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

by Annie Adams

  I had to suppress the giggles as we continued walking down the path. Mom stopped and glanced around. "Where are they? It’s going to be dark before we know it.”

  I craned my neck, stretching to see past the plants blocking our view. And then I heard something. It was Danny’s high pitched laugh. The voice seemed to travel. “I hear Danny. I’ll go catch up to them before they move too far.” I ran in the direction of the voice and then I heard another. It had to be them. We’d probably just been walking in circles, looking for each other.

  I reached another branching off of the boardwalk where I thought their voices had come from and stopped to listen. Nobody there. All that running for nothing.

  The voices started up again, and I remembered how the wind distorted the sound of the birds calling to each other. The birds had fooled me again. I turned to see if my mother had reached me yet, but she was nowhere near. The wind stopped, replaced by stark silence. I called out for my mom. She couldn't be that far away. I listened and again—there was nothing.

  "Mom! Can you hear me?"

  Nothing.

  Maybe I’d gone further than I realized. Or maybe she couldn’t hear me because the plants were too dense. I retreated back to the place where I’d left her. She was gone. I let out a groan of frustration. We were like clowns, running circles around the tiny car at the circus. That thought made me think of the clown dolls at Kyle Mangum’s house and I glanced around, feeling the gaze of thousands of painted clown eyes peering through the cattails, just like in a scene from Circus Tent of Horrors.

  I continued down the path my mother must have taken with a quicker pace to my step. This non-meeting had been a complete waste of time. I grumbled to myself, angry that Danny and K.C. had completely changed the plan without letting anyone else know.

  As I walked, the boardwalk widened and the plants thinned out. I could see the top half of the observation tower ahead. On this loop of walkway was a circular group of signs on wooden legs, topped with miniature shingled roofs. The roofs kept the weather off the information posters, which displayed pictures of the bird species common to the marsh on one side and pictures of native plants on the other.

  There were eight signs, all arranged at different angles, each one taller than me. It looked like Stonehenge, but with wooden signs instead of rocks. The corner of the sign nearest the boardwalk caught my eye. The threads of some leftover tie-down from a long-gone sign or poster twitched in the breeze. I grumbled to myself some more. Different groups used the boardwalk system at the marsh for various events, like trail-runs or educational field trips. I could understand the need to tie up a poster, or mark the path of a race, but I didn’t understand why they couldn’t clean up after themselves when they were finished.

  I set my gaze on the tower but something stuck in my mind. I turned back to take another look. It was blue satin fabric. But it wasn't just any kind of blue. It was a kind of blue that only someone who had spent hours trying to find that specific color in ribbon and table and chair coverings would know. It was Nile blue fabric. Fabric that had been torn into strips and tied to the sign. The edges were frayed and slightly faded.

  I hurried to the steps of the tower. It was still there. The sign post at the base of the tower was tied with a Nile blue piece of fabric, which danced on the breeze.

  I’d seen this fabric when Alex and I had found Fred and Gordon lying unconscious inside the structure. It hadn’t occurred to me then that I recognized the specific color.

  I got a sick feeling. I had to find my mother. I ran down the path I’d just come from.

  Waist-level information signs dotted the entire boardwalk trail system. The section I was on today had a Nile blue scrap tied to every third sign post. I hadn’t seen the fabric when I was here with Alex because I’d taken a different path. I made the loop clear back to the “V” where Mom and I had separated. I stopped to catch my breath.

  Hopefully my mother had already found K.C. and Danny. I would use one of their phones to call the sheriff’s office, and tell them who had really assaulted Fred and Gordon. Jacqueline was the only person who would have extra Nile blue cloth sitting around. She must have marked the path for the kidnappers.

  Shadows were forming in the early twilight. I began to run again. I reached the point where I had fallen through the boards and noticed they’d been repaired. The horrible image of Harold Busby’s bloated body flashed through my mind. I moved past that spot as quickly as I could manage.

  The marsh boardwalks covered over a mile of walking distance, and I wasn’t in the right kind of shape to keep up a running pace. So, once I’d put some distance between me and the spot that held such awful memories, I slowed down while my heart pounded. None of the signs I’d just passed had cloth markers on them.

  It had saddened and surprised me to think that Brock staged his kidnapping. I’d completely misread his character. Now it appeared that his mother-in-law was in on it too. Jenny thought Brock was trying to get away from Jacqueline, but it looked as if he’d wanted an out from his impending marriage to her.

  The trail of ribbon led directly to the tower. I knew that Jacqueline had miles of that fabric to use up, but how could anyone be stupid enough to use such a specific and recognizable cloth creating a literal trail of evidence? Maybe Brock had found her cache of Nile blue yardage and figured he would save a buck by not having to buy any twine for the markers he set for his “kidnappers.” Either way, poor Jenny seemed to be surrounded by idiots.

  I walked as fast as I could, but the stitch in my side slowed me down. I tried to link all the parts together. Thanks to Fred, I knew that Brock had been taking bribes from Clint Wheeler to look the other way about the polluting. When Gordon had called Brock for a meeting, Brock must have guessed that Harold Busby had told on him. I knew something was odd when Jacqueline stated with certainty the wedding wouldn’t happen, and now it seemed obvious she’d had first-hand knowledge.

  There was something else. Bruce’s company did metal fabrication. I’d found out earlier on my Internet search that many of those types of companies had been charged with violating the Clean Water Act by dumping their by-products in protected waterways. Allmecore had been cited in several states. I didn’t find anything for Utah, but “Birds of a feather…” as they say. Birds like Brock, Jacqueline, Bruce, and Clint were polluting the marsh, and they had to stop whoever threatened to reveal their “dirty” little secret. If found out, they would all go to prison.

  It was getting harder to see the outlines of the boards under my feet. The cattails and foliage which towered above made it appear even darker than it already was. I decided I’d just go back to the car where my Mother was probably waiting for me, just like when I was a kid. We’d always had the rule that if we got separated at the grocery store or the mall, we were to go back to the car and meet each other there. It would be faster to back-track than to continue on the longer loop I was currently on. My mother had probably been waiting at the car for a long time, tapping her toe alongside K.C. and Danny.

  I reversed direction and ran. I neared the tower once again, but I couldn’t continue on to the parking lot—my lungs burned. I stopped at the foot of the tower steps to catch my breath and smelled a familiar scent.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Jacqueline?” I called out.

  No answer.

  “Jackie?”

  I heard a thumping sound coming from the center core of the tower. I moved closer and the sound grew louder, accompanied by a muffled voice. I walked onto the ramp that led to the lower level of the tower. The voice came from a utility closet in the center column of the structure. It was a very familiar voice.

  “Mom?” I yelled at the door.

  “Quincy! Don’t—”

  Jacqueline’s perfume overwhelmed me and I got light-headed. I felt a thump on the bottom edge of my shoulder blade.

  “Ow!” I said.

  I turned, anticipating looking into shark-black eyes. Instead I had to look down to see
Jenny.

  “Jenny? Where’s your moth—wait…why did you hit me? That kinda hurt. And why would you hit me there?”

  “You’re so stinking tall. I missed. So shoot me. Oh, how funny. I just made a pun.” She held a gun up and wiggled it at me. “See? I’m the only one who can shoot right now.”

  “What do you need a gun for? What’s going on? Why is my mom locked in the closet? And why do you—reek?” I couldn’t hold back the gagging. Jenny literally must have bathed in the stuff.

  “You like it? Yeah, me neither. The only person in this world who would wear this stuff is my mother.”

  “Then why are you wearing it?” I asked.

  “Well, duh. If the only person who would ever wear this is my mother, then that’s who you would suspect of locking you in the closet.”

  “But…you didn’t…lock me in this closet,” I said confused.

  Jenny let out a short sigh. “Things didn’t go as planned this time.”

  “This time?” I put my hands on my hips. “What other…” I sucked in an audible breath, which was a big mistake considering the perfume. “You dumped a bin fill of cow manure on me and K.C., didn’t you? Why?”

  “Hands up!” she said, pointing the gun at my chest. “I thought it would get rid of you.”

  Despite the dangerous position I was in, I couldn’t help rolling my eyes at the cliché. She was holding a gun though, so I couldn’t get too snippy with her. I’d gotten a “little-sister” vibe from her when we would meet for consultations and I thought I’d try to take advantage of that until I came up with a way out of the situation. I’d always felt like Jenny followed my lead and did everything I told her to when it came to wedding planning.

  “What—you were going to kill me with stink? Your mom’s perfume is more likely to do that. Why would you want to get rid of me, anyway? I’ve been your ally this whole time. When your mom was throwing her fits, who was the one to side with you?”

  She set her jaw and I thought maybe I was reaching her.

  “I just—I was following you at the farm and I didn’t know what else to do. Clint leaves the keys in all the tractors, and that one had a load ready to go. You would’ve called the cops and I just needed to stop you somehow. You and your driver lady didn’t move after I dumped it so I figured maybe it killed you.”

  “Then why did you come into my shop later to see me, if you thought I was dead?”

  “I saw you drive past in the blue car.”

  The drive of shame. I closed my eyes and groaned. “Oh no, you didn’t tell my mother did you?”

  “What did you say, Quincy?” my mom asked from behind the door.

  “Nothing,” I yelled through the door. “How much did you see?” I whispered.

  “A lot.” She did an exaggerated shudder.

  Everyone’s a comedian.

  “Really—what did you need to stop me from doing?”

  She shrugged, casually. “From telling someone about the Phragmites and the ponds.”

  I decided to play dumb. “What about the Phragmites? What do they have to do with anything?”

  Jenny let out a huge sigh. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Bruce told me all I had to do was get him those plants and I would get the money.” She looked down for a moment but then snapped her eyes up at me and repositioned her gun. “Nobody knows what those Phragmites are. Everybody just thinks they’re weeds out in the marsh. Except for you.”

  “I didn’t know what they were until you told me,” I said, shrugging.

  She made a sputtering sound with her lips. “Yeah I got carried away. I’d actually found someone who thought I might know what I’m talking about and it went to my head. But I didn’t think you’d go snooping around looking for proof to share with the police…or my mother.”

  “But I didn’t. I had no idea those plants were illegal…” Oops. “I mean, I didn’t know until recently. When you dumped the manure on us, we were just going to visit Clint about cutting some more of them.”

  “You’re lying. I followed you that day. I saw you go over to the retention pond. You didn’t even look for Clint. He was in the house. You’re not a very good liar. And you eat at Bulgy Burger too much, by the way.”

  Geez, she really had been following me.

  Her mouth twitched and she grimaced. She rolled her shoulders as if she was trying to loosen them up. I hoped she was getting uncomfortable holding her arms up to point the gun at me. If I kept her talking she might wear out.

  “You know,” she said, “I would be long gone, out of the country by now if you hadn’t complicated everything.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “I didn’t know you and Brock planned to move out of the country.”

  “We weren’t moving. Just me. Not Brock, not Bruce, and especially not my mother.” Her voice cracked and her eyes glossed. “For once in my life, I could make my own decisions and live how I wanted to.”

  “So you didn’t really want to get married?” I asked.

  “It’s complicated. Besides, it’s none of your business”. She laughed under her breath and shook her head. “You’ve been involved in every single aspect of my life since we first came to you to do wedding flowers. How is that possible? First with Brock and the kidnapping, then after I find the most perfect, obscure plant that nobody in the freaking world knows about.” She gestured with both hands, waving the gun in front of my face, “You’ve got it on display in your shop, taunting me with it.”

  “I cut those plants from the ditch banks,” I said. “I didn’t know they were anything special. And I didn’t look them up on the computer until you told me what they really were.” My arms were getting tired. I let them drop a few inches. “If it’s any consolation, I really did think your mom imported the Phragmites, being such a fan of Egypt and all.”

  “Hands up!” She sharpened her stance. “What am I going to do with you?” She glanced around, as if weighing different options. I tried to think of anything to distract her.

  “Isn’t it going to be expensive to move out of the country? I guess you must have a job lined up somewhere.” Okay, it wasn’t the best distraction, but I was under duress.

  “Phht, I’m not worried about that. Bruce is taking care of me.” The thought of what that little tidbit meant was nauseating and confusing.

  “Um…I thought…well…does Brock know about you and…Bruce?” Another visual to add to the nightmare collection popped into my head.

  “Like I said, it’s complicated.” She sighed and backed up a step. She took a deep breath. “When I got my job with the BLM, Bruce approached me about helping him find some plants to hide the pollution in the holding ponds that his company uses to dump their bi-products. I told him I could go to federal prison if I was caught, but then he told me how much he would pay. It was almost enough to buy me a new life somewhere. When I found the Egyptian Phragmites, I knew it was perfect. I could protect myself by making it look like my mother, with her stupid fascination with Egypt, had ordered the plants. And I would be that much closer to getting the hell away from her and her control for good.”

  She screwed up her mouth and looked at me as if she was deciding whether to tell me anything more. “Man, this feels good! Thanks for listening.”

  “I kinda have to…you know with the gun and all.”

  “Oh, yeah. Well, anyways, I knew I needed more of an insurance policy if I was going to take on the risk of getting caught. So I fooled around with Bruce a few times while my mom was away on one of her trips. No big deal.”

  Eeuww.

  “So now, I have bargaining power. If Bruce decides to tell on me for any reason, I can remind him that I can tell my mother that he cheated on her. And I’m screwing my mother in the process. Now there’s a pun for you.” She looked upward and made a face. “For some reason he doesn’t think he could live without her. Maybe it’s her trust fund—which she doesn’t share with me, by the way.”

  I interrupted her rant. “What about Brock?
Why would you even get engaged if you and Bruce were…?”

  The wild spark that had lit her eyes throughout her confession disappeared. “That was…unexpected. I didn’t plan on Brock.”

  “Did Brock know about your—agreement with Bruce?”

  “You mean, did he know we had slept together? No!” She said it as if I was the crazy one.

  “I meant—the money—the Phragmites and the retention ponds.”

  She bit her bottom lip and frowned. “Brock didn’t know what I had done. I overheard him talking about meeting with his boss about something and I just knew it was Clint’s pond. So I had to tell Bruce.”

  “Jenny. You have to tell me something. You don’t need the gun. I’m not going to run off. Let’s go sit on that bench over there.”

  She stared at me for a moment, then nodded and waved me in front of her with the gun. I sat down and waited for her to do the same. She eventually did and held the gun down to her side.

  “Brock didn’t call you, did he?”

  She let out a heavy sigh, “No.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “No. I told Bruce about Brock’s meeting here at the tower, and he said he would take care of it. He sent some guys and that’s all I know.” Her voice carried a hint of sadness.

  “So…you don’t know what the meeting was really about?”

  She stared at me for a moment with pursed lips then slowly shook her head.

  “Aren’t you worried about him? Did they hurt him, like they did Fred and Gordon?”

  “I don’t know.” She finally sounded like the same Jenny I thought I had known before. “I worry about him every day. I think he’s alive.” I heard a sniffle and looked at her more closely. Was that a tear I saw leaking out of the corner of her eye?

  “Why did you come in and make up the whole thing about him faking the kidnapping?’

  She put a hand to her forehead then ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. I just thought it would make you stop trying to find things out. I just want everything to stop.”