Evidence in the Echinacea

by Dale Mayer

  Mack gave a shout of laughter at that. “I don’t know about that,” he said, “because they were obviously very good at what they did, or your husband wouldn’t have kept them around.”

  “True enough, but he went through one every six months or so,” she said. “He really was fussy.”

  “I’m not surprised,” he said, but he kept it to that.

  Then she already knew his opinion of her ex. She wondered about bringing up Mack’s brother, who’d offered to look into the mismanagement of her divorce case by her own divorce lawyer—then decided against it. She didn’t want to ruin a lovely dinner.

  He tossed the ingredients lightly and said, “Anything else you want in here?”

  “Pine nuts,” she said.

  He looked over at her and said, “I didn’t buy any. You didn’t mention those before.”

  “Oh,” she said and then shrugged. “Looks good to me.”

  “Let me check the fridge,” he said. He headed there, opened the door, and spied the green onions. “Perfect.” He brought one out, diced it into very small rings and tossed it on top. “Now, how about some plates?”

  “I found these in the back of a drawer last week,” she said, coming out with two brightly colored, almost garishly colored bowls in orange and red. “I wasn’t sure what they were supposed to be, but I thought maybe they would be easier for something like this.”

  He chuckled. “Those are pasta bowls.”

  She looked at him in amazement and said, “But why … why are they …”

  “It was a phase,” he said. “Everybody had them. We would toss the pasta in a larger bowl and serve it in these.”

  She nodded with understanding. “Yes, that makes sense. We used silver chafing dishes at every dinner.”

  That raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything else after that. He served up their pasta salad and handed her one of the two bowls. “Where would you like to sit?”

  She glanced at the kitchen table and back to him.

  He motioned outside on the deck. “It’s a beautiful day. Why don’t we sit out there?”

  Chapter 4

  Sunday Late Afternoon …

  Doreen beamed and stepped outside. She set her bowl on the veranda table and walked back inside to get cutlery and water. When she returned, she found Goliath had claimed her seat. Thaddeus was on the back of her chair eyeing her bowl, and Mugs had already taken up residence underneath the table, in case something dropped.

  Mack said, “We still have red wine from last night. We never did have a glass with the meal.” He poured two glasses, and they sat on the deck with their pasta salad and red wine.

  Doreen munched on the pasta salad and moaned in delight. “This is delicious. And so different from last night,” she said. “And it was so easy. To think you cooked the noodles for two meals at the same time.”

  “That’s just being smart with your time,” he said.

  She nodded and reached for the glass of wine. She lifted it up and said, “Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” he said, “and congratulations on solving yet another case.”

  At that, she beamed at him, took a sip of wine, and sputtered.

  He took his sip, rolled it around in his mouth, and swallowed. He placed his glass down, looked at her, and asked, “Are you okay?”

  She gasped for air, nodded, and said, “But maybe you’d like my glass too.”

  He dumped her wine into his glass. “Absolutely.”

  She sighed. “I was really looking forward to that too.”

  “Did you not like it?”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it.

  He winked at her. “It’s obviously not the brand of wine you’re used to. I did warn you it was a cheap wine and perfect for cooking,” he said. “Still, I never learned to differentiate between wines. I’m more of a beer guy.”

  “In that case I’d rather have a beer too,” she said.

  He stared at her. “You drink beer?”

  She frowned. “I think so.”

  “You think so?”

  She nodded. “At least some of the drinks I had were mixed with beer, I think,” she said slowly. “And the wine is okay. I did tell you,” she said in a rush, “that I didn’t like red wines.”

  “Yes, you did,” he said. “Maybe we’ll try a white next.”

  Relieved, she sat back. “Yes, that would be great. I didn’t mean to insult you,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip.

  He just smiled. “How could it insult me to know I get to have both glasses myself?” He lifted his glass.

  “You can have the rest of the bottle too.”

  He looked at her and said, “This is the rest of the bottle.”

  She sighed. “I don’t remember you cooking with the wine.”

  “I put it in the sauce, when I added the noodles to the salted water last night, somewhere around the time Hornby was being difficult.”

  She curled her lip up at that. “Please tell me that he’ll never get out of jail again.”

  “No, he won’t. Not with three murders under his belt.”

  “What about Susan?” she asked. “Do you think we need to check on her death?”

  “No,” he said. “I already spoke to her doctor. Her fatal breast cancer wasn’t her first bout. It had been a recurring problem for her over a good ten years. She finally lost the battle.”

  Doreen winced at that. “Cancer is the devil,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry for her.”

  “The doctor said she also had a long history of drug abuse after the accident.”

  “As if maybe she felt guilty?” Doreen said with a nod. “As if maybe, in her subconscious, she understood what had happened?”

  “I wondered that myself,” Mack said. “But no way we’ll ever know for sure—not now.”

  She nodded. “It’s still sad.”

  “It is, indeed,” he said. “So what did you find out at Penny’s?” he asked out of the blue.

  She almost choked. When she cleared her throat, she looked at him and asked, “What are you talking about?”

  He narrowed his gaze at her. She worked hard to put that look of innocence on her face, but it wasn’t working when he just narrowed his gaze a little more. Then he tapped his bowl with his fork and said, “Doreen …”

  She sighed. “You’re mean,” she announced.

  “I’m mean?” he asked in astonishment. “This is two nights in a row I’ve cooked you meals.”

  She winced. “Okay, so now that’s really mean.”

  He shook his head and said, “I wonder if I’ll ever understand you.”

  “Of course you will,” she said. “What’s not to understand?”

  “So, I’m mean for cooking you two meals,” he said, “and then I’m really mean because why?”

  “Because you brought it up,” she explained patiently. “That was just an added little twist to the mean stake you plunged into my heart.”

  His lips twitched, and he chuckled. She glared at him. He held up his hands in peace. “You have an interesting turn of thought,” he said.

  She frowned at that. “That sounds like something Old English.”

  “I was trying to be nice,” he said in exasperation. “Never mind. I’ll eat my dinner.”

  “Oh, good,” she said and proceeded to eat too. When she lifted her head again, he was watching her.

  “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

  She stared at him and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Just then his phone rang. He groaned, put down his fork, pulled out his phone, and said, “What’s up?”

  “You need to go down to Rosemoor,” said the person on the other end.

  Doreen could hear the voice from where she was sitting.

  The dispatcher said, “A ruckus with a couple of the pensioners.”

  Doreen gasped.

  “Don’t tell me,” Mack said. “Let me guess. Nan is involved, isn’t she?”

  The di
spatcher on the other end laughed. “Absolutely. Something to do with winning another bet, but Richie seems to think he should get half of the earnings.”

  “Oh, good Lord,” Doreen muttered and stood. She walked into the kitchen, grabbed her purse, and said, “Hate to eat and run, but I’m gone.” As she raced out the front door, Mugs barked like crazy at her sudden movements. She could hear Mack shouting behind her, “Doreen, you get back here.”

  Like that would happen.

  Chapter 5

  Sunday Evening …

  Doreen parked at Rosemoor and headed toward Nan’s little corner suite, taking the stepping stones as fast as she could. She landed on the back patio and tried the glass door, but it was locked. “Drat,” she said. She rapped hard, but no answer came from within. She quickly made her way around the flagstones to the main front door of the retirement home just in time to see Mack pulling up.

  He glared at her.

  She raised both hands, palms up. “What?” she asked. “I have to protect Nan. You’re not allowed to upset her.” The look of astonishment on his face had her groaning. “Not that you would knowingly try to upset her …”

  He just shook his head and said, “Come on. Let’s see what’s going on.”

  “I already know what’s going on,” she said glumly. “Nan probably put bets on Alan Hornby.”

  “I did not.” Nan’s strident voice carried across the foyer, where at least a half dozen other residents of the home had gathered.

  Richie said to Nan, “She should resolve this. She’s your granddaughter.”

  “Somebody called the police,” Nan said, rolling her eyes. “Like we need their help.”

  The other residents muttered their assent.

  Mack just sighed. “Somebody called the police because there was a ruckus,” he said. “You can’t blame me for showing up and doing my job.”

  Nan looked mollified. “At least you brought Doreen with you.”

  “No,” Doreen cried out, rushing toward Nan. “I came ahead of him.”

  Nan looked from her to Mack. “What do you mean, ahead of him?”

  “We were having dinner,” Doreen said, “when dispatch called in. As soon as I heard what was going on, I raced out in front of him.”

  Nan’s expression turned crafty. She faced Richie. “See? I told you.”

  Richie surprised Doreen as he clapped his hands in joy. “We’ll make double the money on this one, Nan,” he cried out in almost a hooting manner.

  Doreen looked at Nan and then at Richie and again to Mack. “Did I miss something?”

  “I doubt it. Come on, Nan. Let’s have a little talk.” Just then another vehicle pulled up. Mack said, “Looks like Darren is here too.”

  “Oh, no,” Richie said. “Time for me to leave then.” And he turned and tried to hustle away, but Mack grabbed him by the trailing end of his bathrobe and said, “Nope, that won’t happen, Richie. If you call the police in, you’ll deal with the consequences.”

  “We didn’t call the police,” Nan said. “Why would you even think that?”

  “I’m sure you didn’t,” Mack said, obviously striving for patience. “But, if you caused such a ruckus that the police are called, then you have to deal with the consequences.”

  “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Nan asked. She looked over at Richie and grinned. “Maybe they’ll cuff us and take us to a jail cell.” She held out her wrists. “I’ve never been arrested before.”

  Doreen stepped forward and said, “Yes, you have, Nan.”

  Nan turned to her granddaughter and said, “Shh, you didn’t have to tell him that. It was such fun last time. I just wanted to repeat it.”

  Richie looked at Mack and put his hands out to be handcuffed too. “If she gets to be arrested, I do too. No way I’ll die without having experienced what jail is like.”

  Darren walked through the door, a cop Doreen recognized but didn’t actually know. He took one look at Richie and said, “Granddad, what are you up to?”

  Doreen snickered.

  The new arrival looked at her and groaned. “Of course you’d be at the bottom of this one.”

  Outraged, she said, “I came to protect my poor Nan.”

  He snorted at that too. “The last thing your poor Nan needs is protection,” he snapped. “She’s led my poor granddad down a criminal path.”

  Doreen’s jaw dropped as she watched Nan cuddle up with Richie. “Oh, good Lord,” she said, “I really don’t want to know what those two are up too.”

  “Oh, yes, you do,” Mack said. He grabbed her by the shoulder and gently nudged her forward. “Remember? You wanted to get here to protect your Nan.”

  She glared up at him. “I might just go home and finish my dinner,” she said. “And, since you didn’t finish yours, I’ll eat yours too.”

  Nan laughed. “You two sound like an old married couple already,” she said, pure delight on her face.

  Richie nodded. “They do, indeed,” he said. “They do, indeed.”

  Even Darren chuckled. “Now you’re done for, because once these two get to matchmaking, you know what happens.”

  “They can just stop whatever matchmaking they’ve got in their minds,” Doreen said, raising herself up to her full height. She glared down at her Nan. “Nan, you will not go there. Do you hear me?”

  Nan tried to look appropriately subdued and then lost it and cracked up. She patted Mack on the hand and said, “Dear, you go home and finish your dinner. We’ll be just fine here.”

  “I can’t do that,” Mack said with a heavy sigh. “As much as I wish I could. Who called the police?”

  Doreen heard a faint voice. She turned to see Maisie, standing off to the side with a little finger wave.

  “I did.”

  “And why did you do that?” Mack asked Maisie.

  Maisie took a step back.

  Doreen stepped in between the two of them. “Lower your voice,” she ordered Mack. “Maisie is shy and easily scared.”

  He looked at Maisie in surprise but gentled his voice. “So, Maisie, what were these two doing that bothered you?”

  She sniffled and patted her cheeks, as if not sure what to say now that all attention was on her.

  “Of course it would be her,” Nan muttered from behind Doreen. Doreen spun and glared at her. Nan stuck out her tongue in response. It was all Doreen could do to not laugh. She turned again and said, “Maisie, do you want me to walk you back to your room? I’m sure all of this is pretty upsetting.”

  Maisie looked pathetically grateful.

  “Where’s your room?” Doreen asked.

  “I’m down at the far end,” she said.

  “Good. Let me walk you there,” Doreen said. “What’s upsetting you?” She knew all the rest of the people gathered in the lobby watched their progress.

  Maisie leaned closer and whispered, “Your Nan is not very nice.”

  Doreen bit her tongue on that one. “She has her moments,” she said gently, “but her heart is as good as gold.”

  “Maybe,” she said, “but I’m not so sure about that. Joe and I broke up. He wants to get back together with Nan.”

  Doreen looked at Maisie and saw tears in her eyes. Doreen remembered how Nan had felt when Maisie had come traipsing into her room, talking about how Joe needed his sleep afterward. Doreen sighed and said, “Love triangles are difficult, aren’t they?”

  Maisie’s eyes welled up. “Yes, they are,” she whispered.

  They arrived at Maisie’s door. She opened it up and stepped inside. Even from the doorway, Doreen had a hard time with the smells coming from the room. “You do like incense, don’t you?”

  “Oh, no, that’s air fresheners,” she said. “I absolutely love the smell of patchouli.”

  “Oh, how nice.” The inside of Doreen’s stomach twisted. If there was one fragrance she couldn’t stand, patchouli was it. “Anyway, I’m sure Mack needs to talk to you because you called the police. Just tell him what you know,
and it’ll be fine.”

  “Thank you,” Maisie said. “I really do appreciate your kindness.”

  “It’s easy to be kind,” Doreen said. “But please don’t lie. You have a reason for saying what you need to say, and you have every right to feel safe here.” As she stepped back, she saw Mack striding toward her. She motioned at the room and said, “Maisie’s waiting for you.”

  He went to say something, but Doreen shook her head, again pointed at the open doorway. He nodded and stepped in. “So, Maisie, can you tell me what’s going on here?”

  Doreen smiled at his nice, strong, official voice because, even though it sounded businesslike, it was very gentle. She chuckled at that. Even Mack could be trained apparently. With that thought uppermost in her mind, she headed back to the open area where people still milled about. In fact, the numbers had doubled. She glanced around, looking for Nan, but saw no sign of her. See approached Richie, talking to Darren. “Richie, where did Nan go?”

  “Probably gone to lie down, I expect,” he said. “With all this ruckus going on, we all need our sleep, you know?” he said, scowling at his grandson.

  Darren just pushed his hat back, pinched the bridge of his nose, and said, “And I’d be happy to go home and finish my own dinner, but every time you get into a ruckus here, they call me.”

  “Well, they shouldn’t, should they?” Richie snapped. “They should be calling whoever is on duty.”

  “We’re a small precinct, Granddad. When it comes to family issues, we try to leave it for a family member to handle.”

  “Huh. So how come Mack always comes for Nan?”

  Darren grinned. “You know the answer to that.”

  Doreen heard Richie’s comment and Darren’s answer. She wanted to pipe up and ask for clarification herself when somebody else said, “I don’t understand.”

  Richie turned and in a smug tone said, “Because Mack is always looking out for Doreen.”

  “Ah,” commented the other resident, who Doreen didn’t know. “Well, that makes sense. Those two are really an item, aren’t they?”