I spun around, the miniature flowerpot in hand. “Who did this?” I yelled at the neighborhood. There was no answer from the psychologists next door, nor the family across the street. Lenny, still on the line, told me to calm down. I tossed the flower over the front railing of my stoop. Now it was in my yard, the petals still picture-perfect. I stomped down the steps, walked into my yard, and crushed them with my tennis shoe. It was then I noticed Mrs. Gunderson staring at me. Mrs. Gunderson, the eyes and ears of our block—who was I kidding?—the entire town. I’d have to explain.
“I gotta go, Lenny. I’ll call you back after I shower.” I clicked off the phone and turned to Mrs. Gunderson.
“I know you have a hard time growing plants, Emmeline, but really, that was uncalled for.” Mrs. Gunderson, wearing navy-blue pants and a flowered top, held a plastic watering can in her hand. Her dog, Darling, lay near her Hostas, and I read judgment on his spoilt mug.
“It’s not that,” I said. “Someone is messing with me. They keep leaving me flowers, notes, clues that I can’t piece together. Have you seen anyone around my house this morning?”
“I went to church at eight thirty,” said Mrs. Gunderson. “So I haven’t been home the entire time, but I haven’t seen anyone near your house. Rest assured, if I did, I would ask them what they were doing. I’m not afraid to call out hooligans when I see them acting up.”
I knew she meant what she said. I’d seen her approach students, neighbors, and police officers with the same idea: it was her neighborhood and she would decide what did and did not happen on her block. “Just be careful,” I said. “Something very strange is going on, and I don’t want you involved.”
She set down the watering can with a plunk. “I most certainly will get involved. I’m not as old and frail as I look.”
She looked anything but old and frail. With pink lips, curled hair, and church clothes, she was more put-together than I was most days. She had a strong will that went along with her sturdy polyester pants. “I’m just saying, if you see something, call the police. I don’t know what kind of creep I’m dealing with. I have no idea where these came from.”
“Why don’t you check the price tag?” Mrs. Gunderson said, approaching my yard. Darling followed.
“That’s a really good idea.” I bent down and turned over the plastic pot. The price tag had been removed. “Nothing.”
Mrs. Gunderson leaned over my shoulder. “Those are pansies.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“There’s only one place in town that would have them out so early,” said Mrs. Gunderson. “Petal’s Place.”
“Petal’s Place,” I repeated. Of course. It was too early for pansies and many other flowers. Lots of Midwesterners didn’t put out flowers until Mother’s Day, the gold standard for planting season. But Petal’s was the flower shop downtown and the only place that offered blooms year-round. I could easily check there. Someone might remember who bought the pansies. “Thank you, Mrs. Gunderson. You’ve been a great help.”
“You’re welcome,” she said. Darling showed his gratitude by peeing on my tree.
After a quick breakfast and shower, I called Lenny back. Since our earlier call, he’d driven Felix to the hospital to see Andy, and he was on his way to my house. Maybe it was fate. Andy and Felix wouldn’t be able to leave town after all. If they were connected to Tanner’s murder, I had more time to find out. One thing was certain: Andy had nothing to do with the pansies. He had an airtight alibi.
Dickinson made a good show of running up to Lenny when I opened the door, as if she had been the one to suffer insult and injury. Meowing, she told her story of her night all alone in the house. If only she could tell me who’d left the pansies at my door. But this wasn’t Agatha Christie’s Dumb Witness. My pet would be the last animal in the world to help me out.
“So, while you were away, your stalker came to play,” said Lenny, scratching Dickinson’s ears.
“It’s probably a good thing I wasn’t here.” I seized the opportunity to bolster my position in our earlier disagreement. “Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t taken that walk.”
Lenny stopped petting Dickinson and stood. He took a step closer. All six feet of him was in my space when he touched my chin. “I don’t want to fight.”
I didn’t want to fight either, not with him sending shivers down my spine.
He brushed my lips with his. “Okay?”
I nodded.
“Good.”
I wondered what I had just agreed to. Taking a step back, I refocused on my afternoon plans. “I’d like to go to the hospital to see Andy. I can’t believe he really had food poisoning. But first, I want to stop by Petal’s Place downtown. Mrs. Gunderson says it’s the only store in town with pansies.”
“It’s a small store,” he said. “The cashier might remember who bought them.”
“Exactly,” I said, slipping on my tennis shoes. “Let’s go.”
Lenny’s old Ford Taurus sputtered to a start, and soon we were driving toward Main Street. I saw the problem with my plan the minute we approached the stoplight. Like most stores, Petal’s Place wasn’t open on Sundays. My questions would have to wait until tomorrow.
“Shoot,” I said. “It’s not open.”
“So, where to now?” said Lenny.
“The hospital,” I said.
Lenny grumbled. “I just came from there. It’s going to look really weird when I show up again.”
“I’ll say I wanted to see Andy.”
He looked skeptical. “Because you guys are such good friends.”
“We drove him home—and he called you for a ride.” I shrugged. “I think that constitutes friendship.”
“I don’t understand why you want to go,” said Lenny. “He’s just going to rub our faces in our poor judgment. He told us he was sick last night. We should have believed him.”
“I still don’t know if I believe him,” I said. “Nobody else got sick, and it was a buffet.”
Lenny turned toward the hospital. “So … what are you saying?”
“I’m saying it might not be food poisoning.”
“Why don’t we let the doctors be the judge of that.” Lenny put the car in park.
“That’s what I’m doing,” I said.
“Helping the doctors judge if Andy has food poisoning?” said Lenny. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate your input.”
I opened my car door. “I want to make sure they don’t jump to a conclusion, that’s all. I need to make them aware of the connection between Tanner and Andy.”
“We’re not sure a connection exists.”
“We’re not sure a connection doesn’t exist, either,” I said, arranging my scarf. “Andy’s illness could be attempted murder.”
Lenny raised one dark eyebrow, a skill I coveted. “I don’t know, Em. Think about all the trouble Tanner’s murderer went to. The garden, the scene, the liquid in the ear. How could he botch this murder so badly?”
“I don’t have all the answers,” I whispered as we entered the hospital. “That’s why I’m here.” The facility was cold, quiet, and sterile. It smelled like latex and disinfectant. It made me sick with its pungency.
After learning Andy’s room number from a volunteer, we took the elevator to the second floor. I hoped he felt better. The last thing I wanted was to walk in on him while he was throwing up. Felix being there was a good sign, though. He would have called Lenny for a ride if Andy was too ill for visitors.
Andy’s door was half closed, and Lenny knocked on it softly. “It’s Lenny and Em. Can we come in?”
“Sure.” The voice was Felix’s.
As we entered the dimly lit space, I was surprised by the gravity of the situation. Andy was hooked up to an IV as well as a machine that monitored his vitals. His cheeks were pale, and the skin around his eyes ashen. Had someone told me he was the same scholar from the Shakespeare conference, I wouldn’t have believed them. He didn’t respond when we said hello. His lips turned up as if he were attempting a smile, but then he reached for his stomach. The action seemed to physically hurt.
“It looks like he’s taken a turn for the worse,” Lenny whispered in my ear.
“How’s he doing?” I said to Felix.
“Not as well as we’d hoped,” said Felix. “I thought we might be able to make our flight today, but it will need to be rescheduled. Which isn’t a problem,” Felix added when Andy’s eyebrows lifted.
“Did the doctor say how long it’d be?” asked Lenny.
“She’s not sure,” said Felix. “If he doesn’t show signs of improvement soon, they’re going to test for bacteria. If it’s positive, the health department will need to be notified of a possible outbreak.”
“I’m so sorry, Andy,” I said. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Call the authorities,” said Andy between gasps. “Tell them to shut down that cesspool of a restaurant.”
I didn’t enjoy hearing him call one of the nicest restaurants in town a cesspool, but I bit my tongue. The guy was in pain. He was allowed a few choice words about Bluff View. “Do you have any idea what food caused it? Did you start getting ill right away?”
“Not right away.” He closed his eyes. “Not until after dinner. It could have been anything. Maybe the salad.”
Several cases of contaminated Romaine lettuce had been reported in the last year, but I’d had the salad, too, and I felt fine. We hadn’t been seated at the same table. Perhaps different batches of lettuce had been served.
His eyes flew open, and he grabbed for his emesis bag. That was our cue to leave. We all rushed out of the room, almost colliding with the nurse outside Andy’s door. He was a brick wall, and just as sturdy as one. My bumping into him didn’t faze him.
“Stomach again?” The nurse wore green scrubs, a badge, and carried a small phone.
I nodded.
“Hey, Zeb,” said Lenny. “How are you?”
“Professor Jenkins,” said Zeb, holding out his hand. “Good to see you. I didn’t realize Andy was an English professor.”
“Not yet,” said Lenny. “He’ll graduate in May from Denver, though. Felix, here, is his advisor.” Felix nodded in acknowledgment before scooting off to get a drink from the water fountain.
“No wonder those guys weren’t familiar,” said Zeb, after Felix left. “I didn’t recognize them.”
“How is Andy?” I asked. “He seems really sick.”
“Food poisoning can be pretty dangerous,” said Zeb. “Most people don’t realize, but symptoms can persist for several days. The Zofran should have helped with the nausea. We might need to increase his dosage.”
“We all ate the same buffet last night,” I said. “Does that mean we can all expect to get sick?”
“Not necessarily,” said Zeb. “It might have been something he ate earlier in the day. Many times it takes hours for food poisoning to catch up with you, though certain strains, like staphylococcus aureus, can wreak havoc in as little as thirty minutes.”
He made a good point. Andy could have eaten something for lunch that affected him at dinner.
“But you think it is food poisoning?” asked Lenny.
“For now,” said Zeb. “If he doesn’t get better, the doctor might need to look into other possibilities, including an antibiotic for a bacterial infection.” Zeb’s phone began to ring.
“Is it okay if we check back later?” Lenny asked.
Zeb nodded. “Sure thing. I gotta take this.”
Felix returned from the water fountain, and we updated him with the information Zeb had given us.
“Am I correct in assuming it might be several days before we can leave?” Felix asked, looking toward Andy’s room. His gray hair was parted perfectly to one side.
“It’s possible,” I said. “If I were you, I’d wait to rebook my flight. I’m sure he’ll improve by tomorrow.”
Felix scratched his neck. “This trip has been one bloody disaster after another. First, the young actor, now Andy. They say big cities aren’t safe, but I wonder.”
“Your lecture was fantastic, if that makes you feel any better about the trip,” I said.
“And Giles said your book is selling really well in the bookstore,” added Lenny.
I wasn’t the only one doing damage control. Lenny didn’t want our big-name scholar leaving Copper Bluff disgruntled either.
“Thank you,” said Felix. “I’m glad to hear it. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to sit with Andy. He’s been like a son to me these past few years. I don’t want him going through this ordeal alone.”
“Please let us know if we can help,” I said. “We can be here night or day.”
“Night or day?” Lenny said after Felix left. “Isn’t that a bit drastic?”
“You know what they say: drastic times, drastic measures.”
Lenny took out his keys. “I should have known that was coming.”