For the Love of Flowers

by Kelsey Hodge

When we open the door to the shop, we’re hit with the perfume of flowers. It’s rather intoxicating, and it’s easy to see why. In front of us, there are at least six aisles with boxes and boxes of flowers going to the back of the shop. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many flowers in my life.

  A worker wearing sturdy blue jeans, crisp white shirt, covered with a green apron greets us at the entrance. His nametag reads Sam in the same gold lettering as the awning in the corner.

  “Welcome to Joe’s Flower Wholesaler, how can I help you today?” Sam asks.

  I shoot a glance at Liam and raise an eyebrow. That’s quite a welcome. I expected it to be a little rough and ready and not so, well, upmarket.

  I flash my badge. “I’m Detective Johnson, and this is my partner Detective Smith. Is the manager available please?”

  Sam’s face pales “Um, yeah, one second, please.”

  He turns and walks quickly to the back of the shop. We can hear a knock on a door at the back. From our position, we can’t see, but we can listen to voices. We hear Sam first saying, “Hey boss, there are two detectives at the front of the store asking for you.”

  Then a second replying, “Thanks, Sam. Let them know I’ll be right with them.”

  Sam is back a moment later and advises that the manager will be right with us.

  We must have been left waiting for about five minutes when we hear a door open, and a man appears in front of us. He’s wearing a carbon copy of Sam’s outfit, except his apron as has the words, ‘The boss’ and underneath that ‘Joe.’

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen. What can I do for you today?” Joe asks.

  Liam takes the lead, which is the standard way we do things; he’s less intimidating.

  “Good afternoon, sir. We have a warrant to research your records,” Liam explains.

  Joe doesn’t look surprised, which I find strange. Two cops turning up at your business with a warrant should raise an eyebrow. Joe is way too calm for my liking.

  “Please, call me Joe. Can I ask what records the warrant is for?”

  “Of course, Joe,” Liam replies with a smile. “We’re investigating the Fiore Rosso ship and are looking at the shipments coming into the US.”

  The look that Joe gives us makes me think we won’t get a whole lot of information. But he’s wise enough to realize that if access is denied, he could come under suspicion. With a nod of his head, Joe leads us to the office in the back of the shop.

  The office turns out to be a smallish room at the beginning of a corridor leading to a door that must be a staff entrance. As we walk in, we face a desk with a chair on each side and some shelves filled with ring binders. Joe takes a seat behind the desk but faces the doorway we’re standing in.

  “The only documents I have are linked to orders I place for flowers. Not sure what use they’ll be. But I have orders going back several years, and you’re very welcome to look at them,” Joe says.

  “Thank you, Joe. That’ll be useful. We hope to find times when the Fiore Rosso enters the US not linked to orders.”

  I swiftly look at Liam. We had discussed what we would say as to why we were investigating the ship, but saying this is perfect; it pertains to the idea that the flower farmers are behind everything.

  For the first time since arriving, I ask a question, “Joe, when you order flowers, do you contact one farm or are there a few you’re in contact with?”

  Joe pauses for a brief second before answering, proving that we’re getting close to some vital information, but his recovery is quick.

  “I used to contact two farms in South America. About twelve months ago, the two companies merged. I considered looking for alternatives, but they offered the best selection and the best prices. It’s so much easier to go to one place.”

  He may not have realized it, but that piece of information will be invaluable. We might not be able to investigate the legal documents, but a merger this big must have made the press. That’s something we can look at as it’s in the public domain.

  If we can find out who the heads of these companies were, and if they’re still involved, it might give us the much-needed intel to link everything together.

  Joe pulls out some folders and places them in front of us. He makes an excuse to leave the office but tells us to take as long as needed. I have a feeling that’s a ruse, and he’ll try to contact someone. Looking at Liam, I see he’s thinking the same.

  I wait five minutes and with a silent nod to Liam, leave the office and almost immediately walk into Sam, who almost drops the box of roses he has in his hands.

  “Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I was wondering if there’s a bathroom I can use?” I quickly ask.

  “Yes, of course. Just go down the corridor, and it’s the last door on the right.” He points down the corridor

  “Thanks,” I say and make my way down to the bathroom, listening out. The bathroom is right next to the back door, and before I reach the door, I hear voices from the outside.

  “The cops are here,” I hear Joe saying. I lean in closer to make sure I can listen to as much as I can. “They’re asking after the Fiore Rosso.” He’s talking to someone important and lean closer. I might learn something vital. Suddenly, the conversation ends with a quick, “Okay, boss.”

  I quickly jump into the bathroom and close the door, as Joe enters from outside. Luckily, I don’t think he saw me. To make sure, I wait about two minutes, flush for good measure, and leave.

  When I reach the office, I see Joe is back with us and going over the files with Liam.

  “Sorry, bathroom break.”

  Liam has about three folders in front of him, which he picks up and turns to Joe. “We’re going to take these folders. They aren’t recent, so it shouldn’t be detrimental to the business.” With that, Liam gets up and passes the folders to me. Raising an eyebrow at him, the response makes me smile. “What? I’m driving.”

  Turning to Joe, Liam holds out his hand. “Thank you for your cooperation today, Joe. We’ll be in touch.”

  Joe shakes his hand and then turns to shake mine, which I do. Once back in the car, I voice what I heard while on my ‘bathroom break.’

  “Joe was talking to someone. There’s something here, and that ship is important.”

  Liam nods his head in agreement. “I think you’re right. These folders should provide us with the information about who the owners are and the origin city.”

  “Let’s make our way back to headquarters, look over the files, and cross-reference them with what we already have,” I say.

  The journey back to headquarters seems to take forever. For the first time since we started this case, we might be getting somewhere. When we reach our desk, I place the folders on Liam’s desk with a smirk.

  “You were looking at the historical records. I’m sure you can cross-reference.”

  “Why, you’re too kind!” Liam says sarcastically “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll do some digging into Joe. I don’t think he’s the owner, and I want to find out who is.”

  For the next few hours, Liam digs into the folders, and every now and then, I see him reaching for one of our files, scanning it, placing a finger on a spot, and then looking down at one of the folders from Joe’s, looking between the two, and making a note. Whereas, I’ve spent hours going through the federal government website. At first, it shows as Joe being the owner, but on closer inspection, I see a silent partner. I need to find out who.

  “You find anything, Liam.”

  “I think I might’ve. I traced the ship back to a flower farm in Costa Rica. Nothing looks out of the ordinary until I dig into the owners and discover a silent partner.”

  “I’ve found the same with Joe’s,” I tell Liam. “I bet that silent partner is the same for each of these companies. We need to find out who it is.”

  “There’s something else. If I’m right, a ship has left Costa Rica and is due in the US in about two weeks.”

  With this news, it’s tim
e for me to voice my concerns to Liam about Lorenzo. I need him to investigate the florist shop; I don’t have the guts. I’m too worried about what I might find, knowing full well I won’t like it.

  “Liam, I want you to look into Lorenzo too.”

  The shock on Liam’s face doesn’t come as a surprise. I may as well jump in and tell him what I know. I have a terrible feeling in my gut.

  “I haven’t told you this, but when I went to the burial, Lorenzo was there, standing with Alfredo Romano and his wife. He never mentioned attending anything to me. Even if he did the flowers, why would he be there and why would he be standing with them?”

  As expected, Liam jumps to defend him. “Maybe he knew Tony. You know how close knit the Italian community can be. We know the death wasn’t recorded as suspicious, so it would be another burial to him.”

  “That’s what I thought at first, but something isn’t sitting right with me. I warned him this morning that Romano was dangerous, and he seemed to blow me off. He said that they had only ever been nice employers to him. He was a little too quick to defend.”

  “I’ll look into it, Wyatt, but I think you’re wrong. You’ll hate yourself once I prove it.”

  “Liam, I hope you’re right,” I say solemnly.

  For the next hour, we sit in silence. I scour the public record website looking into Joe’s Flower Wholesaler. The company has been going for almost seventy-five years, and it has never changed hands. I’m about to give up when I discover a record from when the company was first registered. It names a silent partner as Roberto Romano. They transferred this partnership to his son on his death.

  Next, I investigate the flower farm in Costa Rica, which is a little bit more difficult due to the company being in South America. But with a lot of digging, I finally find the details, and they virtually match Joe’s Flower Wholesaler. Even when the merger took place, there was a special requirement that the silent partner wasn’t allowed to be removed. I need to find the name of Roberto Romano’s son.

  This search, thank goodness, doesn’t take me as long. I soon find that Roberto’s son is Alfredo Romano. Just as I make this discovery, Liam pipes up with a question that throws me off completely.

  “Wyatt, what is Lorenzo’s last name?”

  “Ricci. But you know this. Why?” The feeling in my gut gets worse.

  There’s a slight hesitation before Liam replies, “I’m not sure how to tell you this, but I think you might be right. Lorenzo isn’t who he says he is.”

  Trying to remain calm, I simply say, “Tell me.”

  “First, I searched for a Lorenzo Ricci as an employee of Romano’s Flowers and found nothing, so I searched on the name and found all the normal social media sites but nothing else. I decided to search for the ownership of the shop.”

  He pauses again here. I won’t like what comes next, but I edge him on anyway. “And?”

  “Romano’s Flowers is owned by the son of Alfredo Romano. I’m so sorry, Wyatt, but you were right. He’s a Romano. In fact, Lorenzo is Alfredo’s son.”

  Just like that, my world collapses.

  Chapter 9 – Lorenzo

  >We need to talk

  I look at my cell for what feels like the hundredth time, rereading the text from Wyatt, the dread in my stomach intensifying. From the moment I read it, I know something has happened. It’s so blunt. I had thought to reply but decided not to. Even if I did, I wouldn’t get a reply. On this occasion, I would have to wait and pray I’m wrong.

  Ten minutes later, I hear the key in the door. The moment Wyatt walks in, I know I’m right. Something is very, very wrong. His face is pale, and his worry lines are edged at the side of his eyes. He looks awful. I walk straight up to him, holding my arms out to him.

  “Wyatt, you look awful. What’s wrong?”

  He sidesteps me and refuses to look at me. Oh shit. He must have worked out who I am. It’s the only rational explanation for his behavior.

  Wyatt makes his way to the window and stares out, his entire body rigid with tension.

  “What’s going on, Wyatt? You’re scaring me.”

  I’m again met with silence, but Wyatt turns to me and gestures to the table before turning back to the window. He must be thinking carefully about what he’ll say to me.

  I sit at the table and wait for him to join me, wondering what the hell will happen. Looking at his current behavior, today won’t end well.

  Wyatt eventually sits opposite from me, yet he still can’t look me in the face. After what seems like an eternity, he finally speaks, and the question he asks is straightforward and to the point. I’m shocked by his voice; it’s utterly devoid of all emotion, and it sends a chill down my spine.

  “Who are you?”

  I decide to play dumb for a second. “You know who I am, Wyatt. What is all this?”

  Wyatt slams his fist on the table and yells, “Don’t fuck with me, Lorenzo. Tell me who the fuck you are.”

  The venom behind these words surprises me. It’s not like Wyatt, and I never expected this level of aggression. It’s almost like he hates me and yet I still play dumb.

  “Wyatt, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  This time, Wyatt looks up at me, and the anger coming from his eyes shocks me to my core. I’ll have to be honest if there’s any way to save what we have, if it can be saved at all.

  I see him shaking with anger coursing through him, but still, he asks again, “Who the fuck are you, and I want the fucking truth?”

  I take a deep breath and say, “My name is Lorenzo Romano.” The man sitting across from me sags, like the weight of the world has landed on his shoulders.

  “You fucking lied to me and have been lying to me for two fucking years.”

  What the hell am I supposed to say to that? He’s right, but I have my reasons. I need to explain these to Wyatt and hope he understands, so I try for the simple explanation.

  “Yes, I did, but I have excellent reasons.”

  “Well, you better fucking explain those reasons, now!”

  Wow, Wyatt’s bluntness is hard to deal with. I’ve seen this side of him. I’ve dealt with him when he’s frustrated, especially when dealing with me being in the closest, but this almost meanness is something else. I still cannot tell him the whole truth, not yet anyway.

  I look at him and honestly say, “I have no idea where to start.”

  His response to this is instant, “At the fucking beginning would be a good idea.”

  I take a couple of deep breaths to steady my nerves and then jump in.

  “I always knew I was different from an early age but didn’t know how much so until I got to high school. When all my friends were talking about the girls in the class or the cheerleaders, I was looking at the football team or the boys in my class.”

  I chance a look at Wyatt whose expression hasn’t changed, so I continue, “I was so confused until I realized I was gay. I knew this was something I would have to keep to myself. Even at fourteen, my parents drilled into my head that my future was marriage and children to continue the family name. There was no way I could tell them I liked boys.”

  I get up from the table and head to the fridge to get two bottles of water. I put one in front of Wyatt, who looks at it like it’s about to explode. I retake my seat, opening my bottle, and take a big gulp, feeling the cold, refreshing liquid travel down my throat, and I continue.

  “I dated a few girls while going through school, to appear like everyone else, but nothing ever lasted more than a few dates. Of course, questions were always asked, but I would always made an excuse about why it didn’t work out. After a while, I stopped asking girls out. It was easier to say I was concentrating on school. I’d always loved flowers, so I decided that I wanted to become a florist. I took on some extra classes, and unlike my friends who were eager to leave home and go off to college, I attended a local community college as it offered courses I was looking for. College life was easier. I met some guys. It was good, and yet I
still knew I needed to stay in the closest. Four years later, I completed my diploma, but I knew I wanted to work for myself. I got a start-up business loan and opened Romano’s Flowers. I worked my ass off for the next two years, and I paid that loan off. I worked so hard, dating was the last thing on my mind. I was happy to have the occasional hookup.”

  Wyatt knows I never had a serious relationship before him. Hearing about the hookups won’t surprise him, but I still steel myself for the next part of the conversation.

  “That’s pretty much how everything kept going for the next few years until you walked into my shop. There was something different about you, and I wanted you instantly for more than a hookup. That was a first for me, but then you told me you were a cop. I had planned to forget you. There was no way I could get involved with a cop, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind. So I came up with the idea that I would be Lorenzo Ricci. I thought we would only end up having one date, but we clicked, and I thought it best to keep the lie going. I guess you’ve been digging into my dad, and that’s how you know my name.”

  “Yep.”

  Suddenly, I’m the one getting frustrated, and it’s my turn to bang the table, making Wyatt jump.

  “For fuck’s sake, Wyatt, fucking talk to me. What are you thinking?”

  This outburst causes Wyatt’s head to snap up and for the first time, he looks me in the eye, and he’s furious.

  “What am I thinking? Are you fucking kidding me! I have no idea what I’m thinking. All I know is that you’ve been lying to me for two years. How can I believe anything you tell me?”

  I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t. I still am lying to him. Yes, he believes that Dad is dangerous, but he has no idea. He has finally linked the business, and Dad is the silent partner, but he hasn’t dug much deeper, so I cannot say anything that might give us away.

  “Wyatt, the only thing I lied about is my name and the fact that I own the business, not just work there.”

  The look on Wyatt’s face tells me he doesn’t believe me. He must have suspicions about the type of work Dad does, and I must be involved somehow, but he doesn’t say anything. He gets up from the table and walks to the bedroom. For half a second, I think about following him but decide that he probably wants some alone time. When he walks out a little while later, I think it’s to carry on talking until I see the bag in his hands.