“Yeah, no worries darlin’ he drawled,” Carter had come here from someplace down south when he was a kid, and in addition to having the body of a romance god, he still has a hint of a smooth southern accent that I could just about listen to all day long.
“If you’re sure, I do have to get to my list,” I said, indicating the yellow legal pad.
“Sometimes I think that list is what keeps you from gettin’ things done. Just put it down and go do something,” he grinned at me as I swatted him away.
“You have plenty to do too. I can tell without even looking at your list.”
This was a common topic of discussion between the two of us. My yellow legal pad is always nearby, I always used it when writing, outlining my chapters in longhand. When I moved here, the box of yellow legal pads followed, and as it turns out they are excellent for the lists I make myself for getting the place knocked into shape.
Carter reached into the pocket of his flannel button down shirt and pulled out the torn back of an envelope. As ubiquitous as my legal pad, he seemed to have an endless supply of raggedly ripped up envelopes to draw from. A small stubby pencil materialized from behind his ear, and he made a show of licking the tip of the pencil and adding ‘repair shelving’ to his list.
“I’ll take care of this, you’re still going to handle cleaning the stove-top and vent hood, right?”
We’ve been tossing this chore around like the proverbial hot potato since we started working on the place and I was now ‘it’.
“Yes,” I sighed, “but it’s so gross!”
“Well you could leave it, but…”
“No, of course not. We’re not going to use it, but it does have to be clean. In fact that reminds me,” I said, snapping my fingers, “did you disable it? I don’t want any little kids turning it on by accident.”
Carter held out his raggedy envelope for me to inspect, and there neatly numbered 3 and dutifully crossed off, was ‘cap off wires from stove top’.
“Great, thanks! I’ll just get out of your way,” I said smiling.
“Didn’t I suggest that already? Go, go on! Find someone else to torture.”
Carter and I have known each other since he and his family moved to town. When I moved back from the city he was still here, taller and better looking than I remembered. And now all grown up he is handy as well. And fun to look at. All in all a winning situation I thought as I tried to recall what I meant to do next. Maybe another cup of coffee? I thought as I wandered back to the vestibule only to hear yelling. What now?
A deep masculine voice was shouting down the hallways, and my heart sank as I realized it was Father Amos. Here to find Daisy, apparently.
I rounded the corner and there he was. The man has steely blue eyes that bore through anyone who dares try to meet them, and a shock of white hair that he wears long, to invoke the sense of the prophet, no doubt.
“Where’s Daisy? Daisy? It’s time you were home, we need you back at the compound. Daisy, where are you?”
His voice boomed and echoed bouncing off the corners and flying down the hallways. Gigi and Jennifer stopped and stared at him, seemingly rooted to their spots.
“Father Amos, it’s so nice to see you again,” I lied. “Daisy was here but I believe she left, may I help you with something?”
“She must be here, she only had permission to go here and then return home. She can’t possibly be anywhere else.”
“Did you check the road to your compound? Maybe she’s on her way home now?”
“Of course I did, how do you think I got here?” he scowled at me. I was a little unnerved. He’s a menacing guy, no doubt about it.
“Well, I’m sure she was intending to be wherever she was supposed to be. Can you call her?” I asked remembering the phone used for the picture.
“No, we don’t allow the use of pagan technology among the flowers. I’m the only one with a phone, and it’s for emergencies.”
Confused I decided I didn’t want to get Daisy in trouble so I just moved on. “Well, Father Amos, she isn’t here, I’m sure she left. She said she didn’t want to be late,” I offered helpfully.
“I’m going to look around,” he announced gruffly as he began stomping toward the stairs.
“We’re not open yet, and I’d rather you didn’t look around, there are people working and…”
“And it’s her place, and the lady said no,” came a voice from behind me, Carter to the rescue. Again. “She said Daisy wasn’t here, and I’d take her at her word if I were you. Time you moved along.”
Father Amos turned his stormy stare at Carter but then seemed to think better of pushing his luck.
“If you see her please send her home,” he said curtly, and turned to leave.
I walked to the door and watched him walk down the driveway, ramrod straight. How are they not terrified every second, I wondered. Carter came up behind me, “well he’s certainly warm and cozy, isn’t he?”
“Haven’t you met Father Amos before?”
“I’ve managed to avoid it, although I’m certainly aware of his abomination on the bay.”
“It really is a hideous looking compound, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, although I wouldn’t care so much, except it ruined the view for so many people.”
“That part is a shame. The place is so blocky and square and the wall around it stands in the way.”
“Right, I mean I don’t know the guy, but that is such a selfish move, stealing that view from the town. And blocking off the land, where people used to walk house to house with no bother. If that’s any indication of how he is in private, I don’t want to know him.”
I couldn’t fault Carter’s reasoning there. I didn’t want to know Amos either. He and the Little Flowers moved to town just over a year ago. There was a piece of land on the bay that some holding company bought and the next thing anyone knew they were breaking ground on it. It was all very hush hush until Father Amos showed up with his followers. The land was off the tax rolls too since it was a “religious” compound and church. And he was not friendly. The girls seemed nice enough, but quiet as mice, scurrying around in their white robes, head down, quietly running errands and keeping his home for him.
They don’t need to buy much, the Little Flowers grow as much as they can in the central gardens in the courtyard of the compound. The way I understand it there’s a sister compound somewhere in the Florida Keys, probably blocking the view of an entire neighborhood there too. That compound is where they grow spices and herbs, plants that are more delicate and require a warmer climate.
Or, so I’ve been told. The Little Flowers, Daisy especially, will chat sometimes. Only when no one is looking. I’ve had hurried conversations with them in parking lots, and news stands, anywhere they might sneak in a word or two without being caught. They seemed like friendly and sweet girls, and I wondered again what on earth they saw in Amos.
Back inside planned chaos ensued and I tried once again to sit for a minute, just one minute please! With my coffee and yellow legal pad I got settled and focused on my never ending list. It wasn’t long, ten minutes, twenty? When I heard a chilling scream. What now?
Chapter 3
I got up to see what the commotion was and Jennifer came barreling at me at full speed. We collided and I caught her just before she fell, and pulled her upright again. She was breathing hard and making no sense at all.
“What happened?”
“It’s him. He’s. I can’t say it. You have to go see,” she said pulling me out the door and toward the front of the house. My sister Gigi was there, and together we rushed down the driveway following after my niece.
At the bottom of the driveway, partially covered by some brush was Father Amos. Lifeless. His head turned at an awkward angle, and it seemed clear that he must be dead. His formerly powerful body lay limp and lifeless. He didn’t move in response to our arrival, I checked briefly for a pulse, but there was nothing.
Gigi pulled Jennifer close,
and Jen rested her head on her mother’s shoulder.
Within hours the property was full of police cars, the shrubbery cordoned off with bright yellow crime scene tape.
“Will they want to talk to us anymore?” Jennifer asked her mom.
“I don’t think so sweetie, not right now anyway,” I interrupted, trying to sound positive. “You’ve given your statement. Why don’t you guys go home for the day. I’ve got this.”
“But the opening…” Gigi said.
“I imagine that will be delayed, what with the end of the driveway being a big old crime scene and all,” I suppressed a shudder.
“I know, but all our plans…”
“We’ll make new plans, go home. Take a nap. Eat some chocolate. Drink some wine. We’ll start again tomorrow.”
I wasn’t being entirely generous I thought as I watched them leave hand in hand. I really wanted, needed, some time to myself to process the whole thing. It was a terrible thing to have a dead guy turn up at the end of the driveway. Especially one so noxious and rude as this one. Who would have had motive, the police wanted to know.
Jeeze, who wouldn’t?
I hadn’t said that but I thought it. He must have 20 young women in the compound all of whom are in the bloom of life, all just like Daisy. Women who have to mash down their feelings and live like nuns. I can’t imagine one or two of them didn’t wish him gone on occasion.
And then there was, well the whole rest of the town. The guy was a jerk, he wasn’t nice to anyone, and he acted like he owned the place. He bought up property that was valuable and scenic and locked it up so no one would be able to use it or appreciate the views and the beaches. So, other than the entire community, I couldn’t think of a single person who would want him dead.
Someone had done us all a favor, now we just had to figure out who.
I shook my head to clear it, not we, they. The police, I told myself sternly. As a writer and bookstore owner I had no place in a police investigation. As owner of the property where he died I have an interest, sure, but it isn’t up to me to figure out what happened.
I walked up to the house and kicked the crushed shells as I went. Scuffing my shoes along made a satisfying crunch. I stopped and looked up at the house in front of me. We had come so far, painting and planning, only to have this change all our plans.
I had to stop feeling sorry for myself. After all I wasn’t the one who was dead. Father Amos had had a far worse day than I.
Inside I watched the police activity from way up high in my little apartment as I cuddled with my little dog Norman. Tiny and sweet, some sort of chihuahua, Maltese, shih tzu mash-up, Norman was my constant companion and chief cheerer upper. When life gives me lemons, Norman is the one who makes me smile. As the evening cooled, and the sun set, the flashing and blinking lights from their vehicles lit up the night sky. Slowly they filtered away and eventually I saw one lone man walking up the drive. I knew he was a cop.
My heart hammered against my ribs, and I got butterflies in my stomach as he approached. Not because I was worried about what he might ask, but because of who he is.
Drake Jordan. Detective Drake Jordan. He has aged well, although since we had met and bonded over making paper snowflakes in the third grade, we’d both changed a fair amount. Tall, dressed casually in jeans and a loose cut blazer, his hair was a little longish and curled over his collar, a little out of fashion but it suits him. His cowboy boots added to the urban wrangler vibe.
I watched him walk around to the back where there was a gate and private entrance for my apartment. When the buzzer rang Norman barked his fool head off then tore off to the bedroom and burrowed under the covers on my bed. I pressed the switch and Drake’s face flickered to life on the small security TV in my foyer.
“Hey Drake, how can I help you?”
“Hey Ivy, can I come up?” he looked uncomfortably into the camera.
“Sure, hang on,” and I buzzed him in.
It was hard to hear his boots clomping on the stairs over the sound of my heart thudding in my ears. Honestly, you’d think I was 14. This is one reason I hadn’t wanted to come back to town. Him. Drake. (His mamma was a soap opera fan I think.) Anyway, we hadn’t really been a thing, but high school had served me several near misses with him and I had never quite gotten over his handsome self.
Of course when I moved here, I theorized it wouldn’t matter because when would I ever run into him, now that he was a cop? I’m not the sort of girl who ends up in trouble with the police with any regularity. At least I didn’t used to be.
I opened the door just as he raised his fist to knock. He looked startled as he dropped his hand to his side.
“Hi, come in.”
“Thanks, it’s been a long time. This is nice,” he said turning around to see the apartment and its views. “Did I hear a dog barking?”
“Yes, that was Norman, he’s hiding under the covers now.” I paused to look at the view with Drake, “It is pretty here,” I agreed as I looked out the windows, “I like it. The view is great. The apartment could use some work, but I’m happy here,” I turned to face him “ So, um…can I help you?”
“Well, it’s just this thing,” he indicated with a sweep of his hand the front yard of the estate. “It’s weird, this sort of thing doesn’t usually happen here in Hydrangea Bay.”
“Right, well I didn’t think so either, but there he is. Or was, I guess he’s gone now. Have the Little Flowers been notified?”
Drake look confused for a second, “Oh, right, his followers you mean? Yeah we sent a couple of officers over, they didn’t take it well. At all. Seems he ran the place pretty much singlehandedly along with Mother Ruth and she is away…or something? We need to look into her, she would inherit, I think?” he mused, mostly to himself. “If they were married. I’m not sure really what their relationship was. We gotta look into that” he said again. “Anyway. So they’re not sure about what to do next, or where the money is so they can bury him, how much there is, or what names to put on the death certificate, anything like that. It’s kind of a mess. They’re trying to find her I guess? I’m not sure if they even have phones.”
“I’m not sure either,” I thought as I remembered Daisy snapping a picture with hers, “I can’t even imagine,” I said shaking my head, “so, how can I help you? I talked to the officers, I didn’t really have a lot of interaction with him, uh Amos, today.”
“Yeah, I have your statement, and the list of people who were here today is a mile long,” he shook his head.
“Sorry, we’re under construction, we have a lot of people in and out. I’m not even sure all of the people on the list were here today but I thought I should add everyone who might have been.”
“Yeah, that’s the right thing to do. I guess I just wanted to touch base really. Let you know I’m working on this, ask if you’ll keep me in mind if you think of anything else that might be of interest,” he paused then turned to me, “what’s weird is there’s no sign of trauma.”
“No sign? You mean you don’t know how he died?”
“Right, no wounds, no blood, no gaping holes, wasn’t hit by a car, no broken bones… no nothing,” he shrugged.
I tried not to think about his reference to gaping holes, yuck! “What do you suppose happened then?”
“I don’t know. I mean it could be some sort of, I don’t know, allergy? Bee sting? Wasp? Spider? Or did he ingest something? We’ll get toxicology reports eventually, but the lab is backed up, it’s always backed up. So it could be a little while. In the meantime it’s something for me to puzzle over. I don’t actually know if it’s a murder, or an accident, or what?”
Drake turned to leave, “Glad to have a friendly face back in town anyway. See you around?”
“Yeah, see you around,” I said as I waved good-bye.
I shut the door behind him and turned to lean back against it. Norman came skittering around the corner now that the stranger was gone. I picked him up and snuggled my face in
his silky fur.
“What is Drake up to?” I whispered to Norman. Was that just a friendly visit, I thought as I heard his boots clomping down the stairs, or was it something more?
Chapter 4
I dreamed all night of puzzles of all sorts; locked room mysteries, colorful puzzles that were complete except for just one piece, twisted bits of iron that were almost impossible to disentangle and just as impossible to put back together again.
Puzzles. I had always enjoyed puzzles. Until now. Usually the only thing at stake is a picture, or being faster at solving it than my sister is. But now? Now things are different, there’s so much more at stake here.
I sighed, not my circus, not my monkeys. Well sort of maybe my circus since it was my front lawn Father Amos died on. But it isn’t up to me to figure it all out, I have a bookstore to open.
I showered and dressed, twisting my hair dry and running my fingers through it. It would end up wavy and unruly later but I didn’t feel like messing with it today.
I blew Norman a kiss good-bye after I slipped on jeans and a t-shirt. Then I padded down the inside set of stairs to get some coffee from the machine in the cafe area of the store and start working on my list again.
The front door opened as I stirred my coffee and Gigi came in on a gust of wind. She slammed the door behind her and leaned against it for a second. “Storm blowing in I think, holy smokes is it windy out there. Cops are here early I see.”
“Oh, are they? I didn’t look.”
“Yeah, I talked to Drake,” she wiggled her eyebrows when she said his name, “he aged well, don’t you think?”
I ignored her innuendo, “What did he have to say?”
Gigi fake pouted that I wasn’t rising to the bait, “He said you’re a hottie!”
“He didn’t!” I could feel myself blushing.
“No, he didn’t. He was boring, just talking about the ‘scene’ and how they wanted to finish up before the wind blew nearly everything away and the rain drowned what was left, and where on earth is Mother Ruth. I got you though, didn’t I?”
Murder & Spice and Everything Nice: Ivy Bloom Mysteries Page 2
