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The Artist's Alchemy

Page 7

by Amorette Anderson


  “Yeah... we’re making progress.” I sighed. “I should probably get back to the center. The guests are probably waking up by now, and I’d like to go to the first lecture at eight. Are you two going to make it?”

  “Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Penny said. “And I don’t have anything else important going on today.”

  Turkey let out a plaintive yowl.

  “I know I have cleaning to do,” Penny said, “but that can wait.”

  He yowled again.

  “I know I’ve been saying that for weeks, but Turkey, this is important,” Penny said. “A man died at the retreat center last night. I have to help Marley figure out who killed him.”

  “Meow.” Turkey leapt off of the table and trotted across the stone basement floor ahead of us.

  “Excuse his attitude,” Penny said, with an eye roll. “He’s sort of cranky. He’s trying to get his PhD in psychology, on top of all he’s doing with his ad business, and he’s run up against some kind of issue with his doctorate work. I think he’ll be in better spirits soon.”

  She closed the library door. I waited while she locked it, and then we climbed the stairs to the first floor together.

  As we reached the entryway, Penny turned to me. “How’s it going with The Groover? Is he having a good time at the center?” she asked. “You think he’s going to promote the place for us when he gets back to LA, amongst the rich and the famous? That’d be pretty cool!” She grinned.

  “I think he’s having an okay time,” I said. “To be honest, I’ve been so caught up with Robert’s murder that I haven’t even talked to him.”

  “Oh... I talked to him. He even signed the side of my shoe!” She bent down and lifted one of her high tops off of the entryway floor. It had Gordon Groover’s signature scrawled along the white side of the sole in purple marker.

  “He signed your shoe?” I said. “Don’t you have a photo of The Groover singing with Cher? Why didn't you have him sign that?”

  “I forgot it,” Penny said. “I remembered a Sharpie marker, but I forgot the photo.” She chuckled. “Leave it to me, right? Like if I didn’t have my head sewed onto my neck then I’d probably—hey, wait a minute. Heads aren’t sewed onto necks, unless you’re like Frankenstein or something. Hey, that reminds me of this movie Max and I watched, where the—”

  “Penny, I love you,” I interjected, as I wrapped her in a hug and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for doing research with me at the crack of dawn. I really have to go.”

  “Right. Go,” she said. “I’ll be there soon. Maybe this time I’ll bring that photo for The Groover to sign.”

  I raised a brow.

  “And more importantly,” she said. “I’ll help you try to figure out who killed Robert. Gooo team!”

  I laughed. I had to. When it comes to Penny, sometimes there’s really nothing else to do.

  Chapter Seven

  I arrived back at the center at nine, just in time to see Margie exiting the building. She had a little bucket in her hands, and she was flying toward the greenhouse. She didn’t see me, but I watched her flutter over to the greenhouse doors, open them, and then disappear inside.

  The parking lot was still a minefield of puddles from the storm of the night before. Sunbeams from across the valley sparkled on their surfaces. Birds twittered from the surrounding trees, and though the sky was still cloudy, the sun was able to peek through and it glittered off of a few of the puddles.

  I heard a whooshing sound as Skili swooped down and landed on my shoulder.

  “Did you just see that?” she asked me telepathically.

  “What... Margie going into the greenhouse?” I asked.

  “No,” she said in her clipped, raspy tone. “Justin.”

  “Where?” I asked, looking around.

  “I just saw him slip behind the building,” she said. “Over there.” She pointed with her wing to the west side of the retreat center, near the deck.

  “I’ve been watching the east side, by the greenhouses,” I said to Skili. “I’m interested in talking to Margie. She’s on my suspect list.”

  “I see,” Skili said. She didn’t sound satisfied.

  “What’s up?” I asked her. “I’m not surprised Justin’s here. He’s probably eager to spend time with Gordon Groover. I told Justin he could participate in the workshops along with Gordon if he wanted to. It could be a cool way for them to bond.”

  “Then why isn’t he in the workshops, or with Gordon?” Skili asked, “He was alone.” She lifted one foot, placed it down, and then lifted the other. She adjusted her wings. She was antsy, I could tell.

  I sighed. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe he needed some fresh air.”

  “He’s been acting strange,” Skili observed.

  “I know,” I admitted. My eyes wandered over the edge of the woods to the west of the center, where Skili had reported that Justin disappeared into. “Was he moving fast? Like, with purpose?” I asked.

  “No, he was just walking,” Skili said. “He was on his phone. He looked over his shoulder. I think he saw you.”

  “But he didn’t wait to say hi?” I said. “That is weird.”

  She lifted off. “I’m going to go spy on him,” she said.

  “Skili—wait!” I called out with my mind. “That doesn't feel right. It’d be an invasion of his privacy. We can’t spy on him.”

  “Fine, then. I’m going to fly over the woods to the west of the building... looking for mice.”

  I didn't believe her. “But you don't eat mice anymore,” I said. “You’ve only been eating PB and Fluff sandwiches.”

  She flapped her wings and rose up higher in the air. She was headed west. “Maybe it will be my lucky day, and I’ll find a sandwich in the woods,” she said.

  I doubted that very much. I knew she was going to fly over Justin and try to overhear his phone conversation. I only hoped that she was planning on keeping a low profile. If Justin spotted her lingering in the trees above his head, he’d think I sent her. I didn’t want that. I already felt a nagging sense that something was off between Justin and me. I’d sensed it since the night before, when I saw him emerge from the woods. What was he doing out there? I kept trying to ignore the nagging uncomfortable sensation, but it wouldn’t go away. I didn’t want Skili’s actions to make things between Justin and me even worse.

  But what could I do? She was a stubborn bird, and I doubted that anything I said would change her mind.

  Not to mention, she was an extension of me.

  Her behavior proved that I really wanted to know what Justin was up to, and if I was honest with myself, that was definitely the case.

  I turned toward the greenhouse.

  I heard Margie humming to herself as she hovered above a potted plant that looked like a large purple cactus with silver thorns sticking out of it.

  I didn’t want to scare her, so I tapped on the glass and metal door that I’d just swung open. She looked up at me, smiled, and gave me a cheerful wave.

  She wore small gardening gloves on her hands. Over her usual house dress, which was black and red checkered today, she wore a white apron with ruffles, similar to the one Geoff had been wearing the day before, but much smaller. I vaguely remembered her telling me weeks before that she’d sewn them for her and Geoff to wear when they were working. Her silvery white hair, which was pulled back in a bun, had a handkerchief tied around it. Her glasses were propped up on her nose.

  The bucket she’d been carrying earlier was on the long table that ran down the middle of the room. A shovel was on the table next to the bucket, as well as a few empty pots and the towering, purple plant with silvery spikes jutting out of it.

  “Why, hello, Marley!” she said happily. “I’m just about to re-plant chunks of this BubbleBlob cactus!” she pointed to the purple plant.

  I walked toward her, and as I did, I looked around the space. The last time I’d been in the greenhouse it had been overrun with dying plants. That was back before I hired
Margie and Geoff. Now that they were helping out at the center, everything about the grounds was more cared for, including the greenhouse. I saw many varieties of vibrant plants around me. Some were flowering with bright fluorescent buds and blossoms. Others sprouted thick vines covered in lush green leaves, and as I walked, I could almost feel the vines growing with each passing second.

  “Care to lend a hand?” she asked me as she looked to the cactus. She picked up the shovel from the table and dug it into the cactus’s flesh. She kept twisting it until a chunk of purple-skinned, pink-fleshed cactus popped out. She lowered the drippy, juicy chunk of plant into a waiting pot. “We just need to cover each with dirt, and then in about six weeks, we’ll have a dozen more BubbleBlob cacti!” She sounded thrilled about this.

  I figured that working while I questioned her wasn’t a bad idea. Also, she clearly had a green thumb, and I was interested in learning more about magical plants and gardening in general. I reached for a nearby bag of potting soil, tipped it, and shook some out onto the pink glob that Margie had just placed in the pot.

  “I’m surprised you’re not at Asti’s lecture,” Margie said.

  “I... um... I have some other things on my mind,” I said.

  “The murder?” she asked. I heard her voice waver a little bit. I wondered why. “Have you had any luck tracking him down?” she asked.

  “Well... we don’t know that it’s a man,” I said. “It could be a woman. No—no luck yet.”

  “My, my,” she said. She plopped another chunk of BubbleBlob into a waiting pot. “I’m so sorry that you are dealing with this right now, Marley. You have enough on your plate with simply running the workshops. It’s terrible that this tragedy has added more stress.”

  I wanted to ask her about her whereabouts the night before, but I wasn’t sure how to put it without offending her. Before I could formulate my question in a way that wouldn’t sound too accusatory, she spoke up.

  “I worry about you, Marley,” she said. “I heard that you went up to the roof last night during the storm.”

  “Who told you that?” I asked.

  “Penny,” she said. “She told me the whole story. It was such a violent storm—all that thunder and lightning. And the killer must have just been there. How could you know he wasn’t there still?”

  I didn’t bother bringing up the fact that it could have been a woman again. Instead I said, “Luckily, I had Skili’s help with that. She told me the coast was clear.”

  “But still, she could have missed something. She’s not perfect, you know. None of us are.”

  Plop. Another juicy chunk of cactus rolled from her shovel into a pot. I was getting behind, so I hurriedly patted down the soil in the one pot I’d filled, and then moved on to the next.

  She went on. “As your fairy godmother, it’s my job to—” she began.

  I cut her off. I set down the bag and looked right at her. “Margie, we need to talk about that,” I said. “I don’t really think I need a fairy godmother. I’m kind of an independent person. I like my space. Even Skili gives me plenty of space, and she’s my familiar. I like to do things on my own schedule, in my own way, and—”

  “Nonsense.” She fluttered to the top of the cactus and jammed the spade into an untouched part. It seemed like an unnecessarily violent jab to me, but maybe that was just because I was feeling a bit hyper-vigilant.

  “Everyone needs a fairy godmother,” she said.

  “But Margie,” I said, “What I really need help with—and what I hired you for—is to look after this center with me. This is a big undertaking, and I can’t do it alone. I really do need your help, but I want to be clear that I don’t need it personally. I mean, with my life. I need help with the Greene Center for Magical Living.”

  She was silent.

  I was worried that I’d offended her.

  “I love what you’ve done with these plants,” I said, to try to win back her cheerful attitude. I hated the thought of upsetting her. “I really value you, Margie.”

  She finally looked up at me. “Thank you,” she said. “That means a lot to me. It’s my purpose to care for you, Marley. I guess I’m still learning how to do that properly. I can’t help it if it worries me when you take risks. If you insist on running around in the dark when there’s possibly dangerous beings around, I do hope you’ll at least take some self-defense classes. That way you could protect yourself, and you wouldn’t need me.”

  “Self-defense?” I asked. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Muay Thai,” she said without hesitation. “It’s a type of combat boxing. I took it while I was in Thailand, studying massage. That was back when I was very young—about your age, actually—and I’ve practiced what I learned daily ever since. I’m a petite woman, and it’s helped me greatly in feeling more safe and secure in the world.”

  She looked at me. “Watch this,” she suggested. Then she flew right at the cactus and delivered a swift right hook. The top of the large, sturdy plant flew off as if it was a head that had been punched clear off.

  She looked right at me. “You see? My teacher, master Klahan of the Klahan Thai Boxing Gym taught me that. Don’t you want to learn to do it, too?”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said. I couldn’t help it that my voice sounded rather unenthusiastic. Learning to fight was not high on my list of things I wanted to do.

  I placed the shovel down. The sight of Margie decapitating the cactus made me more intent on getting information from her.

  “Margie,” I said. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but where were you last night at 5:15?”

  She stared at me, eyes wide. “Oh. I see,” she said. Then she went back to jabbing at the plant. The cacti made a sucking sound as she removed a glob of flesh. “That’s how it is.”

  I’d offended her.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m asking everyone. It’s nothing personal.”

  “Do you think I would kill another being?” she asked me. I saw hurt in her eyes.

  The truth was, I didn’t know. I’d only met her the month before. I knew she took her job seriously, and she thought that was to protect me and the center. How far would she go to perform her duty?

  “I know you wouldn’t,” I lied. “I’m just trying to piece together the events of the evening, and if I know where you were, that might help me get a better picture of what was going on.”

  This seemed to placate her. “I only want to help you, Marley,” she said. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble. Of course you want to know where I was.”

  She let the cactus blob tumble from her shovel into a pot. Then she flew over to a tall shelf along one of the greenhouse walls. “I was here, actually, tending to the peppermint plants. They’re highly energetic, and they need lots of attention. I sing to them daily.”

  She pointed to a row of happy looking plants with smooth, dark green leaves and pink flowers. They quivered as her hand passed over them, though she wasn’t touching them. They really did seem happy to have her attention.

  “Did anyone see you enter or exit the greenhouse?” I asked. “Or was someone in here with you?”

  She frowned. “Geoff was supposed to be here with me. He’s very good with the plants. He’s the one that came up with all of our potting mixes, you know. He has a sense of just the right ratio of minerals. These plants wouldn’t be looking nearly so good if it wasn’t for him.”

  “But he didn’t show up?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. No, he didn’t.” Her frown deepened. “Do you think he pushed that poor man from the rooftop?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. It felt good to tell the truth for a change. “Like I said, at this point, I’m just gathering information.”

  She flew back over to the cactus, and the peppermint plants wilted just slightly in her absence. “It was rather strange,” she said as she busied herself with the replanting again. “He said he would meet me here at four. We were going to work for a few ho
urs... We try to put in at least three hours every other day here in the greenhouse, you see. To keep it looking nice, you know.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “He never showed?”

  She shook her head. “No. And that’s not like Geoff. I assumed that something broke in the spa, possibly in the mud bath area—you know how much he cares about those baths.”

  “Yeah,” I said. I knew.

  “I imagined he was doing some kind of urgent repair,” Margie said. “I even considered leaving the greenhouse to go find him and lend a hand, but the peppermint plants were so sad that I had to stay and give them some love. When I caught up with Geoff later in the evening, I asked him if something had gone terribly wrong in the spa area, and he said not at all.”

  “Then why didn’t he meet you?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

  “He wouldn’t say,” Margie said. “He was quite secretive about it, actually. I thought it was very rude of him, not to have a legitimate excuse. But there was so much going on that I decided not to harp on it. I figured I could give him a little lesson in manners if he did it again. The first time was free, as they say.”

  “What time was it that you caught up with him?” I asked.

  “It must have been around eight,” Margie said. “Because I was cleaning up dinner dishes.”

  “Thank you,” I said again.

  “It’s a pleasure,” she said. “Really. I am so grateful for this job. I love it here at your center. I’d do anything for you, Marley.”

  I didn’t want to hear that. “Within reason...” I said.

  “Of course,” she said. “Within reason.” It didn’t sound convincing.

  She filled the last pot and then hoisted up the bag of potting soil. I realized too late that I’d been slacking on my duty of covering the cacti pieces with dirt.

  I lifted my hands. “Oh, let me do that,” I said. The bag looked heavy. But she wouldn’t let me take over. I could see her little biceps bulging, and she had a firm grip on the bag. She certainly was one strong little fairy.

 

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