The Azalea Assault

by Alyse Carlson

  “Like Evangeline?”

  He eyed her uncomfortably. “He was found under her window. So that would be my guess—unless we figure out a message, I mean. Anything meaningful about jasmine or azalea?”

  “There’s all sorts of flower lore. I’ll bring you a few pages of highlights later if I find anything.” She doubted there was anything related to bodies left in an azalea bush. She left it at that.

  “Are you seeing Annie again?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Supper tonight, I think. It’s a little up in the air because of the investigation.”

  Cam smiled bigger. “I hope it works. And don’t let her claim cops are too straight for her. I think you’d be good for her.”

  It was Jake’s turn to frown.

  “Oh, she didn’t say anything.” She tried hard to reassure him. “I just know. Rules aren’t her strong point.”

  Jake sighed. “And she’ll be worried I’m all about rules.”

  “Maybe. Aren’t you?” Cam hated it when she stuck her foot in her mouth. She was usually a better navigator of conversation, but Annie’s waters held a lot of obstacles.

  Jake looked determined. “Not necessarily. I mean… some rules. But I’m not a goody-two-shoes. So what do you suggest?”

  “Maybe something a little wild and avant-garde?”

  “So being the gentleman last night totally played into her worries?”

  Cam turned and stared. Annie had never said the word “gentleman,” nor had she expressed dissatisfaction about the night. That meant Annie had either misled her or was lying about what she liked.

  “Can I get back to you? I’m getting mixed signals.”

  “What?”

  But Cam darted from Jake, hoping she hadn’t just screwed things up for Annie. She decided she should get back to her job.

  The photography quartet was yelling quite loudly, so once Cam focused her attention, they were easy to locate. She headed in their direction.

  “Cam, wait!”

  She turned back to find Jake still on her heels.

  “I still have people I want to ask about.”

  “Right.”

  “Let’s have a bite of lunch—official business. Then I can ask all the questions.”

  Cam sighed, then nodded. She had to do it eventually. She just wished her first “reveal” had not been to expose her best friend, or that she’d at least have time to give Annie a heads-up.

  Jake drove Cam to 419 West, a nice, middle-of-the-road restaurant that could be dressed up or down, depending on the night and mood.

  “I wanted your opinion on whether Annie would like this. I… well, it’s not as arty as she is… but they have live music next weekend.”

  Cam smiled encouragingly. “It’s good food. You can’t go wrong. Annie will pick arty places if she wants arty places. It’s more a need for spontaneity now and then that I was warning about. And I’ll write you a list of the places that are too arty, if you know what I mean.”

  Jake laughed at that, and then they ordered food and Jake began his more official questions.

  “So, Evangeline. What do you know?”

  “Former beauty queen. Went to Brown. Married a rich, much older man. I’d like to say that made her a bitch, but evidence runs contrary. She actually seems like a nice lady.”

  “You don’t know how she met this rich older guy?”

  Cam shook her head. “They were newlyweds when I started with the Garden Society, but I’ve never heard the story.”

  “Do you know who her friends are? Or were before?”

  Cam shook her head again. “I’ve only seen her with the Garden Society, and all those people are on your list already.”

  “Does she know anyone you know? I mean, besides the Gardening… thing?”

  “She might. She’s only five or six years older than me, and we’re both from Roanoke originally, so I guess it’s possible we know some of the same people, but… not that I’m aware of.”

  “So no other friends?”

  Cam’s frown became a sneer. “Like who?” Jake seemed to be after something, but she had no clue what.

  “Calm down. I’m just trying to get some background information.”

  But Cam no longer felt like that was it. She felt even less comfortable sharing information with Jake as the interview continued, and decided to stick to an “answer only” mode.

  “Tell me about your brother-in-law.”

  “Nick is the first man I’ve ever known who really treats Petunia like she deserves,” Cam said defensively.

  “So she’s been treated badly before?”

  This was a subject Cam could go on and on about, but realized how it looked—like Nick might feel Petunia needed protecting. That was a sentiment likely to backfire.

  “In the past, but really, nobody has done it since Nick came into her life. It’s like he’s a guardian angel, and so long as he’s there, nobody does anything mean.”

  “Are they scared of him?”

  “No!” She was annoyed, now; she realized she’d shouted when people at the next table turned to stare. She lowered her voice. “They just know she’s married and to stay away.”

  “Calm down, Cam, I get that he’s family. I just want to get a feel.”

  “He looks rough, and he was in a punk band, so I’m sure his youth was a little wild, but the whole time I’ve known him—more than four years now—he’s been very sweet and calm.”

  Jake nodded but didn’t look convinced.

  “He bought Spoons for Petunia! Her lifelong dream and she’d never had a hope!”

  “Okay! Nick is a sweetheart. What about Samantha?”

  Cam breathed again, suddenly glad to throw some light on Samantha, after feeling so boxed in about Nick. She detailed her thoughts of the day before, though she volunteered nothing until she was asked—she was rather annoyed with Jake and couldn’t make herself cooperate any more than she absolutely had to. She instinctively felt a little protective of Samantha, but it was a very detached protectiveness compared to what she felt about Nick. It was much easier to reveal what she’d seen and what she knew about her colleague than it had been to speculate about her brother-in-law, and a guilty sense of relief washed over her when Jake seemed to find her theory about Samantha having a history with Jean-Jacques plausible.

  “When do you talk to her?” Cam asked as the questions seemed to wind down.

  “I go there next, though a couple of evidence boys went this morning—Jean-Jacques was staying there.”

  Had Cam not just learned that herself, she might have been shocked.

  Jake looked at his watch and must have decided it was time to hurry, as he jumped back into questions Cam had thought he was done with.

  “Does Evangeline know your brother-in-law?”

  Cam started to shake her head, then remembered the “Jack” episode and finally thought she understood what Jake had been getting at earlier.

  “Maybe, but at the party at Samantha’s she called him Jack, so… not well. She acted like she knew him, but she used the wrong name. Nick didn’t really answer. He seemed uncomfortable, like maybe it was a mistake.”

  “Or maybe he didn’t want you and Petunia to know they knew each other?”

  Cam frowned, remembering Nick’s expression.

  Jake asked a few more questions about Evangeline but then went on to other Garden Society members. He asked about Neil Patrick, whom Cam praised, then Joseph Sadler-Neff, who was a little harder to put into words.

  “He’s brilliant, knowledgewise, but a little socially inept. There is something a little off. I mean he’s polite—obsessive, in fact, about manners. But he doesn’t really relate to people, so he’s hard to know.”

  “That explains some things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Just… odd behavior seen by some of the others.”

  “What others?”

  “Cam, I’m not at liberty…”

  Cam rolled her eyes irritably.
Joseph’s awkward social skills did explain a lot, so the “odd behavior” that “the others” had referred to could be any number of things, but Cam wasn’t happy about Jake’s evasive answers.

  She was relieved when Jake finally put his notebook away, drove her back to La Fontaine, and left for Samantha’s house. She hadn’t liked being questioned about people for whom she felt so responsible.

  “Cam, there you are!” Madeline Leclerc rushed at Cam as soon as she arrived.

  She’d almost forgotten her boss in the chaos.

  “Hi, Madeline. What’s up?”

  “Just… I’m sure nobody in the Roanoke Garden Society had anything to do with this. It’s very important any questions you answer support that!”

  Cam stared at Madeline, thinking she was supposed to read between the lines of what her boss had just said. She thought back to Madeline’s demeanor at the previous day’s meeting of the Garden Society officers, at how desperate she’d been for the photo shoot to go on, and it occurred to her that Madeline would just as soon she made stuff up.

  “I certainly would never make anybody look guilty on purpose.”

  “Camellia, you and I don’t have jobs if there is no Roanoke Garden Society.”

  Cam had worked that much out on her own, but she suspected Madeline thought a single guilty party among the RGS members was a condemnation for the lot of them—something she didn’t believe.

  “I swear I won’t point any undue fingers.”

  Madeline pursed her lips.

  “No fingers at all. RGS needs to come out of this smelling like roses.”

  “Fine. I’ll do my best.”

  Cam thought a cover-up had far greater chances of backfiring than any truth, but at the moment, since nothing was known, there was no need to argue yet. She was just glad Madeline was leaving for the time being.

  CHAPTER 7

  Cam was relieved to finally get inside. Just as she found a quiet corner to breathe for a minute, however, she heard the sputter of Petunia’s minivan. It backfired, as it did more often than not when it stopped, announcing Petunia’s arrival. Curiosity got the better of her, and under the guise of helping with lunch, Cam went out to assault her sister with questions.

  “You having a dry spell in there?” Petunia eyed her suspiciously.

  “Oh, there’s plenty to do, but you’re more important at the moment.”

  Petunia pulled her head out of the back of the minivan and stared at Cam, disbelief etched on her forehead.

  “There’s a first.”

  Cam pushed her way forward and grabbed the salad bowls as Petunia seemed to possess the only hot pads. She followed Petunia through the house to the patio, food in hands.

  “Oh.” Petunia looked at Cam as she set the bowls down and rolled her eyes. “That was heavy.”

  “Everything else was hot. What was I supposed to do?”

  “Get towels from the passenger seat.”

  “And I would know those were there, how?”

  Petunia rolled her eyes again, but Cam followed her back outside anyway. She grabbed two towels from the front seat and helped with the rest of the hot food, though now Petunia complained that the drinks were the heavy part and Cam was slacking by not helping with those. Cam persisted, however, and followed Petunia back out again when lunch was deposited.

  “What?”

  “Sheesh, don’t have kittens. Towels?” Cam handed Petunia back her towels.

  “You would have stopped me on the back porch if that was all. What is it?”

  Cam felt tongue-tied but finally just spit it out. “Did you know Nick was an ex-con?”

  Petunia’s eyes flashed with fear, not surprise. She looked around, then swore. While Cam swore like an off-duty school teacher, Petunia swore like an off-land sailor. Cam didn’t even recognize some of the words. “How’d you find out?” she finally asked.

  Cam moved closer and lowered her voice, then explained what she’d heard, without mentioning Nick was the current favorite suspect. There was no reason for Petunia to get worked up if it didn’t end up going anywhere.

  “I bet that damn Evangeline started this!”

  Cam was startled, as Jake had only recently tried to connect Nick and Evangeline.

  “What would Evangeline have to do with it?”

  “They knew each other in Providence… worked together some. Shoot!”

  “What is it?”

  “We just don’t need this. It’s just her type of drama!”

  “Okay, why are you being so cryptic?” Jake’s questions had at least made sense, Cam thought with growing frustration.

  “Because I’m annoyed. Look, tomorrow is just a cold lunch. I can deliver early. Will you come home with me then? I can explain better there.”

  Petunia’s behavior was mysterious and annoying, but Cam agreed at once. It sure sounded like there was a deeper story, and Petunia clearly wasn’t going to tell it here.

  Cam felt off center that her sister had knowingly married an ex-con and not told her. What’s more, she thought, waiting until the next day to hear the full story might very well kill her. She was not made for this kind of sustained tension!

  She sought Annie, who was leading Hannah and Tom back to the patio for a late lunch, Barney trailing happily behind.

  “You trained the beast,” Cam said, indicating the dog.

  “He’s my best friend, aren’t you, buddy?” Annie picked him up, and he wiggled and licked her face.

  “How’d you do that? I thought he was a one-woman dog.”

  “Trade secret.” Annie smirked.

  Hannah shrugged, though Cam thought it was a “sworn to secrecy” shrug, rather than an unknowing one.

  “Where’s Ian?”

  “Hell if I care,” Annie said.

  “He went for some aspirin. He’ll be over in a little bit,” Hannah added.

  Cam steered them all toward the buffet table of taco fixings, with choices for either traditional tacos or taco salads with beef, chicken, or beans. She was full from her lunch with Jake, but the unanswered questions swimming in her head were making her nuts and she thought they’d be less likely to walk away from her if they were eating. She pulled back on Annie’s elbow.

  “So what was that with Ian? You’ve never met him before, have you?”

  “Of course I haven’t. He’s insane. But I’m starved, and because I was annoyed, I only gave permission for half an hour for lunch. Can we talk after I fill up?”

  “Sure.” Cam yielded and let Annie fill her taco shell with lettuce, tomatoes, beans, and a wide variety of condiments Cam normally avoided, some of which she couldn’t even identify. Annie then seated herself with Hannah and Tom. She obviously preferred to avoid being grilled. It annoyed Cam for only a moment, though, before she shrugged it off.

  “Cammi!” she heard as the doors to the patio slid open and closed.

  “Oh, hi, Mr. Patrick.”

  “And how’s everything going?”

  “Seems to be well.” It was only a little white lie.

  “Ms. Duffy has interviewed a few of us today and feels the mood might improve if we have another little party. I’m happy to host—tomorrow night?”

  “Sure. Even just knowing it is planned should help.”

  “I know your friend is busy with pictures, but Samantha says she makes the best brownies in town.”

  “That’s true. They’re wonderful.”

  “Do you think she could make some for the party?”

  “I’ll see if she can fit them in.” Cam smiled. Heck, she’d borrow Annie’s recipe and bake them herself if it would turn this shoot around.

  By the time she sat back down with Annie and the magazine crew, they were finishing; Ian was still nowhere in sight.

  “Is it at all possible to make brownies for twenty for tomorrow night?”

  “See, that’s what I love about you, Cam… give, give, give. Never asking for anything in return.”

  “Annie, I’m sorry. Samantha specif
ically mentioned your brownies! It’s not my fault they’re so fabulous!”

  Annie looked around, “You, me, Rob, Jake. We’ll bake them tonight—the special red wine variety.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “What time?”

  “Eight, at the shop. You bring the wine.”

  “You’re on!”

  After the camera crew left, Cam checked on Jane Duffy. The interviews were going relatively smoothly, but Jane reiterated the down mood she’d observed.

  “I know it’s normal after what happened, but I would hate this to be the face that goes out to the public.”

  “I totally agree, and we’re having another dinner party. We just can’t… call it a party. It would be really inappropriate.”

  “Oh, yes—I agree with that, but these people need a little fun!”

  Cam wasn’t sure “fun” was appropriate, either, but she agreed with the assessment that without an intervention, the Garden Society was a darned gloomy set of people, incapable of putting on a public front that would sell, whether it was seeking membership or donation money.

  Instead of finding her photographer, who at the very least had full information to keep going, Cam spent the afternoon with Evangeline, planning a menu.

  Evangeline rattled off the list of what they’d served and what they hadn’t in the last few days. Cam tried to steer toward items Spoons served.

  “I’m sorry, Cam. I love Spoons’ food, but we’ve sort of exhausted them, haven’t we? And think how rude it would be to add on so much extra work last minute. I was thinking… well, in order to be good Southern hosts, we should have a good old-fashioned Southern barbeque—barbequed pork with North Carolina barbeque sauce, beans, corn muffins, corn on the cob—a real feast, Southern-style. I know the weather isn’t cooperating, but we could have it catered.”

  Cam sat down to make calls.

  Two hours later she slammed the phone down, exasperated.

  “Nobody!”

  And nobody was right. Not a single person heard her cry of frustration that nobody was available to cater a big Southern barbeque the next night. Evangeline had gone on to domestic or recreational matters out of earshot, and Cam suspected the servants were avoiding her. Nobody took on extra drama voluntarily, and Cam was sure that was what this looked like in their eyes. This photo shoot had brought nothing but extra drama.