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

by Annie Adams

  “What deputy do you know?” Mom asked.

  “Jed Frazier. You know, Annette. Bill’s son Jed, he used to deliver our paper.”

  “Oh, yes,” Mom said. “How is Jed? Is he married? He’s your same age Allie…”

  I coughed a couple times. “Ahem. You were saying something about Clint’s farm…”

  “Yes, yes, as I was saying, Jed told me what Clint had said. He told them all this after he regained consciousness.”

  A collective, “What?” sounded throughout the room.

  “One of his boys went looking for him when he saw the cows hadn’t had their afternoon milking. He was in his office on the ground, behind his desk. He’d been knocked on the head. Lucky he wasn’t killed.”

  “Who hit him?” Allie asked.

  “He doesn’t know. He was ambushed, but I bet we’re all thinking it was Jenny,” Dad said. Heads nodded in agreement.

  “Poor Clint,” K.C. said. “Here we were, thinking he was involved in the whole thing.”

  “We don’t know that he wasn’t,” I muttered.

  “Quinella McKay!” Mom’s mouth had zipped into a tight line and she looked at me with her patented angry expression.

  “What?” I said.

  “That man almost died. You shouldn’t be accusing him of things at a time like this.”

  “All I’m saying is that K.C. and I found that pond on his property. It was definitely being used to camouflage the polluting.”

  The discussion continued for a few minutes until we finished lunch and then it was back-to-work time. We had regular business to take care of as well as the wedding, and most of us worked until about eight o’clock that night.

  My parents offered to take me and Allie to dinner, but I told them I had some leftovers at home and that I was too tired to go out. The second part of that was true. We had an early start planned for the next day, only one day before the big event. The first part was not true, unless half a jar of pickles and a spoonful of ice cream count as leftovers.

  The truth was, I couldn’t handle being around them and their recently rekindled romance when mine had been put on pause. I just wished Alex was back. I wished he’d been there in that parking lot, waiting for me with open arms. We would have gone home and talked into the night about all that had happened in California and here in Hillside while he was away. But he wasn’t here and he hadn’t called me. I assured myself he would call as soon as he was able.

  I locked up after everyone and waited until all of them had left our parking lot before I hooked a right on Gentile Street and said, “Here’s looking at you, Jenny,” as I drove Zombie Sue straight to Bulgy Burger.

  “I’ll just have the regular,” I said to my nemesis on the other end of the speaker.

  I pulled up to the window with exact change in hand, gave it to him before he could say anything, and drove forward. I checked my bag to make sure the order was correct before I drove off. To my surprise a face was staring up at me. Two onion ring eyes, a tater tot nose and a curved French fry smile placed neatly on a folded up napkin. Under that was both fry sauce and ketchup.

  Maybe the Bulgy Burger guy wasn’t so bad after all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Tomorrow is the big day,” I said to K.C. as she stood in the back room tying her apron strings. “Don’t you have things to do today—for your wedding?”

  “Well, yes,” she said reluctantly. “It’s just that I want to help out. You’ve all done so much for me and my guy, and I…” she started to choke up and pulled a lace-edged handkerchief out of what she referred to as the real Bank of America. In other words, her bra.

  Allie came over and put her arm around K.C.’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh sweetie, I’m fantabulous. You really are the best group of folks. I just get all misty about weddings, and here it is, my own. I guess I’m just going to mist all day long and into tomorrow.”

  Daphne came over and handed a box of tissues to K.C. “You can’t be misty tomorrow. Your makeup will run.”

  K.C. smiled. “You’re right. I’m just going to have to toughen up, buttercup, so I don’t ruin the makeup job my granddaughter is going to do for me tomorrow.”

  “How are you going to wear your hair?” Allie said.

  K.C. reached up to the bandana she wore on her head with the knot tied on top, just like Rosie the Riveter. “I haven’t quite decided yet. I’ve got an appointment at the salon next door at noon. I hope I can make up my mind by then.”

  “Oh, before you leave, K.C., hint, hint,” I looked at her and blinked innocently, “I’ve got some news.”

  “Lay it on me,” K.C. said.

  “I got a call from Jacqueline this morning,” I said.

  “No!” K.C., Allie, and Daphne said in near unison.

  “She wanted to talk about the money she’s already paid me. I take it she found out about Bruce and Jenny being…together…a few times. I assume that’s why she said they won’t need to decorate Bruce’s condo anymore.”

  “But isn’t her money non-refundable by now? She signed a contract, right?” Allie said.

  “Officially, yes,” I said. “But, I realized a refund gets me away from a screwed up bunch of people that much faster. I told Jacqueline I would gladly refund the money, minus what I’ve already spent on supplies and items that are non-returnable to my suppliers. It actually feels like a burden’s been lifted.”

  “But what about your time, Boss? She sucked away hours of your time and you have nothing to show for it.”

  I sighed. “That’s all part of the floral business. Besides, I hope karma will smile favorably upon me. Jacqueline—despite her annoying manner—is in a big mess right now.”

  “Do you think she was involved in the polluting cover up, or Brock’s kidnapping?” Allie asked.

  “I don’t know. At this point she’s not in jail, so I don’t think she’s involved with the kidnapping. I think Jenny would have told the police anything she could to get back at her mother. But as far as investigations into Bruce’s company, I’m sure that will take a while. And,” I did a little dance, “I don’t care. Because I’m not involved with them anymore.”

  Daphne laughed at me and we all returned to work. Except for K.C. We finally convinced her to go so she could finish her errands, get her hair done, and get ready for the rehearsal dinner.

  ***

  With little stamina left at closing time, I looked over all the arrangements we’d produced. It was hard to believe everything was finished, but I checked things off the list for the final time and everything was there.

  I picked up the bridal bouquet I’d completed only a half hour before, and took it out of the cooler into better lighting to make sure everything still looked perfect. We’d chosen dramatic colors for the bouquet, to match K.C.’s personality. Billows of red garden roses and ranunculus were contrasted by orange pin-cushion protea. For whimsy, we added fern curls and chocolate cosmos, and then finished it off with a pop of vibrant green cymbidium orchids.

  I gazed at the bouquet for several moments then scanned over all the arrangements packed into our cooler and every other nook and cranny of available space in the store. To think this little shop had produced something so big was…inspiring. I finally felt just a tiny bit successful—at least for this one moment.

  I should already have been home getting ready for the rehearsal dinner, but I couldn’t help pausing and thinking about weddings as I held that bouquet. Would I ever get married again? I thought about it for a few moments, but I couldn’t quite form a clear picture in mind—at least, not yet. For now, I would watch K.C. walk the aisle from my vantage point up front, standing next to the other bridesmaids. I practiced “aisle walking” on the way to the cooler; first step forward, feet together, next foot forward, feet together. I glanced down at the bouquet balanced between both hands. The expression “Always a bridesmaid, never a bride,” popped into my mind. I couldn’t decide whether I relished or feared the idea.


  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Sunlight poured over the marsh on the wedding day. It was eleven in the morning and everyone was on site setting up the flowers and decorations. Thanks to Danny’s staff and Daphne and Allie’s friends, I didn’t have to worry about the floral installations at the visitor center or anywhere along the path at the marsh. Danny conducted the wedding rehearsal, and I took my place next to K.C.’s son, as directed, at the foot of the aisle leading to the archway where K.C. and Fred were to take their vows.

  I carried a bouquet of discarded flower stems I’d gathered from the trash pile on my way out of the visitor center where we would hold the reception later on. The real bouquets wouldn’t be used until the actual ceremony. The weather forecast called for all sunshine for the entire weekend, so the arch, chairs, and aisle runner had been set up outdoors for the ceremony.

  Everyone, except for Danny of course, wore jeans and t-shirts for the rehearsal. He wore khaki’s with a cornflower blue-checked button down shirt; his casual onsite work outfit. K.C. sported her electric blue cat-eye sunglasses, while her hair was wrapped in a scarf so no one, especially Fred, could see her hair color choice before the wedding. She said it was bad luck.

  After rehearsal, I helped put the finishing touches on all the décor and went to check on my mother, who was the designated supervisor of the small kitchen where the caterers would set up for the reception. I walked in and found her making out with my father, which was incredibly disturbing, yet surprisingly normal and right at the same time. I still broke a speed record exiting that little room.

  I helped Allie place the women’s flowers in the small classroom-turned-brides room, and took the men’s flowers to Danny, who would help pin them on lapels. The men’s dressing room was a utility shed that had been cleaned out of tools and other items for the wedding.

  “Well Eliza, did you bring the proper attire to compliment that beautiful gown you get to wear?” Danny asked.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”

  “If you’re wearing that abomination I saw you in at the police station, you’d better have it covered…for all our sakes.”

  “Very funny, friend. Is your kilt up to snuff? I can’t wait to see your shins reflecting the sun.”

  “Not a chance, my fair lady. I’m not wearing a kilt, just the men in the bridal party. I’ll be wearing Lauren. You better get going so you have time to get your hair done.”

  “Right.” I turned to leave then turned back. “Danny?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Thank you. For everything.”

  “You are so welcome. It’s always my pleasure.”

  We hugged and went our separate ways. My life was good. Good friends, a successful business, my parents back together, and Fred’s case solved. There was only one piece missing, but today wasn’t the day to focus on my absent boyfriend.

  I joined K.C. and the other bridesmaids in the dressing room. I’d brought the Iron Maiden and managed to get her fastened with some help from K.C.’s daughter. K.C. wore a hair dresser’s cape over her dress while she had her makeup done, and she’d revealed her hair, a lovely shade of auburn in a tame bouffant. She looked wonderful.

  “This is it, kiddo,” she said.

  “You look beautiful,” I said.

  “So do you, Boss. You’ll be a sight for sore eyes when that beau of yours lays his on you.”

  “Too bad he won’t get to see me in this dress. I don’t think I’ll be wearing it again in the near future.”

  She formed her mouth to say something but stopped and turned her head. “Do you hear that?”

  “Yes,” I said, “what is it?”

  “Grandma, it sounds like something is dying outside. Your wedding’s gonna be ruined,” her granddaughter said.

  “Nonsense, you two. That’s the sweetest sound I ever heard. The pipes are calling. It’s time to line up.”

  I’d momentarily forgotten K.C. had hired a bagpiper to play as people arrived and for the procession. She’d been serious about a themed wedding.

  I peeked out the window to watch the guests pass by on their way to the seating area around the corner. I caught a glimpse of my father, who wasn’t an official groomsmen, but being a proud Scot, wore his McKay tartan and full regalia. The man from the Booby lecture was there with a beautiful woman on his arm. Several people went by, then out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brock.

  I left my bouquet inside and snuck out to talk to him. “Brock,” I called out.

  He saw me and smiled. “Hey, Quincy! So good to see you.”

  “Where have you been? I’m so glad you’re here—and alive!”

  “Yeah, me too. It’s a long story, but I woke up in a dark room somewhere in Mexico.”

  “No, I meant really, where have you been?”

  “I’m not kidding. These guys conked me over the head when I went to talk to Gordon and Fred about how I’d been working with Clint Wheeler. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in some room in Tijuana. I snuck out and found the cops who took me to border patrol. It’s been a while, but I finally made it home. Anyway, I talked to Gordon yesterday and he told me about everything that happened to him and Fred and how you and Jenny—”

  I interrupted to save him the misery of explaining, “I’m so sorry about everything, Brock. I’m just happy you’re okay.”

  “Quincy, it’s time to start,” Danny called out from the doorway. “Places, everyone.”

  “I’ve got to run—hey, did you say you were working with Clint Wheeler?”

  “Yeah, Fred’s wife,” he nodded toward the flow of the crowd who were walking toward the seating, “I mean, almost wife, said you would be pretty excited to hear about Clint. He made a deal with some guys from the EPA that if he would give them proof like pictures and stuff, that Bruce’s company was polluting the marsh, he wouldn’t get fines and prison time for his retention pond. He also had to promise to clean it up. I was their messenger. Since I worked at the marsh every day, they thought it wouldn’t be suspicious that I would be hanging around Clint’s farm sometimes. He gave me copies of photos he took, since he didn’t know how to email them.”

  The envelope Harold had seen Clint passing to Brock had been full of photos, not money. I said a silent prayer for Harold and for Clint, who had killed Harold by accident.

  I promised to talk to Brock at the reception and hurried back into the building to take my place in line with the other women. My mind raced at all the information I’d just learned, but I had to clear it all out and focus. I was not going to be the person who tripped on the way up the aisle and ruined K.C.’s wedding extravaganza.

  “Now, just like we practiced, ladies,” Danny said. “I will give you the verbal cue, you will step out of these doors, and turn the corner to join your usher just behind the first set of chairs. Then you will take his arm and proceed down the aisle together. Please, don’t look like a robot when you step and put your feet together, just walk gracefully. Smile pleasantly and keep your elbows at your waist, cradling the bouquet just below, otherwise your flowers will make their way up to your chin. It’s all about composure.”

  I’d felt calm and collected until this point. What if I looked like a robot? What if I tripped? I waited my turn and began to sweat when the girl in front of me was sent through. What if I got sweat stains on my gown? I’d made fun of my mom when she told me to buy dress shields, as if they were some kind of antiquated feminine hygiene product, and now I was wishing I’d heeded her advice. Focus, Quincy! Arms on hips, arms on hips.

  I stepped up to the designated spot, next to Danny.

  “It’s go time, Eliza D.,” Danny said.

  “Why am I so nervous?” I said.

  “It’s a wedding. You’re supposed to be. Don’t forget to smile.”

  Well that didn’t make any sense. But it was time. I stepped outside and rounded the corner. I looked at my feet to make sure I didn’t catch a heel and go tumbling over. I watched my feet all the way until I saw a poli
shed pair of men’s shoes. I held out my arm and when K.C.’s son took it I remembered I was supposed to look up and smile. I looked up and smiled…at Alex…who smiled back at me.

  My heart pounded so fast and hard, I was sure the wedding guests could see it beating. We couldn’t speak to each other, we were doing the wedding march! I looked out at the guests, so that I couldn’t stare into Alex’s beautiful brown eyes with the cute crinkles around the edges. I saw my mother, dabbing at tears, my father on her left, and my sisters and brother-in-law on her right.

  Gordon Hawkes and his wife were there and the man who’d lectured about the birds, Jack Conway, sat next to him. Both men had given toasts to the memory of Harold Busby at the rehearsal dinner.

  We were halfway down the aisle. It was excruciating being this close to Alex and not being able to even look at him. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t see much, but I could tell he was grinning.

  I surveyed the crowd on Alex’s side and saw Elma with her dad, Skinny. I caught her puckering her hot pink lips and waggling her penciled-in eyebrows at Alex. She’d never quit trying.

  We reached the top of the aisle and I had to go stand with the other women. I watched him walk away to take his place on the groom’s side. His kilt swished back and forth as he walked.

  The wedding procession continued and finally, K.C. entered the stage. She looked radiant as the bagpipes played the wedding march and she walked down the aisle. Fred looked close to passing out, but also incredibly happy.

  Danny dabbed at his eyes throughout the entire ceremony, along with most of the other guests. Just as the officiant told Fred he could kiss the bride, a loud flapping noise started up from the marsh behind us. As if on cue, a giant white bird the size of a crane took off into the air and circled above the archway then flew away to the south.

  “It’s the Booby,” Jack Conway cried out. “It really does exist!”