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Still Life and Death

Page 11

by Tracy Gardner


  Mollie beamed.

  “I’ll see you Saturday,” Aidan said. “Let me know when you’re home from your birthday treasure hunt, and I’ll pick you up.”

  Tricia’s back was still turned to them. Savanna knew she should get going, but she wasn’t quite ready. “Where are we going? So I’ll know what to wear.”

  “Can’t tell you. But it doesn’t matter what you wear.” He leaned in toward her, lowering his voice. “You always look beautiful.”

  She met his gaze and forgot to breathe. Her cheeks burned. “Thank you.”

  “Bye, Ms. Shepherd!” Mollie took her dad’s hand and waved as they crossed to the parking lot in Tricia Williams’ direction.

  Savanna forced the smile from her face, trying to look as if she hadn’t just had a stomach full of butterflies stirred up by Dr. Gallager, and headed the opposite way to her car. Driving through town on the way home, she noticed the lights on at Libby’s Blooms. The orange sign on the door was turned to Open. She had an idea.

  She ran into Fancy Tails and bought a package of pupcakes from her sister. “I’m going to see if Uncle Max is over at Libby’s. I’ll be right back!”

  She found him behind the cash register at the flower shop, which had no customers at the moment. The town probably hadn’t realized yet they were open. Behind Max, she could see Anthony moving about in Libby’s office. He’d wasted no time getting back to business. The scene in the bank and the oddity of him arriving Saturday morning at the front entrance notwithstanding, she couldn’t imagine him as Libby’s killer. She hoped he and his daughter could somehow got through the loss intact.

  “Are you happy to be back?” she asked Uncle Max.

  “I am,” Max replied. “Four days off was plenty. Though it was nice getting to laze about with Lady Bella for a while.”

  “Aw, I doubt that. Speaking of Lady Bella, Sydney made these fresh today—her bacon pupcakes.” She handed him the white box tied with string.

  “You’ll spoil her. She doesn’t need more treats.” He was smiling, and Savanna could tell she’d made him happy.

  “Nonsense. She isn’t spoiled. She’s a sweet little dog, and she should have special treats as often as possible. Make sure you tell her they’re from me.”

  “Thank you, love.”

  “Uncle Max.” She dropped her voice to half volume, her gaze darting to Anthony Kent through the office door. “I have a favor to ask. Is it possible for you to show me Libby’s project she was working on? The rare plant? I’m so curious.”

  He leaned toward her over the counter, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I’d love to. I’ve been here since noon, I’ve taken care of all the plants, and there’s nothing going on.” He came around the counter, calling over his shoulder, “Anthony, my niece thinks she left her favorite paintbrush up on the roof. I’m taking her up. I’ll be right back.”

  Savanna smiled and followed him through the stairwell access door and then up the two flights of stairs to the greenhouse. At the second-level landing, she lagged behind, stopping to peer through the window on the upper half of the door that led to the apartments and storage areas. Two hallways branched off on the other side of the door. One led around the corner, out of her line of sight, but down the other hallway were two apartment doors bearing brass numerical addresses.

  Max was already halfway up the next flight of stairs to the roof and hadn’t noticed she’d stopped. She reached out and grasped the doorknob, wishing and hoping for it to be unlocked—just as Uncle Max spoke and startled her. “The greenhouse is blooming beautifully. Rachel’s done a great job managing the plants. Your easels got stacked and moved to the other end, likely during the investigation.”

  Savanna jerked her hand back and trotted up the steps. Max hadn’t looked back; he’d been making conversation. She’d have to find some way to get a closer look at those apartments.

  Max led her to the back corner of the greenhouse, where he unzipped a special mesh screenhouse Libby had erected around her project, then zipped them in once Savanna stepped inside the airy six-by-six-foot space. In the center, a majestic purple flowering plant sat on a pedestal.

  “I give you the Cry Violet.” Max made a flourish with his hands. “It really is quite remarkable. When Libby told me what she was up to, I did some research. All specimens of the Cry Violet have been extinct in the wild since 1930. There’s some evidence that a few plants were cultivated by private owners, but those also went extinct around 1950. She was so excited to submit this to the Flower and Garden Show.” His tone was reverent and serious. He shook his head. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

  “Wow.” Savanna’s eyes were wide. About five inches in height, it was a beautiful plant, the petals a warm violet hue, turning to a much darker, nearly indigo shade near the center. The leaves were thick and light green. “I’ve got to tell Sydney that it’s flowering. She was hoping Libby was able to see it bloom before she died.”

  “Oh, yes,” Max said. “It’s been in full bloom for almost two weeks.”

  “It’s so pretty. Mom lets the wild violets grow in her flower bed off the patio, but those are smaller. The purple isn’t as vivid. How did the Cry Violet go extinct?”

  Uncle Max nearly lit up. He loved talking plants. His hands clasped behind him, he rocked forward a bit toward the plant as he spoke. “Well, the species was native to France. The Cry Violet liked to grow along the Canal de Bourgogne and the south-facing sides of the limestone hills. She was actually named after the French community of Cry. Apparently folks attempted to grow the violet in their gardens, on the brink of her extinction around 1930, but even those efforts failed. She’s been officially extinct for seventy years.” He looked at Savanna, his eyebrows raised. Even with all of his experience in the field, Uncle Max was clearly enthralled with the story and Libby’s project.

  “So how...” She shook her head, watching him.

  “How did she do it?”

  “Yes! How on earth did Libby grow a plant that’s been extinct since 1950?”

  He sighed. “We may never know. She never shared her secret with me, and I don’t get the feeling Rachel knows, either.”

  “Holy wow,” Savanna said.

  “Holy wow, indeed. Rachel’s going to bring the violet to the show in Grand Rapids to honor Libby. She’s a good daughter.”

  “Definitely. I’m glad to see it’s here and healthy. Detective Jordan may be checking in on the plant too, based on a conversation we had this morning.”

  “He already has. He was here when we opened. Anthony brought him up here to see the plant, and he seemed satisfied.”

  Jordan was nothing if not thorough. Savanna wasn’t sure what exactly she thought had happened surrounding Libby’s death and this plant and Jodie Vonkowski in her still life class. But she was relieved to know that Jodie’s concern—expressed through Missy—must simply be genuine horticultural interest.

  Uncle Max let them both out of the enclosure. “I only wish I knew how she did it,” he lamented. “It’s quite a feat. A mystery that shall remain unsolved, I’m afraid.”

  “I appreciate you showing me.”

  “While I’m up here, I should prune those azaleas. Do you mind waiting for me?”

  “Of course not.” She followed him through a gorgeous array of flowering plants. An idea struck her. “Uncle Max.”

  “Yes, love?”

  “My earring.” She grabbed her earlobe before he could see her small gold earring, still safely in place. “I must’ve lost it on the stairway. Could I run and find it?”

  “Yes, go on! Do you need another set of eyes?” He began taking off his gardening gloves.

  “No,” Savanna said quickly. She should’ve anticipated he’d do that. “I’ll be right back, and I can help with the pruning if you give me some direction.” She smiled at him. She so hated lying, especially to sweet Uncle M
ax. But it was for a good reason. He’d never be on board with what she hoped to accomplish in the next few minutes.

  Chapter Nine

  Savanna’s pulled at the door to the second-floor apartments, and her heart leaped when it swung easily open. She crept to the first apartment door, labeled with gold-tone numerals: 202. The door beyond it, 201, had an out-of-date Easter wreath with bunnies and ducklings below the apartment number. She turned a corner, finding another hallway. At the end of it, she found a steel door bearing the letters P.D.A.—Miss Priscilla’s? It must be how the dance studio accessed their storage space.

  She retreated back down the hall, passing apartments 201 and 202. She assumed the other hallway off the entry door led to storage areas and the third apartment. A bang came from somewhere below, and Savanna froze, instinctively backing up against the wall. Steps approached on the stairs outside the door she’d come through. What to do? A brief glance down that first hallway revealed only another closed door at the end; nowhere to hide.

  A young woman appeared on the second-floor landing, and Savanna darted to the door, pushing it open as the girl pulled. “Oops! I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, stepping aside and letting her in. She looked to be around college age.

  “That’s okay,” the young woman replied amicably. “Were you looking for me? Brianna,” she offered, placing a hand on her chest. “Or maybe Marcus?”

  “Um, yes! Actually. I was meeting him here. We’re grabbing a bite. Maybe at the deli, but I don’t know, maybe we’ll get pizza instead. I’m not sure.” Oh jeez, Savanna, shut your mouth! She stared wide-eyed at the woman, who must be Marcus Valentine’s neighbor. Marcus really did live in the building. “I think I’ve got the time wrong, though. Maybe I’m early. He’s not home.” She was only making it worse. What if Marcus was home? And heard them in the hall talking? She backed up toward the still-open door.

  The woman checked the phone in her hand. “It’s four-thirty. Do you want to wait? His hours seem to be different every day, but I’m sure he’ll be here.”

  “No, no, I’ll come back. I’m way too early. Thank you, though!” The door was almost closed behind her when the young woman called to her.

  “What’s your name? I’ll let him know you were here.”

  “Um.” Savanna’s mind raced. “Elizabeth. Thanks so much!” She nearly sprinted through the door and took two steps up toward the rooftop level before she realized the woman could see her and was probably wondering where the heck she was going. She spun and trotted slowly down the steps, heart pounding in her ears, halting on the step outside the access door to Libby’s Blooms and leaning against the wall. Her middle name? Why on earth had she said Elizabeth? Now what? She glanced up the stairs, then slowly, stealthily went back up, ducking down under the door’s window when she reached the second-floor landing so she remained hidden. She tried raising her head to peek, but changed her mind. If Marcus Valentine’s neighbor was still in the hallway for some reason, she’d see her peeking, and how would Savanna even explain? She maintained her crouched-down posture, half squatting, half crawling, until she was four steps past the door. She let out a huge breath and hurried the rest of the way up and out into the greenhouse, breathing hard

  Uncle Max gawked at her. He was a couple of feet away, gloves dangling from one hand. “Are you all right? You’re pale as a sheet.”

  “Yes,” she said, too brightly. “I’m great. Are you finished?”

  He nodded slowly. “I see you found your earring.”

  “What? My—Oh!” She smacked a hand over her earlobe and the small gold earring there. “Right, yes.” She swallowed hard, a pang of regret hitting her. She so hoped Uncle Max couldn’t tell she was lying.

  “I’m glad you found what you were looking for.” He scrutinized her a moment longer, then pulled the door open. “Ready?”

  That evening, Savanna sat outside on her deck and mentally sorted through the snippets of information she’d gained in the past few days. She was glad Uncle Max was now cleared in Libby’s death, but she knew she could help Detective Jordan figure out who’d killed her. She had to, for Sydney. She’d seemed fine at lunch today, but that was because the three of them had been actively working on getting to the bottom of Libby’s murder. The thought that perhaps Jordan wasn’t looking at all the pieces in the case nagged at her. She’d have to let him know about Marcus living in the building, and the weirdly coincidental black eye he’d come to work with Monday after Libby had been killed. Her phone buzzed on the bench beside her. Sydney and Finn were walking on the beach and wanted to stop by.

  Savanna added another small log to the fire in her fire pit and brought out two more glasses of lemonade. Fonzie came bounding up onto the deck from the dunes. Sydney and Finn were close behind. Sydney’s long red hair was loose, the spiral curls on the ends damp like the hem of her skirt. Finn looked drier, though there were splash marks on his gray rock concert tee.

  “You walked all the way from the park? And you went in? Isn’t the lake still freezing?” Savanna asked.

  “It’s not too bad,” her younger sister replied. “Almost warm enough to swim.”

  Finn laughed. “Speak for yourself. It’ll have to be a lot warmer than that before I go in.”

  Sydney shrugged, she and Finn taking the adjacent bench. Fonzie curled up on Finn’s feet. “So,” Sydney said, “Finn’s in for dinner on Sunday. Have you decided where we’ll go? Did you ask Aidan yet?”

  “I’m seriously fine keeping it at Mom and Dad’s. I don’t mind cooking.”

  “That’s not happening. If you really want to skip the restaurant, I’ll trade you weeks. Let me cook. I’ve got the perfect recipe.”

  Savanna gave in. “All right. That sounds good. I’m going to run it by Aidan tomorrow.”

  “It’s your birthday dinner! I’m sure he’ll come.”

  “He’d better,” Finn said.

  Sydney frowned at him. “Stop it. Don’t be nervous. You’re going to love everyone, and they’ll love you. And you don’t want to miss what I’m making.”

  He put an arm behind her along the back rest and addressed Savanna. “I’m sure we’ll have runs to Anderson Memorial tomorrow. Do you want me to find my brother and tell him?”

  “I think I might try to meet up with him for coffee, but thank you.” The three of them chatted a while longer as the sun dropped toward the horizon. Fonzie switched spots, sprawling out near the fire pit. The evening had gotten cool.

  “This is my favorite spot in your house,” Sydney said. “You’ve got the best view.”

  “I love it here. But I do miss being your roomie,” Savanna said, smiling.

  “That was the most fun,” her sister agreed.

  The teachers’ lounge during Friday’s lunch hour was packed. Carson’s PTA was throwing their annual teacher appreciation luncheon. With only a month left of school until summer break, the remaining days were increasingly filled with events, assemblies, and field trips.

  The spread was amazing. Savanna had to hand it to the parents. Three types of deli sandwiches, two choices of soup, several large, pretty bowls filled with fresh fruit, homemade potato salad, Michigan cherry salad, and a huge assortment of cookies and pies for dessert.

  She wished she’d worn a more forgiving outfit today; the thin white belt on her blue linen dress was pinching her waist. She shared a table with Jack, Tricia Williams, Rosa Taylor, and Jack’s girlfriend Elaina Jenson, a third-grade teacher. Elaina and Jack had been dating for over a year, and they were adorable together. The two of them excused themselves a few minutes apart, leaving Savanna at the table with the teacher she was trying to avoid, and the teacher she was trying to avoid getting in trouble. She hoped Nick Jordan hadn’t felt the need to say anything to his partner, George Taylor. The whole conversation she’d had the other day with Rosa had been pure speculation.

  She picked at the cookies still
on her dessert plate and asked Rosa if she’d been able to finish her wedding thank-you notes. That led to a discussion about newly married life, which led to kitchen appliances, brands, features, and finishes. Savanna jotted down notes as Rosa told her which model stainless steel side-by-side refrigerator was the best, making sure to ask more questions about the ice dispenser and the freezer space. She’d gotten a perfectly fine budget model last fall when she’d moved in, but she was determined to avoid meaningful conversation with both women until she could politely escape.

  The parents began cleaning up, and Savanna was filled with relief as other teachers throughout the room began leaving. “Well, I’d better go. My afternoon classes are going wildflower hunting for a project, and I need to set up.”

  Tricia Williams put a well-manicured hand on Savanna’s forearm. “No, I’ve been waiting to ask you about something.” She shot a grouchy glance at Rosa, which surprised Savanna since she knew they were friends. It was her fault the table talk had been about appliances, not Rosa’s.

  “Sure, what’s that?”

  “You know Parker VanHelm?”

  Savanna wondered where this was headed. Tricia had had her back turned the entire time Savanna and Aidan had been talking outside yesterday after school. She was sure of it. “Yes, he’s a third grader, right?”

  Tricia leaned closer, her elbows on the table. She glanced around briefly before speaking. “His mother stopped to talk to me in my pick-up line yesterday. After you and Dr. Gallager left.”

  “Dr. Gallager picked up his daughter after school. We happened to walk out together,” Savanna clarified. Man, she wished she’d gotten out of here when Jack had.

  “Parker’s mom wanted to know if you two are dating.”

  “Based on what?” Savanna heard the defensive tone in her own voice but couldn’t help it.

  “She noticed the two of you together while waiting in the pick-up line. I don’t know what she saw, but it was enough to make her ask. I told her I ran into you together at the movies Saturday night, so I knew you were friends.” Tricia looked pleased with herself, as if she’d done Savanna a favor.

 

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