“I’m telling you, Deena, it was strange. One minute, he seemed almost sweet and vulnerable, as you might expect under the circumstances. The next, he was all cagey and guarded—and then he tried to flirt with me? I think?”
I still couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened with Vince. I wanted to discuss it with Deena, so we made a plan to meet up again after leaving Richard’s B&B. We’d come in separate cars, and she needed to run some errands, so I followed her downtown (a five-minute drive; everything in Aerieville is a five-minute drive) and parked next to her in the small municipal parking lot on the square.
Since it was Sunday, several places were closed, and the streets were half-empty. I was glad of that. At least we had a small measure of privacy, without being hounded by gossip-seekers. I tagged along as Deena made a stop at the drugstore and the walk-up ATM at the bank, and then picked up a dress at the dry cleaners. After all that, we bought double-scoop ice-cream cones at Tasty Cone: raspberry and mango sherbet for Deena, chocolate and mint-chocolate chip for me. We took our cones across the street, where we sat on a bench outside the darkened courthouse to finish our conversation.
Of everything I’d told Deena, she was most fixated on the last part.
“Maybe he likes older women,” she said, barely hiding her grin.
“Older? I’m not that much older.” I’d be turning twenty-nine in a couple of months—a fact I didn’t particularly care to dwell on. I’d always thought I’d be so much further along in my life at this point—career-wise, relationship-wise, everything-wise.
“Well, he was definitely hitting on you,” she said. “I think that little display of his six-pack abs was for your benefit too.”
“C’mon,” I said, waving away the idea. “We’re getting off track here. The important thing is he was visibly rattled by my questions.”
“So, now what?”
I sighed and licked my ice cream. “I don’t know. I’d still like to talk to the others. We should make the flower arrangements for Richard and bring them to him tomorrow. He said he serves tea in the afternoons, right? If we time it right, maybe we can join them.”
“That sounds good,” said Deena, “assuming we don’t have a lot of other orders to fill tomorrow.”
We enjoyed our ice cream in silence for a moment, as we watched the sparse comings and goings on the quiet street. A gaggle of leotard-clad middle-school girls headed down the block toward Valerie Light’s gymnastics and dance studio. A few minutes later, a couple of boys in baseball uniforms passed us going the other direction, toward the ball field. Cars driving by were few and far between. It was truly a lazy Sunday afternoon.
“Heads up,” said Deena suddenly. “It’s Nell Cusley, two o’clock.”
I looked around. “Two o’clock?”
Deena pointed across the street. “Maybe it’s one o’clock? Whatever, she’s over there parking.”
I checked my watch. I knew what Deena meant, but it still made me wonder about the time. It was actually almost four.
“Nell must have just closed her diner,” I said. She was generally open for breakfast and lunch only. “What’s she doing? Going to the drugstore?”
“I don’t know,” said Deena. “She’s looking toward the parking lot, and now she’s looking around.”
“Oh, shoot.” I hopped up and backed around the bench, out of her line of sight. “I bet she recognized my car.” My electric orange Fiat was unmistakable. I’d bought it in Nashville, and it was definitely one of a kind in Aerieville.
“Let’s walk around the block,” said Deena. “I’m not in the mood for Nell’s gossip.”
“And I’m not keen to be pumped for gossip,” I said.
As we cut across the lawn to the adjacent sidewalk, the sky grew dimmer under thickening clouds. A sudden breeze shook the branches of the poplar trees on the boulevard.
“I wonder how things went for Calvin at the police station,” I said. “Hopefully, he’s out of there by now.”
“Why don’t you call him?” said Deena.
I paused, popping the last bite of ice cream cone into my mouth. As I chewed, Deena handed me a paper napkin and raised one eyebrow. “You’re worried about him, aren’t you?”
Swallowing, I nodded my head. “Yeah, a little. It’s so unfair. Lowry victimized him, and now Calvin is being grilled about Lowry’s death.”
Deena put her hands on her hips. “I knew it. You really like him, don’t you?”
“Well, sure. Don’t you?”
“Sierra Ravenswood!” Deena used her mock-scolding tone. “Why have you been holding out on me? Haven’t I been saying what a cute couple you and Calvin would make?”
I grinned in spite of myself. “Have you?”
“What’s holding you back?” she asked. “Is it because he works for you?”
Now I dropped my smile. “Oh, gosh. I hadn’t even thought of that, but you raise a good point. What if we started dating and things didn’t work out? That could make it really uncomfortable at Flower House, and maybe even affect business.”
“True,” said Deena. “On the other hand, you’re the one always talking about ‘living in the now.’ Life is short. Might as well seize the day—or seize the man, as the case may be.”
For a moment, she directed a thoughtful gaze toward the sky, where puffy clouds threatened to build into a storm head. Was she thinking about a particular man, besides Calvin? She hadn’t dated anyone herself, since breaking up with her fiancé and coming back to Aerieville.
Before I could ask her, she returned her attention to me. “You should ask him out.”
“I dunno,” I hedged. “There’s a lot I really don’t know about Calvin. I don’t know anything about his childhood, or his past relationships, or—”
“Excuses, excuses,” she interrupted. “If you ask him, he’ll probably tell you anything you want to know.”
“You’re right,” I said, making up my mind. “But I think I’ll text instead of calling. That way I won’t put him on the spot.”
I pulled out my phone, found his name in my contacts, and typed a short message: So, are you in the slammer? Do I need to come up with some bail money?
I pressed Send, then showed Deena the message, which made her laugh. Biting my lip, I paced in a circle as I waited. A few seconds later, he replied: LOL. Thankfully, no. But not for the chief’s lack of trying. BTW, know any good lawyers?
Wincing, I showed Deena his response. “It doesn’t sound great,” I said.
“You could find out more over dinner,” she nudged.
“Right.” Quickly, before I could chicken out, I sent another message: I have a homemade casserole in my fridge at home. Want to come over and help me eat it? We can discuss your legal defense strategy.
Deena read my message and nodded her approval. “Good job.”
We started walking again. “Looks like rain,” I said, trying not to imagine what might be going through Calvin’s mind.
Rounding the corner, we headed back toward Main Street. As we approached the intersection, we spotted Nell again, coming out of the drugstore across the street, half a block away.
“Jeez,” said Deena. “It’s like she has a sixth sense or something.”
As we waited for the light to change, I felt my phone buzz. I grabbed it from my purse and read the text. My heart gave an excited flutter. “He said yes!”
“Of course he did,” said Deena.
More specifically, he’d said, “Sounds good. What time?”
I hastily typed in 6:00 as the walk sign lit up. At the same time, Nell caught sight of us. “Well, hello there!” she hollered. Waving her arms, she hurried our way.
“Don’t make eye contact!” Deena hissed.
Keeping our heads down, we jogged across the street and bolted for the parking lot. I stifled a giggle as we ran. Fortunately, we had a convenient reason for running away. The first fat raindrops splattered the pavement and pelted us like cold darts.
I didn’t mind in the least. Calvin was coming to my house for dinner.
After picking up Gus from Rocky, I had just enough time to get home, dry Gus off from the rain, change into a cute sundress, and pop the casserole in the oven to warm it up. Calvin showed up at six o’clock on the dot.
Naturally, Gus was ecstatic to see him. He barked, wagged, and jumped on Calvin like he was a vet returning from war.
Calvin laughed at the attention. “I missed you too, buddy.” When he managed to extricate himself from the onslaught of puppy love, he handed me a bottle of wine. “I wasn’t sure what kind of wine goes with a casserole, so I brought a Chardonnay.”
“That’s perfect,” I said. “Come on in and sit down.”
I poured the wine and doled out what was left of the flower salad Deena had made. Then we tucked into the broccoli rice casserole my mom had sent over. As fitness enthusiasts, my family rarely ate foods with a lot of excess fat and salt. So, even though there was heavy cream and cheddar cheese in the dish, it was still on the healthy side, with fresh broccoli, wild mushrooms, and brown rice. Served with a side of crusty bread and butter, it was the perfect comfort food for a stormy evening.
Thunder rumbled in the distance as Calvin and I ate. I asked if he minded sharing what had happened at his police interview, and he shook his head.
“Not at all. Bradley and Dakin tried to get me to confess to the murder, and I kept telling them it wasn’t me.”
“Did they play good cop, bad cop?” I asked, trying to keep the mood light.
He smiled briefly. “Not quite. Bradley was polite and casual, like she always seems to be, and Dakin mostly held back and watched. After about an hour of back-and-forth nonsense, they finally let me go. They knew they didn’t have a shred of evidence to hold me.”
“I can’t understand why they’re so focused on you,” I said, feeling indignant on Calvin’s behalf. He seemed impressively patient about the whole thing.
“I do,” he said. “They want a nice, tidy explanation. If they can pin me as a disgruntled employee or jealous rival, it makes their job a lot easier.”
“I guess,” I said, still not convinced.
“They also seem to think I knew Lowry was coming. This was a scheduled field trip, which supposedly happens every year. And I work at Flower House. They think I had the whole thing planned out.” Calvin sounded so calm. But when he took a sip of wine, I noticed his hand trembling slightly. Maybe he was more nervous than he was letting on.
I took a sip of my own wine and pondered whether the murder was spontaneous or planned. I could imagine arguments for both scenarios.
“You know,” I said, “maybe we should have told the police about that receipt Gus ate. It may not prove anything, but if it could exonerate you in any way…” I trailed off, as Calvin shook his head.
“I did tell them,” he said, “and they weren’t impressed. If anything, they seemed to suspect I made it up to deflect attention from myself.”
I put down my fork, once again feeling piqued. What kind of detective was Acting Chief Bradley? I was rapidly losing respect for her.
“It’s ironic,” Calvin went on. “Even though I was in the Botany program for several years, I always spent summers working on my family’s farm in Iowa. If I’d been around to participate in the summer field program, I might have met Felix much sooner. And you too.”
I looked up with a jolt. Calvin had just revealed so much, I didn’t know which part to follow up on: the mention of his family, the fact that he’d worked on a farm—or an admission that he might have feelings for me? After all, we hadn’t technically said this was a date.
Momentarily flummoxed, I cleared my throat—and ultimately decided to stick with the topic at hand. “I didn’t know about those field trips either,” I said. “I only worked for Felix part-time in high school—thanks to Granny, who was friends with Felix’s wife, Georgina. And I mainly arranged flowers or made deliveries. If Professor Lowry ever stopped by with a group of students, I probably wouldn’t have seen him.”
Calvin reached for the bottle of wine and topped off both of our glasses. “What were you like in high school?” he asked. “Were you always the optimistic dreamer? Always looking on the bright side and trying to influence things with your positivity, et cetera?” He smiled at me warmly, in spite of the teasing tone. Was he just trying to change the subject? Or did he really want to get to know me better? Either way, I didn’t mind taking our conversation to a more personal level.
“I guess I’ve always been a dreamer,” I admitted. “I wasn’t the strongest student, academically, even though I read a lot. I was more interested in art and music.”
“At least you get to use your creativity in floral design,” he said. “Flower House seems like a good fit for you.”
“Yeah. I’ve been lucky.” I paused, reconsidering my words. “Actually, I believe we create our own luck, to a large extent. I think a person’s outlook has a lot to do with their level of satisfaction. Know what I mean?”
For a moment, Calvin looked like he might be gearing up for a friendly debate. Then he tilted his head, as if reflecting on the idea. “That makes some sense,” he said. “If you happen to be an open, positive person, you’ll probably make more friends—and then have more opportunities come your way.”
“For sure,” I said. “You also have to be able to recognize opportunities for what they are—and grab them when you can. That’s what I tried to do with Flower House. I saw its potential and decided to go for it.”
A sudden flash of lightning lit up the darkness outside my kitchen windows. It was followed closely by a loud crash of thunder. Gus yelped in response.
“Yikes,” I said. “Sounds like it’s right on top of us.”
“Yeah.” Calvin pushed back his chair. “I looked at the radar before coming over here. There’s a huge band of storms making its way across the state.”
I took our plates to the sink and put the leftovers away, as Calvin comforted Gus. Then I joined them at the kitchen window to look outside. My side yard was engulfed in darkness, except for intermittent flashes of lightning. In those brief moments of illumination, we could see tree branches waving wildly in the wind.
“Guess we shouldn’t be standing here,” said Calvin, taking a step back.
“True,” I said. “Do you want to sit in the living room?”
Before he could answer, there was another crack of thunder. This one shook the cottage and made me jump. In the next instant, the lights went out.
I gasped and reached for Calvin’s hand in the darkness. With a quiet chuckle, he clasped my hand in a comforting grip and moved closer to me. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. Gus barked again at our feet.
“Got any candles?” Calvin asked softly.
I laughed nervously. “Yeah, somewhere. Let me think a minute.” The truth was, I was reluctant to leave Calvin’s side. Not that I was afraid of the storm, or of the dark. I just wanted to enjoy this moment of intimacy while it lasted.
I started to turn toward Calvin, when another bolt of lightning flashed outside the window. In that second, I saw a dark-clad person leering from the gloom of my yard. I screamed in surprise and jumped backward. In the next flash of light, the figure was gone.