Deadly Arrangements (Book Two in the Cozy Flower Shop Mystery Series) (The Flower Shop Mystery Series)

by Annie Adams

  "Hello, Clint," K.C. said.

  He looked up at K.C. then me and paused for a long moment. "Oh, Karma Gale is that you?"

  "Yes, but it's Clackerton, remember?"

  "Right, right, right. How is the old boy?"

  "I'm afraid he's moved on to greener pastures. It's been a few years, now."

  Mr. Wheeler winced. "I guess I did know about that, now that I think about it. Sorry."

  "Not to worry. Actually, I'm getting remarried soon to a great guy. Fred Carr." The farmer’s black, bushy eyebrows perked up and promptly knitted into a scowl. K.C. didn't seem to notice.

  "Did you say Fred Carr?" he asked.

  "Yes, do you know him?" K.C. said.

  "I…well no. I was thinking of someone else, I guess. So what brings you here?"

  "This is my friend and my boss, Quincy McKay. She owns the flower store in town and she wants to ask you something."

  "Hi, yes, I need to cut some long grasses and cattails for a floral arrangement, and I noticed you have some on your property. I just wanted to ask your permission to cut some down."

  "You mean ditch weeds?"

  "Yes, that’s pretty much what we need."

  "Hell, you don't need my permission—pardon my French. Cut down as many as you want. I don't care."

  "Thank you, Mr. Wheeler."

  “Oh, it’s Clint,” he said.

  "We better skedaddle, Clint,” K.C. said. “Thanks a million."

  “Say,” he held up a gloved hand, “you said you have a flower shop?”

  “Yes, it’s called Rosie’s Posies,” I said.

  “Well…” His ruddy cheeks developed a new shine. “I have this uh—lady friend and she’s coming down to visit from Evanston…”

  “I would love to trade some flowers for the grasses.” I had to put him out of his misery, talking about flowers and romance.

  “No trade, those grasses are weeds, I’ll pay you.”

  “We can work that out later. When would you like them?”

  He led us through a side door in the barn, which opened to an office. He used his arm as a plough to push a pile of magazines off of a giant desk calendar. He confirmed the correct date and I agreed to deliver a bouquet on that day.

  "I told you we didn't need permission," K.C. said as we drove away from the farm. "Clint and I go way back. We went to high school together. I haven't seen him in years, but he knew my husband too. He probably came to the funeral, but I guess it's an easy mistake to make. Once you get old like me, you can assume anyone your age might have died already."

  "I think he might know Fred," I said.

  "Don’t you remember? He said he didn't know who he was."

  "That's what he said, but that's not what his face said. His face said that he knows Fred and that it might not be too friendly a relationship."

  "Really? Well who wouldn't like Fred? Maybe his face is just stuck that way. He's always been kind of grouchy at first, until he warms up to you. Ah, here we are. Would you look at those."

  We pulled over to the side of the narrow road and got out of the car. Beautiful brown cattails pierced the sky, like spires on a castle, on the opposite side of the ditch. I took a careful step toward the bank and my weight shifted in the mud. I felt the slightest pang of discomfort in my big toe, which had been broken when I was trapped in a barn similar to the one we had just left. I changed my footing and slid in the soft ground again.

  "K.C., it's pretty muddy out here and I'm not going to be able to jump across the ditch with my toe the way it is. I can't get my footing. Maybe we could come back later with better shoes on."

  "Agreed. Just look at this." K.C.'s foot had sunk about two inches into the ground. We cleaned the mud off as well as we could, threw our shoes into a plastic storage bin in the trunk at K.C.’s insistence, and went back to the shop.

  “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” I said. “If we get any more delivery orders I can take them. Allie and Daphne can watch the shop until closing time.”

  “I thought those gals were staying so you could leave early and get ready for the big date with your beau tonight.”

  “Oh, after our show today, I don’t think Alex will ever want to be seen in public with me again.”

  “Don’t be silly—he’s used to you."

  "What does that mean?”

  She pursed her lips and glanced sideways, as if searching for an excuse, "It means he likes you, that’s all. You two are just fine. Anyway, since you’re offering, I think I will go see my sweet-ums. But don’t you work late. Go spend time with Alex.”

  ***

  I sat down at the desk in my office once inside the store. Allie and Daphne were cleaning the melted wax out of over two hundred glass votive candleholders we had used to decorate a recent wedding reception. We’d hung them all over the church gymnasium to create more wedding ambiance and less sweaty basketball playing ambiance. Combined with the other décor, they had been stunning, but now they were stubbornly holding on to all of that melted and hardened wax. I had supply catalogs to go through and orders for glassware to place with vendors and preparation plans to get to before the local high school’s homecoming dance, which would be the week after K.C.'s wedding.

  Yep, there were plenty of reasons I wouldn't be able to see Alex after work. So what if one of those reasons was me making a fool out of myself in front of him and the beautiful woman who was trying to win him over—despite K.C.'s contrary version of what had happened. I did smile at the fact Samantha’s recitation of Alex’s schedule included a meeting later that night. It was our date. At least he’d kept that tidbit from her. Unless he was having second thoughts about our date. Maybe “a meeting” was code for something he would try to get out of.

  As frustrated as he must have been, maybe the prospect of an evening with crazy, hesitant Quincy was more than he could stand. And maybe the thought of spending it with Samantha was more appealing. She wouldn’t hesitate about doing anything, I was sure.

  I buried my head under my arms on the desk.

  I really did need to get the grasses and cattails cut and ready for the large autumn arrangement in a couple of days. I would need time to harvest the greenery, of course, but also to clean and de-bug the stems. I sat up in the chair and pondered my schedule. The more I pondered, the more wide open it looked, since my current boyfriend would be my ex-boyfriend soon—right after he started dating Samantha.

  And what about her son? Alex was an honorable man. I couldn't imagine him ignoring the fact that he had a child in California who was without a father. He would probably want to move to California as soon as he found out about the little boy.

  I looked up at the computer screen and noticed the pointer circling around and around. I had been tracing circles over and over again with the mouse. I needed something else to focus on.

  “Quincy. Yoo-hoo, hello in there.”

  I looked up at Allie, who clutched a phone to her chest.

  “Are you okay?” she said.

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was just thinking about something.”

  “It looks like it.” She smiled. “Here’s something else to think about. Mom wants to talk to you.” Before I could respond, she handed the phone over.

  “Hi, Mom. So…what’s new with you?”

  “Very funny, my dear. Your father told me he came by to visit. He sounds pretty impressed with Alex.”

  “That’s great.” Alex claimed he liked my father too. He just didn’t dare look at me when in the same room as my dad.

  “Listen, I know it’s late notice, but we want to invite you two to dinner tonight.”

  Dinner. With my parents. And Alex. Not great timing at all. I didn’t want to explain why Alex might not be attending.

  “By you two, you mean me and Allie, right?”

  “No, of course not. Allie is already coming.”

  “Oh, you mean, K.C.? To talk about wedding plans?”

  My mother’s forced sigh came through the phone so
loud I think I might have felt her breath hitting my face through the receiver. “I mean Alex, of course. Ah, wait a minute, you’re teasing me, aren’t you? I’m afraid I don’t have time for jokes, honey. I’ve got to get everything ready.”

  “I don’t know if he’ll be able to make it…short notice and all…”

  “I know it’s not much time, but we really want him to come to dinner, and I’ve already cleaned the house and made all the preparations. There’s something we want to discuss with the two of you.”

  There it was. It took her some time to come around to it, but the ulterior motive had just presented itself. She wanted to lecture us about church, or maybe the neighbors had been tattling on me for who knows what.

  My mother’s secret army—or not so secret depending how you looked at it—of friends, neighbors, and church ladies was always up for a good sharing session of the intel they had gathered while out and about town. The secret society gals had hit pay-dirt with the events occurring in my life as of late. One of them had probably seen Alex with Samantha this afternoon and couldn’t wait to phone up my mother and share the good stuff.

  “Mom, I’m sorry you’ve gone to all the trouble, but…”

  “No buts. We’re leaving the house at seven.”

  “I thought you cleaned the house up for dinner.”

  “I did. What if someone needs to use the restroom?”

  I’d forgotten that any sign of a visitor to the house warranted a top to bottom, thorough scrubbing and scouring. Just on the off-chance someone might ask to use the powder room before leaving to their destination.

  "Oh, and one more thing," Mom said. "Quinella, please dress up a little bit. No t-shirts."

  Well now I really wanted to go.

  I gave a weak maybe to my mom and got off the phone.

  "What's with this dinner thing?" I asked Allie.

  She shrugged. "I don't know. I meant to tell you about it earlier, but I got distracted and then, well you know, I kind of forgot."

  "What's mom got up her sleeve? Why the sudden desire to have a big family dinner?"

  "I don't know. I've been so busy with school lately, I haven't been home much. And to tell you the truth, I've kind of avoided the situation there. Not that anything's wrong—it's just very different with dad there again. I kind of don't know where I fit in, really."

  Though I didn't live at my parent's house, I sympathized with my sister. We didn't have much time to talk about our current domestic and family issues though, because Jacqueline DeMechant walked in the front door accompanied by a man I’d never seen before.

  I approached the front counter and before I could greet anyone, Jacqueline spoke up.

  “Quincy. I have some news.”

  My stomach dropped. She was going to tell me something bad had happened to Brock.

  “Jenny’s wedding is off.”

  I waited for her to say why, to talk about her daughter’s feelings, about her daughter’s missing fiancé—something. But nothing came, except the peculiar giddiness she exuded.

  “Oh dear. Is it Brock?”

  “Well of course it’s Brock. He’s disappeared. We can’t very well have a wedding without the groom.”

  “You mean there’s no news about him?”

  “No, and I don’t have time to wait around any longer. All isn’t lost though. Quincy, this is my fiancé, Bruce Tanner.”

  “Hi there.” The man nodded at me quickly. It wasn’t unfriendly, but it wasn’t an overly warm gesture either.

  “Bruce and I have a proposal for you. We’ve spent all this money on wedding flowers and we don’t want it to go to waste.”

  “This is an extreme case, Jacqueline. We can issue a credit to be used when they find Brock and the wedding is rescheduled.”

  “Brock isn’t coming back,” she said.

  I stopped short and a cold shiver ran down my spine.

  I paused. “I see.” I didn’t see, but I played along. “You were talking about a proposal?”

  “Yes,” Bruce said. “I live in a plain old bachelor pad. Jackie…er…Jacqueline has a much better eye for decorating than I ever will. You go on and tell her.” He looked at Jacqueline with a trained-dog expression.

  “We purchased so many permanent botanicals to decorate with and now they’re just sitting, gathering dust. I’d like you to make some centerpieces and accent pieces with them to use at Bruce’s condominium.”

  “What the heck are permanent…what did you call them?” Bruce said.

  “Botanicals. Their more common name is silk or artificial flowers,” Jacqueline said.

  “Oh, pardun-a-moi,” Bruce said, then chuckled at his own joke.

  Jacqueline slowly glanced sideways at him, then closed her eyelids as if seeking relief from the tedium of Bruce.

  “We could definitely do that, if you’re sure, Jacqueline.”

  “I am sure. Also, I would like you to go through the condominium and look through the space. We will need some non-floral accent pieces such as paintings and statuary. I’ve added a few pieces of my own, but I’m getting ready for a trip and just won’t have time to do the running around.”

  That’s what she had me for.

  “I must tell you, Jacqueline, I’m not an interior designer.”

  “I have every confidence in your abilities, Quincy.”

  A vote of confidence from a customer, even a condescending and sometimes difficult customer like Jacqueline, was a great ego booster, especially on a day when there wasn’t much besides ego blasters going on for me.

  We scheduled time for a visit to Bruce Tanner’s condo to do a first walk-through and take measurements. I worried that I shouldn’t have agreed to continue working for Jacqueline, because of the whole situation with the groom and the kidnapping. But I reasoned that the police were doing everything they could to find Brock. Jacqueline was acting strange about the whole thing, but I reminded myself that she acted strange all the time.

  The couple left behind a pungent remembrance. Her perfume and his cologne combined into a nostril-insulting stew that remained in the store as a dense fog.

  "Wow, I'm feeling dizzy from that smell," Daphne said from the back workroom. "What is it?"

  "It's just Jacqueline's calling card. I wouldn't be surprised if one day, she and Bruce left their car closed up on a hot day and it spontaneously combusted from the fumes left inside. How do they not smell each other?" I said.

  "Maybe they're both hard of smelling," Allie said. "Each one is over-compensating for their own lack of smell."

  "You're probably right. By the way, did you hear us talking about an interior design job?" I said.

  "I heard bits and pieces. Isn't it strange they don't seem to care that Brock is missing? She made it sound like he got cold feet. He didn't just leave, did he?" Allie said.

  "I don't know. Brock was with Fred that morning and while Fred's back was turned, Brock disappeared. At least, that's what Fred said. I don't know what to think. I'm sure Jacqueline has more information than we do because of her daughter being Brock's fiancée, but you would think we would have heard by now if he really just left. It doesn't all make sense to me, but I'm just the florist."

  "Oh sure, just the florist," Daphne said. "I heard about you solving a murder case."

  "That was just a case of dumb luck, or un-luck, really. As odd as Jacqueline might be, she is our customer and she’s put her trust in us to do the job that she's paying us to do. And that means flowers—and maybe some decorating, but it doesn't include investigating."

  "I guess the boss has spoken," Allie said.

  I looked at Daphne. Her eyes were wide open and unblinking.

  "Don't worry, Daphne." I smiled. "Allie's just teasing. And sometimes I do get too bossy, but in this case it's not just that I'm concerned with serving our customer. From experience, I know I don't want to be involved with any more crime fighting. I got a concussion, a black eye, and a broken big toe, not to mention fearing for my life a few times." I sig
hed for dramatic effect. "Detective work is just not all it's cracked up to be." I winked at Daphne then turned and stuck my tongue out at Allie.

  The phone interrupted our conversation. I answered, "Rosie's Posies, how may I help you?"

  "That's a loaded question, Sweet-pea." My stomach did flip-flops at the sound of Alex's voice.

  "Hi." I wasn't sure how to reply. Had he seen me in Skinny's parking lot with K.C.? And what was he doing having lunch with her? And why was I worried? I trusted him…didn't I?

  "Are you there?" he said.

  "I'm here. I—sorry, I…"

  "Um—we missed you at lunch today."

  "We who? You knew I was there?"

  There was a pause. "Quincy, are you okay?"

  "Yeah, why?"

  "You told Samantha you wanted to meet for lunch, but then you told her you couldn't come at the last minute. Ring any bells?"

  Anger flashed through my mind. "I told her what? She told you I said that?"

  "Yeah, she told me you hadn't had a chance to meet with her and that you asked her to come and meet us for lunch before she went home."

  "That lying, sneaky, little—ooh I just want to strangle her with that stupid pendant she wears in her boobs." I felt like I could breathe fire.

  "Whoa, slow down. What are you talking about?"

  "You know, the necklace that squishes between her…”

  “No, I didn’t mean that. It’s not that attractive anyway—I mean, I hardly noticed—why are you calling her names?”

  “I went with K.C. to Skinny's today so we could grab lunch and talk about the awful visitor we’d just had at the store."

  "Who?"

  I did a head slap. "Sam! She didn't say anything about lunch, or you. She said enough to piss me off and then left. I thought it meant at least she’d be out of my life for the next five minutes. Guess I was wrong."

  "But she told me you said you couldn't come."

  "Well, news flash, she lied."

  "Hey!"

  "I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so—mean. I'm just tired of her interrupting our lives."

  "Sorry, Q." He sounded empathetic.

  "No, it’s me. I'm the one acting like a jealous girlfriend."