No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t convince Wanda to have a bite to eat with me or let me call Granny, or anyone else, to accompany her home. She insisted she was perfectly fine and wanted to get home before dark. In fact, she did seem as steady and feisty as ever, so I reluctantly bade her goodbye.
By the time I returned to Flower House, the two bicycles were gone from the bakery, and Deena and Calvin were sitting on the front steps waiting for me. Gus was so excited to see them, I let go of his leash and allowed him to run the rest of the way. He bounded up the steps as fast as his little legs would carry him. Calvin smiled, but Deena looked grim.
“Why didn’t you come and get me?” she demanded. “I know you saw me at the historical society. I saw you look over and then go off the other way.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but she didn’t let me.
“And why didn’t you call the police?” she continued. “Some creep sneaks in the shop and traps you in a closet—don’t you think the cops should know about that?”
I felt my cheeks grow warm. “I wasn’t hurt,” I protested. “And nobody broke in. I’m not sure there was a crime to report.”
“Are you kidding?” She was giving me a look that reminded me an awful lot of my mother. “Unlawful imprisonment is a crime. Trespassing in our private work area is a crime.”
I knew she was right. “I’ll call now,” I said meekly, as I took out my phone. For the second time today, I dialed the number of the Aerieville police station. It took just a few minutes to report that there had been another incident at Flower House. The dispatcher informed me that an officer would be by shortly.
“Happy now?” I said to Deena.
“No,” she said bluntly. “I’m worried.” She picked at her fingers in a rare display of nervousness.
“I’m sorry,” I began.
She raised a palm to stop my apology. “It’s not your fault,” she said. “It’s mine.”
Now it was my turn to gape at her. “How in the world is it your fault?”
She squeezed her eyes shut briefly, as if gearing up for a confession. Then she spoke in a rush. “I saw Bart’s truck pull into the driveway, just as I was heading next door. I should have come back. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about you being alone inside. I had no idea he would—”
“Wait,” I said, cutting her off. “First of all—Bart was here? But, secondly, of course you wouldn’t have thought he’d do anything. He was a perfect gentleman with me yesterday—well, as much as he ever is.”
Calvin made a sound that might have been a scoff. He covered it by clearing his throat. “What time did you see the truck, Deena? It must have been when I was in the greenhouse.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It was just a few minutes after I came outside, I think.”
“Did you see him knock on the back door or come inside?” I asked.
“No.” Deena winced regretfully. “I didn’t even see him get out of his truck. I went inside at the historical society to see some artifacts Becki wanted to show me.”
I pinched my lip in thought. I couldn’t imagine why Bart would stop by without a delivery. In fact, I was kind of surprised he was still in town. Still, I wasn’t completely convinced that he was the one who had locked me in the storeroom.
“Did Calvin tell you Vince and Isaiah were here too? And possibly April?”
“Yeah,” Deena acknowledged. “I guess it could have been one of them.”
I turned to Calvin. “How was the tour, by the way? Was Isaiah really interested in the orchids?”
“Evidently so. He asked intelligent questions and seemed to know a lot already.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
“He was especially interested in rare and valuable orchids,” Calvin went on. “Which we don’t have here.”
“Like the ghost orchid?” said Deena, with a hint of amusement. I figured she was remembering the book and movie about orchid poaching that had come out several years earlier.
Calvin nodded. “He mentioned that one among others.” Gus nosed Calvin for attention. He ruffled the pup’s fur before continuing. “I’ll say one thing about the kid, he’s clearly got ambition and drive. That much was clear. He even made a comment about looking out for himself and taking matters into his own hands.”
“Really?” I said. “In what context?”
“He was talking about taking the initiative to bike over here. But I got the impression he was describing his philosophy with everything.”
At that moment, a patrol car rolled up the street and stopped in front of Flower House. Once again, Officer Davy Wills got out and strode up the walkway. I was glad the bakery next door was dark, as was the Morrisons’ cottage in back.
“Long time no see,” I joked.
“This is getting to be a popular place,” he said.
I invited him to have a seat on the porch, but he chose to stand as he took our statements. After explaining everything that had happened, we also told him about Bart’s brief appearance, as well as the visit from Isaiah. Then I surprised everyone by describing my encounter with Wanda in the park.
Davy didn’t seem to see the relevance of Wanda’s presence in the neighborhood, but he dutifully wrote down what I told him. Of course, Calvin and Deena both knew.
“It’s quite a coincidence,” Deena mused. “Everyone who was here when the professor was killed, was also here when Sierra was locked in the storeroom.”
“Maybe,” said Davy. “Though we don’t know that any of them were in the shop. And from what you’ve said, anyone could have entered through the front door without being seen. Is it possible someone was playing a practical joke?”
I glanced at Calvin, and he rolled his eyes. I’d been right that the police would want to blame this on a prank.
I knew better. Call it a hunch, but I felt certain the killer had returned to the scene of the crime. The question was, why? Or, more to the point, what had they been looking for?
After Davy left, I locked up and urged Deena to go home. She’d been here all day, and I was worried this place was starting to stress her out. I assured her I was fine and that I didn’t blame her in the least for anything at all.
I made my rounds through the shop, changing out the water-and-flower-food solution in all the pails and trimming the stems of any flowers we’d had for a few days. Calvin helped, even though I told him he didn’t have to. Secretly, though, I was glad to have his company.
That done, I printed out our most recent online orders and placed them on the worktable for tomorrow. Then I lingered in the workroom, rerolling loose ribbons and wiping down the already clean countertops. Though I usually didn’t mind going home alone, I was having qualms tonight.
Calvin must have picked up on my reluctance to leave. “Hey,” he said. “I was thinking about ordering a pizza. Want to join me?”
“Mmm! Yeah.” I jumped on the offer. “I’m actually really hungry. Pizza sounds great.”
We agreed on toppings—which wasn’t hard since we both loved to load our pizzas with the works. When it arrived, Calvin suggested we take it up to his apartment. He had cold beer and soda in his fridge and said we might as well not dirty the plates in the café. That sounded fine to me. After what I’d been through, I opted for a beer.
It turned out to be a pleasant dinner in Calvin’s small eat-in kitchen. The apartment’s décor was pretty dated, since it had sat empty for more than a decade after Felix moved into a cabin in the woods, following Georgina’s death. But it was clean and homey and featured a few of Calvin’s personal touches, such as botanical wall art, some books on historical treasure hunting, and a collection of sparkly geodes.
Gus polished off his dog food and sat near our feet as we ate. I told Calvin about my Nashville days, and he asked if he’d ever get to hear me sing or play my guitar.
I sighed. “I haven’t touched my guitar in ages. My life has taken an unexpected turn in a different direction.”
“Mine too,” he said, with a small smile.
“Not that this is a bad thing,” I clarified. “I’m pretty happy with my life right now—other than the unfortunate death that occurred here. Aren’t you?”
Calvin took a bite of his pizza and chewed thoughtfully, making me wait. When he finally swallowed, he looked me in the eyes. His gaze was tender and warm. My heartbeat quickened under his attention.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Before Saturday I was pretty content.”
“Things will get back to normal soon,” I said.
“I hope so.”
He took a sip of beer and I followed suit. I was beginning to feel mellow and a little flirtatious. “Tell me about your childhood,” I said. “You grew up on a farm in Iowa? Did you leave a lot of broken hearts back there when you moved to Tennessee?”
He laughed. “Yeah, a whole trail of them. It was devastating.”
My cell phone jingled, so I reached for it and checked the incoming number. It was unfamiliar, which usually meant I’d ignore the call. Then again, the last unknown number had led to a wedding job. “Guess I’ll see who this is,” I said to Calvin, as I pressed Answer. “Hello?”
“Hi, Sierra,” said a man’s rough voice.
It took me a second to place it. “Bart?”
Calvin froze, holding a slice of pizza in midair.
“Are you home?” said Bart. “I’m in your neighborhood, and I wanted to stop by.”
“Um. No, sorry. I’m not home right now.” I shivered, struck with a sudden chill. How does Bart know where I live? For that matter, how did he get my cell phone number?
“Are you coming home soon?”
I swallowed, as my eyes slid to meet Calvin’s. He was watching me closely.
“No,” I said, making a snap decision. “I’m staying at a friend’s house tonight. Was there something you wanted to tell me?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Not really. I just wanted to apologize for yesterday.”
“What about yesterday?” I asked.
“For drinking so much. I didn’t mean to scare you off.”
“You didn’t scare me off,” I said. Though, he was scaring me a little now. “And there’s no need to apologize, but thank you anyway.”
“Yeah.”
I had the sense he wanted to say more. Could it be a confession? I should keep him talking. “Oh, I heard you stopped by Flower House this afternoon,” I said. “I’m sorry I missed you. Did you come inside?”
“No. I chickened out.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. I was just going to say I was sorry, but I decided to call instead.”
“Are you sure that’s all?” I tried to keep my voice light and friendly. “You know, you can tell me anything.” In my peripheral vision I saw Calvin’s eyebrows shoot up. Maybe I’d sounded a little more like Mae West than I’d intended to.
Bart cleared his throat. “Likewise. You can tell me anything too.”
I frowned. What would I have to tell him? “Thank you,” I said uncertainly. “So, are you staying in Aerieville again tonight? Don’t you have deliveries to make tomorrow?”
“Yeah, no. I’m going home tonight. Unless you want to meet somewhere for a drink?”
Not again. Bart was obviously interested in more than a platonic friendship with me. And I most certainly was not. “Sorry. I’m pretty tired. And, like I said, I’m with a friend. I’ll see you Thursday, though.”
“Right. Special delivery.”
“Good night, Bart.”
I hung up, set my phone on the table, and gave Calvin an embarrassed grin. “That was kind of weird, huh?”
“Is it weird that a guy would ask you out? No.”
“It’s just weird because Bart has been acting weird.” I told Calvin about my conversation with Pauly earlier today, including the fact that Bart had lied about his wife having passed away.
“Maybe his ex-wife died,” Calvin suggested.
“I don’t think so. Pauly seemed to know Bart’s wife had left him following a car accident.” Now that I thought about it, maybe Bart was just shy and out of practice with women. Still, that didn’t entirely explain his odd behavior. “Get this—Pauly also said Bart made deliveries to the UT science department. For flower experiments or something?”
Calvin nodded. “Flowers are needed for classes every semester, from Botany 101 to Plant Physiology. The deliveries usually happen early in the morning. I don’t think I ever encountered the delivery person when I was there.”
“Would Professor Lowry have accepted the deliveries?”
Calvin looked doubtful. “Lowry wouldn’t usually be in the science building that early.”
Hmm. I toyed with the label on my beer bottle, as I contemplated my impression of Bart. Maybe he hadn’t lied about never having met Lowry after all. But his behavior, on the whole, was still pretty sketchy. And it really bugged me that he was supposedly in my neighborhood and thought he’d just stop by my house. The idea gave me the creeps, especially after what had happened this afternoon.
Calvin regarded me with interest. “So, you’re staying at a friend’s house tonight?”
Oh, right. He’d heard me lie to Bart about that. I laughed nervously. “I was just saying that to—”
“You can stay here,” he interrupted. He’d said it mildly, as if it were no big deal.
“Oh! Well…” I trailed off, not sure what to say. In truth, the idea was appealing for more than one reason.
“You can have my bedroom. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
I smiled. “Thank you. I am feeling uncommonly nervous tonight. I’ll stay, but on one condition.”
“Yeah?”
“I get the couch.”