The Final Arrangement

by Annie Adams

  "Lan, would you just listen to me?" the second voice said.

  "No. I will not listen to you. You will listen to me. Things could get really rough for you around the department if I'm not happy. Do you know what I'm saying?"

  "Yeah, I know."

  "Alright. Now you’ve got to take care of that big mouth out there. She's flapped her jaw too much. We need to shut her up. Do you know what I'm saying?”

  "Yeah. I’ve got an idea."

  "Good. Now get out of here, I can't be seen with you."

  I took that as my cue to get out of the way. I took a giant step back the way I had come and then turned and rushed to the other side of the kitchen and out the one-way door.

  Even though I hadn't seen the two men, I had heard them planning a crime. One of the voices seemed vaguely familiar, but not enough to recognize the person it had come from. That same speaker had called the other Lan. Probably short for Landon Powell. Who was the big mouth Powell talked about? I knew it was a woman. Me? But I hadn’t flapped my jaw. Much.

  I also hadn’t murdered Derrick, but that didn't stop people from considering me a suspect.

  I hurried back without the water and luckily, K.C. was taking care of the problem. My heart still pounded while I looked over to the front of the room. Carol smiled politely and nodded while talking to a curvaceous woman with fake blond hair, who wore a body-hugging sapphire floor-length dress. She waved her arms around as she spoke to Carol. It made it easy to spot the enormous diamond bracelet on her wrist. It was a solid four-inch band of sparkle. I noticed Carol gesturing to me to come over.

  “Quincy,” she said as I arrived, “this is Camille LeFay. She has been looking for you. Excuse me while I go check with the band.” She looked relieved and practically ran away. I had never met Camille, but her name was familiar.

  I took a steadying breath and tried to set aside the fear I was experiencing from what I had just overheard. I scrutinized Camille’s face hoping to find some clue to help me remember who she was. She looked beautiful in the way that people who are meant to be arm candy look. She wore bright red lipstick, lots of eyeliner and mascara, and she had a fake beauty spot penciled in on her upper lip. She had enormous basketball-shaped fake breasts. If the wind were to change direction suddenly she would tip right over.

  “Hi, you wanted to see me?”

  Her reply came in a throaty, sexy voice. “No, but my boss does.” She eyed me up and down, her expression finally suggesting I wasn’t much worth looking at.

  I tilted my head, confused at what she had just said. “Who is your boss?”

  Her eyes zeroed in on my newly exposed black eye. My expressive head tilt had caused my hair to betray me.

  “I hope the pay is good.” Camille said.

  “Pardon?”

  “That shiner. I hope it’s worth it—putting up with the guy that did that to you. He must be rich.”

  “Oh.” I quickly placed my hair to cover the eye. “No, I tripped and fell and then…it’s a long story.”

  “Uh huh. All I can say is that you can find another sugar-daddy. They’re a dime a dozen honey. You don’t have to put up with one that hits you.”

  “Thanks for the tip.”

  “Take my boss, for example. I got this just for listening to him whine.” She held up her wrist and the bracelet. She slurred her speech and I could smell the source of her confidence. She must have taken a wine bath before the event.

  “Now who did you say your boss was?”

  “I told you. Landon.”

  “Landon Powell?”

  “Well duh. Of course, Landon Powell.”

  “And he’s the one who wants to see me?”

  “Oh yeah, that. Yeah he told me to find out who you are and point you out to him.”

  “Why?”

  She paused to think for a long time and then she started to sway on her feet. I reached out to steady her.

  “Whoa,” she giggled. “I guess I had a little extra wine before I came here. What were we talking about?”

  “Your boss. Why does he want to see me?”

  “I don’t know, something about Derrick. Derrick!” She shouted the name. She held up her pointer finger and closed one eye. She shook her finger at me. “Now that’s someone who liked to hit. I got these out of him before I dumped ‘is ass.” She brushed back her hair to display M&M sized diamond stud earrings in her lobes. It occurred to me then, that this was the woman Mickey had talked about at the restaurant.

  “You knew Derrick Gibbons?” I asked.

  She laughed. “Yeah I knew him, in the biblical sense, if you know what I mean.” She began to laugh hysterically. I couldn’t help but notice her eyelids drooping heavily and the skin on her face emanating a layers-deep ruddy red.

  “Did you and he…have a relationship when he was murdered?”

  “I don’t know. We were off and on for a while there. I think he was with me just to use me. I mean besides just for…you know.”

  “What else did he use you for?” I was hoping this conversation didn’t turn out like the one I’d had with Linda, but seeing as how liquid truth had freed Camille’s tongue, I needed to ask as many questions as I could get away with.

  “He was always asking me stuff about Landon’s business. He wanted to know about different projects and land and boring shit like that. Oops,” she put her hand to her mouth and giggled, “sorry about the swear. He didn’t turn out to be anything special. There wasn’t much going on down there, if you know what I mean.” She wiggled her fingers below her waist, oblivious to the disgust I struggled to conceal. “I mean he started juicing and lifting weights more and more and things kind of quit working in the man department.”

  “Why did you start going out with Derrick in the first place? I mean, didn’t you say you got that from…you know…with your boss?” I pointed to the diamond bracelet.

  “Landon started having trouble keeping up…if you know what I mean. It happened after he found out his wife was sleeping with someone. I guess what was good for the goose wasn’t good for the hen…I mean the chicken, you know?” I nodded my head to give the appearance of understanding. “Anyway, Derrick used to visit Landon at the office all the time and he started asking me out. It took awhile but he promised me these so I said yes.” As she said this she cupped each hand under a basketball and lifted up. “Double H’s, baby.”

  “Whoa…” I let slip. “Did your boss know you were seeing Derrick?”

  “Are you crazy? Landon would kill anyone if he knew they were sleeping with me.”

  “Did Mr. Powell know who was sleeping with his wife?”

  “No. He heard some rumors though. He told me about it. He was going to have his cop buddy look into it.”

  “Any idea what that buddy’s name might be?” I asked innocently.

  “Yeah,” she said too loudly, “of course I remember. I know everything about everything. Le’ me think.” She stopped and stared into the air in front of her for a long time, then appeared to be falling asleep. “I don’t remember his name, but it starts with an A. For sure I know it starts with an A.”

  "Was it Arroyo?"

  "Nooo. That's way off."

  A…Alex? My breath caught up in my throat for a moment. "It wasn't Alex, was it?"

  "That sounds right," she said. "Who's Alex?"

  "Never mind."

  I’d had my suspicions, especially lately, with what Alex had said to K.C. He was in league with Landon Powell. He had been sent to spy on me from day one. The more I thought about it, the more obvious it was. Showing up at the hit-and-run had put him right where he could keep an eye on me. He’d known all about my snooping at Derrick’s place and the mortuary.

  My chest tightened and an invisible boa constrictor wrapped itself around my left arm. Was I having a heart attack? My stomach knotted into a baseball and my chest burned, deep inside. It wasn't a heart attack; it was reality hitting me, telling me I had been made a fool.

  Looking back, it oc
curred to me why he had been so attracted to me. No one falls for someone that hard and that fast. He was merely playing a part. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it coming. And that I had been so stupid. I had kissed him and thought about doing much more, while the whole time, he had just been enjoying the physical perks of the job. I’d hoped I would have been a better judge of character. But then, my track record should have told me I wasn’t.

  “Heeyy!” Camille’s slurred voice woke me from my heartache-induced trance. “I’m s’posed to find somebody named Candy…no…Clancy. Do you know anyone named Clancy?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “Oh well. My boss wanted me to find out what Clancy looks like. He’s really mad at her for some reason…wants to see her. Oh well, I don’t care. He’s bringing his stupid wife to this thing and making me sit at a different table. Like his wife doesn’t know about us. She’s no dummy. She just decided to get back at him the way he did with me. What’s good for the hen is good for the gander you know? Hey what’s your name? I forgot.”

  “It’s Quinella.”

  “Oh. That’s an ugly name. I like you anyway, Stella. You’re all right. I…don’t feel too good.” She put her hand to her stomach.

  “One more thing, Camille, did Derrick mention who he was seeing before you?”

  “No, he said he hadn’t been with any women in a long time.” A wicked smile curled her lips. “I’m all the woman he needed.”

  “I was kind of thinking it wasn’t a woman he was seeing before you.” I braced myself in case she didn’t like my accusation.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Someone told me that he had quite a close male friend, like maybe even a boyfriend.” I winced and leaned back in case she had a quick first step leading into her right cross.

  “Oh. Did he have money?”

  “That’s what I hear.”

  “Oh. Probably then,” she shrugged. “My stomach really doesn’t feel good. I’ve gotta go.”

  “The bathroom is over there.” I pointed to the left. She hustled out of the room in the same direction.

  So Landon Powell was trying to shut me up.

  Alex had to have told him everything I knew about Derrick. The only thing he could want to shut me up about was my innocence. He must have killed Derrick or had Arroyo or…Alex do it. I had to get out of there. I could hardly breathe. I wanted to crumple into a ball in a dark corner.

  “There you are, Boss!” K.C.’s enthusiastic greeting pulled me out of the depths. “Oh, Quincy, thank you so much for bringing me to the ball. I haven’t felt like this in years. I feel like a storybook princess. I don’t know the last time I felt so alive. Not since my poor husband died, God rest his soul. This party hasn’t even started and I’ve already met some swell folks. I think I might even have found a gentleman friend to take me out. Fred over there is the hotel manager, and I think he’s sweet on me. I invited him to sit at our table. I hope that’s alright with you.”

  K.C. beamed. She was having such a good time. Maybe I could just leave and come back and help her clean up. But I couldn’t leave. I'd heard Landon Powell telling someone to shut me up. If I went home, someone could be waiting for me. Powell had told the other person to get lost during their kitchen conversation, so he wouldn’t be here. I was in the safest place possible; a crowded place where no one could shut anyone up without 500 of the most influential people in the county or even the state knowing about it. Besides, K.C. was radiating joy. If I let on about any of the danger I was in, she would deflate like a helium filled Mylar balloon that had been put in the flower cooler.

  I told K.C. I was very happy for her and her new friend and that she was having such a good time. I told her I wasn’t feeling so well, and I wouldn’t be socializing too much before the event started. People were already filling the auction room for a preview. Dinner would start in twenty minutes. She decided to wait with me at our table. We talked about our strategy for taking things down after the event, so as to avoid seeing anyone at the silent auction.

  The dinner began later but my stomach was too nervous to tolerate much food. The lights were dimmed and the entertainment began. Women and men in striped and swirl-print leotards hung from ceiling to floor drapes of fabric. They twisted and slid through the fabric from which they hung. Mystic music encircled the room.

  K.C. looked over at me wide-eyed at the performance. “Boss, you really must not be feeling too well,” she whispered. “I’ve never seen you turn down food since I’ve known you.” She’d only known me for a few days. So I liked to eat.

  “I’m still not feeling too well,” I said, while grimacing and grabbing my stomach. I wasn’t lying! I was sick at the thought of being murdered if I left the room.

  The fabric dancing finished and the M.C. took to the podium. “Wasn’t that beautiful and exciting everyone?” The audience applauded. “Before we continue, we would like to acknowledge our distinguished guests. Mayor Jefferson,” the M.C. said as a spotlight flooded the table where the Mayor sat. “Senator Powell,” said the M.C. The light found a table where a good looking man in his fifties sat next to the woman I had seen in the mortuary parking lot with the untied blouse. She did her job well, sitting next to her husband, looking at him admirably in her very modest dress, appropriate for a devoted Mormon housewife. Of course, Camille LeFay wasn't sitting at their table, but she wasn't sitting at any other table that I could see. She didn't appear to be in the room at all.

  The M.C. continued.

  “We would also like to extend our thanks to all of the wonderful people who have made this event possible. L and M lighting, the event center catering, Dragonfly Dance Company…” As each name was ticked off the list, the spotlight found the table where the holder of the name sat. I realized I was on that list and that Landon Powell wanted to see me.

  “Oh my stomach,” I bent over then looked at K.C., “I think I’m going to throw up.” I dove under the table just before I heard the M.C. say “Rosie’s Posies.” I could see the flood of light pass across the table as it illuminated the tablecloth. I waited a few seconds to make sure the M.C. directed everyone’s attention to another table.

  “Boss, are you okay?” K.C. whispered loudly under the table. I crawled out and got back in my seat.

  “False alarm,” I said. "Did anyone see me duck, do you think?

  “I don't know, I was looking down here for you.” It suddenly occurred to me that K.C. was lucky she ducked, too. The wrong someone might have assumed she was me.

  The event finished with the silent auction, giving us time to tear down and load the van from a rear service entrance. K.C.’s new acquaintance was a great help. Not only did he help us move everything, but he became another possible witness, which would be a deterrent for a murderer who wanted to make me disappear. We moved into the silent auction room after the crowd left and picked up the few arrangements there.

  I drove the van to the shop and K.C. and Fred rode together in his car, and then met me to help unload.

  Tearing down an event is in some ways just as difficult as producing one and getting it delivered. Besides the special events contributing to the no life factor for the florist, usually you’re so tired at midnight or two in the morning, you just want to leave everything there and hope that the elves magically appear to clean everything up. K.C. and I didn’t see any elves, but Fred did have a certain twinkle in his eye, and his ears were slightly pointed.

  As the nose of the van reached the curb, the ache in my shoulders demanded my attention. My legs felt like lead down to my ankles, where the lead turned to burning molten fire under my feet. I couldn’t bear the thought of working any more that night.

  K.C. came over to my window. "Let's head 'em up and move 'em out," she said.

  "You know what? I’m exhausted. There’s nothing in here that we need to worry about keeping fresh. We can leave it and deal with it in the morning. Let’s just go home.” I realized as soon as I said it that I couldn’t go home. Someone had been
assigned to shut me up. I would be a sitting duck at home. “Oh, crap. Never mind.” I paused to think about where I could sleep that night.

  “Boss, you’ve been acting strange all night. Tell me what’s really going on.”

  I explained most of what I had overheard at the party, and told her about Camille LeFay and how she was sent to find me. I didn’t tell K.C. I suspected Alex. I didn’t want to hear why I was wrong about him, or that I should have known better. Either way, it would require thinking about the times I had spent with him, and my heart just couldn’t handle it.

  “I would offer a spot at my place, kid, but my apartment’s too small. How about I come stay over with you? I’ve got the Enforcer and a few tools in the car. We’ll show those pansies who they’re dealing with!” She pumped her fist into the air and her face reddened, matching the beehive on her head.

  “You know what K.C., you’re right! This is my life and I am going to stay at my own house! I’m not going to let a low-life dirty cop dictate what I will and won’t do.”

  “Right on sister!”

  Fred took us to K.C.’s apartment where she gathered some clothes and her cache of weapons. Fred didn’t say much, but his eyes widened at every new piece of equipment that emerged, revealing how impressed he was with K.C.’s arsenal. We drove to my place in K.C.’s car and went to bed after checking the locks and the blinds several times.

  ###

  I won’t say it was the best rest of my life, but having K.C.’s weapons within reach at any moment made it a lot easier to relax. I let myself sleep in, since the shop was closed for the holiday. When I finally opened my eyes, my alarm clock said 8:47 am. The aroma of bacon hung in the air. I followed the scented trail to the kitchen where I found K.C., wearing one of my grandma’s frilly aprons, flipping pancakes in between shimmies with the spatula held aloft, playing air percussion. The small radio on top of the fridge played "Rockin’ Robin." Her red beehive still towered atop her head. It hadn’t moved a centimeter since I picked her up at her apartment the night before.