by Tonya Kappes
Doolittle had two jobs in Cottonwood, which wasn’t uncommon in a small town like ours. She was the town-council president as well as the county clerk.
“What does the winner get out of it?” There had to be some sort of value in order for her three candidates to enter. I mean, Viola was already über wealthy and had her own store. Same with Myrna. “Why would any three of your candidates want to do this?”
“I don’t know. Money. Legacy.” She’d said something that caught my attention.
“They all have money,” I said, but then remembered that I’d heard Owen was in need of some money for his medication.
“Right, but when do you have enough? See, each person will sell me their recipe and they will get their name on the menu, along with licensing fees each month of the total sale of their food item.” She definitely had an interesting and enticing prize.
Of course, I’d heard all this from Myrna, but I’d much rather hear it with my own ears from the source.
“So they only had to invest in this for two weeks and that’s it. They get paid each month.” It was very cut and dry.
“Yep.” She folded her arms in front of her. “Now that Owen is,” she stuck her tongue out and rolled her eyes up in her head, “it doesn’t look like I’m even going to get to look at that recipe. But the upside is that I don’t have to listen to Owen and Myrna fuss and fight about her firing him.” She curled her lips in. “Still,” she shook her head, the edges of her lips dipped down, “I still can’t believe he’s dead. He really didn’t bother nobody.”
“No, he didn’t,” I said, but I wanted to get back the firing thing. “She fired him?” There was a tidbit of information Myrna had left out last night.
“Yep. A few days ago.” She cocked her head to the side. “Didn’t you know?”
“No.” This didn’t look good for Myrna. “Who told you?” I couldn’t help but think it was a little suspicious on Myrna’s part that she left that out. Though she did stumble for words when I’d questioned her last night.
“Myrna and Owen. Both.” She shrugged. “They both talked bad about each other when we first started the contest. Ben and I got all the contestants together and explained the competition and rules.”
“You hungry?” Finn walked up holding two cardboard cartons. “Our coffee is up there. I thought you could grab those while I grab a seat.”
“We don’t have time to eat here.” I turned back to Jolee. “Can you watch Duke for me? During your deliveries for Meals on Wheels, you can drop him off at the office.”
“Aye, aye.” She saluted and trotted off back toward the truck, where I was sure Viola had just fired her own self.
“I’m done with these people,” Viola belted out the window with her fist in the air, her bracelets jingling all the way up her arm. She untied her apron, balled it up, and threw it on the ground. “To hell with you all.”
She and Jolee had a few words before Viola stormed off. I guessed Myrna was Jolee’s winner by default now.
“What was that about?” I asked Finn after grabbing the coffees, heading toward the Wagoneer.
“Viola was giving everyone some sort of hash brown breakfast.” He held up the food. “Even us.” He laughed. “No matter what you ordered, when she was working alone, you got the same thing. This. I’m not complaining because I’m hungry. Everyone else fussed and made her mad.”
“We can’t worry about this. We’ve got bigger fish to fry, like Myrna Savage and her big fat secret,” I muttered.
“What’s that?” Finn stopped shy of the Jeep and looked at me.
“According to Jolee, Myrna fired Owen, and if you recall, she told us last night that he wouldn’t be there because it was late, not because he didn’t work for her anymore.” The words stung my throat as they came out.
Myrna Savage was about to get a house call.
Chapter Seven
Finn walked around to the back of Myrna’s house while I knocked on the front. The Petal Pusher’s delivery van was parked where it had been last night, but Myrna wasn’t answering the door.
“She’s in the greenhouse.” Finn poked his head around the side of the house.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” My jaw dropped. Did no one have respect for the law? I let out a deep sigh and walked around to the back of the house.
There she was, in the greenhouse with the door wide open, music spilling out. The police tape had been ripped in half.
“She doesn’t seem to listen very well.” Finn shook his head. “I’m glad I got what I needed last night.”
The wet morning dew was sprinkled all over the lush green lawn like little teardrops and the smell of freshly stem-cut flowers flowed out of the greenhouse along with a happy humming tune.
“Myrna,” I scolded. “What are you doing in here?”
She turned, a pair of pliers in her grip. “Kendrick Lowry, you almost gave me a heart attack.” She pulled the pliers to her chest. “Then who would do my funeral flowers?”
“I’m not joking.” I stood with my legs apart and my hands rested on my sheriff’s belt to show her how serious I was. “This is a crime scene. And you could go to jail for tampering with evidence.”
“According to Betty Murphy, that fine young man already had the evidence put in baggies and sent off to the lab.” She turned back to the floral arrangement she was working on and snipped a few stems before placing it in the milk-glass vase. “Not to mention I had floods of orders coming in for poor old Owen’s layout.”
“You mean to tell me that people have already called this early?” I checked the time on my cell.
“Honey, death waits for no one, and neither do these flowers.” She pulled some baby’s breath from the freezer. The door slammed shut and fog crept up along the glass. I shivered. “Everyone knows that I only keep a certain amount of each flower and if they call too late, then they are shit out of luck. That’s the way it is. Not to mention competing on who is going to order the biggest.”
“The biggest?” Finn questioned.
“Oh honey, like the repast where people cook their best recipe, the bigger the arrangement, the higher on the social ladder you are. Right now, Ruby Smith is winning.” She winked and tapped an order form in front of her with the tip of the pliers.
It wasn’t unusual that Ruby had bought the biggest arrangement to be sent. It made perfect sense since Poppa had told me Rae Lynn and Ruby were best friends. I was still planning on paying her a visit.
The greenhouse phone rang and Myrna quickly picked it up. “Petal Pushers, Myrna Savage, floral extraordinaire, at your service.”
“Extraordinaire?” Finn whispered, an eyebrow raised.
Myrna gave us the shoulder and hunched over the receiver of the phone. She gave the person on the other end of the line a few uh-huhs, mmms, and yeps before she turned back around. She gave us the sweet smile as she hung the phone up.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you fired Owen Godbey?” I asked, hoping the surprise question would catch her off guard.
Myrna’s body stiffened. Slowly she laid the pliers down on the counter and sucked in a deep breath.
“It wasn’t that I thought you weren’t going to find out.” Her southern accent deepened. “I wanted to call Wally Lamb before you hauled me off to jail on some suspicion. I watch all them cop shows and I see how this all works, Kenni.”
She referred to Wally Lamb, the local lawyer.
“Sheriff,” I corrected her. If there was one thing that bugged me being the sheriff in my own town was the fact they didn’t call me by my title. It might have seemed petty. But during official business, I felt it was a lack of respect.
“Sheriff then.” Her eyes drew down me and back up. “Whatever.” She stuck her hands out in front of her, wrists bent, fingers dangling down. “Arrest me for something I didn’t do.”
“Th
en answer the question.” What part did she not understand? “If you have nothing to hide, then why didn’t you tell me? For all I know, you had a good reason.”
“You mean the fact that he tried to steal my garden-growing recipe right out from under my nose?” Myrna reached for a felted cigar box on the sill of the window. She opened it and took out a stack of index cards. She thumbed through them and pulled one out, pushing it toward me. “This here is my aunt’s recipe box she made. It was the only thing she left me in her will. It seemed silly to everyone in our family, but it’s priceless to me. My aunt was a master garden grower. She had the most beautiful garden and landscaped yard you’d have ever laid your eyes upon. She could make a weed look like a fresh summer rose. She told me, ‘Myrna, you’ve got the gift like me.’ So when she died, I got this box and all its contents. My family laughed because they got all her worldly belongings and now they are poor as field mice. Not me.” She pulled the index card to her chest and hugged it. “She gave me the gift of everlasting life. Her secret growing recipe.” Her voice deepened. “Owen Godbey was out here trying to steal it. I fired him on the spot.” She took the cards and put them back in the box, slamming down the lid. “I didn’t kill Owen Godbey. Even though I wanted to.”
“Why would he want your recipe?” Finn asked.
“He wanted my secret grow recipe to use on his okra garden. He said the soil on his property was no good and Stanley wouldn’t let him use their property to continue to grow the okra garden Rae Lynn had already started.” She picked the pliers up. She snipped so hard and fast at the flowers, Finn and I had to watch for flying pieces. “The only thing I could reckon was that he wanted to win the cook-off so bad that he would go to any lengths to steal. After all, I did hear that he was in financial need for his medicine. Now, that’s just hearsay.”
“You caught him trying to steal your recipe?” I wanted to clarify.
“No, but why else was he here?” she assumed.
I couldn’t take hearsay for truth, but it was definitely something I could check into.
“Do you know what medicine he was taking?” I questioned.
“Oh, I don’t know. It wasn’t like I was married to the man.” She pish-poshed me. “He was gimping around here anyways. Complaining about ailments and aches. So he wasn’t going to last delivering for me much longer because I have a lot of hospital deliveries, and with the floral show coming up, he wasn’t about to help out with that.” She glanced over at Finn. A smile crept up on her face. “I need a strapping young man for that.”
“What hurt him?” I asked, bringing her lusty eyes back in focus.
“I don’t know. He complained about his back, his knees, his legs, even his hair follicles. He complained like an old lady.” She tsked and pulled some yellow roses out of the refrigerator. “Now, can you please rip down all this crime-scene tape so I can get back to work? Or cuff me?”
“No one is cuffing anyone.” Wally Lamb stood at the door of the greenhouse. He was as shady as they came—his nickname in high school was Low-down Lamb. He did sneaky things to win school elections. “You are looking mighty fine, Kenni.” Wally slid past me, his head turning all angles so he could get a good look at me. “Love a woman in a uniform.” He grinned. “You ever decide on my offer?”
“Sheriff Lowry.” Finn stepped up as my nose curled up in disgust.
“Oh, you have a talking puppet now, Kenni?” Wally asked, his eyes focused on me. He winked. “I always said I’d be your deputy.”
Wally wore a black three-piece suit and shiny black shoes. I heard he kept the Cottonwood Laundromat in business with all of his fancy clothes. It was rumored that he even worked out in suits. His blond hair was always combed straight back with product in it. Tina, from Tiny Tina’s salon, said that he bought cases of that stuff a month. I’d believe it. I’d also heard that he spent a lot of time at the Lancôme counter at the mall. Now that was just a rumor.
“Listen, buddy.” Finn’s chest poked out.
“It’s okay.” I put my hand out on Finn’s chest and inwardly giggled at the muscles tickling my palm. “This is Wally Lamb. He’s a local attorney who I grew up with.”
“She’s a feisty one.” Wally winked again. A toothpick jogged up and down from the corner of his mouth. “I was just at Cowboy’s Catfish to see you, but Betty said you weren’t in yet. I took my chances and here you are.” He turned his attention to Myrna. “These fine law-abiding Cottonwood officers aren’t keeping you from your job, are they, Miss Myrna?”
“Don’t be sassy, Wally,” Myrna warned. “I can hold my own. And I already told them that I fired Owen Godbey because I caught him trying to steal from me.”
“Does that appease you?” Wally asked, plucking one of the roses from the bundle. He brought it up to his nose and took a nice long whiff. I was having a hard time hiding my distaste for his smarmy ways.
“What would appease me, Wally, is for you to get your client out and have her stay out of a crime scene like I told her to last night.” I adjusted my stance, straight back, hands clasped in front of me, and stared directly at Wally. “I sure wouldn’t want to have to call the Attorney General and let him know that a certain lawyer isn’t following the law, because you and I both know that your client isn’t.”
“But my—” Myrna started to protest before Wally bent down and whispered something in her ear.
Her chin and eyes lifted.
“She’s going to take her orders with her and find a florist to help her until this is cleared up.” Wally gestured around the greenhouse.
“Fine.” I lifted my hands.
“Do you mind if I take a look around your house?” Finn asked Myrna when she and Wally walked past him.
“I don’t see why not.” Myrna crossed her arms. When Wally started to say something, she put her hand up to stop him. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Myrna, we will be in touch. Finn, you go look around while I put up the police tape again.” I picked the tape up off the floor that Myrna had easily ignored and stepped all over.
“My offer still stands, Kenni.” Wally stopped at the greenhouse door and held the rose out for me to take. The smile on his face made me nauseous. “Me and you would make one helluva team.” His words strung together. “Put that rose on my tab,” he said to Myrna. She snickered as I reluctantly took the flower.
“Myrna, we will be in touch.” I said. “Wally, be sure your client stays in Cottonwood.”
The greenhouse door slammed behind them.
“Who on Earth does he think he is?” Finn snarled and jerked the tape taut.
“It’s Wally.” My voice was flat along with my eyes. The inside looked secure, so I gestured Finn to follow me outside. “Wally Lamb is a wannabe big-city lawyer. He isn’t even the county attorney; he got beat in a landslide last election. I have to pick what battles I want to fight and the ones I don’t. Wally is not a threat.”
Though I’d heard another rumor that he was going to run again next election, which was when my term was up. The very people who elected you could turn on you in a minute. I’d seen it.
“We can’t be bothered with Wally.” I kind of liked how Finn took up for me. If Lonnie was still my deputy, he wouldn’t have even been able to hear what was said. “Besides, he’s harmless. Just a good ole boy.”
“Well, I don’t like him.” Finn looked back in the greenhouse. He jerked the yellow rose Wally had given me out of my hand and threw it on the ground on our way back to the house. Not only did he step on it, he twisted his foot, smashing the petals in the dewy grass.
Chapter Eight
“You can’t let Wally Lamb get under your skin,” Betty Murphy quipped from her desk in the office after Finn continued to fuss about good southern gentleman and how disrespectful Wally was to the sheriff, never mind a woman. “I’m glad you didn’t find no evidence in Myrna’s house. I do like her.”
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Wally Lamb had decided to follow Finn around the house and let me be. Finn had taken one part of the house and I looked around the other. There was nothing but flower magazines, flower equipment, and moth balls around Myrna’s house. There wasn’t a sign of any barbwire. Everything I had on Myrna was circumstantial and had to do with her firing Owen because she caught him red-handed trying to steal from her.
“Wally was disrespectful to Kenni,” Finn told her.
“Don’t you worry about Kenni.” Betty laughed. “She can defend herself, right?”
“Yep,” I said.
“I know you can, but he needed to be put in his place. Unless…” His voice trailed off.
“Unless what?” My eyes narrowed in anticipation.
“Unless you do want to go out with him.” Finn shrugged.
“Please.” I rolled my eyes. Betty squealed with laughter, causing Finn to laugh.
“Well, he did get under my skin.” Finn shook his head. Duke walked over to Finn’s desk, where he kept treats for my loyal companion. Finn held a treat out and Duke sat so still. “Shhhh.” He put the treat on the edge of the desk and Duke didn’t move, his eyes on the prize. “I’ve been training him to stay with the temptation right there. It’s something the dogs in the reserve learned to do and I always thought it was so cool.” He looked over at Betty. “Maybe I can teach him to attack Wally Lamb.”
Betty giggled like a schoolgirl at Finn’s joke that I didn’t find funny. I did find it odd that Duke wasn’t moving the least tiniest bit. Betty and I watched Finn finally give poor Duke the okay to eat the treat.
