Garden of Death

by Chrystle Fiedler

Kylie looked at me suspiciously. “You think she had motive to kill him?”

  “I have no idea,” I said honestly. “I’d just like to ask her about Dr. White. It might lead to something.”

  Kylie thought it over. “I’d have to check with her first before giving out her name.”

  “I understand,” I said. “But if you think of anything else please call me.” I pulled a business card out of my wallet and handed it to her.

  After she left, Simon said, “Why didn’t you push her for her friend’s name? Pain can make people do desperate things. She could be the one who killed White.”

  “I know that, but if I pushed Kylie too hard, she would have clammed up completely. Now, I can gently ask her again. Or find out some other way.”

  “Okay, Nancy Drew, if you think so.”

  The contest over, volunteers began setting up for the Maritime Festival auction. I used the time to quickly text Jackson and tell him what we were doing. He didn’t reply but showed up just before the auction started at six. We told him what had happened and what Kylie had said.

  “I hate to say it, but Simon’s right. You could have pressed her for the name.”

  “My gut said no,” I explained. “But I’ll get the name. Don’t worry. By the way, what did you make of those photos of that painting? It snagged third place.” I pulled out my phone, scrolled to the photos of the cigar-store painting, and showed it to Jackson again. “Did you notice anything unusual?”

  He shook his head. “No, but I’ve heard that there’s a men’s club on the second floor made up of local businessmen, the mayor, and the Village Board. Sounds cozy.”

  I had hoped that Jackson might have spotted something in the painting that I had missed. Obviously, I would have to do some digging. “Is everything okay at the store? What about Koren and Coyle? Are they still there?”

  “Not too many customers in the store. Unfortunately, our friends are still in the garden.”

  “As long as they’re gone by morning,” I said. “Is the booth still busy?”

  He nodded. “You’re almost sold out. Nate’s handling it. He told me that you made about twelve hundred bucks today. That’s good news at least, right?”

  I blew out a breath. “It sure is.”

  Maggie, from the dog park, took the stage, announced that the auction was starting, and that all proceeds would go to benefit the animal shelter in Southold. I spotted Joe Larson on the opposite side of the crowd. “Larson is over there.” I nodded in his direction. “Let’s see what happens.”

  • • •

  Half an hour later, Maggie began the auction on the ugly cigar-store painting. Joe Larson found himself bidding against two other people, but when the price reached $250, they dropped out and he won the painting easily.

  He paid for it and quickly hustled it away before we could talk to him. We watched as he climbed into a silver Mercedes and drove off.

  We crossed the street and headed back to Nature’s Way to get ready for the Green Light shoppers. But before we went inside, we went to the garden to see what was going on. The ribbon from the opening had been replaced by yellow crime-scene tape and an officer stood sentry.

  “Is Detective Koren here?” I asked him.

  The officer, who had beads of sweat running down his face, gave me a grim look and said, “He left. What do you want?”

  “I’m Willow McQuade, the owner of this garden and of Nature’s Way and I wanted to see—”

  He stopped me before I could finish. “You can’t come in here.”

  I reminded myself to breathe, and said, “Will Detective Koren be back?”

  “Don’t know. You better move along. This is still an active crime scene.”

  “But the mayor said it would be open by tomorrow morning.”

  “It’ll take as long as it takes, miss.”

  “But he told us that it would be done by then, and if he thinks—” Jackson took me by the arm and led me away before I could finish. This was good judgment on his part, as I was quickly becoming frustrated. “Koren had better keep his word. We’ve worked so hard, and I’ve got tours of the garden booked all weekend.”

  “Don’t panic yet. Let’s go upstairs and see what’s going on.”

  We went to my bedroom, and while Jackson played with the dogs, I grabbed the binoculars, went out on the balcony, and trained them on the site of the murder. There, a group of crime-scene techs were working the area. The body of Dr. White had been removed.

  “Techs are still working, body is gone, and no Koren in sight,” I reported. “Do you think he’s coming back?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know that?” I kept the binoculars trained on the scene.

  “Because it’s dinnertime and he probably just went to grab something. Believe me, he’ll be back. This is a big deal.” The two doxies, Rockford and Columbo, were now on their backs side by side as Jackson scratched their bellies.

  I watched as the techs examined the south end of the garden. I hoped they were being careful around the plants, but I knew that wasn’t their top priority.

  As I trained the binoculars on the path, Koren and Coyle came into view. Both of them were carrying cups of coffee and brown bags; dinner, no doubt. Koren had his phone pressed to his ear, a stressed look on his face.

  “You were right. Koren and Coyle are back.”

  “I won’t say I told you so.” Jackson got up, took the binoculars, and trained them on the cardiac section. “But Koren doesn’t look happy.”

  “No, he doesn’t. He must be under a lot of pressure from the mayor and the festival organizers to solve this quickly. I hope that he doesn’t zero in on you.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  chapter seven

  Willow McQuade’s

  Favorite Medicinal Plants

  CALENDULA:

  Botanical name: Calendula officinalis

  Medicinal uses: Calendula is a hardy, long-blooming plant with radiant yellow flowers that will brighten your garden. But there’s more. Calendula also has amazing healing properties. Antiseptic and anti-

  inflammatory, this flower helps to promote cell repair and growth. You’ll find calendula in many items at your health food store such as lotions, salves, and creams that treat everything from cuts and scrapes to insect bites, varicose veins, and athlete’s foot. Calendula also is a nourishing and cleansing tonic for the lymphatic system, which helps to improve immunity. It also aids digestion, helps to ease throat infections, and is used in children’s ear drops. Inside the body and on the skin, this is a helpful herb that speeds healing and improves health.

  Since we were all working late, I closed the store for an hour so we could eat together. After we were finished, we worked on getting Nature’s Way ready for the Green Light tour and the workshop on how to plant a healing garden. This involved moving the tables in the dining area and putting out delectable gluten-free chocolate cake and organic lemonade. But now it was past eight and no one had shown up.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” I said to Jackson. “When we sold out today in the booth, I figured that we would be busy tonight.”

  “But things were slow in here today, Willow,” Merrily said. “I think we only had three or four tables. They’re all out there eating clam chowder and pizza and hot dogs.”

  “Plus, Peter Tork, you know, from the Monkees, is giving a concert on the green,” Wallace said.

  I looked around the empty store. “Well, nothing is happening here, so if you want to go to the concert, you can,” I said. “Have fun. You worked hard today.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, go. Merrily, you can go, too. Check out the concert and enjoy the rest of the festival.”

  “Great, thanks. Now I can go meet Nate,” Merrily said, and grabbed her purse from under the counter. “I’ll co
me in early to clean this up. Hopefully the cops will be gone by then, and you can start giving tours of your garden again.” She came over and gave me a hug.

  “I hope so. Thanks, Merrily.”

  Simon went over to the cake table. He ran every morning, which is why he could eat whatever he wanted, and he took full advantage of this fact. “Since the party isn’t happening, I think I’ll get a cup of coffee and a piece of that cake to go, if that’s all right. I’m going to go home and try to write. The caffeine will help keep me awake.”

  “Enjoy,” I said. “I hope the writing goes well. As for this workshop, I’ll just have to reschedule for another night.”

  Jackson squeezed my hand and gave me a sympathetic look. “It’s not your fault. When things like this happen, people stay away. It’s not like with Claire when there was some question about how she died. It’s obvious that the man was murdered. Someone knocked him on the head, in broad daylight in Greenport, during the Maritime Festival, when fifty thousand-plus people are in town. Word spreads fast.”

  • • •

  I brought in the green lantern, closed up Nature’s Way, and we went for an evening stroll with the dogs. The band was tuning up on the stage in the park, and the audience was finding seats on beach chairs and blankets on the circle of grass that faced them.

  The sunny day had cooled into night and a fresh, salty breeze drifted from the bay across the green. It was almost cool, and I was glad that I had brought along a light sweater.

  We headed north on Main Street to do our window shopping, since that’s where most of the art galleries and boutiques were. We followed the green lanterns to the end of the block, taking in paintings, sculptures, drawings, mosaics, and stained glass. There were still plenty of tourists and locals crowding the streets. I thought I knew why they had stayed away from my store, and it didn’t feel good.

  When we walked up to the Tolle Gallery, we found Harold and Maggie inside, talking to Rhonda Rhodes and her partner, Ramona Meadows. The two women were in their early fifties and recently retired from practicing law in the city. For phase two of their lives, they dreamed of opening a retail garden center and had also applied for the lot. Right now, there was only one place in town to buy flowers, a small florist’s shop that sold exotic flowers. Things were okay between us but I knew that they, too, were disappointed about not getting the space.

  Ramona spotted me, excused herself, and came to the door. A pretty redhead, she wore a shift dress with a flower pattern and orange Crocs, the shoe of choice on the East End in the summer. “I heard about what happened on your garden tour. Wow, are you two okay?” She leaned down and began to pet the three dogs.

  “I think so,” I said. “But it was a terrible thing to find. I just feel bad for Dr. White’s family.”

  “I feel sorry for his son,” Ramona said. “He’s in his twenties, teaches at City College, and he’s a decent guy. But White and his wife were on the verge of divorce. She might not be all that broken up about it.”

  “I didn’t know that.” I couldn’t help wondering if maybe his wife was the one who wanted White dead. If money was the issue, would she get a better settlement as a widow than as a divorcée?

  “What about your garden tours?” Ramona asked. “Is that all off now? That would be a shame.”

  Rhonda, trim, with short, cropped strawberry-blond hair, and also wearing a shift, came to the door. “Ramona, who are you talking to? I want to show you something.” She saw us, and said, “Oh, it’s you.”

  “I’ll be in soon.” Ramona watched her go then said, “Don’t mind her. She just really wanted to build that garden center.”

  “I’m sure you can find a spot that’s just as good,” Jackson said.

  “You’d think so, Jackson, but it’s not that easy with the zoning laws. And not everyone wants a garden center with all of that traffic as a neighbor. You got lucky, Willow. I hope you appreciate that.”

  “With everything that’s happened, I don’t feel very lucky right now,” I admitted. “But I know what you mean. So what are you going to do?”

  “For the time being, we’re leasing land from the Coventry Cooperative in Southold, and selling our veggies at the farmer’s market with Kylie Ramsey. She’s done an amazing job with the market, and we do really well there. You should come by. We’ve got some great stuff you could sell at the store, unusual organic produce, like celtuce.”

  Jackson grinned. “Is that a cross between celery and lettuce?”

  “You sound skeptical,” Ramona said, smiling. “You should try it.”

  “I will,” I said. “You sell wholesale, right?”

  Ramona nodded. “Sure. Why don’t you come by tomorrow? We’ve got a lot of produce that might do well in Nature’s Way.”

  “Sorry, tomorrow won’t work,” I said. “We’re going to be fixing the damage to the garden from today.”

  “All those cops trampling your plants,” Ramona said sympathetically. She glanced inside the gallery, and Rhonda waved her over. “Well, I’d better go. Maybe we’ll see you at the market?”

  “I’ll do my best.” As she walked away, I said, “Well, Ramona seems pretty reasonable about everything,

  but did Rhonda seem pissed off at me—or was I imagining it?”

  “Rhonda didn’t actually say much,” Jackson reminded me. “Still, I’d say she and Ramona obviously wanted the lot very badly. So I don’t know if they’d do anything actively hostile, but right now, I wouldn’t consider them friends. Rhonda may be yet another sore loser. Greenport seems to be full of them.”

  “Let’s go home,” I said, suddenly exhausted. I hated thinking that half the people in town were potential enemies. I started walking back down Main Street, but stopped as Qigong sniffed the grass around a telephone pole. Columbo and Rockford quickly joined in.

  Jackson took my hand. “When we get home, I’ll draw you a nice, hot bath. You can put your aromatherapy stuff in it—lavender or whatever—and you’ll feel better.”

  “That sounds comforting, which is just what I need. Thanks, Jackson.”

  We continued past the two-story white building that housed the East End Historical Society, and the Arcade department store parking lot. I loved Greenport, but the town was becoming an increasingly uncomfortable place to live. “All I can think is that getting the lot has caused nothing but trouble,” I said. “White is dead, business is off, everyone is upset, and no one likes me. Worst of all, you may be a suspect in his death. I think I may have made a mistake in going after the lot.”

  Jackson gave me a swift, sweet kiss. “Don’t even waste your time thinking that way, because there’s nothing you can do about it now.”

  I shook my head, wondering if I would ever be able to feel good about the garden again. “You’re right about that.”

  • • •

  When we got home, the police were still working in the garden. Thanks to the big klieg lights, we could still watch most of what was happening with the binoculars. They had moved out from the area where White’s body was found and were now searching other sections. I wondered if they had found anything so far, and if so—what?

  I decided to take Jackson’s advice and take a hot bath. I added my favorite organic lavender and lemon balm bath salts and settled in for a nice, long soak.

  A little while later, Jackson came in, got undressed, and slipped into the oversized tub. We kissed, hungry for each other, perhaps even more so now, since so much had changed in the past twenty-four hours. But making love in a tub isn’t easy, so we soon switched to shower mode. Afterward, feeling clean and satisfied, we got dressed, me in my T-shirt and undies, him in his sweats, no shirt.

  Our evening routine was to read before we went to sleep while the dogs and cats snoozed next to us, and tonight was no different. I settled into bed and picked up my copy of Agatha Christie’s classic mystery Body in the Library, while J
ackson grabbed Michael Connelly’s latest. I felt safe and secure, and pushed out of my mind any thought of tomorrow.

  We stayed like that for about an hour, after which Jackson closed his book, took mine, and put them on the nightstand. “I want to tell you something.” He pulled me close and I snuggled into his body and his warmth.

  “What is it?” I asked warily. “I really don’t want to think about tomorrow.”

  “I know, but I have to say it. I agreed to rigorous honesty in AA, and I abide by it.”

  I nodded, understanding.

  “It isn’t like you to have second thoughts,” Jackson began. “Not when you were so sure about your decision to apply for the lot and all the work that you did to get it. Even though some bad things have happened, it doesn’t mean that you were wrong or that you made a mistake.” He gave me a gentle kiss. “Try to separate yourself from what’s happening and what people say, and listen to yourself. You created this garden—”

  “With your help, and Nate’s.”

  “We helped, yes, but you’ve been the driving force all along. This was your idea, your baby. You can’t turn away from it now.”

  “I know,” I said, and kissed him back. I did know he was right, but I felt so weary. As if this wonderful idea of mine had turned into a hike up the Himalayas, instead of a walk in the park.

  Ginger woke up, stretched, and changed position, right above Jackson’s head, and began to purr loudly. He gently picked her up and put her back on the foot of the bed, and snuggled next to me again.

  “I wonder what Aunt Claire would say about all this if she were still here. Would she have applied for the lot, like I did?”

  “Definitely, Claire was a sharp businesswoman, I guarantee that she would not have ignored this opportunity, even if it meant ruffling some village feathers. You were meant to do this, Willow. It’s going to work out. Trust me.”

  chapter eight

  Willow McQuade’s

  Favorite Medicinal Plants

  CHAMOMILE

  Botanical name: Chamaemelum nobile (Roman chamomile, syn. Anthemis nobilis), Matricaria recutita (German chamomile, formerly Chamomilla recutita, syn. M. chamomilla)