by Abby Reede
She looked with raised eyebrows at Pastor Butler.
“Someone hit a nerve, Tracy. But I am not sure if it was you or me.”
They both laughed.
“Actually…” he continued, “I’d love the opportunity to work with In Season again. It used to be the best in town, but when Frank passed…well…”
He did not have to finish his thought for Tracy. As well, she thought she was detecting his tacit message that he was no fan of Becky White either, if you could read between the lines—though as one of the senior clergy in Fern Grove, Tracy knew he could never say so in as many words. He lowered his voice to a whisper.
“I have this feeling this new venture you and Rose are up to may indeed ruffle a few feathers in our little community. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing…but you did not hear that from me…
4
T racy arose well before the sun on Monday and scratched absent-mindedly at Sydney, who seemed overjoyed at having had her home for the entire night. He purred and snugged up against her body as she delayed as long as she thought she could get away with, giving the cat some much needed attention before having to dash out and brace herself for the grand opening. She was wiped out from all the long hours and stress that she and Rose had been subjecting themselves to, but even as she yawned and stretched, her muscles sore in some spots and tight in others, Tracy was not worried.
She knew with her aunt’s reputation and strong business presence in Fern Grove, as well as her loyal and dedicated network of friends, that In Season was soon to be back. Sydney stretched out, making his naturally soft and gray form even longer as he begged for just a few more minutes of his owner’s time. Tracy smiled at his antics as he licked affectionately at the back of her hand as her fingers played along his back and head and sides.
“OK, pal…” Tracy said as she got up on her elbows and looked out at the still dark skies of Fern Grove, “got to go, but I promise I’ll be around more for you now.”
Sydney batted his eyes at her and just shoved his head under her hand again, his well-honed ploy that Tracy recognized, to keep her where she was. If only…Tracy mused to herself. It was time. This was going to be magnificent! She could feel it in her bones and she was as excited for herself as she was for Rose. It had been a dry spell for her aunt since Frank had passed and though they were not neglectful, she knew the physical absence of her kids had fed into her apathy as well. This was, Tracy was betting, just the spark to get her aunt back up in the saddle again and as lively and engaged as she had remembered her from when she was a young kid hanging around the shop.
She gulped a cup of coffee and set out food and water for Sydney before heading out the door and over to In Season. Tracy guessed she could have driven over, as the location of the shop was not just next door, but the brisk stroll was a chance for her to prepare mentally and emotionally for the opening of the doors. It also gave her the opportunity to reflect on any minor details she might have overlooked as well as to revel in her anticipation of the thrill of having been able to work side by side with her aunt…to help her when she had needed her most. The sun was just peeking over the horizon as Tracy neared the shop and a few lights were already on inside as she saw Rose busying herself about the various displays and arrangements.
She paused just a quick minute as she watched Rose scurrying about, light on her feet and moving with a grace and panache that made her appear years younger than she was. Tracy did not linger any more, though, as she did not want Rose thinking she was spying on her. She eased through the front door and greeted her aunt with a cup of coffee she had picked up on her way over.
“Just what the doctor ordered, Tracy!” Rose exclaimed as she took the proffered cup with pleasure.
“Are we ready to go?” Tracy asked as she beamed at her aunt, whose skin was glowing with a radiance she had not seen in years either.
“Think so, but you’re the boss…you see anything we missed?”
Tracy shook her head as she glanced around the gleaming new shop. Just then, there was this light, but regular rapping at the front door. Tracy looked up to see Tiffany and motioned for her to come on in. Tracy had filled in her aunt on the offer she had made to the girl and after some brief introductions, they got her an apron and laid out a rough game plan for the day. Tiffany smiled, but they could both see she was nervous. Rose went and put her arm around her shoulder and eased her mind.
“You’ll be great, Tiffany. Just be yourself…you know, smile, chat up the customers, make sure they feel at home. You’ll be a natural…”
Tracy beamed at how Rose had taken over—just like old times, she thought.
“What if they start asking questions about the flowers and stuff?” Tiffany asked. “Not exactly my forte…”
“Just come get me or Aunt Rose if you feel like you are getting in over your head, Tiffany,” Tracy added, “it’s not rocket science and this is just Fern Grove. You already know most of the people anyway and they know you. Your personality and smile will take care of the rest.”
She nodded her understanding and wandered off to familiarize herself with the layout as Rose and Tracy talked quietly together as the hour for opening the door was coming on. The sun rose over the tree tops and filtered into the shop as Rose went and unlocked the door and hung up the “Now Open” sign in the window. It was not exactly a mad rush, like a crowd attacking the opening of a store on a Black Friday sale at the holidays, but before they knew it there was a steady and constant stream of people coming and going through the entrance. Both Tracy and Rose welcomed familiar faces as well as some new ones as In Season was abuzz with activity it had not seen in a long, long time.
They were talking and laughing and interacting with the crowd nonstop before Tracy had a chance to look up and see how Tiffany was faring. She had never doubted it, but even from afar she could see the girl’s natural outgoing and extroverted personality making it look like she were a seasoned veteran in the florist business. Tiffany caught her eye and gave her an enthusiastic double thumbs up and a smile. In a concerning moment, Rose spotted some customers and wondered if the faces she did not recognize were defectors from Blooming Bouquets or perhaps close associates of Becky’s sent to perhaps check out the gala event and report back, but there was nothing negative in their manner that suggested any underlying problems.
The whole day was coming off just as smooth and issue-free as Tracy had predicted, and Rose felt better than she had in many months. But that all changed when she glanced up, hearing the bell announcing a new customer, to see John White, Becky’s husband waltzing in. She knew as well as anyone in Fern Grove that John was the mirror opposite of his wife in both personality and class, but all the same his mere presence gave her pause. Tracy had seen him enter as well and excused herself from the small group she was talking with to make sure this was not some confrontation organized by Becky to disrupt the grand opening.
“John!” Tracy exclaimed as she floated over to where he and Rose were standing. “What a pleasant surprise! We sure were not expecting you today, what with us competing with Becky and all.”
In his regularly low-key manner, John smiled and gestured that her concern was unfounded.
“Just wanted to come by and see what the new place looked like. The whole town is buzzing over the grand opening!”
If this had been anyone but John—especially if this had been coming from his wife—Tracy would have been cynical enough to not fall for the comment. But she knew John White and the last thing John was, was his conniving and devious wife. John was definitely all that you saw…nothing more, nothing less.
“What do you think?” Rose asked as she handed him a drink.
“I must say.” John replied, “it is quite impressive and I really love that carnation display you are using as your centerpiece attraction… it is such a nice touch!”
“How nice of you to say, John!” Rose said as she beamed and looked to Tracy.
“No, really….I mean it…I’
m not just saying that to be nice.”
He then looked both ways and motioned for Rose to come closer.
“In fact,” he continued in a barely audible whisper,” I think it is by far a more attractive and alluring arrangement than what Becky has out. But if you quote me, I’ll deny I ever said it…”
The sparkle in his eye and the quick grin on his face let them know nothing was meant in malice—he really did love it. All three of them laughed lightly. Knowing his depth of character and honesty, Rose decided to press him.
“Where is Becky anyway, John? We were hoping she might stop by as well to see the new place and maybe give us a thought or two.”
Tracy covered her mouth with her hand to hide the smirk based on their recent interaction with Becky, of which she was sure John had no knowledge.
“Well…” John replied as his face suddenly morphed into concern and worry, “the thing is, I have not seen her for the last day or so. But she often has to take off at the drop of a hat with no advance warning to meet with suppliers or pick up fresh stock. I’m guessing it was an emergency or she would have let me know.”
Tracy and Rose nodded in sympathy wondering how you lived with someone as nasty as Becky White, who could not even be bothered to keep you apprised of her comings and goings. It was a well-known fact in Fern Grove that the Whites’ marriage was rocky, to say the least, and they both were sure this was part of it as well. After Becky had left In Season on Friday in a snit, they feared she had perhaps let her anger and frustration spill over onto her husband.
“Anyway,” John continued, shaking off his dark mood, “just wanted to see the new shop and wish you all the best!”
John turned to walk away when a louder than average entrance began and all heads turned to see Roger Fullerton bound in, hand in hand with a stunning redhead in tow. He acknowledged the crowd, but Tracy was in the dark. His manner and style were over the top to her, but from the reactions of everyone in the shop, he sure seemed to be someone of high regard as he laughed a bit too loud and carried on just a bit too flamboyantly for Tracy’s taste. She had known men like this in the financial world back in Portland; trying too hard to be noticed and make sure they were the constant centers of attention.
“Who’s the suit?” Tracy asked quietly as she stood with Rose and John.
“Oh, that’s right,” John whispered, “you left town before Roger arrived. Roger Fullerton. He runs the largest events management company around now. Used to spend a ton of money with Becky in the past. Deep pockets, but he is definitely high maintenance.”
“Used to?” Tracy asked innocently.
“Yep. He is, in my opinion, all about appearances and image. We had a big contract with him last year and he still blames Becky for the loss of one of his primary clients. If you are interested, I’d talk to him. He’d be a real feather in your cap—at least financially—and a good way to kick off your new shop.”
Tracy was not so impressed, but she never tried to take anyone else’s word or opinion of anyone as gospel. She liked to make up her own mind, even though she considered John a pretty solid source. Rose remained quiet throughout this whole episode.
“You know this guy, Aunt Rose?”
“A little. Frank and I tried to work with him a few times, but we just could not provide the volume and the prices he was interested in. He liked our quality, but it just never worked out.”
Tracy nodded. Oh well, she mused, as she moved to greet Roger, willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But as soon as she introduced herself, Roger looked over her head and spotted Rose in the background.
“There’s the woman I came to see!” he bellowed as he strode away from Tracy and his companion and went toward her. “Rose Bishop, as I live and breathe! If I could have everyone’s attention, please?”
The room went silent, and Tracy was beginning to see what John had meant as all heads turned to hear Fullerton speak. It was early, but she was already developing a strong dislike of the man.
“You all know me and my company, of course.” Fullerton went on as all eyes were trained on him. “I’ve been doing business in and around Fern Grove for years, even as far back as when In Season was still a fledgling but impressive young enterprise. Both Frank and Rose offered some of the best flowers and customer service that could be expected here. We tried to develop a relationship back then, but my scale was just beyond their scope at that time. I have gone elsewhere since, but as more than a few of you are well aware of, being bigger and newer is not always the key to a successful long-term relationship in the events management biz.”
He looked directly at John as he said this.
“But I never forgot them. The new In Season seems to me to be everything you could hope for in this regard and I would recommend that you good people keep that in mind when considering floral needs in the future. I know I will be seriously considering passing the majority of my needs for florist services their way now and I hope I am not alone. Thank you!”
Tracy and Rose just stared dumbfounded at one another as Fullerton acknowledged the hearty applause and recognition to his speech. On the surface she guessed it seemed like a genuinely honest endorsement, but something in her gut told Tracy that the oration was more about Fullerton than it was about In Season. And as she looked to John, she could not miss the dejected and sad countenance on his face as he had to endure the public shaming of Blooming Bouquets. But before she could go to John and console him or even thank Fullerton for his kind words—even if they had been all about him—Emily Maher burst through the door, slamming it roughly into the table just behind it, screaming hysterically at the top of her lungs.
“You killed her!” she yelled wildly as she pointed her finger accusingly at Rose and Tracy.
“We killed who, Emily?” Rose asked as Tracy looked on with a furrowed brow.
“You know very well who I mean, Rose! You and your little niece there killed Becky! You knew you could never compete with her head to head, so you did what you had to…you knocked her off to eliminate your competition!”
The room had gone so silent that you could have heard a pin drop as Emily Maher collapsed in a heap of tears and anguish. After they got Emily back on her feet, and had calmed her to some degree, it was in fact discovered that her rantings and ravings did have some merit. Becky White was indeed dead, as some hikers had found her corpse at the foot of Lawson Cliff, her neck broken and her skull fractured. But as to who had killed her, that was still unknown…
5
O nce all of the shock and public reactions to the announcement of Becky White’s death had died down, people began to wander out of In Season. In twos and threes and other small bunches, they all theorized wildly as to what might have happened. Despite Emily’s loud and accusing pronouncement that Rose and Tracy had killed Becky, there was in fact no one yet who knew exactly what had happened, even the Fern Grove police. If a survey had been done at the moment, no one would have admitted to being particularly upset or overwrought at the revelation, but all the same, this kind of crime—if indeed that was what it was—just did not happen in Fern Grove. The idea that perhaps Becky might have committed suicide was actually suggested, but then laughed off the table when even Jerry Clark, the local handyman, who had brought it up, just as a possibility, realized this was as unlikely as pigs flying.
As the group containing Jerry walked away from In Season and discussed it, the comment from a woman in the pack pretty much summed up how ridiculous that notion was for them:
“Becky White? Suicide? Please…with that ego and over-blown self-image? Never! I am sure the police will consider it—just because they have to—but does anyone in Fern Grove really think that is even an option?”
Laughter rippled among the group at the comment, despite it being perhaps in poor taste. The woman had not really meant it in malice or meant to be disrespectful of the dead or mean-spirited, but just saying what everyone else was thinking. Becky White’s reputation and legacy followed he
r even in death, it seemed. With the day waning, and the community seeming to have been distracted by recent events, Rose looked at Tracy and her niece just nodded.
“Yeah, Aunt Rose…” she said as she sighed, “let’s call it a day.”
Rose nodded and got Tiffany to help her put away the perishable flowers in the large cooler in the back. They then prepared to shut down the shop for the night, figuring there would not be much point in trying to stay open any longer. Tracy was still reeling from finding out about Becky’s demise—despite her personal feelings—and could not imagine who—if anyone—would have actually killed Becky, though she was sure the potential list might be long and winding. Not that the police in Fern Grove were Barney Fife clones, but for sure this investigation was likely to be a bit over their heads. She did not envy them this task.
“Can I buy our staff a cup of coffee over at Grind It Out?” Rose asked as she and Tiffany joined Tracy at the front door.