African Violet Club Mystery Collection

by Elise M Stone

  She turned her attention to the other photographs. There was an old one, black and white with a crease across one corner, that showed a man and a young boy, along with a very pregnant Ruby. Did Ruby have a son? A later photograph of the girl from the first picture, now a young woman, dressed in a cap and gown and holding her diploma.

  Lilliana headed for the other table and the other set of photographs. One was of a stage where either Ruby or her daughter—the people were too small to see clearly—was performing in some kind of play. Another one where Ruby was clearly holding a bouquet of flowers in front of a curtain while her handsome co-star watched approvingly. So Ruby had done some acting. A third picture, this one a large cast photo, had autographs signed beside each actor. If Ruby not only kept, but displayed these photographs, she must have loved performing. She looked like the kind of person Lilliana would have liked to get to know.

  Lilliana straightened and scanned the room. A stack of papers on a small dining table just outside the kitchen caught her eye. She hurried to see what it was. Mail. Ruby must have collected her mail and left it on the table before going to the meeting. The chief might have forbidden her from opening drawers, but he’d said nothing about shuffling through mail lying on a table.

  It was the usual things one got at the retirement home. Advertisements for medical services, funeral arrangements, estate planning, lawyers wanting to draw up a will for you. And bills. Although most utilities were included in the rent, you had to pay your own cable bill and, of course, cell phones were extra. Flyers for supermarkets and dentists.

  As Lilliana pushed aside this week’s grocery specials, an envelope came into view. This wasn’t an ad or a window envelope holding a credit card statement. No, this envelope was the type that came with greeting cards. She pulled it out from the stack and examined the envelope. It was addressed in a strong, assertive hand. Not from the daughter, then, was Lilliana’s guess. It didn’t have a return address. She peered down the hallway and listened. The chief was no longer in front of the hall closet, and she could hear noises coming from the bedroom. She looked down at the envelope again. The chief hadn’t mentioned anything about envelopes. And the flap did look a little loose.

  Carefully she slipped a finger under the loosened section and slid it under the flap. It lifted easily. If it weren’t actually sealed, surely there was no harm in looking inside. She glanced down the hallway again and assured herself the chief wouldn’t observe her taking the card out of the envelope. She pulled it out and saw that it was one of those “Thinking of You” cards people sent nowadays when there wasn’t any special occasion. How interesting. It got even more interesting when she opened the card and saw it was signed “Your one true love.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE sun was just peeking over the mountains as Lilliana hurried down the path behind the casitas, focused on something other than the murder of Ruby Robinson. Apart from the greeting card—which the chief had seized as a lead in his investigation—they’d found nothing of interest in the victim’s apartment yesterday afternoon. For now, her part in solving the crime was on hold.

  She’d gotten up extra early in hopes of avoiding being seen by anyone on her way to the promised meeting with the queen of the fairies. So far, she’d succeeded in keeping their location, indeed their existence, secret from anyone else. It was the least she could do after all that Ted had sacrificed for them.

  Soon enough, the path led away from the buildings and into the natural desert. At this time of year, mesquite trees and other desert plants were covered in yellow blossoms. The flowers were lovely, but the excess of pollen tended to make everyone sneeze. Fifteen minutes later, she reached the muddy pond that was the terminus of a mountain stream. Now that the winter rains had ended, the pond had shrunk even further than when she’d first seen it. The roots of the desert willows at the far end must reach deep to find water at this time of year. The trees had started to bud, white bulbs shading to pink and purple swelling until they’d finally cover the willows in a riot of blooms.

  The stream dwindled to a trickle, but it was enough to show her the way as the terrain rose into the foothills. Prickly pear cactus and creosote bushes surrounded her as she followed its twists and turns over the rocky ground. She panted for breath as she hurried to reach the second pond.

  She slowed and approached the tiny pool carefully, not wanting to alarm the herd of javelina she knew often stopped there. Fortunately, it was too early for even the animals to be about. She followed the stream up the hillside until she got to the almost-invisible entrance to the cave.

  Unclipping the flashlight from the carabiner attached to her belt, she knelt down, grateful she’d worn her one pair of blue jeans for the outing. Jeans weren’t her normal style, but they were appropriate for crawling around in caves. She slipped through the narrow slot and crawled along for a few feet until the cave opened up to standing height. She pushed herself up, grunting as her knees complained, and shone the flashlight down the tunnel, revealing the stalactites hanging from the ceiling of the cave, streaked red from the iron-saturated water. She hoped she remembered the way.

  She spied the opening at the back of the room and hurried toward it, being careful to step in the footsteps Ted had made and she had followed once before. She emerged into a larger room and would have loved to stop and admire its beauty, but she wanted to be back before breakfast, so she kept her flashlight focused on the floor and the meandering pathway that led to the fairies’ home.

  The sound of rushing water warned her she was approaching the narrow ledge where an underground stream turned into a waterfall. She hugged the wall of the cave as she continued on. Relief washed over her when the ledge widened out and was no longer slippery and wet. She knew how easy it was to slip and fall in this section of the cave.

  She played the light of the flashlight over the far wall, looking for the narrow crevice that led to the inmost part of the cave. Ah, there it was. She crossed the room and sidled through the slit into another large space, then lowered the beam of the flashlight to the floor.

  In the relative darkness, she spied the soft glow coming from up ahead and headed toward it. When she arrived at her destination, her heart sank. The niche was empty. Had she taken a wrong turn? Had the fairies abandoned the cave because she hadn’t come quickly enough? How would she find them?

  Her shoulders slumped and her heart grew heavy. She was about to turn back when she saw a flash of green.

  “Here you are! Finally!” The little green fairy who had come to her apartment flitted back and forth in the niche. “We thought you would never come.”

  “I came as soon as I could,” Lilliana said and wondered how early the fairies had expected her to arrive.

  “Now don’t you go away,” the green fairy cautioned. “I’m going to get the queen and her court. You wait here.”

  Lilliana had no intention of going anywhere until she found out what Queen Esmeralda wanted—or needed—from her. The green fairy vanished into the back of the niche, leaving Lilliana alone in the cave. The seconds dragged on while she waited. At last, Queen Esmeralda emerged from the darkness at the rear of the niche, her purple fairy wings spread wide as she floated regally toward her throne made of a stalagmite at the center of the recess. Behind her followed a dozen more of the fae folk, each with wings of a different color and clothing to match. The queen sat on a purple pillow, and the fairies ranged around her, a rainbow of green and pink and yellow.

  Lilliana curtsied, not quite the deep curtsy one gave to the Queen of England, but one low enough to acknowledge the royalty of the personage before her.

  “Greetings, Lilliana.” Like the green fairy, Esmeralda rolled her r’s with the burr of her Scottish origins, and her voice tinkled with musical notes. It must be part of their magic, thought Lilliana.

  “Greetings, Your Majesty.” Lilliana rose from her bow. “I’ve come as you requested. What can I do for you?”

  Esmeralda furrowed her brow. “I’
m verra worried, Lilliana. Ted hasn’t come to visit us in several weeks. I sent Uaine”—she gestured toward the green fairy—“to his store, and she tells me it’s closed. I’m afraid he’s ill or hurt.”

  A fist clenched Lilliana’s chest. After Ted had died, she’d been too distraught to think about saying anything to the fairies. When she finally remembered them, she’d kept putting off a trip to the cave. In some ways, the cave and the fairies had become more like a dream than reality. Until Uaine had shown up. Now she not only had to break the news of his passing, she had to explain why she hadn’t come sooner.

  “Queen Esmeralda, I’m very sorry to tell you that Ted died shortly after we last came to see you.” Tears filled her eyes and clogged her throat. “I know I should have come to tell you...” Lilliana realized no excuse she could give would rationalize away her failing.

  Esmeralda half-rose from her throne before sinking back down again. Her lips trembled as her wings folded close against her body. “Oh, but this is a disaster.”

  Lilliana cleared her throat. “What’s wrong? What can I do to help?”

  Esmeralda looked doubtful, as if thinking Lilliana wasn’t up to the task. “I suppose you’ll have to do.”

  Overcome with guilt and not wanting to fail the fairies again, she said, “Whatever you need, I promise you I’ll do it.”

  Resigned, Esmeralda said, “As you can see, my troop of fairies is very small. It was a dangerous journey from Scotland, and many perished on the way. But the cities were expanding into the lands we used to roam, and we heard that there was much open space in America. There were some in particular who threatened us, who thought to use us for their own benefit. The journey was worth the risk.”

  Lilliana was fascinated by the tale. Ted hadn’t known the story of how the Scottish fairies had come to Arizona, and Lilliana had been unsure as to whether it would be impolite to ask. Now it seemed Esmeralda was going to tell her without prompting. But what was the disaster Esmeralda had mentioned?

  “If we are to survive, our numbers must grow. And, most of all, a queen needs a king.”

  Lilliana quickly scanned the fairies surrounding Esmeralda. There appeared to be only a few males among them, none of them of an appropriate age or status to marry the queen.

  “A few months ago, I sent an emissary to Scotland to invite a fairy prince to be my consort. After much searching, the emissary found a candidate willing to emigrate along with his troop. But we needed a way for him to travel more safely than we had.

  “Ted came up with the solution. He would order a shipment of Scottish provisions from his suppliers, and the fairies would hide in the box. Ted would unpack them and bring them here. But if Ted is gone and the store is closed, how will my prince and his court be able to come to us?”

  Lilliana saw the dilemma. What happened to a delivery when it couldn’t be delivered? She wasn’t quite sure. Would it be returned to Scotland? Would it be left in something like a dead letter office until the fairies starved? She couldn’t allow that to happen. “I’ll find them and bring them to you.”

  The furrow in Esmeralda’s brow eased. “Oh, thank you. Prince Tam Lin and I will be forever grateful.”

  Lilliana wasn’t sure how she would accomplish her mission, but she was determined to try.

  CHAPTER NINE

  LILLIANA opened the glass front door into the retirement home and hurried across the lobby, hoping to change out of her muddy blue jeans before anyone saw her and asked what she’d been doing. Fortunately Beverly, the receptionist, hadn’t arrived yet.

  The roar of a Harley behind her caused her to turn and look back. Kirstie had parked her bike and was taking off her helmet as she headed for the entrance. Her black eye had turned an ugly shade of purple.

  Forgetting her own appearance, Lilliana retraced her steps and held the door until Kirstie reached it.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Wentworth.” She averted her eyes, which probably explained why she made no mention of Lilliana’s muddy clothes.

  “Good morning, Kirstie.” She winced with empathetic pain. Anne, her daughter, had been about Kirstie’s age when she’d succumbed to breast cancer. Lilliana’s chest tightened at the memory. Anne might be beyond her help, but maybe there was something she could do for Kirstie. “What happened to your eye?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. I had a little accident.” Kirstie ducked past Lilliana and headed toward the clinic.

  Lilliana followed.

  Kirstie unlocked the clinic and hurried inside, hanging her helmet by its strap on the hook of a coatrack that stood just inside the door. She unzipped her leather jacket and hung that up, too. Her mouth fell open when she turned to close the door and saw Lilliana standing there. Recovering quickly, she said, “Is there anything I can do for you, Mrs. Wentworth?”

  Lilliana stepped inside and shut the door behind her. “Kirstie, it may be none of my business, but in my experience, people don’t often get black eyes from ‘a little accident.’ Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No, Mrs. Wentworth, I really don’t.” Kirstie picked a clipboard off a hook on the wall and started pulling prescription bottles from a cabinet.

  “If someone is hurting you, there are places you can get help.”

  Kirstie shook a few pills out of one of the bottles, then put them in little paper cups on a tray, the morning medications for those who couldn’t remember to take them on their own.

  Lilliana waited a few seconds, but it was obvious Kirstie wasn’t going to talk about how she got the black eye. She could only hope she’d planted the seed of an idea. “Well, if you need to talk to someone, you know where to find me.”

  SHOWERED and changed, Lilliana made her way to the dining room for breakfast. She was famished—an unusual state for her—and wondered if she should always take her morning walks earlier. Or maybe the fairies, having noticed how thin she was, had cast a spell to encourage her to eat. You never knew with fairies. While the troop in the cave seemed pleasant enough, fairy tales she’d read implied that at any moment one of them might turn tricksy.

  Lilliana scanned the room to see if anyone she knew was there. Nancy and Lenny were seated at a table not too far from the entrance. Once again, she remarked on Lenny’s build. Tennis pro and fitness enthusiast, not all of his physique came naturally. Nancy wore one of her handmade cardigans. The bright stripes of red and blue and purple made Lilliana’s eyes smart. With them sat Harlan Taft, the nasty man who’d taken the pictures, and another man she didn’t recognize sitting ramrod-straight beside him. Lilliana headed for the table.

  “Mind if I join you?” She smiled while she waited for an answer.

  “Of course, Lily,” Lenny’s voice boomed, much too loud for the quiet dining room. Several heads turned in his direction.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you’re joining us this morning,” Nancy said, all bubbly like a glass of champagne. “I wanted you to meet Harlan and Gordon here.” She gestured first in the direction of the wrinkled man, then at the other one—Gordon—who had thinning, blondish hair and wore wire-rimmed glasses.

  “Harlan and I have already met,” Lilliana said tersely. She pulled out a chair and sat down. “Nice to meet you, Gordon. I’m Lilliana.” Although she’d given up on Lenny ever calling her by her proper name, she hoped the two men would not follow Lenny’s example. She was afraid that pretty soon everyone would be calling her Lily if he did.

  “Colonel Gordon Brown, United States Marine Corps, retired.” Gordon extended his hand toward her.

  Lilliana shook the hand, thinking how rare that once-familiar gesture was now.

  “We were just talking about how terrible it was, what happened to Willie’s friend at the club meeting.” Nancy picked up her orange juice and took a sip.

  “Harrumph.” The noise came from Harlan, and Lilliana turned toward him to see if he had something to say.

  “Hot water, Mrs. Wentworth?” A young waitress stood beside Lilliana’s chair holding a pot in each hand.

&nb
sp; “Yes, thank you.” The waitress poured hot water into her cup, then moved on to Nancy.

  “More coffee, Mrs. Gardner?”

  Nancy nodded. The waitress gave her a refill.

  “Mr. Taft?”

  Harlan shook his head.

  “Colonel Brown?”

  “Only if it’s hot this time.” He wrinkled up his nose.

  Great, thought Lilliana. Another crabby old man. There were too many of them at the retirement home already. The waitress ignored the insult and filled the cup in front of him, then moved on to the next table. Lilliana took an individually wrapped tea bag of Earl Grey from her purse, opened it, and dunked the bag in the steaming water.

  “How is the investigation going, Lily?” Lenny asked.

  “Not very well, I’m afraid. It’s hard to believe nobody saw who stabbed Ruby Robinson.” Lilliana peered at the plates in front of the others to see what was being offered at the breakfast buffet this morning. It looked like Harlan Taft had a bowl of oatmeal and a slice of wheat toast, Lenny had fruit and those horrible vegetarian breakfast patties, and Nancy had a large plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. The Colonel had also opted for scrambled eggs. Lilliana’s mouth watered, and her stomach growled at the sight of food. “Excuse me. I’m going to get some breakfast.”

  After she’d gotten a plate heaped with eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes, Lilliana returned to the table. She took a packet of marmalade and spread it on her toast.

  “That’s a big breakfast for you,” Lenny commented.