The fox cocked his head in the opposite direction.
I sighed. “I wish you could tell me what really is going on.”
The fox stared down at his black paws, and I knew he wished the same.
Chapter Nineteen
“It’s like he was born to ride,” Isla said from the front seat of my Astra. Ivanhoe had his back paws braced on her lap, and his two front paws were pressed up against the dashboard. After my unforgivable mistake of not feeding the cat the moment I awoke this morning, I had decided to try—try being the operative word—to make it up to the cat by taking him to work that day.
I glanced over at the cat from my spot on the driver’s side of the car. There was a slight smile on his round face. “Maybe he likes riding in cars. I really don’t know how often his old owner would take him out and about.”
Isla pet the cat on the back, and he didn’t react to her caress. He continued staring hard out the window. “You might want to promote him to shop security,” she said. “He is quite a vigilant cat.”
“I noticed,” I said. “I hope I won’t need shop security in the future.”
“You can never be too careful,” she said seriously.
I raised my eyebrows. It wasn’t often that Isla sounded so serious. “Are you worried about it?”
“Of course I’m worried. A man has died, and I know that you plan to poke your nose in the case. You shouldn’t, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. The chief inspector would agree with me.”
“I know he would.” I parked the car in the lot just on the other side of the troll bridge as I always did. “The minister is dead. I’m not worried about anyone else wanting to break inside my shop.”
“If you say so,” my sister muttered.
Isla opted to carry the cat to the shop. He rested against her shoulder as I fitted my key into the lock and opened the front door. She set him on the floor, and the feline began inspecting the showroom.
“I think he likes it here,” Isla said, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder.
“Looks like it.” I smiled and adjusted the cat’s bed, a tote bag of Ivanhoe’s food and toys, and my shoulder bag in my arms. I knew he would not be happy if he didn’t have his favorite bed to sleep in. It had been a present to him from Alastair Croft, his previous owner, whom he’d loved. Sometimes I thought he only tolerated me and really loved the old owner.
My smile widened as I watched Ivanhoe move around the room. I had always wanted to have a shop cat, but back in Tennessee, that had never been an option. The landlord of my old building there hadn’t allowed it. However, things were different in Scotland, and I could make my own rules because I’d bought the flower shop’s building outright, which meant Ivanhoe was being promoted to shop cat. Although I would take him home to Duncreigan every night. I didn’t think the cat would do well if left alone very long. He was a very social animal.
Ivanhoe pressed his flat Scottish Fold face into the flowers that were at his height. He shoved his nose into a purple cluster of hyacinths and inhaled deeply.
“Hyacinths smell lovely, don’t they?” I asked the cat. “It’s one of my favorite scents.”
The cat looked at me over his shoulder with an irritated glance. If he had been able to pull his folded ears further back on his round head, he would have.
I held up my free hand. “Sorry to interrupt. You go ahead and inspect the place.”
Isla laughed.
I tucked the bed under my arm and walked to the sales counter. Everything was neat and tidy, just how I’d left it the night before. It was an old habit of mine—I never left a mess behind for the next day, no matter how late that kept me at the store. To me it was important to start each day fresh, like a new blossom.
Ivanhoe sniffed several more flowers and then stood in a beam of light that came through the front window in front of a cluster of white daisies with bright-yellow middles.
“Here you go.” I set the bed in the place he’d clearly chosen.
I could have been mistaken, but I thought the cat slightly bowed his head to me, like a royal honoring a favorite subject, and a subject to Ivanhoe I was. I shook my head and walked over to the sales counter.
“I think the cat has you trained.” Isla laughed.
“Since day one. Could you run over to Presha’s and pick up coffee and scones for both of us?”
“You know Presha is never going to give up coffee to go. I’ll be coming back with two chais.”
“I guess that will have to do until I get around to ordering a coffee maker for the shop.”
“Or find yours in the hundreds of boxes Mom had shipped over here. That must have cost her and Dad a fortune.”
“Please don’t remind me.” I walked over to the driftwood counter and picked up the to-do list I had left myself the night before.
When I’d had my flower shop in Nashville, I’d had the habit of leaving myself extremely detailed notes about everything I had to do the next day.
Isla fiddled with her phone. “I might be gone for a bit. I always like visiting with Presha.”
“Okay, that’s fine,” I said vaguely as I stared at the note.
“And,” she went on to say, “Raj said that he wanted me at the pub at four o’clock. He wanted to do some training before the dinner rush.”
“That’s fine,” I murmured as I read the list.
1. New arrangements
2. Write press release for Aberdeen newspaper.
3. Contact the mother of the bride who seemed interested—a short hello email about the store will suffice, don’t be pushy!
4. Organize the molding and flower wires in the workroom.
All the tasks sounded very mundane, and I remembered writing them, but at the very bottom of the list there was another note not in my hand. It was written in block letters.
Stay out of the murder!
The paper drifted from my hand and floated to the worn hardwood floor, writing side up so that I could clearly read the last reminder, the only reminder on the list that I hadn’t written.
The only thing that I could think to do was call Neil Craig and tell him to get the heck over here. I went so far as to take the phone out of my shoulder bag, and my fingers hovered over the screen, but then I set it on the counter. If I called Craig, he would know that I have been investigating the murder on my own and would order me to stop. I couldn’t stop now, after I had promised Hamish that I would see how Seth might be involved.
Isla scooped up the note, and I didn’t move to stop her. I was too consumed with wondering if I should or shouldn’t call Craig. If I called him, he would come stomping into my shop, read the note, and lock me in Duncreigan, maybe forever. How would I keep my promise to Hamish about helping Seth if he did that?
In truth, I didn’t know that Craig would keep me under house arrest, but it was a small chance, and a chance that I wasn’t willing to take.
Isla stared at the piece of paper. “Fi, are you in trouble?”
I took the note, folded it, and stuck it in my pocket. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice and leave it lying around. “Of course not.”
“Don’t treat me like a child like you always do. It says Stay out of the murder on that list, and I know that’s not your handwriting. Who wrote it?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
I was really tired of getting threatening notes at my shop. This didn’t bode well for my business.
“When did they write it?” my sister asked.
“I don’t know that either.”
Her brows knit together.
“Isla, please don’t worry. I’m sure it is just some kind of prank. There’s nothing you have to worry about.”
“You’re my sister. If someone is threatening you, I worry.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“You would do the same for me.”
I frowned. I couldn’t argue with her there. If I felt that my little sister was being threatened, I would defend her
to the end. I sighed. “I don’t know what is going on. It seems like I opened my shop and everything went topsy-turvy.”
“You should tell the chief inspector. Neil will take care of whoever did this.”
“Neil?” I asked, and blinked at her. I didn’t even call the chief inspector by his first name. The fact that my sister did only confirmed that there was something between them. I shook off the uneasy feeling. Craig was far too old for her. I told myself that was why I was uncomfortable with the idea. I cleared my throat. “I’m not going to tell Neil anything about this, and neither will you.”
“Fi, that’s ridiculous. Someone is threatening you.” She put her hands on her hips.
“We don’t know that. It could be a prank.”
“Still, someone came in here and wrote on your note. That’s creepy.”
I had to admit she was right. It was a little bit creepy. Okay, a lot creepy. “All right, all right, I’ll tell him. Just not right now. The shop is about to open, and we have a lot of work to do. Let’s just take a look around to make sure everything is all right. If it is, I can tell Craig later. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like you are trying to think up ways to avoid telling the chief inspector about the note.”
I didn’t bother to respond. When we’d arrived, I had put my key in the lock before testing the door because I had assumed it had been locked. I knew I had locked it; I had checked on the walk home from the docks before I’d left the village for the night.
I went to the back door at the end of the workroom. That door was locked tight. The windows were nailed shut. It was something I planned to have fixed when I had time. But someone had gotten in here after Isla and I left. A knot formed in my stomach at the very thought of the intrusion. I wanted to feel safe here, but first Minister MacCullen’s death and now the note writer had robbed me of that. “Let’s just make sure no one is still here.”
Isla shivered. ‘Do you think they still could be?”
I shook my head. “No, but I will feel a lot better knowing no one is here. I’ll look in the workroom. You check here and the bathroom.”
She chewed on her bottom lip. “Okay. If you hear me screaming, come running.”
I went into the workroom. The only places someone could hide would be in one of the two upright storage cabinets or under the large island that I used as my worktable. I checked all spots and found nothing.
No screams came from the showroom or the bathroom, so I assumed that Isla had also found nothing. I went back through the doorway into the front of the shop. She held her hands aloft and shrugged.
At least I knew that whoever had broken into the Climbing Rose was no longer there because Isla and I had searched all the possible hiding places with Ivanhoe softly snoring in his cat bed. I knew the cat would not have been able to sleep if he sensed someone menacing was there.
“Fi?” my sister asked in a small voice.
I turned in her direction.
She had her arms wrapped around her body. “Are you scared?”
I had two choices in that moment. They were the two choices a person has in every moment of their life: to lie or tell the truth. I opted for the truth. “Yes, Isla, I’m scared.”
Chapter Twenty
I decided that I wouldn’t tell Chief Inspector Craig about the presumed break-in at the Climbing Rose until the end of the day. There were a few people I wanted to talk to today about the murder, and I knew if I told him this early, he wouldn’t let me out of his sight for the rest of the day.
At noon I walked to the Twisted Fox to pick up lunch, armed with an arrangement of red-and-gold sunflowers for Raj. He and Presha had helped me so much with the flower shop that I wanted to say thank you, and it was the least I could do because he refused to take any money from me for the meals I ate at the pub.
Raj was setting plates of tandoori chicken in front of a couple sitting by one of the pub’s narrow windows when I walked in. “Enjoy your meals.” He bowed to them before backing away. He smiled when he saw me standing at the bar. “Fiona, what a pleasure. How is the Climbing Rose?”
“Much quieter than opening day,” I said. The truth was I hadn’t had a single customer all morning. I reminded myself that we were a new business and it was the first week, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. I would never be able to survive another flower shop going under. “I stopped by to pick up lunch for Isla and me.”
He grinned from ear to ear. “It is good to hear that Isla is with you at your shop. It means that she is a hard worker. She will fit into the job here as a waitress very well.”
“She said she was working for you this evening.”
“She is. It is one of our slowest nights, so it’s a good night to begin her training.” He pointed at the flowers in my hands. “Who are these for?”
“You.” I set them on the bar in front of him. “It’s just a little thank you for everything that you have done in helping me get the Climbing Rose up and running.”
He beamed. “I will cherish them. Men love getting flowers too, whether they are secure enough to admit it or not.”
I smiled. “That’s good to know.”
“I saw you eyeing the tandoori, so I will have my cook whip up some of that for you and Isla to go.”
“Thanks, Raj. I really should get back to my shop. I need to drum up some business.”
“Business will come, Fiona. You must be patient.”
Patience wasn’t one of my best characteristics.
He went back into the kitchen as the door of the pub flew open. A round, short woman walked into the pub with a small boy on her hip. “Where is Raj?” she demanded. “I have to speak with him now!” Her dirty-blonde hair fell out of the haphazard knot at the top of her head.
“He—”
Before I could finish, Raj appeared with a takeaway package in hand. “Claudia, is everything all right at the laundromat?”
“Raj, thank goodness you are here. I have terrible news.”
“Whatever for?” Raj asked. “What happened?”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “It’s Remy. The police came and took him to Aberdeen for questioning.” She placed her free hand over her heart. “They think he killed Minister MacCullen.”
I felt all the blood drain from my face. This must be Remy’s wife, Claudia, and their son.
“What am I going to do?” Claudia wailed.
“Go,” Raj said. “Do not worry about the laundromat. Your place is with your husband right now. I will find someone else to watch your shift. Don’t you worry, Claudia. That should be the least of your worries.” He reached under the counter and came up with a basket of chocolate candy bars. He unwrapped one and handed it to the little boy. “Would you like a candy, Byron?”
She shook her head. “No, I have work. I need the money.” She paused. “And Remy told me that he doesn’t want me with him when he’s questioned.”
The child grabbed the sweet from Raj’s hand.
Raj pressed his lips together as if he was holding back a comment about Claudia’s husband.
Claudia put Byron on the floor, and he wobbled back and forth for a moment on pudgy legs but found his balance. He wobbled to the far end of the bar, gripping the barstools for support with his free hand as he went. In his other hand, the chocolate was already beginning to melt. It wouldn’t be long before the boy was covered from head to toe in chocolate.
“If you need to work, you are more than welcome to,” Raj said. “If you have to leave for any reason, just let me know, and I will handle the laundromat.”
A tear rolled down her round cheek. “Thank you, Raj. Thank you. I don’t know what I would do without your understanding. You have been so kind to me, so many times …” She trailed off and seemed to take notice of me for the first time. A red flush ran up her neck and onto her full cheeks. “I am sorry to have disturbed your lunch.”
I shook my head. “It’s fine. I’m sorry to hear about your troubles.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she studied me. “Who are you?”
“Claudia,” Raj said. “This is Fiona Knox. She just opened the Climbing Rose Flower Shop next door.” He pointed to the vase of sunflowers on the bar. “Those are from her shop. Aren’t they lovely?”
Her eyes narrowed, and she placed her hand on her hips. “You!”
I blinked at her. “Me what?”
“You’re the reason my Remy was taken to the Aberdeen police station today. You are the reason that he’s in this trouble.” She shook her finger at me.
“I—I—”
“I spoke to the old men on the docks, and they told me that they didn’t talk to the police about Remy until after they told you they had seen him there with the minister. They wouldn’t turn on one of their own, but since they told you, you got Neil Craig involved, and now look what has happened to my husband.” She jabbed her finger into my chest.
I jumped off the barstool and rubbed the place where she’d poked me. “Hey, that hurt.”
“You’re lucky I don’t cause you more pain for what you have put my family through.”
“I only told the police what I knew. Old Milton at the docks is the one who saw Remy with Minister MacCullen the day he died, not me. If you want to blame anyone, you should blame your husband for getting into an argument with the minister in the first place. And what exactly was the argument about, Claudia? Do you know anything about it?”
“How dare you!” She grabbed the vase of sunflowers from the bar and threw them on the hardwood floor. The vase shattered on the floor as water, shards of glass, and bright-yellow petals scattered every which way.
A hand flew to Claudia’s mouth, and Byron, who thankfully was at the far end of the bar and safe from shattered glass, began to cry.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Claudia ran to the end of the bar and scooped up her child. Without another word, she ran out of the pub.
The pub was silent for a full minute after she left. Even Popeye and his cronies by the fireplace didn’t utter a word. But slowly, conversation and laughter resumed as if nothing odd had transpired.
Death and Daisies Page 13