by CeeCee James
“He’s just so happy to see you,” Mrs. Campbell wavered, her voice breathless.
“Calm down, Frodo,” Elise admonished. “Sit.” She pressed her hand against the dog’s back end. Frodo obediently acquiesced.
“So, last week in class, we learned all about capturing the beauty of a flower. Come see what I did.” Mrs. Campbell tottered down the hall at the last word, leaving Elise no choice but to follow. “We had our weekly craft night. Mr. Thompson was there.” She held a hand up to her mouth in a conspiratorial whisper. “Personally, I think he just comes for the wine.”
She led the way into the living room where an impressive canvas lay propped against the wall. A bee took up the entire canvas. “I call that… beelieve.” Her face shone as she smiled proudly at her work.
“Oh, it’s lovely!” Elise nodded. If she squinted, she could just make out a blotchy green heart-shape in the corner. “And that is.…”
“The flower. It’s a bee and a flower. To show the contrast between different ways we can soar. Because we all fly high in so many unique ways.”
“Ooooh.” Elise tried hard to keep her face from showing skepticism. “It’s lovely. Truly, you did a great job capturing the green. Life. Beautiful.” She flashed her a grin. “Well now, I should get going before it gets too hot out. Frodo doesn’t mind it, but Winnie gets very droopy in the heat. He’ll just drag her along. Where is Winnie anyway?”
At the mention of her name, the pug poked a dark face out from under a blanket where she’d buried herself. Elise clicked her tongue and softly snapped her fingers to call the dog over.
“If I could just have a moment, dear. What is it with this younger generation always being in a hurry?”
“Just need to fly off.” Elise chuckled at her own joke. It quickly faded as Mrs. Campbell peered over the tops of her glasses with lips pressed together in firm librarian disapproval. “Sorry,” she whispered, and began fussing with the zipper on her jacket.
“Well, bless your heart. What I wanted to tell you was what Mrs. Packer shared with us at our meeting. It was right after our first glass of wine. Mr. Thompson had two and didn’t think we’d notice.” Her voice trailed away as her wrinkles settled into a frown.
“What did Mrs. Packer say?” Elise prompted.
“Oh.” Reanimated again, she smiled. “Why, the most interesting thing crossed her desk yesterday. She was with her son—you know that nice, young police officer with the dark hair?— when he received a fax. It was the toxicology report from the coroner’s office. Apparently, Cameron was poisoned.”
Elise’s mouth dropped open before she quickly recovered. “Did it say what kind of poison?”
“It said a chemical compound causing organ failure and heart attack. I wonder, isn’t that something rat poison could do? Because I think it’s awfully peculiar that there was an exterminator at the Wiggles Convenience store across the street just the day before. Tea, dear?”
Elise sank into a chair and accepted the delicate teacup Mrs. Campbell offered.
“Would you like a cookie to go with that?”
She shook her head in the negative. “How do you know the exterminator was there?”
“I heard it from Cecily—she owns the sewing machine repair shop, don’t you know. They were there for years before Cameron’s car dealership moved in. Quite ruined the neighborhood, she always said.”
Elise felt a bubble of impatience rising in her chest and had to gulp at her tea to cover. Frodo bumped her arm with her head, impatient for his walk. “The exterminator?” she prompted.
“Oh, yes. Apparently, they’d been clearing their back lots. Rats everywhere. Cecily said she’d even seen one bobbing around in their pool!” Mrs. Campbell shivered. “Horrid creatures.”
Elise placed the cup on its saucer. “What was the name of the company?”
“Oh, what was the name? Cecily told me.” Her forehead rumpled. “Well, I can’t hardly remember, dear. More tea?”
Elise bit the inside of her cheek, her thoughts spinning. “No, I really should go but thank you again for the tea. Come on, Winnie!” She whistled and this time, the little Pug scurried out of the blanket towards her.
After unfolding the leashes from her pocket, Elise snapped them on Winnie and Frodo. In his excitement, the big dog twirled in a circle. His tail swept the delicate cup off the table with a clatter, making both women squeal.
“I should have watched him better. I’m so sorry.” Elise stooped to pick up the broken pieces of fine white china.
“It’s not your fault, dear. Frodo strikes again.” The older woman’s face was grim as she shook a knobby finger at the dog. “What am I going to do with you?”
The dog sat with his ears back and looked contrite. His tail thumped against the floor.
Elise cradled the fragile pieces of china in her hand.
“The trash bin is just around the corner,” the elder woman directed. Elise moved to the kitchen to deposit the broken glass. Her eye caught a bright splash of blues and yellows on the dining room table where a large vase of flowers sat.
“Those flowers are lovely, Mrs. Campbell,” she said as she returned to the living room.
Mrs. Campbell’s eyes brightened with pride. “Thank you, dear. Just clippings from my yard. Little did I know that I’d discover I have a green thumb in my seventies.” She ruffled her hand through Frodo’s coat and said, “Now, off you go and be good for Elise, you two!”
Frodo led Elise down the hall, with Winnie dragging behind. “One of you sure is ready for a walk.” She laughed and began winding the leashes around her hand in preparation. “I’ll see you later, Mrs Campbell.”
Elise exited the house with the dogs and skipped down the steps. Frodo strained at the leash when he spotted a small creature scurry under the neighbor’s hedge. Small and black. The dog tugged her over to investigate.
The squirrel skittered up a nearby tree with furious chittering.
“He’s not your arch enemy, ol’ boy. Now, let’s go.” She clucked her tongue at Winnie and looked at her Fitbit. Seven thousand steps. With a groan, she started into a light jog. Frodo and Winnie trotted next to her, tails wagging happily.
Elise took in deep breaths to maximize her oxygen. Her brain was spinning as her sneakers slapped against the sidewalk to the beat of the questions she had. Who had poisoned Cameron? Will they strike again?
CHAPTER 6
It was noon on Sunday, and Elise was already late. With growing anxiety, she found one of the last parking spots available in front of the cemetery and nosed her car in.
And, it was sprinkling. Perfect. Why did it always rain for a funeral? Elise looked out the windshield at the sea of black umbrellas undulating around the grave site. Did she bring her umbrella? She glanced in the back seat. Her red one. She rolled her eyes at the thought of how she would stick out like a sore thumb.
Nothing to be done about that. She reached for the umbrella, fingertips just brushing it as it slid from the seat to the floor. After a grunt and a lunge, she procured it and climbed out of the car.
Elise snapped it open and scanned the funeral area. The seats were filled with people. She was surprised to see how many people she still recognized.
“Elise! Over here!”
A high voice grabbed her attention. Lavina waved from beneath her own bright paisley umbrella. Elise scooted into the empty seat, grateful for her friend. “How are you? Are you okay?”
“You know me. I’m always okay.” Lavina’s lips, covered in her signature red lipstick, broadened into a big smile.
Glancing around, Elise counted seven hats and three veils from where she sat. People still wore veils to funerals these days?
She located the blonde head of Mrs. McMahon sitting in the front row, hemmed in on both sides by men wearing dark overcoats. Mrs. McMahon dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief as one of the men laid his arm across her shoulders.
It was the only sign of grief she saw. Despite everyone being there o
stensibly to mourn the deceased man, the atmosphere was anything but somber. People chatted and smiled. Laughter broke out in the far corner but was quickly stifled by a clucking tongue. Apparently, some things were still deemed inappropriate for a funeral, even for one as disliked as Cameron was.
And then unexpectedly, a wave of quiet rolled over the crowd and quickly dissolved into furious whispering. Elise spun around to see what caused the ruckus.
A wheelchair bumped up the aisle. Seated in the chair was a tall, skinny man, his face drawn and solemn. He seemingly did not notice the disruption he caused the crowd of mourners. Bereft of an umbrella, he huddled under a plaid blanket that covered his legs.
The young woman who pushed him appeared to be in her early twenties. At first glance, her clothing seemed well put together, but under closer scrutiny, Elise noticed the frayed edges of her black jacket and scuff marks on her shoes. Her pale wrists seemed too dainty to wield the big man in the wheelchair. And almost to prove the point, the wheels stuck fast on a knob of grass. She heaved, her arms trembling, and finally made it over. The man’s head bobbed at each bump as she struggled to push him through.
Elise tried to see her face, but the woman’s features were hidden by a black fedora.
The whispering abated the farther he came up the aisle. The young woman glanced ahead and nudged a pair of glasses higher on her nose. She located a place for the two of them and determinedly shoved the wheelchair towards it.
With a few more bumps, the young woman got him to the front. After putting the brakes on, she settled next to him in an empty chair. She fussed over the blanket, making sure he was covered, and then opened an umbrella and held it over them both. She took a deep breath before crossing her legs daintily at the ankles.
Around them, the swell of conversation grew. Elise could just make out a few words. “Is that him?”
“Yep, that’s him.”
“Probably come to spit on the grave.”
Elise studied the man further. Hunched in a tweed overcoat that lay in deep wrinkles around his waist, the man stared straight ahead. He looked to be in his late fifties. Elise wondered at the relationship between the young woman and the man. His injury did not seem recent as his legs held the thin boniness of someone trapped in the chair for a very long time.
His eyes remained hidden behind black-framed glasses, his face frozen in an unreadable expression. His hands lay limply folded in his lap. Suddenly, he ducked his head to whisper to the young woman. She looked toward the front and nodded in return. His face broke out into a grin, and he let out a low chuckle. The young woman’s lips flickered in a small show of amusement as she returned her attention to the front.
Elise nudged Lavina. “Who is he?”
“Oh, honey. You’ve missed out on so much in the ten years you’ve been gone. How can you ever expect me to get you caught up on all the gossip?” Lavina plucked at a small piece of lint caught on the front of her hot pink sweater. Never one to shy from color, even at a funeral, Lavina flicked the lint before patting her brilliant red hair piled high in curls up on her head. “That is Mr. Davis. He’s been in a lawsuit with Cameron for nearly as long as you’ve been gone. It’s just been dragging out in court.”
“Who’s the woman?”
Lavina flashed a quick gaze over to study her. “I’ve never seen her before. Perhaps his assistant?”
“Well, what happened? You going to tell me?”
“Mr. Davis used to work with Cameron years and years ago, back when Cameron was also a young man. I saw a picture of them in the newspaper advertising a butchering business they'd started together. Cute young man, both in their early twenties. They’re always so delicious at that age.” Lavina sighed and licked her lips at the memory.
“Lavina, focus!”
“Oh, pooh. You never want to hear the good stuff. Anyway, Mr. Davis showed back up in town about ten years ago and reunited with Cameron. It did not go well. I believe there was some squabble over money that left our dear Mr. Davis quite upset. There were threats made and a screaming match. I heard it was quite spectacular. Then Mr. Davis drove off the car lot with his teenage son sitting in the front seat with him. From there they just disappeared.” Lavina’s eyes widened dramatically. “No one heard from Mr. Davis for days and a missing person’s report was filed.”
“And?”
“Turn’s out a local farmer caught sight of his car at the bottom of Reicher cliff.” Lavina leaned close to whisper and a heady scent of Lily of the Valley rolled between them. “Poor man was pinned in his car with his son gone to be with the angels. Brake lines were just hanging by a thread.”
Elise felt the blood drain from her face. “So… foul play then.”
“The foulest. Or so a little bird told me. Our police department spent one lick of a minute investigating the accident before calling it a natural event. People didn’t look so kindly at Cameron after that.” She tipped her head in the “you know what I’m talking about” way.
“So, what about this lawsuit?”
“Mr. Davis has been after Cameron in a civil suit all this time. Apparently, he has proof that Cameron’s hand was in the crime. Hidden away someplace safe, is how the rumor goes.”
“What the heck? How could he have proof and the state not go after Cameron?”
“I don’t know. This is the first time any of us has seen Mr. Davis’s face in all these years.”
“Where has he been all this time?”
“I’ve heard he’s been staying at the Riverside Retreat and Wellness Center out in Tallahassee. They’re the cutting edge in the treatment of nerve and brain damage.” Lavina raised a plucked eyebrow.
Elise shot another look at Mr. Davis. As if he sensed her interest, he shifted in his chair until he could return the stare. The overcast sky flicked its reflection across the lenses of his glasses. His lip lifted in a sardonic grin, and he raised two fingers in a mock salute.
Elise couldn’t believe his attention and gave a furtive glance over her shoulder to see if there was someone else he was looking at. No one appeared to have noticed. She glanced back. Mr. Davis continued to hold her gaze for a moment more before finally releasing it to face front. She exhaled deeply and unconsciously rubbed her throat.
Beside Elise, Lavina scrolled through her phone. “Big deal, huh?” She continued to drone away, oblivious of the interaction.
“Despite his thinness, he definitely doesn’t look like a frail man.”
Lavina shook her head before jamming her phone back in her purse. “Nobody said he was. I think he even had Cameron shook until his accident. Now would you check out all those planters?”
A row of silver planters filled with stalks of flowers lined the front like soldiers guarding the unknown tomb. Elise quickly counted. “Twenty-nine of them. So odd.” Then, touching Lavina’s arm. “You sure you’re okay? Have people talked to you?”
“I’m fine. You know my motto: never let them see you sweat.”
Around them, people quieted again. A priest adorned in heavy vestments walked to the vestibule. He folded his hands and stared out at the gatherers. “Dearly beloved, today is a sad day,” he began.
Lavina snorted next to her, before grabbing a hanky from inside her purse. She dabbed at her eyes. “A very, very sad day.” She nodded. Despite her sarcasm, Elise saw some real tears.
CHAPTER 7
After the funeral, Lavina looped her arm through Elise’s. “Let’s skip the reception. I really don’t want to be interrogated by any old biddies wanting to know why my name was written on that note.”
“You got it,” Elise said. “How about a glass of wine instead? StarMart has a riesling on sale.”
Her friend flashed a smile. “You read my mind.”
They made quick work through the grocery store, procuring a few food items and the wine. At the last moment, Elise added a couple cans of cat food.
Lavina pushed the cart up to the checkout and began unloading it onto the conveyer belt. Besi
de them, an array of candy bars practically waved at them like happiness banners on a rack. Her stomach rumbled. She reached for one, feeling like a six-year-old kid about to sneak into the cookie jar. Her eyes caught sight of the purple Fitbit on her arm, and she groaned. “Don’t want it all to be for nothing,” she muttered.
“What, honey?” Lavina asked.
“Nothing. Just trying to be good is so hard.”
Lavina arched an eyebrow. “That’s what I always say.” She smiled decadently.
“How are y’all doing this morning?” The older blonde cashier smiled at them as she scanned the first item with a beep. Her nametag said, “Home of excellent service, I’m Annie.”
“Good.” Both ladies nodded.
“Been such a strange week, don’t you think? It’s just so mysterious about poor Herman.” Annie shook her head before scanning another item.
“Herman?” Elise lifted out the case of water bottles.
“Hun, you can just leave that right in your cart,” Annie said. She waited expectantly until Elise returned it with a grunt.
“Oh my goodness.” Lavina’s eyes widened. “I totally forgot about the little guy.”
“Poor thing’s been missing since the day Cameron died. No one’s seen hide nor hair of him.” Annie ran the scanner over a can of green beans with no effect. Squinting, she peered through the bottom of her glasses at the bar code before slowly typing it in. The equipment at the StarMart was still from the 1980’s.
“Who’s Herman?” Elise whispered. Lavina turned to answer, but Annie butted in.
“You haven’t heard of Herman? Girl, hush your mouth. Where you been, under a bush?”
“I just got back to town.”
Annie frowned at her as if branding her a stranger. Then the lines on her face smoothed. “Oh, that’s right. You’re the one who married that lawyer fellow. So hoity-toity. How’s that going?” Her eyes glinted. She knew full well how it was going.