Lethal in Lavender

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Lethal in Lavender Page 5

by Sarah Hualde


  She stuck out her tongue and investigated the injury, like a whiny child. In three more swallows, she regained her faculties. Lydia, Ethan, and Berna watched the transformation, their anxiety evaporating. "Sorry to worry you all. I'm fine. My medication knocks me out. The drinks help me fall asleep faster and stay asleep longer. Sleep is the only thing that gets rid of my allergies."

  Lydia perched on the edge of the bed relieved. “We’re sorry to wake you. But you scared us.”

  “Well, I wasn’t planning on having company. My thought was I’d shower, take my pills, and sleep until Averie’s ready to shoot her next video. We’re doing a shoot in the lavender tonight. Should be pretty.”

  Ethan glanced at Lydia and swallowed back his friendliness. Time for Sheriff Everett to emerge, “Averie will not make any shoot. Not tonight, anyway.”

  Maven chuckled, nervously. “Sure, she will. That girl made videos with bronchitis before. My hay fever won’t stop her. Besides, after a fantastic rest, I’ll be fine. Just like I told you.”

  “No, honey,” Berna spoke and then turned apologetic eyes toward Ethan.

  “They took Averie to the hospital in Ashton.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I found her near the racetrack.” Lydia added, “She wasn’t conscious.” Ethan reached out and squeezed Lydia’s arm. She was disclosing too much.

  “Why wasn’t she conscious? She doesn’t have allergies. Not like me. She could run in a field of bees naked and be fine.”

  Ethan cleared his throat. “We’re not sure what happened. Lydia found her during the 5k. The ambulance drove her to Ashton about half an hour ago. She should be there now.”

  “We’d like to take you to her if you’d like to go.”

  “I’d like to. And heaven knows I can’t drive like this.”

  Ethan smiled. “We’ll just step out and let you get dressed.”

  Berna left on cue. Ethan followed. But Maven snatched Lydia’s arm as she walked away. Lydia winced. She’d forgotten her hurt wrist.

  “Will you help me? I’m shaky. I’d feel better if you were in the room, just in case I get dizzy.”

  Lydia agreed and shut the door on Ethan's advising face. Why was he so cautious with Maven? Averie was her cousin. She should know what's going on. Maven took a shirt and jeans to the bathroom. She didn't bother to close the door. Lydia turned her back and tried to think of something to say.

  Maven chattered to herself. Sometimes she sniffled, but Lydia couldn't tell if it was sadness or snot she was snorting. The water ran and splashed. Maven came into the room, tossed back the rest of her coffee and flung her purse strap over her shoulder. Her eyes were wild, but she was shuddering less and less.

  "Let's go." She charged out of the room — a more aware Maven than when she opened the door.

  In the car, Lydia shifted her hoodie. The zipper felt cold and scratchy on her skin. Maven stared out the car window. Earbuds docked in their proper place and her phone perched on her lap. Palming a compact, Maven applied foundation and powder and fingered on some eye shadow. Lydia’s mother never left the house without her make-up. Maven must be just as fussy about her appearance.

  Ethan took Maven to Averie's side, and Lydia plopped down in an orange waiting room chair. A nurse passed as Lydia inspected her wrist. Splinters stuck from a puffy bruise. The nurse stood watching Lydia before turning to another nurse and pointedly talking about her. Lydia remembered her eye. Her hand flew instinctively to the injury, which only made her look more abused. Lydia smiled her most winsome smile at the nurses who smiled back with saccharin suggestions in their eyes. They’d be watching her and Ethan for the duration of their visit.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Two hours of waiting, filled with piteous looks from the staff, put Lydia on edge. Her churro energy left her. She slumped in the hard, plastic chair and dozed off. Her eyes fluttered open just as Kat Miller burst through the automated doors.

  “Praise the Lord!” Lydia snagged the green duffle bag from Kat’s arms. She also grabbed one of the coffee cups from Kat’s hands.

  “Hey!” Kat laughed, “How do you know one is for you?”

  Lydia swallowed the bitter elixir before answering, "Thad isn't with you, and the other cup has your lipstick on it."

  Kat rolled her eyes and followed Lydia to the public restroom. She waited near the sink while Lydia changed in a stall. The smell of lavender and peppermint escaped the water closet. Lydia sighed, serenely, with each clean article of clothing she put on. Gus’ jacket left a zipper print on her chest and stomach.

  She tucked her running shoes into the duffle and slipped on a pair of her loafers. Her heel and arches still ached, but they were pleased to be out of the treacherous apparel.

  Kat explained the families were still at the Lavender festival. “I believe the boys are watching the clock for the ice cream trolley to open. Berna is fussing around. She’s anxious she’s liable for whatever happened in the field.”

  Lydia swung the door open, a new woman in her fresh clothes. She went to the sink and washed her face. Her hair was next. Pieces of lavender stuck out from every knot and curl. “She’s not liable.” Lydia guarded her words. Ethan would not like her discussing matters with Kat.

  “Maybe Ethan or Gus could say something. She’s pacing the farm and fretting over every tiny thing. Only half the runners even suspect something weird happened on the track. The rest are already celebrating with their families, further inside the festival.”

  “How did you do in the 5K?”

  “Oh,” Kat poofed air out of her lips and waved a hand in the air. “26.35" The numbers meant little to Lydia, but a glance proved they meant a lot to Kat. Lydia remembered the other racer's chants of under 24.

  “Good for you. That’s good, isn’t it?”

  "Decent. It's not like I placed or came close to placing. Next year I'll do better. Next year, I'll make sure you finish the race." Kat chuckled. She didn’t mean to stab at Lydia's ego. Lydia's throat prickled with self-condemnation. She had tried, had done her utmost. How in Heaven could she have guessed she'd stumble upon a half dead celebrity in the middle of the field?

  "Someone dragged her," Lydia whispered as she fastened a huge clip around her messy bun. Some lavender dropped onto the sink and floor. Most of it remained wedged in Lydia's hair.

  Kat stared at her friend, with confused brows. “Dragged? Who was dragged? Not Averie?”

  Oops. Lydia picked up her purse in haste, slung her bags over her shoulders, picked up her coffee, and started from the restroom.

  “Oh no, Lydia, you can’t do that. Who was dragged?” Kat followed Lydia back to the hideous waiting area. Maven was there her face submerged into her hands. Lydia led Kat to the girl. Kat stopped her pleading and zoned in on the devastated young lady, just as Lydia hoped she would. “Maven, is there anything we can do?” Kat asked, touching Maven on the shoulder before sitting beside her.

  Maven didn't look at her comforters. She broke into shuddering nonsensical sentences. Lydia slid into the chair on Maven's empty side and wrapped an arm around her. Maven continued to cry.

  Kat uncomfortable, but sympathetic, hoped to soothe her with words but none came to mind. She sat quiet and still, allowing the grieving to run its course. She hadn’t known Averie’s situation was so dire. Kat didn’t expect to show up at the hospital and confront death and a devastated next of kin.

  "So sorry, Maven. I can't imagine losing a cousin in such a dramatic way." Kat uttered what she considered a kindhearted note of understanding. Maven's sudden stall in sobbing and her strong, startling gaze made Kat regret trying to say anything. "Sorry, I only meant..."

  Maven took her arm and slid it across her eyes, deepening their redness and wiping all the moisture from her face. “She’s not dead!” Kat recoiled. “Not even close!”

  "Well, that's a…" Kat tried to save herself, but Maven silenced her.

  "She's a crazy mess of nerves. They've restrained her. She’s strapped to her b
ed, and I am supposed to keep her company and try to calm her.”

  Kat failed to see the underbelly of Averie’s healing. She bit her bottom lip like a frightened toddler and avoided Maven’s eye contact.

  Lydia jumped into the conversation. “What about her head?”

  With a forced inhale and severe exhale, Maven turned a softer countenance toward Lydia. "Three staples. They scanned her, and there's no serious damage."

  “But she’s delirious and needs restraining?”

  “Averie has been under a great strain. That crazy man, from last night, has stalked her for weeks. It’s all but broken her. I guess this morning, it did.” With that, Maven rose straight and powerful. “I only needed a moment to process everything. Since it seems I can’t even have that, I’ll return to my cousin.” She glared at Kat and then nodded to Lydia before pivoting and walking down the hall.

  “We’ll pray for you, Hun," Lydia called to Maven's back. The girl stiffened but did not turn around or reply.

  *****

  Flora hustled all the kids from stand to stand, guarding her belly against bumps and rushing children. Thaddeus was off tending to Berna and anything she needed doing for the festival or her nerves. Kevin pushed the childless stroller stacked to brimming with ice chests and duffle bags.

  Ivy carried Scout around. Her thoughts often flashed to Lydia and Averie, but Scout’s shimmies of delight and random coos of excitement consumed most of her attention. Her friend, Emily, from Mission house, was meeting her for lunch in an hour.

  Berna instructed the ice cream vendor to begin sales at two, which meant the line would start any minute. Ivy paced around the location. Maybe if she jumped in line as soon as it began, Emily would bring her lunch, and they'd be able to have the icy lavender treat for dessert.

  “How’s the belly?” Kevin asked again. Flora touched his hand and smiled.

  “Big.”

  “Hurting? Cramping?”

  “Tired. Though, that’s the new normal for me.”

  “Perhaps we should go home. Sure, Kat and Lydia are busy. However, it would be best if you weren't walking around out here all day. We can cart all the kids to our house."

  Flora smirked at Kevin's obvious concern. Two more weeks and their little one would emerge. He didn't want her taking any chances. But if she stayed cooped up for another week without fresh air and new things to look at, she'd go nuts.

  "Walking is good, for the baby and me."

  “Yes, but not the heat. Or the worry and the babysitting and the sugar and the… all day.” Flora stood on tiptoes, her stomach pushing into Kevin’s waist and kissed her husband.

  “I promise, if I get too tired, I’ll sit down.”

  “But…”

  “And if I get too tired to do that, I’ll have you take me home.”

  She kissed him again and linked her arm with his. They continued walking through the crowds. Flora kept a continuous headcount of all five children, Ivy, and Scout.

  *****

  Ivy and Emily sat on Ivy’s favorite quilt, holding their place in the long line for lavender ice cream. The sun rose until it stood above the waiting patrons, making them hotter and hungrier for the treat. After thirty minutes in the line, not a single waiting customer would give up their place. Now, they needed the frosty dessert more than before. Ivy and Emily were wise enough to plan for comfort.

  Emily fluffed out the blanket and planted Scout in her stroller, securing one side of their padding. Ivy left and returned with corn dogs, chips, and bottled water. They enjoyed their picnic lunch in line. Scout drifted to sleep listening to Averie whisper through Ivy’s cellphone.

  A frazzled man, in his late twenties, flew up next to the picnickers. “Oh,” he said. His eyebrows puckered in disappointment. “I thought I heard her. I guess Averie’s not at her booth today.”

  Emily offered a naïve smile at the stranger. Ivy was wary but polite. She answered his unspoken question. “No, they have taken her to the hospital.”

  The man helped himself to a corner of the blanket. Ivy’s skin prickled. She had reasons for being untrusting. Emily did too. She was a year younger than Ivy by birth but a couple of years backward in maturity. She still hoped to woo a human savior.

  Emily wanted rescue from her sad life. Ivy knew a savior had already come. Though His people could help, no person on earth offered the relief Emily sought.

  “She was injured in the race.” Emily spurted in hurried conversations. She massaged mustard onto her dog and chomped away.

  “I was in the race.” The man said. "I didn't see her. I think I would have spotted a pink haired racer."

  Emily offered an awkward laugh and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I think someone hurt her.”

  “Oh? That’s too bad. I’m a big fan and was hoping to meet her and tell her so.”

  “Rumor is someone attacked Averie.”

  “Do they know who attacked her?”

  “She had a stalker.” Emily offered without thought, unaware of the man’s poor social habits. His demeanor and questions seemed forced to Ivy. Besides that, he shouldn’t be lingering with two, teenaged and unaccompanied girls.

  Ivy was about to tell him to leave when he asked, “Where are your folks? In a different line, I suppose?” Ivy willed Emily to remain silent, but the younger girl giggled.

  “They’re over by the honey stand.” Ivy lied before Emily could weave her life’s story to the stranger. She pointed to a huddle of people standing past the candle dipping booth. To Ivy’s relief, Flora’s face welcomed her wave and returned the greeting.

  “What a great time to be with family.” The man responded, unstartled by parental protectors.

  Ivy stared into Flora’s face, hoping to make her plea known. Flora nodded and eyed the man. She then squeezed Kevin’s hand and started her tiresome walk over to the girls.

  Thank you, God, for such amazing friends. Ivy’s fading panic flushed on her face.

  The man noticed. "Oh, my bad, I've scared you. Sorry, I have horrible manners." He rose to leave, Flora still a couple of feet away.

  “We’re not scared!” Emily’s voice oozed false sincerity.

  “I’m glad. But,” the man started.

  "We were talking about holding a vigil for Averie. To send her positive energy and good thoughts. Maybe you'd like to join us?"

  Emily's voice wounded Ivy's heart. She'd been there before, desperate to have it all together. For Emily, it was imperative that people believed nothing affected her. She needed to appear unflappable, or else she may come unglued. Ivy understood but couldn't let her facade put the threesome in danger. She'd lived that way before.

  “Sounds nice, but I’m not sure I’ll be in town.”

  “Tomorrow night? You can stay for one more night, right?” Emily jabbed an elbow into Ivy’s side. “We can do it at your place. I’m sure Lydia won’t mind.”

  Ivy nodded but kept her eyes on Flora. She arrived, winded and carrying her camping chair.

  The man untangled the chair from Flora’s grasp and set it up. “Here you go. I’m sorry if I’ve worried you. I’m Shane Mons.” He reached out his hand and shook Flora’s after she settled in her seat. “Your girls are smart. I’m afraid I worried them with my over-friendliness.” Flora, still heaving, inclined her head and smiled. “Well, ladies I’ll see you around.” Shane smiled and left the group heading towards the bee sanctuary.

  “Who was that?” Flora inquired.

  "Shane Mons," Emily said. "He may have been my future if Ivy hadn't acted so weird." Ivy shrugged but said nothing in response.

  "Well, I'm glad I found you both. I needed a sit-down, and now I get to have ice cream too. Even before my kids. They're at least 15 people behind you. I heard they'll be opening the stand in just 20 more minutes." Ivy winked at Flora. They’d chat later.

  Scout stretched in her pram. Ivy finished her lunch as Emily chattered on about boys.

  “I can’t wait for you to meet him. He goes to church, which
I’m sure will make Lydia glad.” Emily sneered her last sentence.

  She and Lydia were in the habit of heart to heart chats around Lydia's dining room table. These talks happened at Emily's random bidding. Lydia seldom received advanced notice of Emily’s need. Still, Ivy never witnessed Lydia turn Emily away.

  The conversations brimmed with heated and frustrated accusations and imploring. Lydia listened. She prayed over the girl and over her answers before she offered them. Emily often left agitated and annoyed with Lydia. She couldn’t accept Lydia’s answers. They were too old school for the girl, too goody two shoes. Lydia never argued back with Emily. She answered her questions, listened to her worries, and prayed.

  Emily made horrible faces at Lydia. Sometimes, she’d curse at the ceiling in angst. Lydia never scolded her. When Emily started a tirade, Lydia left the room until she calmed down.

  Ivy hated it when her friend mocked her mentor. Her stomach knotted and burned when Emily called Lydia a name or used a sappy voice to imitate her. Ivy wasn’t sure what she would do about Emily’s two-faced behavior but the time to act was getting closer. She could feel it like a gray cloud threatening to block the sun.

  As Emily continued to talk, Ivy felt her corn dog swishing in her stomach. She hoped Em would change the subject soon.

  “Anyway, no matter what Lydia thinks I like him. I think he likes me too. I'll bring him around, sometime. Once I know for sure if he's into me."

  “How will you know?” Flora asked.

  “Oh, you know. Little ways. Flirty eye contact. Late night text messages. Things like that.” Emily blushed as she spoke. She was hooked.

  Ivy hoped this new guy would be a good guy. No, she wished he would be a Godly guy. Emily needed a Godly guy in her life. She hadn’t screwed up her reputation as Ivy had done. If she kept her nose clean and didn’t act like a giggling goon, Emily could land a Godly man. But not for a while, Ivy added to her thoughts.

  "What do you think Lucas would think if he saw you flirting with a grown man?" Again, Flora carried the conversation. Ivy, trapped in her wonderings, did not take part.

 

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