The Final Arrangement

by Annie Adams

  We both tried to run while crouching down and covering our heads with our hands. We were two chickens flapping our wings up around our beaks as we ran toward the building.

  We ran all the way to the design room in the middle of the store before we stopped. We both breathed as if we’d run the 100-meter dash.

  “Someone was shooting at us!” I exclaimed. “There is no way that two cars back-fired in a row out there! Who would be shooting—why would anyone shoot at us?” I looked at Keith in disbelief.

  “Okay—” he breathed for a few beats “lets—just—listen for—a few minutes,” he said between breaths.

  We paused in silence. Nothing happened. Not a sound.

  “Should I call the police?” I asked.

  “Yes!”

  The thought of having to call the police again caused a new, different type of anxiety. Despite, and in addition to, all the mental and physical discomfort caused by the knowledge that someone had been shooting at me, I felt something in my chest drop and travel down my esophagus into my stomach.

  I called 911 this time. Being shot at seemed like enough of an emergency to use the service. I used the portable phone and stayed on line with the operator while Keith and I made our way to the rear door. We stood on either side of the clear glass in the top third of the door, taking turns peeking outside to see if anything was happening out there. I peeked and could just make out the nose of a navy and white cruiser as it pulled up.

  “It looks like the police are here,” I said to the operator and then hung up with her permission.

  Alex had arrived within minutes. Of course it had to be Alex Cooper. Didn’t they have any other cops in this city?

  “What’s going on?”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin. Cindy stood a foot behind me. I don’t know where she was during the melee. I felt a little guilty for not searching her out when we ran in. Keith regarded Cindy with a murderous glare.

  “I’ll explain later Cindy. Go to the front of the store, lock the door and wait up there in a safe place until I tell you to come out.”

  She looked at me like I was deranged then shrugged her shoulders and returned to the front of the store.

  I returned to my post with Keith. We watched as Alex approached the back door nonchalantly. I opened the door for him. “Now someone is shooting at us!” I said as he passed the threshold.

  “Hello, Miss McKay.” His appellation was delivered with frost.

  He turned to Keith and asked him to recount what had happened.

  After Keith finished his version, Alex turned to me and said, “There’s something you need to see outside.” The corner of his mouth turned up and betrayed the serious cop exterior he was trying to maintain.

  “I don’t want to go back out there.”

  “Well I know you don’t want a big, overbearing man to tell you what to do, but as the only member of the police force in the room, I’m going to have to require you to come outside.”

  I glared at Alex and extended my palm indicating he could lead the way. I looked over at Keith.

  “I guess you two know each other.” Keith said.

  “Unfortunately we’ve met a few too many times lately.” The tone in my voice must have told Keith he didn’t want to ask any more.

  We followed Alex as he practically skipped over to Keith’s van.

  “So you were both standing here behind the van like this, right?” He mimicked looking over the flowers and pointed to a particular bunch of celosia and mimed being overwhelmed by its beauty. He placed one hand over his heart and looked skyward.

  “Cute.” I said.

  “Now if you’ll just follow me I will show both of you the perpetrator of this horrific crime.”

  Alex walked around the opened doors of Keith’s van and led us to my van, which Nick had parked earlier before he left for the day.

  “Oh man,” Keith muttered as we approached.

  The van looked funny. Not funny comical, funny odd. After a long perusal, I realized the passenger side of the van rested lower than the other side. My van was lopsided because both of the tires on the passenger side were completely flat.

  “Here’s your sniper,” Alex said as he tried and failed to suppress the gleeful “I told you so,” that I’m sure rested on the tip of his tongue.

  “Oh geez,” Keith said. “I don’t believe this. I almost had a coronary because of a blown-out tire?”

  “Two blown out tires,” Alex reminded as he held up two fingers like a peace sign.

  “What are the chances of two tires blowing out within a minute of each other?” Keith wondered out loud.

  “I’ve never heard of it happening before,” Alex said. “Who was the last person to drive the van, Quincy? It wouldn’t have been—Nick would it?”

  “Nick!” I yelled. “That little jerk! What did he do to my van?”

  “Well, I’m not going to be any help here, and I’m way behind on the route. Do you mind if I go, Quincy?” Keith asked.

  “I’m so sorry, Keith. This is embarrassing.”

  “Don’t worry about it. How could you ever know that both of your tires would explode? Why don’t you grab the bunches you need, and just write them down, I’ll catch up with you tomorrow to write up the ticket.”

  “You’re the best.” I hustled over to his van and grabbed some sunflowers, solidago, purple monte, Kermit poms and the beautiful celosia by which Alex had pretended to be so smitten.

  Alex offered to help me with the flowers as Keith drove away.

  “No thank you, Officer. I’d hate to keep you from your appointed rounds.”

  “I think that’s the postman you’re talking about.”

  “Whatever. The flowers aren’t heavy. I do this every day.”

  I turned to go back into the shop; Alex walked ahead of me and opened the door.

  “Thank you, Officer Cooper, but I could have opened the door even without a man’s help.”

  “Oh give it a rest, Quincy.” He furrowed his brow and waived me past, into the back workroom.

  I turned to face him. “Thank you for coming here and doing your job by responding to a call. I appreciate it. I wish you could appreciate how embarrassing this is, and stop prolonging the moment by being here.”

  He took the bunch of flowers from my arms. “I like being here. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. How could you know that both of your tires had exploded? That never happens to—anyone. Well, anyone besides you that is.”

  “Exactly.” I don’t know what’s going on lately, but right now it feels like I’m a magnet for strange disasters. I had nothing to do with Derrick’s murder, and yet ever since they found him, bizarre things have been happening to me. I groped a corpse the other day for crying out loud.”

  Alex looked at me and cringed. “I don’t even want to ask—but, aren’t there any living bodies you would rather be groping? I believe corpse groping is an actual, serious medical disorder. I think they’ve got a name for it.”

  “It was a brief encounter. And it wasn’t intentional, but that’s not the point. It’s just that I was barely starting to feel like I was in charge of my life when all of this weird stuff started happening."

  “It’s really important for you to feel in charge isn’t it?”

  I tilted my head and clutched my hands together dramatically, “Is that a crime officer?” I batted my eyelashes.

  “No, but it sure is a way of repelling people from your life.”

  Epic fail on the cutesy routine.

  “Maybe I don’t need people in my life.”

  “Oh really? Well Miss Independent, just a quick question. Isn’t that van out there your sole source of transportation these days?”

  Damn it, he was right.

  “Yes.” I answered quietly.

  “Do you happen to have two spare tires for that van?”

  “No.”

  “So it looks to me as if you might need help from a big stupid man right now.”

 
; “Alex…”

  “I can call a tow truck for you.”

  “Are you serious? I’m going to have to buy two new tires; I can’t afford a tow too.”

  “I don’t think my spare will fit on your van. I don’t know how we’re going to get it over there without a tow.”

  “I know—I’ll call Danny. He’ll let me borrow the spare from his delivery van. I’ll just have to wait for his driver to come down when he’s finished with their deliveries. Ergh, I can’t believe this is happening.”

  Alex put his hands on his hips. “I’ll give you a ride to Danny’s. In fact, I might even help you put the spares on if you’re nice to me.” He winked and smiled a melt-your-heart smile. Why did he have to be such a cute, big stupid man?

  “I’ll go tell Cindy what’s going on.” I felt as deflated as the tires, but he was right about my needing help with them.

  I called Danny and he graciously offered to help even more, but I thanked him and told him that Alex and I would be up soon. As we drove out of the parking lot I slowly ducked down in my seat, remembering my mother’s spies on every corner.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Alex asked.

  “I’m great. Nothing wrong here.”

  “You‘re slumping, are you sure you feel okay?”

  I was too embarrassed to tell him about my mother and her network, so I lied.

  “I just feel kind of funny being in a cop car. It’s like I’ve been arrested.”

  “The criminals don’t usually ride shotgun, Quince.”

  “Oh yeah, I guess not.” I sat up a little straighter to appease him, and just made sure I kept my head turned toward him. I covered the side of my face with my right hand and rested my elbow on the window frame—trying to look casual.

  “By the way, they’ve released some information about your friend Derrick.”

  “He wasn’t my friend.”

  “He wasn’t someone else’s friend too. But they still don’t know why. His body was embalmed, and there were no obvious wounds on the body.”

  “Is it okay for you to tell me that?”

  “No, but since you are the source of all information, I thought you should know.”

  “Thanks.”

  We pulled into Danny’s back parking lot and after Alex turned off the car we entered through the delivery door. Danny buzzed around giving directions to his staff. His short quick steps stood out in direct contrast to the elongated point on his high fashion loafers. They made a clicking sound with every heel strike as he approached.

  “Well hello, dear,” Danny said. He turned is attention to Alex and gave him an obvious once over, “Gee, Officer Krupke, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “Danny, this is Alex Cooper.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Quincy dear, I’m so sorry for your car trouble. I’ve had Paul go out and pull the spare tire.” Paul was his delivery driver. “He put it inside the back doors of the van.”

  “Thanks Danny I’m really racking up the favors.”

  “Don’t you worry about it.”

  “We’ll bring the spare back as soon as we’re done.” Alex said.

  Alex had already turned to go outside as I said goodbye to Danny. Seizing his opportunity, Danny placed his hands on his hips over the pristine green and white striped apron covering his Armani long-sleeved shirt. He mouthed the words “he’s cute” when Alex wasn’t looking. I gave Danny an exasperated look. He shrugged and said, “What? It’s true.”

  It was true and I was in absolutely uncharted waters.

  CHAPTER NINE

  When we finally got both spare tires on the van, Alex followed me in his police cruiser to the tire store. I pulled into the front lot while he found an open spot around the corner. I went in and explained what had happened and asked for two of the least expensive tires I could get by on. I had used this garage before, but it was under new management since the last time I’d been in. The guy behind the desk proceeded to tell me the new tires would cost three times as much as the tires I knew I needed.

  Just as I had finished mentally constructing the chewing-out of the century, so I could deliver it to this Neanderthal without wavering, I heard the door open and saw the tire guy’s expression change.

  “Hello,” he said, all smiles and cheerfulness.

  “Hey how’s it goin’?” the new customer said behind my shoulder. “Everything going okay in here, Quince?” I had been too focused on delivering my speech to notice Alex had come through the door.

  “Oh—ha, are you two together?” The tire guy said.

  “Yeah, don’t mind me.” Alex replied.

  I opened my mouth to deliver the knock-out punch of a verbal assault when the tire guy interrupted.

  “You know, I just realized I probably looked at the wrong price on the list. I misquoted you on that tire. It can get confusing sometimes, heh.” His face bloomed into a fuchsia color and beads of sweat appeared at his receding hairline. He glanced quickly at Alex before pointing to the tires on the wall. The cheaper price was posted on the tire in question on a giant yellow price tag.

  “That’s okay.” I said. “I won’t be buying any tires here today. I’ll take my key back please. Let’s go, Alex.”

  “Wh…how come? Don’t they have what you need?”

  “No, they definitely don’t.”

  I explained what had happened when we got outside.

  “So why did you leave? He probably would have sold you tires at cost after I got there. I knew he looked guilty about something when I walked in.”

  “I’m not buying tires from a guy who tried to take advantage of me because I’m a woman! I wouldn’t take them if he gave them to me and put them on for free. I can’t believe you expect me to just accept that kind of garbage. Just because you came in wearing your uniform, looking like some superhero dressed like a cop to save the young maiden, doesn’t mean I’m going to support his chauvinistic attitude.”

  “Hey, don’t be mad at me because you needed me! Besides, you caught a break, why not take advantage of it?”

  “I didn’t need you! I was just about to rip the guy apart because I knew what he was up to. I didn’t need a rescue.”

  “You know, I didn’t have to come along. I could have just responded to the call and been on my way.”

  “You’re right about that. I’m sorry to have been such trouble to you. It won’t happen again.”

  “Quincy…”

  Alex’s cell phone rang before he could finish. He looked at the number that came up on the screen. “Great,” he said sarcastically. “I have to get this.” He answered the phone. “He’s where? You’ve gotta be kidding. I can’t believe he’d be that stupid. Okay, I’ll be there in five.” He hung up and told me he had to leave.

  “Alex, wait. I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate your help with the tires. Thank you, really.”

  “We’ll talk later. Will you be all right on your own—I mean with the van and the tires?”

  “I’ll be fine.” I was a big girl, but I didn’t need to overdo it with the “do-it-myself” stuff. I was grateful to Alex, a little annoyed—maybe—at the knight in shining armor behavior, but that was probably due to my perceptions and not reality. He was quite chivalrous. Why should I complain about that? Was I crazy? I decided not to answer that question.

  I was furious however, at the scam artist salesman, and heaven help the guy at the next tire shop.

  ###

  Nick was fired the next morning. Now I would be without a driver, but the summer was always a slow season anyway, so I could probably make do for a week until I could find a replacement. I dreaded the thought of putting out a want ad. Doing so was akin to announcing free admission to the demolition derby. The freak-fest starts before you can say, “Start your engines.”

  Personal recommendations aren’t that great either. Nick came highly recommended by one of my customers. Turns out it was his aunt. He had been staying in her rental duplex and she was sick of getting st
iffed on the rent money.

  For the time being, I would use Allie’s help at the shop. I would delay thinking about a driver until I absolutely had to.

  With only two orders for the day, I decided my time would be well spent getting back on the trail of the elusive funeral work cash cow. I decided to pay a visit to the man Derrick’s employee told me about. She said he had spoken frequently about a big account. What could be bigger than all of the funeral work in two counties?

  Irwin and LaDonna Shaw owned a shop in a small town called Plainville on the outskirts of Ogden. The majority of residents there worked full-time at the Air Force Base or were farmers who kept horses and other animals on land first tilled by their ancestors. Plainville was in the beginning stages of the suburban take over that many other small, agriculturally based towns in Utah were facing.

  Farmers died or retired, their land came available, and was bought up to make subdivisions. Along with the houses came the clash of people moving outside the big town, wanting the suburban lifestyle in a rural community. New houses were popping up next to century old farms where the new residents would then complain to the city about the smell of cow manure.

  Derrick’s manager told me the older man visited the shop frequently, and she had implied he was the one taking over the mortuary account. The pamphlet I “borrowed” from Derrick’s place had a sticky note on the inside that had the name Irwin written on it with a phone number. I had met Irwin and LaDonna Shaw previously on a visit to a wholesale house, and Irwin Shaw fit the description given by Derrick’s employee.

  I arrived at a very old brick building with windows fronting the entire shop. The front display consisted of some white wood shelves topped with silk arrangements in colors and flowers that had been popular about fifteen years before. Once inside, it was apparent the silk arrangements had been on those shelves for close to those fifteen years, since they were several shades lighter on the exposed side.

  A flower cooler to the right of the entrance held a small assortment of arrangements; a dozen roses and some mixed bouquets in varied containers. The mixed arrangements looked very similar to the Western triangle style I had been taught by my Aunt Rosie, and lent an immediate feeling of familiarity to the small shop.