by Pyper James
By the time the duo got to the Dahlonega Police Station, they were still going back and forth about Simon Spruce.
“We need you to run some tests on this,” Vivica said as she stood in front of Sherriff Harper’s desk holding the plastic bag containing the oleander plant far in front of her.
“What is that,” Johnathan said hesitantly.
“This is a sample of the oleander plant we found in Princeton’s backyard,” Winifred announced proudly. By this time, Bo had gotten up from his chair, curious as to why the person of interest in the Wyatt murder was standing in the police station.
“What about the chain of custody?” It was Bo trying to be all official. Turning slowly and deliberately in Gathright’s direction, Vivica scowled and her friend hand fell to her hip. Johnathan could see the curl of Vivica’s lip and stepped in.
“Bo,” he began, not taking his eyes of Vivica. “Chain of custody is not an issue because you and I are going back to the Wyatt estate and securing another sample that will be properly marked and time stamped.” Vivica turned to Johnathan prepared to bite his head off, too. “We will test both samples,” Johnathan continued hoping it would keep Vivica from lashing out at him with her tongue. “If it is determined that this is the same strain of plant found in the victim’s bloodstream, then we have an official sample that won’t get thrown out in court.”
Sheriff Harper did his best to appease both of them. It worked. Bo backed down, although he was still suspicious of Ms. Meadows presence in the office. Winifred watched the interaction between Johnathan and Vivica when he checked in without words to see if they were still okay. She softened, but Vivica still didn’t like how Bo treated her.
“What if we find another sample,” Vivica asked. “Since it’s not official (air quotes), how do you want Winnie and I to handle it?”
Sheriff Harper had to think about that one for a moment. He allowed Vivica to work on the case in a very unofficial capacity. If, by some chance, the information or evidence Vivica gathered led to the arrest and conviction of a suspect, there could be problems. It was Dahlonega, it would probably fly but still, Harper would hate to have his whole case thrown out if the defense learned of his little arrangement. But he was getting ahead of himself.
“Unfortunately, I can’t give you official evidence bags to collect samples.” Although Johnathan was technically the boss, he trod lightly. Knowing he offended Vivica with his interrogation bothered Harper and he didn’t want to offend her again. He understood, more than Vivica probably realized, why she was doing what she was doing. And Johnathan and Sheriff Harper wanted Vivica to be successful. He knew in his heart that she didn’t murder Princeton Wyatt but knowing wasn’t enough.
“So, what are we supposed to do Sheriff? That’s like tying our hands,” Vivica replied.
“You’re not a cop, lady,” Bo rudely interjected.
“She knows that, deputy,” Winnie snapped.
The tension in the room rose a bit. It was Harper’s responsibility to get things under control.
“If you find the plant, take a picture of it. Call Deputy Gathright or me and we will come out and collect the sample. That way our investigation won’t be compromised.” Sheriff Harper thought that was a reasonable solution, but the girls were immediately convinced.
“How long before this sample comes back,” Vivica asked, changing the subject.
“It normally takes 72 hours,” Johnathan began. “Gathright and I will retrieve a sample and send in the proper packaging so that the testing will be official. Once they get our sample, I will ask them to put a rush on it.”
Again, he wanted to appease her.
Vivica turned on her heels without responding and Winnie fell in line behind her.
“That went well,” Winnie mumbled.
Chapter Eleven
Vivica couldn’t afford to completely ignore the Black Orchid Flower Shop just because she was amateur sleuthing. She hadn’t quite managed to find time to find people to interview or even advertise that there was a position open. To be totally honest, Vivica hadn’t figured out if there was one or more than one position that needed to be filled. But she would, at some point, but probably not today.
The goal today was to ride her bike downtown, sell some flowers, follow up on the few delivery calls she had and get back to figuring out who killed Mr. Wyatt. The whole idea that the results from poison control could take so long didn’t help matters. She and Winnie discussed how effective it would be to continue riding around trying to locate other samples. They agreed. Finding a few more wouldn’t hurt but Winnie wasn’t available today because of mommy duties. There were parent-teacher conferences she needed to attend. When they spoke on the phone this morning, Winnie and Vivica agreed that if they both finished at a reasonable hour, they would try to get together late afternoon to see if they could locate more samples.
It was good that the day was so pleasant. The sun shone brightly but the heat was not blistering. It was a Saturday morning and the streets of downtown Dahlonega were full with tourists and locals alike. It would be this way throughout the harvesting season which was good for the local businesses. Much of their annual revenue came from the harvesting season and business owners put out their best wares; trying to capitalize especially on tourist dollars. No matter where she went, Vivica’s brightly colored bicycle with an old fashion basket filled with colorful flowers always drew attention. Even if people had no intentions of buying flowers, by the time they saw Vivica, saw the beautiful display and smelled the fragrant blossoms, they left with one or more bouquets of flowers. Seeing customers so happy convinced Vivica more and more than the flower shop really had a chance, and that she was doing the right thing. It felt good to enjoy the work and finally feel like she found her purpose.
Within a few hours, Vivica’s basket was nearly empty. If people were suspicious of her about the Wyatt case, Vivica didn’t get that sense today. True, many of the people she sold to were tourists; however, even the locals she encountered were pleasant. If they were giving her the side-eye, or whispering with speculation, they kept it out of Vivica’s sight. It was early yet, giving her plenty of time to make her deliveries and still have some time left in the day to follow up on the case. Parking her bike against the sidewalk wall, Vivica decided to sell the last few bouquets where she was. It was good to stretch her legs after a full morning of riding.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Ms. Sunshine.”
Vivica didn’t need to turn around to know exactly who the nasally, whiny, irritating voice came from.
“And a murderer too, or so I hear.”
Ignoring Cindy Rose had never been easy. She was the kind who would keep coming and keep insulting until she got a rise out of whomever her evil cared to mess with. As much as Vivica understood that, she couldn’t resist responding. Knowing Cindy Rose said it loud enough for the people walking by to hear and knowing full well her intention to discredit Vivica at every turn, Vivica couldn’t ignore the slight.
“What do you want, Cindy Rose?”
The two women faced each other like cowboys in the Wild West. The sidewalk around them cleared out of nowhere as if the tension and angst between the two kept people away.
Cindy Rose wore a slithering smile that looked evil even under hot pink lip gloss. She sized Vivica up; her disdain for Vivica showing as Cindy Rose practically snarled as she looked Vivica up and down.
“When I heard that you were at that poor dead man’s house, and that everyone thinks you killed him, I said to myself, she probably did.” Cindy Rose’s smile turned into high pitched haughty laughter and then it ended when she set her eyes back on Vivica Meadows.
Vivica’s natural reaction was to lash out, physically first and then follow up with a few choice words. They glared at each other, both through slitted eyes and wrinkled brows. Decidedly, Vivica was at a disadvantage that she immediately recognized. Cindy Rose was no fool. That’s why she approached Vivica on a public street while she
was in the process of conducting business. That’s why it was necessary for Vivica to stand right in front of Cindy Rose. What she had to say to Cindy, Vivica didn’t want the people around, customers or otherwise to hear. If she acted unseemly in public, that would just fuel the rumor mill that maybe, just maybe she had violent tendencies and peoples’ impressions of her would worsen instead of improving.
“Why,” Vivica asked through clenched. She spoke only loud enough for Cindy Rose to hear. Cindy did her best to hold her position. Instead of stepping back when Vivica walked so boldly upon her, Cindy Rose smiled and leaned slightly back. She didn’t appreciate the invasion of personal space but she refused to look weak in front of Vivica.
“Because I can,” Cindy Rose uttered. There was some truth to that. Her family’s influence in the city of Dahlonega gave Cindy Rose certain advantages and overlooks most others would not receive. So, she could just about say what she wanted to say and do anything she wanted to do. Money buys friends and influences in both high and low places and Cindy was never ashamed to take advantage of her position.
“I have never done anything to you,” Vivica seethed. “Yet you make it your personal business to try and make my life miserable. And I want to know why?”
Cindy Rose wasn’t used to Vivica being so direct, so strong, standing up for herself. Cindy was taken aback; not sure where all this inner strength was coming from, considering the predicament Vivica found herself in.
The smile that moved across Cindy’s lips would disarm most. It had done the same to Vivica many a time before. Vivica wanted to believe Cindy Rose was a good person despite the things she’d done even to Vivica. Yet, she continued to show colors that were undeniable.
“I deserve to know why you treat me this way,” Vivica demanded. This was more than about Cindy Roses’ callously spoken words said to incite Vivica. This was about all of it. “You fake like we are friends, but we’ve never been friends, Cindy, not real friends.”
Cindy acted as though the words Vivica said didn’t matter. But as much as Cindy Rose tried to steel her prickly disposition, what Vivica said penetrated through, forcing her to face the real reasons she behaved the way she did. Yet, Cindy was not willing to be honest, or redefine the parameters of the relationship with Vivica she’d nurtured for so many years. She was who she was and Vivica would be what she’d always been to Cindy – a pain in her side. Cindy would never admit that although her parents were regarded as pillars of the community, they were distant parents; never forging real relationships with their children. Cindy didn’t have an amazing mother-daughter relationship. Theirs was more a relationship of convenience, when there was a benefit to showing a loving side, they showed it. If there was no familial or business benefit, then it wasn’t shown. The connection between Cindy Rose and her parents wasn’t genuine and Cindy despised her parents for that. She saw how Vivica and her parents got on; how Vivica and her mother genuinely seemed to care about each other, even like each other. Whatever Vivica participated in before her parents died, they were there for her cheering loudly and celebrating even the smallest of accomplishments. They had such a perfect relationship that wasn’t just for show. And even after Vivica’s parents died, she was still ladled with love from her Auntie. It wasn’t fair and Cindy Rose didn’t like it. What made Vivica so deserving of so much?
She had to regain the upper-hand and put Vivica back in her place.
“How can you live with yourself doing something so horrible to an innocent old man?” The snide remark barely had room to settle in Vivica’s ears before Cindy added insult to injury. “I hope they put you in jail and throw away the key for what you did.”
Before Vivica could open her mouth to refute the foul statements, Cindy Rose had already turned around and sashayed away. Throwing something at the back of her head crossed Vivica’s mind; something heavy. But, she was a businesswoman out trying to serve her community. Vivica couldn’t resort to violence although she strongly considered it. Visualizing Cindy Rose getting plunked in the back of the head and falling forward on her snarky-little face wasn’t a crime though? Was it?
That last bit eased some of Vivica’s angst and she even smirked at the thought of it. However, as Vivica continued to sell her wares, the harsh and hate-filled words Vivica spoke still stung.
She’s so mean and evil, she’s probably got oleander growing in her backyard, Vivica thought smugly.
After all the deliveries were done, Vivica sat on her bed with her feet up and called Winifred.
“You wouldn’t believe who I ran into downtown,” Vivica fumed even hours after.
Winifred had had a long day too, but this sounded way more interesting than student-teacher conferences.
“How many guesses do I get,” Winnie teased. She still hadn’t completely forgiven Vivica for practically giving Winnie back to back heart attacks over the past 24 hours. Winifred knew exactly who Vivica ran into just by the sound of Vivica’s voice. Nobody got Vivica’s juices boiling like Cindy Rose.
“Yes, it was Cindy Rose… arugghhh,” Vivica groaned. “Would you believe she called me a murderer, right to my face? Said how she hoped they found me guilty and threw me in jail and locked away the key??”
Snatching the pillow from behind her head, Vivica punched it repeatedly, imagining it to be something, somebody else. She grunted as she punched.
“What are you doing,” Winifred asked; only benefitting from the angry sounds through the telephone.
“Taking my frustrations out on this goose-down pillow,” Vivica muttered.
“We have to figure this case out,” Vivica said. “Are you up to going out with me,” Vivica asked.
“I wish I could,” Winifred replied. “But Jacob’s called for family night since he’s been working so much.”
“No, you don’t have to say anymore. That’s important so I get it.”
“What you’re doing is important too,” Winifred added. “I can’t help this evening but I’m all yours if you need me tomorrow after the boys go to school.”
The two friends ended their conversation. Once the line disconnected from Winifred, Vivica immediately dialed the police department. Max decided to join her in the bed, climbing the staircase made especially for dogs with short legs. His heft made indents in the bed, and then when he turned in a circle three or four times to find his spot, the bed sunk under him.
“Dahlonega Police Department, Sheriff Harper, how may I help you?”
“It’s Vivica,” as if that was enough to let him know what she wanted.
“Hi, Vivica. We don’t have an answer back yet.” She was singularly minded when focused so Johnathan figured he would cut to the chase.
“I wanted to run this by you,” Vivica began, not waiting long enough for Johnathan to acknowledge her statement. “Would it even make sense to try and find more plants? I mean, if the testing is going to take two to three days to process, is there something else I, I mean we, can focus on that would move the case along?”
“The only other thing outside of the partial fingerprint that we’re waiting on is the interviews Gathright conducted in the neighborhood. We’ve had a few phone calls about the case but nothing really to go on, not like a lead.”
“Hmm,” Vivica uttered. There had to be something she could do to help expedite the matter. She couldn’t sit idly by doing nothing and if what she intended to do wasn’t paying off, there was no sense in continuing along the same path.
“Was there anything promising with the neighborhood interviews?”
Johnathan couldn’t recall Bo saying anything that stood out.
“Hey Bo, come here for a sec.”
Vivica could hear the line on the phone open up.
“I’ve got Ms. Meadows on speaker phone,” Harper said. “Was there anything that stood out from your interviews in the neighborhood?”
Bo was reticent to say anything. Harper already knew how Gathright felt about having a citizen working official business; especially one he wa
sn’t convinced had nothing to do with the case.
The huff that spilled from Bo’s lips was purposely loud enough for Vivica to hear.
“Not much. Like I said before, most of the people in the neighborhood had nothing but good things to say about the victim.”
What Bo said certainly wasn’t helpful.
“Did anyone conversation stand out? Did someone show a lot of emotion when talking about Mr. Wyatt?”
The question came from Vivica and Gathright basically ignored her. All of a sudden, the phone sounded muffled like Johnathan manipulated the phone in some way so Vivica couldn’t hear. She could hear some words being exchanged on the other end, but they weren’t clear. Vivica pressed the phone closer to her ear thinking that might help. It didn’t.
On the other end of the line, Johnathan gave Gathright a piece of his mind.
“Listen, despite what you think about this situation, nothing Ms. Meadows has done has hurt this investigation in the least. To be a professional, you must learn to put your personal feelings aside. Do you understand?”
Gathright didn’t appreciate the chastisement, not with the possibility of someone outside of the blue wall hearing it. Still, he knew that what the sheriff said was right, and not just limited to this case. Bo took it like a man and nodded his head in acceptance.
“Now, since we got that out of the way, answer the young ladies’ question.”
Johnathan adjusted the phone and the line cleared.
“I missed some neighbors because they weren’t home. There was one person who responded like she had a more personal relationship with Mr. Wyatt than any of the others I spoke with.”
“What was that,” Vivica asked eagerly. She wanted to pry more, ask more questions like what exactly Ms. Nicholson said or how she reacted. She didn’t want to press though. Bo was not a fan of hers and she knew it.
“A Ms. Pearl Nicholson. She lives at 8390 Remington Court.”
