by India Ink
Winthrop just smiled. “Oh, we’ll think of something, my dear, and we’ll find your journal. I have no doubt of it. It’s just going to take some planning and diplomatic maneuvering. Now, how about a glass of iced tea?”
As I retired to the kitchen, I couldn’t help but be thankful that Winthrop was on our side. He was a shark, and I was infinitely grateful that I wasn’t on the menu.
Chapter Nine
W hile I arranged cookies on a plate and poured our drinks, I could hear Winthrop and Auntie discussing the paperwork that would legalize my partnership in the business, but my mind was running in a different direction.
Our roses were tainted…. Sharon screwed over Killian…. Bebe was a well-known scam artist…. My journal had been stolen, and my work ripped off…. And now, Sharon, was lying in a hospital bed, comatose from a gunshot.
How did the pieces all fit together? I was fairly certain that Bebe was the culprit behind our roses and my journal; that was a no-brainer, even though we couldn’t prove it. But somebody had shot Sharon, and that was an entirely different ball of wax.
Who hated her enough to kill her? I knew that’s how Kyle was looking at it, just as I knew he had to put me on his list, considering the accusations I’d made against the woman. But the truth was, as angry as I was at Sharon, I’d never make an attempt on her life over the theft of my work. It just wasn’t in my nature. Revenge? Yes, but not of the bodily harm type. But somebody had shot her. She didn’t hold that gun herself.
What about Killian? As much as I didn’t want to think of him as a suspect, the fact remained that he had accused Sharon of being a thief, and his hatred for the woman was obvious. Could his feelings have led him to hurt her? Or was he in the same camp I was—guilty of anger but not of action?
Of course, there was also the chance that Sharon played a part in riling up the Animal Freedom Association. Could one of their fanatics have taken symbolic attack into actual violence? And there were a gaggle of competive Belles, no doubt some of whom might have had it in for her. A bevy of thoughts buzzing in my head, I loaded up a tray and headed back to the table.
Winthrop and Auntie looked up as I returned to the dining room. A packet of papers sat on my placemat and, after setting down the tray, I glanced over them. The partnership forms. They looked impressively legalistic, and I dreaded reading through every line.
“Give me a pen—” I started to say, but Auntie shook her head.
“You know better than that. Even with relatives, you read everything in there. Would you like a second legal opinion? I don’t mind, and Winthrop will understand.”
I stared at her. “It’s not like I’m buying into the shop—this is a gift, one I very gratefully accept. Whatever terms you want, I’m fine with, as long as my creations are free to go with me if I ever have to leave.”
Auntie glanced at Winthrop. “What do you think?”
He harrumphed. “As long as she signs a paper saying she’s voluntarily waived a second opinion, then yes, it’s fine.” He turned to me. “Though, young woman, I highly recommend you avoid ever using this tactic with anyone except your aunt. Not everybody is as honest as Florence here.”
I perked up. Nobody else in Gull Harbor ever called Auntie by her name without Miss attached. Nobody but Winthrop. Wondering if they had some sort of a past together, but not about to ask, I read quickly over the contract, saw that everything looked to be in order, then signed the waiver and initialed over a dozen pieces of paper that went into the formation of the partnership. By the time I was done, I had an eerie feeling that I’d just indentured myself for life.
Auntie shook my hand with look of mock solemnity on her face, then burst into a sunbeam grin and pulled me close for a hug. “We’re partners, Imp. And I think we make a good team.”
“Tell that to Sharon Wellstone,” I said, thinking about the offer she’d tendered. “Apparently Bebe is under the assumption that I’d be better off working for them than you. I don’t know just what rumors are going around, but I told Sharon to forget it.”
Auntie stared at me, a glint in her eye. “You know, I pushed that incident to the side, but it does bring to mind a possible plan to find your missing journal.”
Winthrop gazed at Auntie, and I could see the emotions churning on his face. “Florence Iris Vanderbilt, you’re cooking up a scheme, aren’t you?”
She winked at him. “Oh, Winthrop, you know me too well.”
“Well, somebody let me in on the plan!” I snatched a cookie up and began to nibble on it, suddenly feeling very much the third wheel. I prided myself on being an intelligent woman, but now and then, Auntie got the better of me, and I’d be shocked back into remembering just how cagey and clever she was. Auntie was no slouch in the brains department, that was for sure.
She turned to me, a mischievous smile playing about her lips. “Persia, I think that it’s time you left the employ of Venus Envy.”
Stunned, I waved the partnership papers. “But you just made me a partner,” I started to say, then saw the laughter on both of their faces. As I thought over our conversation, it hit me just what Auntie was thinking. “Oh, no, you can’t ask me to go over to Bebe and beg her for a job! Besides, Sharon probably told them I wasn’t interested.”
Auntie shook her head. “Ten to one, it hasn’t gotten back to Bebe yet. And even if it has, you could easily change your mind for one reason or another.”
“But that’s insane. I don’t want to work for Bebe,” I sputtered, looking for a way out. Now her idea was all too clear—I go over to Bebe’s factory, ask for a job, infiltrate my way in, find proof that they stole my journal, and we nab them. “Besides, Kyle probably wouldn’t approve.”
“Since when have you ever chosen to listen to Kyle?” Auntie snorted. “I seem to remember a few months ago when you deliberately walked into danger to prove something Kyle couldn’t act on.”
I grimaced. She had me there, that was for certain. More often than not, I dismissed what he had to say. He was a good cop, smart, honest, but he went by the book, and sometimes life demanded that you step outside the box.
“What do you suggest I do? Sashay over there and say I’ve changed my mind? Won’t they be a little suspicious?”
Winthrop leaned forward, folding his hands together. “If I might offer a suggestion?” Auntie nodded, and he continued, “Suppose you and Persia have a falling out? What happens if you have a huge fight? That would provide motivation for her to go bang on Bebe’s door, asking about the job Sharon had mentioned. Hell, Florence, fire the girl and throw her out of this house to make it convincing. Persia can take a cheap apartment for a week or two to make it look like she’s out on her ass.”
I sat there, my mind whirling. Fire me? Throw me out of the house? Even though I knew we were talking temporary measures, my pulse started to race, and I realized just how much I loved living here at Moss Rose Cottage and working with Aunt Florence. If we’d been talking for real, I’d be totally trashed by now. As it was, even the thought of people thinking Auntie had disowned me hurt like hell. She was, after all, the only real mother I’d ever had.
Auntie latched onto his plan. “That’s very good—and that would forestall any questions of loyalty to me. If they think she’s mad at me, then they’ll snap her up and try to nail the lid on Venus Envy’s coffin.”
It was about that time that she noticed my distress. With a quick arm around my shoulder, she pulled me close to her. “Oh, Imp, please don’t look like that! You know I adore you, that I love you to pieces, but this is the only way we’ll ever find your journal. It’s also a chance for you to snoop around and see if you can find any evidence that they’re the ones behind tainting our roses and crashing our computer.”
I knew she was right, but I didn’t want to face it. Inhaling deeply, I leaned on her shoulder. “I just can’t stand people thinking you hate me, Auntie. I love you too much. I’ll be the pariah of the town.”
“Only as long as it takes to find your journal
,” Winthrop said. “And afterward, we can let people know it was all a plan to stop the demise of Venus Envy. Because, Persia, if things go on as they have, there won’t be a store for you to take over when Florence wants to retire. Bebe Wilcox will win if you don’t do something to stop her. I’ve looked at this from all angles, and Bebe has a definite advantage. She’s not afraid to play dirty.”
He had a point. Auntie and Winthrop were pretty darn sharp. I sighed. Sometimes sacrifice was necessary to achieve the desired end. I only wished the sacrifice in question wouldn’t leave me stranded out of house and home, turning me into persona non grata. Even if it was only for a week or two, my ego was going to take a bruising.
“All right,” I said, “I’m in, but I don’t know how long I can keep it up.”
“Then you’d better work fast,” Winthrop said. “What can we stage between you two that will look believable?”
Whatever we came up with had to be probable enough to convince Bebe that we were on the outs. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded; everybody knew we were tight. As we were discussing possibilities, the phone rang, and Auntie excused herself to answer it.
When she came back, her face was ashen. “That was Trevor with the estimate on how much it will take to replace the roses. We’re talking over fifteen thousand dollars to renovate the gardens, including digging out all that soil and replacing it with new fill. Even if the tests come back clean, I don’t want to take any chances. And it will take a good two years before we’re able to harvest anything off of new plants. Some of the heritage roses we were using are terribly pricy, and he’s not sure we can even find replacements for some of them.” She sat down, burying her face in her hands.
I grimaced. Auntie was wealthy, yes, but fifteen thousand dollars was fifteen thousand dollars, any which way you looked at it. “We shouldn’t have to put out one cent! This never should have happened in the first place. And it’s not like it’s our fault.”
“At least you can write off the losses at the end of the year,” Winthrop said, but even as he spoke, I jumped up, snapping my fingers.
“I’ve got it! I know just what we can do that might convince people Auntie and I are on the outs.” I laid out my ideas. Both Auntie and Winthrop began to nod, and I could tell that they approved.
“The only question that remains is, how do we stage this?” Even as I spoke, my enthusiasm began to wane. My leave-taking would be all too public knowledge once the town gossip, Heddy Latherton, got wind of the news, and I’d be scum in a lot of people’s eyes. But for the good of the shop and my own peace of mind, I knew I had to go through with it. As it was, luck—or rather, bad luck—was about to play right into our hands.
The next morning brought more unwelcome news. Trevor rang the bell at seven thirty. Still in my workout gear, I led him into the kitchen, where Auntie was finishing up making our breakfast. She’d scrambled eggs and fried up some ham, and motioned for me to add another plate to the table.
Trevor shook his head. “I already ate, but thanks.” He held up several sheets of paper. “I stopped by to get the test results from Dave. I thought you’d want to know the results as soon as possible.”
“Hold on. I have a feeling I’m going to want to sit down for this, by the look on your face.” Auntie dished up our plates, and we carried them into the dining room, but neither one of us took a bite as we settled around the table.
“How bad is it?” she asked. I held my breath as he handed her the reports.
“Not good. Not only were the rose petals tainted, but the soil around the roses has high concentrations of insecticide in it. We have to confine the damage before it leaches through the soil any farther than it already has.” His face clouded over; I had the sense that he’d taken the vandalism as a personal insult.
“We won’t be using the word organic for awhile,” Auntie said, flipping through the report. “What about the rest of the gardens? Give it to me in a nutshell.”
“They checked out as clean. Either the SOB was scared off or didn’t think to bring enough of the pesticide to go around. But one thing’s for sure, we’re going to have to go ahead with the plans to dig out and replace all the soil in the rose gardens. Even then, it’s going to take several years to make sure that everything’s clean again.” He sighed. “Like I told you on the phone last night, this is going to cost you a pretty penny.”
Auntie and I looked at one another.
“This cinches it,” I said. “Like it or not, we have to do something.”
With a nod, she turned to Trevor. “Who have you told about the contamination?”
When he said, “Nobody but Dave, Sarah, you, and Kyle,” I knew we were home free.
The next morning, I packed a bag before I left and tossed it in the trunk. On my way to the shop, I debated whether to tell Barbara about our plans before we put them into effect. On one hand, her surprise could be useful in spreading the word. On the other hand, she was my best friend, and I didn’t want her feeling pulled between me and my aunt. Not to mention, she could seriously interfere with our plans, albeit unwittingly. She’d do anything in her power to avert rumors that we were on the outs, and right now, rumors were what we were aiming for.
After a moment, I pulled over to the side of the road and fished my cell phone out of my purse. I hit number three on speed dial and waited. Luck was with me. Barbara was the one who answered.
“Listen, I need to talk to you about something now, but it’s private. Can you make sure you’re not being overheard?” I paused while she secreted herself away from the front of the bakery, then spilled the beans. “You have to keep quiet about this, though. You can’t even tell Dorian. The only thing you can say is that you know Auntie and I’ve had a falling out, once we stage our argument.”
Barbara was speechless for a good ten seconds, an eternity for her. Then she sputtered to life. “I can’t believe you guys are going through with this! Oh my God, this is going to be priceless.”
“Priceless my ass. My head’s going to be on the chopping block as far as a lot of people are concerned. But Venus Envy means too much to us to just walk away and watch everything sink. Since Kyle can’t do anything, then we’ll take matters into our own hands. If I have to play bad cop for awhile, then I’ll be the bad cop.
Barb agreed to be one of our coconspirators, and I hung up. So far, so good. Now, for the actual confrontation.
Auntie had gone in early. We’d debated telling Tawny, but as much as we liked the girl, we couldn’t be sure of her ability to keep a secret. Since she was still at the convention, we had some leeway. Trevor knew, of course, and I’d called Bran. Both agreed to do what they could to further our plan.
As I walked in the front door, I noticed that Heddy was in the shop. Usually I ran the other way when I saw her, but today, the woman had perfect timing. She was standing by the counter, chatting with Auntie. The gossip maven of the town, Heddy was a pain in the neck, and Auntie despised her quick and easy tongue. She gave me a long look, and I knew Operation Infiltrate Bebe’s was about to begin.
“Heddy was just telling me about Sharon’s condition,” Auntie said. Why was I not surprised? I had the feeling that Sharon’s assault had been the center of Heddy’s conversation since the news first hit the streets. Before Heddy could say a word, however, Auntie changed the subject. “So, what are you doing this afternoon, Heddy?”
“I’m due over at the Sherwood Forest Shopping Center by one PM,” Heddy said. “We’re wrapping gifts as part of a charity project that the Women’s Association is sponsoring. Tell everybody to do their shopping over at Sherwood today!”
“How wonderful,” Auntie murmured as I nodded and hurried past, into the back, where I quickly buzzed Trevor. He was waiting at the bakery for his cue.
“Get over here now. Heddy’s here, and it’s the perfect time to get this show on the road.”
Trevor signed off, and I returned to my station where I started setting out my oils, after giving Auntie a quick nod. A
s I dusted off the counter, Trevor burst through the doors, panting heavily.
“Miss Florence, I have to talk to you. We have trouble—”
Florence glanced at Heddy, then quickly shushed him. “Persia, please watch the front? Trevor, come into my office. If you’ll excuse me, Heddy?”
She bustled Trevor off to the back. As I’d expected, Heddy sidled over, hoping to catch a few tidbits of gossip. I nervously glanced at the back of the store. At least I didn’t have much of an acting job; once this news broke, I was as good as gone.
“I wonder what could have happened?” Heddy said, eyeing me like I had the key to the cookie jar.
I let out a long breath, then shrugged. “I’m not sure,” I said, forcing doubt into my voice. Might as well let her think I was worried.
“Trevor seems in a bit of a fuss.”
“Things haven’t been easy lately,” I said, sighing. “Everybody in town seems stressed. Even Auntie and I’ve had our share of squabbles. It must be the heat.”
Heddy gave me a sage nod. “The weather can make a mess of things, all right. I was telling my niece just yesterday that we need a good rain.”
Half listening, I arranged my oils, wishing that I’d been smarter and kept better tabs on my journal. If Bebe and her cronies hadn’t swiped it, Auntie and I wouldn’t have to participate in this charade.
Just then, Trevor came striding out. He stopped in the middle of the store and stared at me. “Miss Florence knows what you did. I can’t believe you’d stab us in the back like that!” he said. Then, before I could answer, he stomped out the door, slamming it behind him.
“Wha—?” I glanced over at Heddy. “What’s he talking about?”
She was about to say something when Auntie appeared, a storm cloud covering her face. “Persia, I need to see you. Now.”
I cleared my throat. “Can it wait—”
