The Begonia Bribe

by Alyse Carlson

  “Is there a problem, Jake?” she asked as she approached.

  “I don’t think you need to worry, Cam.” He wouldn’t meet her eye, which reversed the meaning of his words. “We just have some questions for Mr. Stevens.”

  Stevens. She had never heard that as Dylan’s last name.

  “Dylan, you’re not . . .”

  “Stevens? No. My last name is Markham.”

  “Then why . . .”

  “He never married my mother.” He left it at that. “I’ll call you or Benny when I can get back to my schedule.” He walked away with Jake and didn’t look back.

  Cam wondered how small a town Roanoke really was that a pseudo thug could be son of one of its most famous members. It made her wonder who Dylan’s mother was, though given Dylan’s looks, she was probably very pretty—just the type Telly Stevens had seemed to take advantage of.

  As Cam waited for Benny, her cell phone rang. It was Mindy, nearly in tears.

  “Cam, Barry called! He wants to take the girls for the afternoon, but I’m really worried if he takes them, I won’t get them back! Please! Do you know somewhere to hide us? I can’t take our car. I’m worried he’ll tap into our GPS tracker. It’s how he found out where we’re staying.”

  “There’s no . . . court order, is there? To let him, I mean?” Cam was worried about breaking the law. This domain could be so touchy.

  “No! He never wanted to talk custody until recently. We’re not even divorced, but I’m scared.” Her voice quivered and Cam gave in.

  “You’re only about eight blocks from Sweet Surprise—Annie’s store. Go there as soon as rehearsals are over and I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.” She relayed the address and gave directions, then hung up, thinking the day couldn’t get any more complicated.

  “And this was supposed to be my easy day,” she grumbled.

  “Talking to yourself might make people think you’re unstable, Miz Harris.”

  “Benny! Thank goodness!” She almost spilled the beans about Dylan being the son of the dead man, but decided that if Dylan wanted people to know, he would tell them. “Are you okay with a longer shift?”

  “Scooter’s coming soon. I got it covered. Then I’ll be back for six to midnight. Don’t you worry.”

  Benny’s reassurances didn’t help. She needed to call Annie and get to the cupcake shop before someone, namely Annie, blew a gasket about the unexpected guests.

  She rushed back to the office to tell Evangeline she’d be available on her cell, only to find Barry Blankenship, culprit of the hour, hovering outside the elevator.

  “Oh! Hello!”

  “I wondered . . . my daughters are in the pageant . . .”

  “You’re the man who asked about Evangeline the other night,” Cam said. She didn’t want to let on how much she actually knew about him.

  “I am.” He didn’t look thrilled to be remembered that way.

  “Are you also the one who’s been calling Evangeline?”

  “What? Well, maybe a few times.”

  Cam almost called him by name, but caught herself. “If your name is on the forms, I can share information with you. Otherwise, it violates the legal agreement we have with the contestants. Who are your daughters?”

  “Are there a lot of sisters?”

  “Sir, for all I know, your daughters are by different mamas and have nothing to do with the other besides you. You said plural, so I said plural. If it’s just one, it’s easier.”

  “I think you know who I am.”

  “And I think you know the law is on my side.”

  Evangeline walked out then and stared down Barry.

  “I blocked your number, so now you turn up here?” she said.

  “I want to see my daughters.”

  “I explained that, legally, his name has to be on the documents,” Cam said.

  Her phone buzzed. She looked at both Evangeline and Barry, as if daring them to stop her from answering.

  “Cam Harris,” she answered, her neck prickling from the uncomfortable conversation.

  “What the hell did you send them here for?” Annie snarled.

  “I don’t know. My afternoon is swamped, but I’ll see what I can do,” Cam said, hoping Annie would take the hint.

  “You owe me!”

  “Oh, thank goodness. As soon as I can, then.” She hung up.

  “Barry, I’ll get a restraining order if I have to,” Evangeline said.

  “Did you want to give me a card or something?” Cam said, hoping to defuse the standoff. “I can check the lists. Your daughters’ names would help, too.”

  Barry glared and got on the elevator without sharing a card or any names.

  Evangeline looked at Cam curiously. “So you know the story with his daughters?”

  “I think so. He left the mom . . . completely for about nine months, but now seems to want custody of his daughters again. My guess is a lawyer told him how much a rich son-of-a-gun has to pay in child support if he’s not the custodial parent.”

  “That sounds about right. And your phone call?”

  “Personal obligation this afternoon.” Cam didn’t want to put Evangeline in an awkward position legally or ethically. “I’ll have my phone and computer. You okay here?”

  “You’ve put out the fires this week. I suppose it’s my turn.”

  * * *

  Cam made her way to Sweet Surprise, only to ask Annie another favor. She needed Annie’s car to take Mindy and the girls to her house so they’d be more comfortable for the afternoon and evening. They could do the research there for the Green Project, which both were scheduled for.

  When she arrived at Sweet Surprise, she whispered to Annie that the deadbeat dad was trying to change his mind about custody and they were stuck. She looked up at Lauren frosting cupcakes and Lizzie adding sprinkles, her mermaid book off to the side like a security blanket. Cam figured the only real tension was with Mindy, who was surely eating crow after accepting Annie’s help. Annie could act as irritable as she wanted. She’d won the battle of “who has a better life.” Still, a little bribery could never hurt. Cam offered to buy Annie a six-pack of the finest microbrew and a bottle of Mexican vanilla, and then they might call it even.

  “You girls ready to go relax for a bit?” Cam asked.

  “No!” Lizzie yelled. “It’s fun here!”

  “I have it on good authority that Annie has to clean up next. Do you want to scrub the floor?”

  “No, thank you.” She frowned very seriously.

  “I’ll tell you what. For supper, we’ll order some pizzas and Annie can come over. Does that sound okay?”

  “Yes!” both girls shouted together.

  Cam went over and hugged Annie, shoving a twenty in her pocket. “Buy whatever beer you need to make this bearable. Pizza is on us.”

  “Can the boys come?” Annie asked.

  “Yeah, that’s probably best.”

  “Tell Rob to bring the beer for you and him. I can’t be seen buying that stuff. I have a reputation to uphold.”

  It was a jab, to be sure, but one Cam was familiar with. Annie liked locally brewed, strong beer. “If you can see through it, why bother?” was her motto. Cam and Rob tended to go with lower-calorie options. Cam could take the teasing. What she couldn’t seem to take was the alcohol content in the strong stuff. She was a lightweight.

  * * *

  Davy Jones, the neighborhood stray, greeted them outside and it took some effort to convince the girls he didn’t really need to be invited in. Cam watched Mindy’s face as they entered the lower level of the split house Cam shared with Annie. She could see Mindy examining the little house, probably fighting her snobbery, but the girls jumped onto her futon in the front room and Cam turned on the Disney Channel.

  She looked back at Mindy, who was biting her finger and looking distraught.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m just mad at myself—buying into all that ‘stuff matters’ and marrying for security
without learning to create my own.” She sniffed heavily and sat at Cam’s kitchen table, out of view of her daughters.

  Cam wasn’t sure how to respond. “Do you want some tea? Wine?”

  “Tea’s good.”

  Mindy was crying openly now. Cam decided just to listen if Mindy needed to talk. She filled the teapot and put it on the burner, then occupied herself putting teabags in a bowl, then sugar and cream. When she had the pieces assembled, she put them all onto a tray.

  Mindy continued to whimper about choices wasted and never having had to support herself before.

  “I mean, what can I do? The last job I had, I was twenty-three and living with my parents.”

  “I’m sure you have plenty of skills. What was your degree in?”

  Mindy sniffed. “French. And I haven’t spoken it since Barry and I honeymooned in Quebec.”

  “The girls seem well-adjusted. You’ve been a good mother. That’s important.”

  “Lauren blames me for their dad leaving, and I don’t even understand Lizzie. She’s like some foreign thing.”

  Cam frowned. At least Mindy and Lizzie were on the same page about their relationship. That was something.

  Cam excused herself for a little while to make the calls she needed to double-check everything, then she called Rob and explained the situation. Mindy thumbed through a gardening magazine, but Cam was sure she didn’t really see anything. Cam took the girls to and from an afternoon rehearsal, feeling Mindy needed the downtime. When they returned, the girls took turns at the computer for an hour, then Lauren got back to television and Lizzie curled up on a chair with her book. Mindy was still in a funk and couldn’t even help Lauren sort through a tiered compost bin she was trying to design. Cam wished she could help, but as pageant staff, she felt it would be cheating. Instead, she gave Lauren some websites to check.

  The girls giggled in the other room and Cam went out to talk to them. “What kind of pizza do you girls eat?”

  Mindy spoke behind her. “Just cheese—that’s normal, right?”

  Cam suspected pepperoni was more common, but since she planned on veggie for her and Rob—a choice she knew Annie could live with if they got a side of jalapeños—she just shrugged and ordered one of each. Jake, the lone meat-eater, would have to cope somehow.

  * * *

  Annie and Rob arrived together, coming through the back door. Since Cam had borrowed Annie’s car, she’d asked Rob to swing by and pick up Annie on his way over. Each of them carried in a six-pack of beer and stuck them in Cam’s fridge.

  “We won’t insist you partake,” Annie said to Mindy.

  Cam made a face at Annie, hoping Mindy wouldn’t hear it for the rudeness it was.

  “When’s Jake getting here?” Cam asked.

  “His shift ended at four, but he’s got the paperwork piece after that, and . . .”

  “Yeah . . . I know murder investigations make for a busy day.”

  Mindy’s expression changed, then changed again. She finally found some resolve and went into the front room to see her daughters. When Lizzie heard Annie’s name, though, she shrieked and ran back to the kitchen, hugging her.

  “Hey, squirt. What are you watching?”

  Lizzie shrugged and took Annie’s hand, leading her back to the television.

  “You hear anything?” Rob asked.

  Cam shook her head, though that wasn’t strictly true. “You?”

  He made a disgruntled face. He hadn’t, either.

  “Guess at the moment this mystery rests with Jake,” Cam said.

  “Unfortunately, I think he feels burned by the last time,” Rob said. “He hasn’t shared nearly as much.”

  Cam and Rob had both gotten a lot of information from Jake the last time there’d been a murder. And both had done a fair bit of investigating on their own, which Jake didn’t like. “I think we should pool what we know, even if it isn’t much, so he will trade with us.”

  Cam smiled and hugged him. It was nice that Rob could be a little devious in the same way she was. Neither of them would ever withhold anything from the police that would keep a crime from being solved. But they both had some skill maneuvering facts so they could obtain as much extra information as was available.

  They liked Jake, but as a cop, Jake’s job was to keep quiet as much as possible. Cam, under the heading of damage control, needed better information than that. Rob, a newspaper reporter, needed as much as he could possibly get.

  * * *

  Jake arrived about fifteen minutes after the pizza.

  They all met in the front room. Cam noticed Jake looking strangely at Mindy and she remembered the questioning he’d given her. At the moment, though, it seemed like Mindy’s fear for her kids was more important to Mindy than any residual awkwardness from the questioning, so she didn’t seem to mind Jake was there. After they ate, Cam surveyed the leftovers and her companions and said, “Look at the time! You two girls need to be up early. One more slice of pizza and then Rob will give you a ride back to your hotel.”

  They started to complain, but when Lizzie yawned, they gave in.

  “Thank you so much for having us here. I couldn’t have faced Barry tonight—not after that questioning,” Mindy whispered just out of earshot of her children.

  “I’m sure there were several of those arguments,” Cam tried to reassure her. “Telly seemed to make a lot of people mad.”

  “Maybe. But I’m sure I was the only one stupid enough to be seen. Even if there were lots of arguments, since mine was the only one witnessed, they wouldn’t believe every other mother here had probably had the exact same argument with him. He was a horrible man.”

  Mindy saw Rob pull out a notebook and gasped. “You’re not reporting on this, are you?”

  “It’s a good story.”

  “You can’t write that! I didn’t kill him!”

  “They thought you did it?” Rob looked at Cam. She could have died. They hadn’t gotten around to Mindy being questioned yet. Dylan, either, for that matter. She’d been saving her news for later, or so she had told herself.

  Jake approached and Cam looked to him. “There was a whiskey bottle in Telly Stevens’s office that was half oleander, according to the medical examiner. It was either murder or suicide, and nothing I’ve heard today leads me to believe the man had enough depth of feeling for suicide. So thank you for being so observant, Cam. We will have to go through the log of gifts, but chances are this bottle was sent anonymously.”

  Lauren looked over at them in alarm. Cam tried to give a warning look, but Jake was done and seemed not to be paying attention. He had turned back to his pizza choices.

  When the girls had finished, Rob drove them and their mom back to the Travelodge and Cam pounced on Jake.

  “Please keep murder speculation to a minimum this week.”

  “Cam, poison is usually murder. Besides, Rob’s been shadowing me on this anyway, so I know you will hear everything he does.”

  “So, who are you looking at? At least nobody from my friend list, I hope.”

  “I can’t talk to you about this.”

  Cam looked at Annie, who shrugged. Cam suggested tequila, hoping to extend conversation and maybe loosen Jake’s tongue, but Annie suggested they go. She held out her hand and Jake took it, following Annie out the back door. It was some time before Cam heard the single set of footsteps on the stairs, which meant either Annie or Jake had decided to call it an early night.

  It was probably for the best. In fact, Annie had probably saved Cam from alienating Jake permanently. Besides, they all had a big day the next day.

  * * *

  As she was finishing up dishes, she heard an unfamiliar pounding on her front door. People had fairly individualized knocks, but her most regular guests typically just let themselves in after a warning knock or two. This was someone who didn’t visit her regularly.

  Cam dried her hands and made her way to the front door. A small window in the top of the door revealed a sandy head
of hair. She stood on tiptoes far enough to recognize Benny’s eye and opened the door.

  Benny burst in, followed more slowly by Dylan.

  “Hi. Um . . . is there a problem?” Cam asked. “Is the vandal back?”

  “No, this isn’t about the pageant . . . well, not exactly. It’s . . . well, Dylan here . . .”

  Dylan wasn’t wearing his naughty smirk, and Cam thought he looked worried.

  “It’s like this, Miz Harris,” Benny said, his words coming in spurts. “Remember how you solved the murder a couple months ago?”

  “That wasn’t exactly . . .”

  “Yes, it was! I know the killer tried to frame your friend, so you solved it.”

  “Well, I guess . . .”

  “The police are asking a lot of questions like Dylan did it. We wondered . . . well, I suggested . . . I thought maybe you could find out who did it, so Dylan doesn’t have to go to jail.”

  “Benny, I’m not a detective. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  “But you’re so smart! I know you could do it.”

  Benny played this very well—complimenting smart people and playing a bit dim himself was something he’d perfected, but Cam knew it was mostly an act.

  She almost told him off because his game irked her a little—at least the idea that he was still trying to play it with her. Then she saw Dylan. He was licking his lips like a man lost in the desert. His demeanor was very different from the cocky man he usually was.

  “Sit.” She gestured toward the couch. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Beer?”

  “Beer’s good,” Benny said.

  “Dylan?” Cam asked.

  He nodded. He still hadn’t said anything.

  She took them their beers and then opened a Diet Pepsi for herself and sat.

  “What makes you think they’ll blame you?” Cam asked.

  Dylan looked up, took a drink, and then straightened a little. Cam thought he didn’t really want to be there.

  “I guess there’s the money. A will. It’s . . . I didn’t even know there was a will, but that producer woman let me have it when she realized who I was.”

  “Let you have it, how?”

  “I walked her inside her house—to make sure she was okay, like you said. I never put it all together. But inside there were old pictures—a local television award, stuff like that. And it was the show my mom had been on. Before she had me, she was a weather girl on a morning show and then she got fired when she got pregnant. I knew it was the show, so I said it to the woman—that Towers-whatever . . . and she got really mad. She threw things and told me to get out.