took off toward the woods. He had run about thirty feet into the bracken when he stopped short and started howling in the most mournful way.

  Daisy called again, “Malcolm. Come back here.” But the little dog just kept howling and pawing at the ground. She looked at Rose, “Someone’s going to have to go get him. I’ll bet there are burs in there.”

  Rose said, “He’s not my dog. You go.”

  Daisy sighed and picked her way through the undergrowth. She got to Malcolm, grabbed his leash and said, “Malcolm, what is the matter…?” Daisy she looked down at the ground where Malcolm was pawing and screamed.

  She dragged Malcolm back to the path. They were both shaking and poor Malcolm’s howling had turned into whimpers.

  Rose asked, “What is it?”

  “Call 911. I think it’s that homeless guy, Ted. I couldn’t see his face, but he’s wearing those red high tops. Rose, he’s covered in blood! I think he’s been murdered.”

  Chapter Three

  Daisy was amazed at the number of fire trucks, ambulances and police cars that jammed the trail. The first policeman on the scene, as luck would have it, was Officer Tom Willis. Daisy looked around at all of the commotion and asked him, “Is all this routine?”

  “Well, most of it, yes, since it does appear to be murder. But I was surprised when the state boys were called in right away.

  “Ms. Forrest, would you like to sit down in my cruiser? You look a little pale.”

  “He’s right, Daisy, you look awful. Let’s wait in the car.”

  They were sitting in Willis’s cruiser when an unmarked sedan pulled up. Daisy watched as her ex-husband, Maryland State Police Detective Bill Greene got out and walked over to Tom.

  She slumped deeper into the seat and sighed, “Wonderful! Of all the gin joints in all the world, I cannot believe he’s walking into mine! I really thought the day couldn’t get any worse.”

  Bill talked to Tom for a minute, then walked over to the cruiser. “Hello, Daisy.”

  Daisy looked up. “Bill. I was just saying to Rose that you’ve made my day.”

  “And you’ve made mine! I understand you two found the body? What were you doing out here this early? I don’t remember you being an early riser.”

  Daisy gritted her teeth. “Rose and I walk here every morning. Why are you here, anyway? Are they sending out the big guns for a vagrant, now? Or have you been demoted?”

  Rose said, “Children, don’t start. There’s a dead man over there.”

  “If you could tell me what happened just briefly, you can go on home and I’ll be by later to take an official statement,” said Bill.

  Rose told him about finding the body and Daisy filled him in on the break-ins and trashing of Hazel’s bookstore. She looked toward the bushes and said, “A homeless guy wearing red high tops has been hanging around lately. I’ve seen him near Marc Proctor’s shop a couple of times. We thought he might have seen something. Marc was going to talk to him, but I don’t think he had a chance.”

  “Marc Proctor? Sells used furniture?”

  “Antiques, you moron. Okay Bill, what’s really going on here? Why did they send you? This isn’t the kind of thing that you investigate,” said Daisy.

  “You two go home. I’ve got a lot to do here, but I’ll come by later.”

  “I like that! Dismissed by the great man himself!” said Daisy as she and Rose trudged home with Malcolm bringing up the rear. “Why would they send him out? He only works really big cases. Except, of course, when he’s working really dumb women.”

  “Look Daisy, I am furious with Bill for the way he treated you, but I think we have to figure out a way to keep peace for now. Apparently he’s the one investigating and if we want to find out what’s going on, you and I will have to be civil.”

  “Maybe that wasn’t our homeless guy. Maybe it was someone else. I told you I couldn’t see his face. Maybe it was someone important.”

  Rose stopped and turned back to find Malcolm lagging behind. “Poor Malcolm, he’s really upset about this. Look at him. Standing right next to that bush and not even a sniff for it, much less a hump. Come on boy, we’re almost home.”

  “I’m sorry, little buddy, that was a terrible thing to find,” said Daisy as she bent over and petted his head. She picked him up and they turned onto Azalea Lane. They were looking forward to hot tea and toast before they opened the shop when Mary Newhart popped out of her door.

  “What’s going on up there? I heard the sirens.”

  “Malcolm, Daisy and I were walking on the path and poor old Malcolm found a dead body,” said Rose. “I think it might be that homeless guy who’s been hanging around. At least, this man was wearing red high tops like he did.”

  “Oh Lord, that’s awful. Could you tell what happened to him?”

  Rose paused for a moment and then said, “Not really. He was mostly covered with leaves. I mean Daisy didn’t look too closely. It was clear he was dead – bugs and things, so we called 911 and just waited for the police.”

  “Well, what did they say? I mean this is scary. We just don’t have dead bodies lying around here.”

  “They didn’t tell us anything. Just that some policeman would come by later and take our statements. Right now, we’d just like to get home, feed Malcolm and open the shop. I’ll let you know what’s what when we know something.”

  “Yo
u didn’t tell her he was murdered,” said Daisy as they let themselves in and trudged upstairs.

  “No. I’m not sure why. Everyone will find out soon enough. I’m just a little uneasy right now.”

  “I know what you mean. I know it’s probably a mugging or a drunken fight, but we’ve never had that sort of thing before around here. I think this must have something to do with these break-ins. Doesn’t it seem like a strange coincidence that he was murdered right after Marc suggested talking to him?” asked Daisy.

  Rose paused a moment and then said, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “Could be. If you’re thinking that someone who was at the shop owners meeting didn’t want anyone talking to Ted, our resident vagrant.”

  “I caught the case because the particular piece of land his body was found on is owned by the state. And when the first trooper got here he checked the guy for ID. These bums don’t usually have any on them, but we got lucky this time. He had an old driver’s license stuck in a pocket.

  “Theodore Williamson. Used to be a state cop, but resigned from the department under a cloud. The brass would like to keep a lid on the whole thing. They don’t want old dirty laundry being aired just now. So I was the lucky one chosen to figure out if Williamson was up to anything and to make it go away.”

  Daisy had closed the shop early when Bill Greene came by that afternoon. They had given their statements to him and were sitting in the sunroom. Rose was tired and pale. Daisy was on edge. The weather had turned blustery and cold to match their moods.

  Daisy said, “Well, that makes a little more sense. We couldn’t figure out why you showed up. Could you tell what happened to him?”