Death In The Garden

by Caroline Clemmons

  Our Sunday crowd was lighter than Saturday. Most people bought their supplies Friday or early Saturday to have all weekend to accomplish projects. Sundays were mostly lookers or people rushing in to gather supplies they’d underestimated, so it wasn’t demanding. Martha Quinn arrived and we rolled the tables of perennials outside. Those attracted impulse buyers as well as serious gardeners.

  Martha was a cheerful lady, rotund, with salt-and-pepper curls and a wide smile. She’d come to work for us a few months ago after I spoke to the local garden club. Fiftyish and a widow, she said she was feeling lost with her children moved away and her husband gone, but that she was too old to enter the job market. I gave her a trial and, fortunately for us both, she turned out to be a terrific employee.

  In the back, I saw one of the nurserymen swing open the gate to the landscape section, and I waved at him. Before customers came, the five of us started watering. Automatic sprinklers took care of the shrubs and trees overnight, but everything else required human assistance.

  As I sprinkled plants, I thought about Sharee Ormond’s family. How odd that no one mentioned their relationship to Rockwell. Perhaps Grandpa didn’t know, or had forgotten. Gigi would be a better source of information, and I planned to get her alone tonight—without Grandma’s shushing influence.

  Before I could break for lunch, the after-church business hit. It was two by the time I had a chance to pause. I sensed someone watching me and looked up.

  Kurt leaned against the doorjamb. He wore jeans and a short-sleeve T-shirt the deep blue color of his eyes. In fact, he looked good. Really good.

  My mouth went dry. “Come to arrest someone, detective?” It’s hard to come up with snappy repartee when hormones shut down the brain.

  He straightened and strolled toward me. “Maybe.” He hesitated and swallowed. “Since Turrentino’s is closed on Sundays, I thought you might like to go into McKinney for dinner tonight.” It came out in a rush, as if he had to say it fast or chicken out.

  “I’d love to, but tonight’s Nana Cameron’s seventy-fifth birthday party. She’s had some heart problems, and we want to make a big fuss over her this year.” Darned family responsibilities. I wanted to go out with him, and not just to talk about Rockwell’s murder.

  He looked disappointed too.

  In a moment of madness, I said, “You could come with me—if you have nerves of steel.”

  He struck a Superman pose. “Former Marines who are now homicide detectives definitely have nerves of steel.” He relaxed and said, “You sure I won’t be intruding?”

  “There’ll be so many people everyone will think you’re a relative of someone else.”

  A slow grin spread across his face and lighted his eyes. “Then I’d love to. What are the particulars and what time should I pick you up?”

  “We close at five on Sundays, then I’ll rush up to change. We need to be there at six, but it’s only a few blocks away. No presents, only cards.”

  Two customers came in, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson.

  He looked at them, then said to me, “I’ll see you about a quarter of six.” He left and I heard his car wheels crunch against the gravel as he drove away.

  Mrs. Patterson watched him leave then turned to me. “Is that your young man, Heather?”

  I shook my head. “Too soon to tell.”

  ***

  What had I been thinking to invite a man I hardly knew to a family party? Of course, if he knew me well enough to know my eccentric and rowdy family, he might not have accepted. Kurt arrived at my door at 5:45 sharp. He’d changed into gray slacks and a blue plaid cotton shirt that made his gorgeous eyes a deep blue. I asked him in then hurried to my tiny kitchen, really only one end of the living room separated by a breakfast bar. I slid my tortellini marinara into a carrier.

  He prowled around my living room looking at everything. “Nice place. Compact but welcoming.”

  His compliment pleased me. Yin and Yang, with their usual lack of enthusiasm for anything but food, rubbed against his slacks then jumped back onto their favorite window seat.

  “Sorry.” I handed him the sticky roll of pet-hair remover. When he’d brushed off the cat hairs, I traded the sticky roll for Rascal’s leash. “Would you snap the lead on Rascal? I always take him to Nana’s, so we’d better take my car and spare yours the dog hair.”

  “Not necessary. A few dog hairs never hurt. Besides, that’s what car vacs are for.” He stopped as I picked up a gift bag. “Hey, you said no gifts.”

  “She’s my grandmother. Maybe five people there will give her a gift. A few will have cards and others bring nothing.”

  “Others? As in how many others?” Was that panic in his nice blue eyes?

  “Don’t go all cowardly on me now, detective. Remember those nerves of steel?”

  “I was also a Boy Scout. Just trying to be prepared.” He grinned as he took the casserole carrier and led Rascal to the door then held it open for me.

  “Thanks. Another set of hands is helpful.” I locked the door behind us.

  He went ahead of me down the steps. Grandma would have approved. “You don’t have an alarm system?” Rascal tugged on him so hard I wondered Kurt didn’t take a tumble.

  “You have my alarm on a leash. Never even had a prowler though.”

  He opened the back door of his spotless car and Rascal hopped in as if he rode with him every day. Kurt opened the passenger side door and I climbed inside.

  He took the gift bag from me. “I’ll put the gift and food in the cargo space. Your casserole smells too good to share with Rascal.”

  When he climbed behind the wheel I gave him directions and we were underway.

  “What’s in the casserole dish?”

  “I begged some of Uncle Rico’s tortellini and used his recipe for marinara sauce. Well, it’s close to his. You know, from Turrentino’s?”

  “I didn’t realize Rico was your uncle. Hard to compete with a professional chef.”

  “You have that right. Especially since he leaves out ingredients when he shares a recipe. I added a couple of herbs I think fit, but it’s not like his.”

  Kurt laughed. “I guess he has to protect his business.”

  “So he says. Listen, Kurt, when I saw Walter yesterday, he remembered something.”

  He looked at me long enough to ask, “Yeah?”

  “He remembers falling now, getting up on his hands and knees and hearing laughter.”

  “He think someone pushed him?”

  “No, I asked him that. He’s sure he fell, but he said the laughter came from behind him.”

  “Nice to know, Heather, but it doesn’t help with witnesses.”

  Knowing that, I sighed. “At least he wasn’t in a fight with someone. He really did fall. If only we knew who laughed at him.”

  “If only won’t help. He needs credible witnesses who saw him after midnight.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  He shook his head. “No, no, no. I’m working on it. You are out of the detecting business. Sell flowers and humor your grandparents. Either of those should keep you busy.”

  As if I’d butt out of something so important to Walter. I crossed my arms ready to burn Kurt’s ears with a reply, but we arrived at Nana Cameron’s.

  She lived in an older section of town in a sprawling one-story brick home. Her block of Mulberry Street was lined with parked cars. I saw Grandpa’s black sedan parked near the front walk. “I want to get Gigi alone and ask her about Rockwell’s relation to the Ormond family.”

  “Cousins,” Kurt said.

  “Have you talked to all of the Ormond family members?”

  “The daughter, Sharee.” He handed me Rascal’s leash. Kurt removed my casserole and gift bag from the trunk, and also hauled out a bouquet of flowers and a card.

  “You didn’t have to bring these, but I know Nana will appreciate them.” I recognized the floral wrap as the type from the grocery store. Nice gesture.

  He looked embarrassed, bu
t didn’t say anything. We were approaching a group of my cousins in Nana’s front yard.

  Miffed he’d beaten me to part of the Ormond information, I said, “That’s not all about the Ormonds, you know, but I’ll explain later.” Let him wonder about that.

  I introduced him around, and he seemed relieved that he’d already met two of my cousins.

  Ricky asked, “Say, how’s that murder investigation going? Anything new?”

  Before Kurt could answer, Uncle Rico said, “Yeah, we’re mad as hell at that sorry judge for denying bail. When you gonna let Walter go?”

  “Sorry, there’s nothing new I can tell you and it’s not up to me to release Walter. You’ll have to complain to the DA.”

  I told them, “You guys can talk later. Right now, I want Kurt to meet Nana and we need to get the food inside.”

  In the house, I let Rascal into the back yard. “Set the tortellini with the main dishes already on the dining room table. Desserts will be on the breakfast bar.”

  “Got it.” He scooted my Aunt Lorraine’s lasagna over a couple of inches to make room.

  From across the room, Gigi called, “Come here, young man, and let me look at you.”

  Heads swiveled to see the victim she’d addressed.

  Grandma rolled her eyes. Beside her, Nana looked as shocked as she usually did around Gigi. You’d think that after all these years as extended family, my genteel Nana would have grown used to Gigi’s outrageous nature. Although, I had to admit it was only in the last few years that Gigi had lost all inhibitions and said whatever she thought. I wondered what human defect caused social filters to evaporate in some older people. Of course, as long as I could remember, Gigi had been a free spirit.

  I kissed Gigi, Grandma, and Nana and gave Nana her gift.

  Kurt nodded to Grandma and Gigi and waited for an introduction to Nana.

  “Nana, this is Kurt Steele, the newest police detective in town. Kurt, this is my paternal grandmother, Kathryn Cameron.”

  “Welcome to Gamble Grove.” Nana offered her hand. “Charmed you could attend my party, Mr. Steele.”

  “Call me Kurt, please. Happy Birthday, Mrs. Cameron.” Darned if he didn’t plant a kiss on the back of her hand before he presented the flowers and card.

  “How gallant of you, Kurt.” The Southern belle in Nana gave a fluttery blush, and she appeared pleased. “You must call me Nana. Have you learned anything to clear Walter?”

  “Not yet, ma’am, but we’re working on it.”

  Nana’s hand fingered the cameo at her throat. “My son thought highly of Walter. I’m certain he’s an innocent victim in that horrible murder.”

  “I hope you’re right. We’re still checking every lead in the investigation.”

  Gigi poked his arm. “Now don’t be playing me false, young man, by flirting with Kathryn. Remember I saw you first.”

  “I certainly do. How are you, Gigi.” He took her hand and repeated his kiss.

  Gigi giggled. “Hot damn. I’ve seen more action since I met you than in the last year.”

  Nana shot Gigi a sly smile. All she needed was a fan to flick in front of her face to complete the impression she’d come from a different era. “Now, Elizabeth, don’t forget your beau, Mr. Willard.”

  They started on Gigi’s ongoing sparring match with Delbert Willard.

  With an annoyed glance at Gigi, Grandma asked, “Why don’t you put the flowers in water for Kathryn? I’m sure you can find a vase in the kitchen.”

  I took the bouquet and tugged on Kurt.

  He gave my grandmothers a slight bow. “Please excuse us, ladies.”

  In the kitchen, I said, “I don’t think the Marines taught those manners, so your mother must have done a great job.”

  “Grandmother. Spent two months with her every summer. Loved her but she pestered the hell out of me with what she called my ‘formal training.’ Now I’m grateful she insisted I learn things that at the time seemed incredibly stupid.”

  “I’ll bet.” I searched through the kitchen cabinet until I found a vase. “Now they’re giving college classes in etiquette for business majors.”

  “No kidding?”

  I filled the sink with water and dunked the flowers, then trimmed the stems. “Heard it on television. Part of the graduate business program at some universities.”

  “Guess more people need grandmothers like ours.”

  I looked at him and widened my eyes. “Maybe not like Gigi.”

  “Everyone needs a grandmother like Gigi.” He laughed.

  I stared at him. “Are you insane?”

  The evening went well, considering I saw everyone in the room giving Kurt speculative looks and figured he couldn’t miss all that furtive signaling. Knowing my family, they had us married by Christmas with six kids in as many years. Now what would that be like? I couldn’t help speculating myself, but I’d die before I let anyone know.

  My plan to offer Gigi a ride home then see how much she would tell me about the Ormond family had failed when she and my grandparents left early. Kurt had disappeared into the backyard with several of my cousins, so I helped tidy the kitchen.

  Aunt Clarice cornered me. “My, Heather, another young man tonight. This one is nicer but you’d better work fast. He was in the restaurant the other night with a young woman.” She raised her eyebrows knowingly and leaned close. “A blonde.”

  My aunt’s hair was dark like mine, and she thought blondes always had an inside track with men. Maybe she was right. “I was there, remember? She works in his office.”

  She patted my arm. “Tsk, tsk, so she sees him every day. Too bad, dear.” She sounded as if gaining Kurt’s attention was a contest and I’d already lost.

  Lisa called to me from the sunroom and I beat a hasty retreat from my aunt’s prying and sympathy.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I told Lisa, “Thanks for the rescue.”

  “Sounded like you were getting the third degree from Mom about the hottie?”

  “Yes, from her and everyone else who talks to me. You going to start too?”

  We stood at the windows overlooking the backyard where Kurt was talking with my male cousins. I hoped it was male bonding and not an inquisition. Kurt laughed at something my cousin Mark said and I relaxed.

  “I’m not hassling you. He’s a keeper though.”

  “You may be right. He’s easy to look at and has great manners. Even patient with Gigi.”

  “Gigi’s quite a test to pass.” Lisa laughed. “He always tips twenty percent.” She hesitated, then said, “The guy you were with the other night. The one giving you his slay-the-dragon story?”

  “His what?”

  She looked at me as if I were a kindergartner who hadn’t been paying attention. Since she was younger than me, it seemed unfair that she knew way more about men than I did.

  She giggled. “Ricky said all guys have a story they tell a girl on the first date. You know, one where they make themselves out to be like some knight rushing in to slay the dragon and lay it at the feet of the beautiful princess.” I must have looked askance because she added, “He swears they all do it. Load on the BS to impress us.”

  “I want to say right here that I resent everything about my life being repeated by all my family.” I held up a hand. “Oh, I believe what you’re saying, but is nothing sacred in this town? Can’t a person go to dinner with another person without every word spoken being broadcast throughout the family network?”

  She looked hurt. “Heather? He only mentioned it because he hated the guy and he was worried about you.”

  I sighed and hugged her. “Okay, I’m sorry. It’s just, well, sometimes, I wish no one in this town knew me. But then, I love nights like this when I can see all my family.”

  “So, you forgive me for speaking against your other date?”

  “Of course. Although, I think his story was at least partly true. He works for that big pharmaceutical company in McKinney.”

  She looked me
as if I were pathetic. “Come on, Heather. I heard part of what he said. That guy is going to single-handedly come up with a cure for poison ivy? Puhleeze. No credit to his research team or the hundreds before him?”

  I nodded, feeling naive. “Okay, when you’re right, you’re right. So what were you going to tell me about him and tipping?”

  “Rounded down to just under ten percent for Ricky.”

  That sent my anger boiling. Waiting tables is hard work and the pay is almost all in tips even if you don’t work for your parents. “That penny-pincher drives a fancy car and comes from a wealthy family.”

  She raised her eyebrows knowingly. “You know my theory.”

  I nodded again. Lisa knew all the cheapskates in town from waiting on them at her folks’ restaurant. Her theory was that you could tell a person’s character from the way he or she treated waitstaff. Anyone who was rude to servers was not to be trusted. Being light with the tip was almost as bad.

  I tended to agree. That didn’t bode well for Devlin and I was sorry. Well, pretty sorry, but then I spotted Kurt and my libido shut down my mind again.

  He came inside and I figured he was ready to leave this madhouse. We said goodbye to Nana, who was looking very tired. I wanted to shoo everyone else out, but most people were drifting away.

  Kurt started the car and drove away. “I remembered Clarice from the restaurant and figured out she’s Nana’s daughter. That’s about it.”

  “I’d explain all those other people, but you’d never keep them all straight without a chart. My dad was Clarice’s older brother. Lorraine’s the eldest. Sharon is between Lorraine and my dad.”

  “Got her too. The next generation is pretty much a blur except Lisa and Ricky from the restaurant.”

  “I thought when we drove up that you knew a couple of the cousins.”

  “But not which cousins go with which set of parents.” He parked near the stairs to my place. “Heather, thanks for asking me. You have a great family.” He sounded whimsical again.

  “Thanks for being so nice to my grandmothers.” Before I had time to think, I asked, “Would you like a walk in Grandma’s garden?”