‘“Little Lena needs to tend to that garden.”’
‘What?’ Daria asked as she and Manny walked down the courthouse hallway on Friday morning. A string of defendants in cuffs shuffled past them on their way to DCJ. One of them whistled at her.
‘That’s what he said. That’s all he said, basically. The interview was a waste of time, although I’m certain now that he knows Bantling. And I’m certain I’m right about this club. What the hell does that mean, though, that garden comment?’ Bear asked.
Daria shrugged.
‘Like I told ya, he’s not gonna talk, Counselor. He’s loving this. Wants to see himself in the spotlight. He also called you incompetent, although he did say you were hot—’ He stopped short. ‘Jesus! What the hell is wrong with you?’
Daria’s face had gone ashen.
‘Don’t shake your head at me. You’re as white as a ghost. Let’s get you a seat.’ He ushered her to a bench and sat beside her. ‘Either you’re sick or it was something I said. Please don’t yak on my shoes. They’re new. Also, I have an aversion to people puking. I can’t handle it.’
‘I’m okay,’ she said. ‘Just got a little dizzy. I didn’t have breakfast.’
‘Bullshit. For a lawyer, you’re a shit liar. You gotta work on that. Are you upset he called you incompetent or that he called you hot?’ Manny laughed. ‘You shouldn’t take it personal or nothing, Counselor. And what does, “Little Lena needs to tend her garden” mean? Is that from a book or something?’
She paused for a moment. ‘Daria is my grandmother’s name, Manny. I took her name after she died because I hated my birth name.’
‘Which is?’
‘Maddalena.’
‘That’s pretty.’
‘Don’t go there.’
‘Let me guess, you were named after your mother?’
‘You’re a good detective.’
‘And you really are passive-aggressive. You changed the name your momma gave you? Ouch.’
‘I don’t need a lecture.’
‘And it was her name, too. Freud would have fun with you. So you are Little Lena. I’m guessing Lena is short for Maddalena.’
‘Stop detectiving me.’
‘I don’t think that’s a word.’
‘He knows my birth name, Manny. How fucked up is that?’
‘’Cause you legally changed it, right? That’s public record. There’s no place to hide in cyberworld. I should’ve googled you, come to think of it. Put your own name into a search engine and see how much shit comes up that you didn’t know about yourself. Could be Talbot’s mommy looked you up. He didn’t seem to like the thought of us talking to her. Doesn’t want to share the spotlight with her, maybe?’
Daria glanced away, down the hall. She rubbed her hands together. ‘But my nickname, Manny?’
‘Not a quantum leap. I did it, right? Don’t get all nervous on me. I like you better when you’re mean and feisty. Now it just feels awkward. Listen, you can’t let this two-bit punk kid get inside your head like that. You still up for Bantling next week? ’Cause if Pretty Boy Talbot Lunders can shake you up like this, just wait till you meet Cupid.’
She nodded. ‘So what else did he say?’
‘Nothing. He’s looking forward to a trial on Court TV and a career on the big screen after he’s discovered, and acquitted, of course. But I did notice something very interesting that I didn’t see before. A tattoo on his right forearm. A dark red — get this — lightning bolt.’
‘That’s coincidental.’
‘Isn’t it? I don’t like coincidences, Counselor. Usually I find there is no such thing.’
‘I’m sure a zillion other skin-art fanatics in that hellhole have lightning bolts etched somewhere on their epidermises,’ she said.
‘But not all of them are suspects in our case.’
She stood up. ‘So I guess we move on to Bantling now. Is that still on for Tuesday?’
‘Not so quick, Counselor. What else is getting to you? And don’t say “nothing”, ’cause like I said, you’re a shit liar. He knows your nickname. Okay. So what did he mean with that garden comment?’
She ran a hand through her thick hair. ‘Maybe I’m taking it wrong. Maybe I’m just being paranoid …’
‘What? What is it? Spit it out.’
‘I … I live in a townhouse in Victoria Park. It’s a nice, quiet neighborhood up in Fort Lauderdale and I have a garden in the back. A flower and herb garden. Not real big — a few roses, sunflowers, basil, simple stuff. I’ve tried everything, but I must have cinch bugs or something. In the last few weeks or so everything’s been dying. Since the Arthur Hearing, actually, now that I think about it.’
‘Okay. Horticulture ain’t your thing. I’m betting you’re not so hot at cooking, neither. You don’t plug me as the domestic type.’
She shot him a look. ‘Actually, my roses are usually really beautiful. Prize winners, I suppose, if I wanted to enter them in a contest. But not anymore. Someone would’ve had to have told him that, Manny. Someone who’s seen that garden. Someone who’s been to my house.’
Manny frowned. ‘Okay. I see what you’re thinking and why you might be a little paranoid, but—’
She wasn’t done. ‘And then this morning, I came downstairs, opened my kitchen blinds and they were all gone.’
‘You mean dead?’
‘No. I mean gone. Someone cut the tops off all my roses. Not the other flowers, just the roses, the ones that hadn’t died. There’s nothing left now but a garden of thorny stems.’ She looked away. ‘I thought it was a disgruntled neighbor, you know. Maybe I parked in the wrong spot, or I hung my towels over my balcony railing without thinking. Who the hell knows what ticks people off? But now …’ She looked at him. ‘Jesus, Manny — what the hell am I supposed to think?’