Dahlias and Death

by London Lovett

  Dash touched my arm and motioned for me to follow him out to the porch. "Nice meeting you both. I'm sure we'll see more of each other this week."

  Mom's face dropped like a failed cheese soufflé. "But aren't you going to stay? I'm sure this Elsie woman baked a wonderful dessert." My earlier notion that Mom would quickly bond with Elsie deflated just like her face. I'd told Mom about Elsie and her baking talents many times.

  "Another time," Dash said. "My dog will be waiting for his dinner."

  I walked out to the porch with him. "Did I exaggerate?" I asked.

  "You did not. But I like them both."

  "Well, that shine might wear off when Mom brings you a catalog for groom tuxes. In case you need one, wink wink, nod nod."

  Dash laughed. "That's why I wanted to talk to you outside. I know this is late notice, but I was wondering if you'd go with me to Wednesday night's firework show? We don't have to call it a date. I know. You've made it clear that we are just friends. But it has somehow morphed into a couples' thing, and I find myself without a couple. Or, more clearly, you're the woman I'd like to sit and do 'ooos and awws' with."

  He finished his long invitation, but I was still not solid on how to answer. Guess the simple truth was always best. "Dash, I've already got a date. A couple. A person to—You get it."

  Dash's green eyes showed a hint of hurt. "I guess I should've figured you were going with Briggs. I was just assuming that Detective Bah Humbug would be skipping the holiday."

  I tilted my head and peered up at him to show my disapproval.

  "Right. Sorry, Lacey. I'll see you later. Have fun with your visitors." He was working hard to keep the disappointment out of his tone.

  "Drop by later for a piece of Elsie's dessert. I'm sure you'll be able to taste all of my talents through her Blueberry Delight." Humor was my go to tactic whenever the conversation between us got sticky. It usually worked but not tonight.

  Even Dash's Hollywood smile was less dazzling as he walked away.

  Chapter 6

  The smell of bacon was so powerful it woke me from a deep sleep. Before opening my eyes or lifting my head from the pillow, I kicked my feet back and forth under the covers to feel for Nevermore's weighty body. No cat. Super sleuth that I was, I quickly connected the cat's mysterious disappearance to the bacon aroma.

  I rubbed my eyes and squinted into the daylight coming down the hallway. Mom must have performed her 'open the windows and let the world in' routine. It was a habit that made me cringe in high school. I'd be buried deeply in some teenage dream only to have my mom throw open my bedroom curtains to 'let the world in'. Unfortunately, with the way my room was positioned, the world also meant blinding early morning sunshine.

  I picked up my phone to find out why the alarm hadn't gone off. I quickly discovered the reason. I still had another half hour of blissful sleep. I pulled on my robe and padded down the hallway on bare feet. The sound of my dad's voice and bacon sizzling on the frying pan instantly transported me back to my childhood. I'd wake up on Sunday and hurry to the kitchen where Mom would be preparing breakfast and Dad would be leaning over the Sunday paper grousing about the terrible world news.

  I reached my kitchen. Only my mom would remember to pack one of her hundred multi-colored aprons for a vacation. Nevermore was sitting obediently at her feet waiting for fate to step in and drop a piece of egg or bacon his way. Dad was standing in the front room giving Kingston a treat. The only newspaper beneath him was the paper lining Kingston's cage.

  Dad was beaming proudly as he said good morning. "Hey, kiddo, I think your bird really likes me." Kingston danced as Dad reached into the treat can and pulled out another peanut butter flavored dog snack. Kingston took it greedily and carried it to his favorite part of the perch to eat it. Dad reached for another treat.

  "Wait, Dad, how many of those have you given him?"

  Dad shrugged. "Haven't been counting."

  I walked over and took the can from him. "If you have to use the word counting in your answer, then he's already had too many. He'll be twittering and chattering like a kid on the morning after Halloween."

  Dad laughed. "Can birds get sugar highs?"

  "Not sure about birds." I put the lid on the can to assure Kingston his morning of glorious gluttony had ended. "But Kingston stopped being a bird when he started insisting that he eat his cereal from a bowl."

  "Breakfast is ready," Mom called from her—uh, my kitchen. She placed plates on my tiny kitchen table that were piled so high with eggs, bacon and biscuits, I worried about the legs on my wobbly, little table.

  Mom caught my hesitation. "Sit down and eat, Lacey. You look thin. I'll bet it's been a long time since you've had a home-cooked meal."

  "Unless you count all the meals I make myself . . . here . . . at home. And besides, I'm not skinny. My shop is right next to Elsie's bakery. She brings me goodies and samples all day."

  Dad adjusted his pants that were now buckled beneath his round waist before sitting to his plate. "That berry dessert was sure delicious."

  Mom shrugged and made a sort of puffy sound. "I mean, you can't really go wrong with cream cheese and syrup glazed berries."

  "Mom," I said with an exaggerated sigh. "You haven't met Elsie, but it seems you've already formed an opinion of her." I poured myself a glass of juice.

  Dad shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth but that didn't stop him from talking. "Your mom—" He chewed quickly and swallowed. "Your mom is jealous of Elsie because they are the same age but you spend much more time with Elsie than her. She thinks she's been replaced."

  Mom crossed her arms and blinked hard at Dad. He just kept eating, ignoring the laser eyed glare being pointed his direction. "If I'd wanted to tell her that, Stanley, I would have told her myself."

  "Mom, I spend more time with her because you are in a different state, and Elsie is literally fifty steps away in her bakery. She's a good friend, yes. But you're my mom and good friend. So you have two titles. She only has one."

  "Unless you count best baker," Dad added unhelpfully as he smeared butter on his biscuit.

  I tapped his foot to let him know he had once again earned a scowl. Dad looked up and smiled. "But of course, you are best baker too, Peg. So that gives you three titles."

  "Stan, shut up and eat your breakfast." Mom picked up her napkin and placed it on her lap. "Thank you, Lacey. That's very nice of you to say."

  "Just give Elsie a chance, Mom. I think you'll like her." I picked up a piece of bacon. "What are you two sporty, top down travelers going to do today? Cruise the coast?"

  Mom stopped halfway to her biscuit. "We thought we might just shop around town. Check out your store. See what you're up to."

  I knew my chin had dropped onto the table but I couldn't seem to lift it back up.

  Dad laughed. "You got her good, Peggy."

  Mom smiled and took a bite.

  "Phew. Not that I mind having you guys hang around," I said quickly.

  Mom reached for her juice. "Relax, sweetie. We aren't going to get in the way of your life while we're here. Not too much, anyhow." She followed that declaration with her next prying question. "When will we meet the elusive mysterious detective you talk so much about?"

  After the ridiculous matchmaker show Mom put on in front of Dash the night before, I was looking less forward to introducing her to Briggs. But I was sure the moment was unavoidable. For now, there were always stalling tactics. "Detective Briggs is always very busy, Mom. He covers this whole stretch of coast and for such small towns there always seems to be some kind of mayhem taking place. From my experience, there could be foul play or even a murder at any moment." The last came from a touch of grim wishful thinking. I loved a good mystery but things had been pretty calm since spring when a promising artist was murdered near the Pickford Lighthouse.

  Dad stopped vacuuming the breakfast long enough to talk. "You know, I think I'd really like to see that Hawksville place you told us about at Christmas."

/>   Mom rolled her eyes. "I guess we know where you inherited that ghoulish curiosity from."

  "Ghoulish? That's an adjective I never expected to hear my own mom use about me." I turned to Dad. "It's actually Hawksworth. And we can walk up there later to satisfy our ghoulish cravings." I winked at him.

  "Perfect." Dad slathered more butter on his biscuit.

  I finished a piece of bacon and discretely handed Nevermore a bit of egg. I downed one biscuit that was dripping in butter, but I'd reached my capacity. I never ate a lot in the morning. "Mom, this breakfast is delicious but I can't eat all of this. I'm riding my bicycle to work. I'm pretty sure I won't make it if I'm filled with all this food."

  "But all those eggs will go to waste," Mom lamented. "I know, I'll put them between some toast and mayonnaise and top the whole thing with fresh tomatoes. You can eat it for lunch. It'll be like having an egg salad sandwich." She stood right up to proceed with her plan. "I wonder if Elsie is clever enough to think of a second use for scrambled eggs?"

  "It's only a sandwich, Peggy. Not a cure for cancer." Dad snuck me a wink. "Guess you'll be just as glad to see the backside of us when we head home," Dad muttered quietly over his cup of coffee.

  I reached over and squeezed his arm. "Nonsense. I love seeing you both. Have fun today and try not to get lost."

  "Yeah, tell that to the 'crazy map lady' in my phone."

  Chapter 7

  A drifty, fast moving coastal fog was just receding from the town as I rolled up to the flower shop on my bicycle. The damp air gave an extra kick to my already curly hair. I was trying to tame an overexcited ringlet when I ran into Kate Yardley as she headed toward Elsie's Sugar and Spice Bakery. Kate was the fashion icon of the town. And while I'd at least taken the time to splash on some mascara to go with my pink t-shirt and shorts, Kate was dressed, styled and made up for a walk down a runway. The adorable mini sailor dress she wore had big brass buttons and a cute blue collar. Kate transformed her appearance from day to day but she always looked edgy and cool. Even today, with the red, white and blue stripes in her bangs. I, on the other hand, had my own ridiculous Shirley Temple look going.

  My usual confidence always took a dive whenever I came face to face with Kate. And it seemed that was about to happen. Kate headed past Elsie's stylish and totally impractical sidewalk furniture to the sidewalk in front of my shop.

  I quickly pushed my unruly locks behind my ears in an attempt to look less clownish. "Morning, Kate. You're out and about early."

  Kate smiled primly, not wanting to appear too friendly, apparently. "I had an urge for one of Elsie's blueberry muffins. I'm sure I'll regret it." She ran her hands down along her waist and hips to remind me that she had a great figure. (Not that I needed the reminder.) "I'll deal with the guilt after the last crumb is gone."

  "You have strong self-control, Kate. That's why you always look fabulous." The one thing I'd learned about Kate was it was always better to give sugar instead of salt in any conversation. The woman could be slightly venomous if given the chance, but flattery always softened her fangs. "Well, I should get inside." I pointed my thumb over my shoulder.

  "Has anyone asked you to the fireworks show?" Kate blurted before I could peel away. We were certainly not in the kind of friendship where it could be considered an appropriate or expected question. But I knew she was asking because she had a major thing for my neighbor, Dash. Apparently, in pre-Pink history, namely the time before my arrival, Dash and Kate had been dating. It had ended, at least according to Dash. Kate still seemed on the fence about it.

  I favored her with a forced smile. "Why, as a matter of fact, yes."

  Kate parted her heavily glossed lips expectantly, waiting for me to fill in details. But I'd given my answer. She didn't need to know who I was going to the festival with. I was sure she'd prod me more, but the whole conversation was cut short when Jenny walked out of the bakery and curtly called Kate's name.

  "Miss Yardley, Kate." Jenny was pointing her librarian's finger as she walked toward us.

  "Oh brother," Kate muttered under her breath.

  Jenny nodded good morning to me and then returned her angry gaze to Kate. I was slightly taken aback. I'd never seen Jenny anything but sweet and amicable. I definitely would not have wanted to talk too loudly in her library. It seemed the scene on the sidewalk was about to get interesting. I knew exactly why Jenny looked so angry and since her ire was pointed at Kate, I made a slow process of parking my bicycle in front of the shop so I could eavesdrop. I wasn't proud of my plan but that didn't stop me.

  "You specifically told me that the patriotic hat I purchased was one of a kind," Jenny said. "Then my friend Molly walked into a garden club meeting with the same hat. Apparently, you sold her the same bill of goods, telling her it was one of a kind. So you lied to both of us."

  I stooped to check the tire pressure on my bike. Of course I had no idea what that meant, a tire was either flat or it wasn't, but I gave them both a good squeeze to make it look official while I waited for Kate's response. With the exception of whenever Dash was nearby, Kate was always cool as a cucumber. This morning was no different, even facing down an angry customer.

  "I didn't lie. If you took the time to check each hat carefully, you'd see that the hat Molly purchased has smaller silver star studs and your hat has two extra rhinestones on the brim. So they are one of a kind."

  Jenny's tongue was caught in disbelief. I couldn't blame her.

  Kate waved at her and sashayed past, deciding she'd won the argument by silencing her opponent.

  I was just about to walk up and pat Jenny on the back to snap her out of her stunned silence but she found her tongue first. "You are a deceptive saleswoman. I will not step foot in your store again. And I'll make sure to let all my friends know too."

  Kate disappeared into the bakery without even a cursory glance back.

  Jenny swung around to me. Her cheeks were dark pink. "Can you believe that?"

  I shook my head. "I'm sorry that happened, Jenny. And I agree. Very deceptive. But it's not anything to let ruin your day. By the way, I'm almost done with the herb pots."

  The new, much more agreeable topic seemed to help cool her down. "Terrific. We'll be setting up in the last booth before the lighthouse lawn. It's a little out of the way, but we snagged a spot under the sprawling mulberry so there'll be some shade."

  "Great. I'll bring the pots by later. And, Jenny, try and have a good day."

  "Thanks, Lacey. I will."

  Ryder had volunteered to open up the shop, thinking I'd be in late because of my parents' visit. Instead, the opposite happened and I was a little early.

  Ryder popped out of the back holding a patriotic bouquet of white daisies, blue stocks and mini red roses. "You're here. Uh oh, trouble with Ma and Pa Pinkerton?"

  I laughed. "No, Ma and Pa are good. But they wanted to get an early start on their day."

  Ryder leaned to look past the bouquet and me. "Where's Kingston?"

  "My dad fed him too many treats this morning. When I opened the cage to shoo him out, he just crouched on his perch looking like my Uncle Robert after his third piece of pumpkin pie. Kingston needs to—as they say—sleep it off."

  I walked to the back to put my egg sandwich in the refrigerator before getting back to work on the herbs. Elsie strode in just as I returned to the shop front. She had her lips turned in as if she had a ripe, plum morsel of information to tell me.

  "Spill it, Elsie. Before your head explodes."

  Elsie bustled forward, like only she could. "Jenny came into the shop this morning." She waved her hand quickly. "Never mind, I know you saw her because the two of you were talking on the sidewalk. Anyhow, she told me in strictest confidence—"

  A short laugh shot from my mouth. "Which is why you marched straight over to fill me in on every juicy detail."

  My sarcastic comment didn't faze her for a moment. "Exactly. Anyhow, Jenny is the main judge for the Fourth of July pie contest. She chooses Molly
every year because, frankly, there just aren't that many good pies entered. I suppose Carla's lemon meringue is pretty good but anyway, I'm trailing off on a pie tangent. Well, Jenny told me she suspected that Molly might have been entering a prebaked pie each year."

  I rubbed my brows trying to figure out what she meant. "As opposed to a raw pie?"

  "No, silly. I mean a pie that she purchased from a bakery and then placed in one of her own pie plates to make it look as if it came right out of her very own kitchen."

  "So Molly has been entering a professional baker's pie. Is it one of yours?"

  Elsie patted my arm to assure me I was being silly again. "No, of course not. Everyone in town knows when they're eating one of my pies."

  I laughed. "The baker said humbly. But you're right. Jenny would be able to recognize one of your pies. How does she know for sure?"

  "I guess she doesn't yet but she's working on it so she can disqualify Molly from the contest."

  I spread my mouth wide. "Whoa, sounds like it could get messy between those two."

  "You wanted to be a member of the club," Elsie reminded me. "How did your parents like the dessert and when do we get to meet them?"

  "They loved it, of course." I thought about Mom's underwhelming assessment, which had more to do with the baker than the dessert. I had no choice but to introduce Elsie to Mom, but I wasn't looking forward to it.

  I forced a smile. "You'll be meeting them soon."

  Chapter 8

  Ryder was whistling every tune he could remember as he finished putting together yellow rose centerpieces for a party. He was always in a good mood, but this morning he was exceptionally happy. I was only guessing but something told me it had to do with Lola going with him to the fireworks show.

  "Someone has taken up the Seven Dwarves mantra of whistling while you work," I said as I placed tiny pots of rosemary in a box.

  "Yep, it's that kind of a morning. Sun is shining. I've got a great boss and I love my job."