I was so upset after Calvin left with the police, I couldn’t bear to be in the quiet shop alone. I’d forgotten to mention the footprint and the missing canteen. For all I knew, the police could have already found them. It wasn’t my job to do their work for them. Surely they knew what they were doing. Right?
Poor Calvin. He didn’t even get to have a cinnamon roll! I left the pastry bag in the café room and took off on a walk with Gus. Breezing past Bread n’ Butter, I headed to Melody Gardens, hoping to soak up some peaceful vibes.
The park was home to plenty of scampering squirrels and twittering birds, but devoid of people. The solitude was peaceful. Yet, as we meandered along the flagstone path, past pine trees and flower beds, and around the rocky cascading water fountain, I barely noticed our surroundings. I was too preoccupied.
Why were the cops focusing on Calvin anyway? It was a waste of time. Shouldn’t they be questioning the people who had arrived with the victim? If I were in charge of the investigation, I’d want to know what Lowry had been doing in the time leading up to his demise. What was his conversation about with the students in the orchid room? How about in the van before they showed up? Why was he driving erratically, as Bart had claimed?
Even earlier than that, what was going on in the professor’s life that made him start missing appointments and classes and steal Calvin’s research?
With these questions swirling in my mind, I circled around to exit the park. Without meaning to, I’d begun to formulate a plan. Why couldn’t I go ahead and ask some of these questions myself?
On my way back to Flower House, I paused on the sidewalk and let Gus sniff the grass, while I made two phone calls: one to Rocky to see if he’d mind dog-sitting for a while (he never minded), and one to Deena. I needed a partner for this mission.
That done, I coaxed Gus along toward my car. We were still half a block from the shop, when I saw a vehicle pull out of the Flower House driveway. It was a Pauly’s Plants delivery truck—unmistakable with its dark green paint and pink and yellow flower decals. It turned onto Oak Street and headed away from me, so I didn’t get a good look at the driver. I assumed it was Bart.
I wonder what he wanted. We never received deliveries on Sundays. Maybe he just wanted to talk.
Come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind having a chat with the man myself. Among my many questions were one or two for Bart Hammerson. He’d have to wait, though. For now, it was time to talk to some college students.
It was lunchtime when Deena and I convened at our friend Richard’s B&B. We’d called ahead, so he knew to expect us. With open arms and a wide smile, he greeted us from the porch of the newly renovated farmhouse he’d inherited from his mother.
“It’s my girls! It’s about time you two came to see me. I know you’ve been busy with the flower shop, but I miss our gab fests.”
“You’ve been busy too.” Deena gestured toward the freshly painted sign in the front yard, declaring the house Mountain View Bed & Breakfast—Richard Wales, proprietor.
“The place looks great,” I said, leaning in to let Richard kiss me on the cheek.
Tall and sandy-haired, Richard Wales was one of my first crushes as a young schoolgirl. Even after he came out as gay, I couldn’t help pining after him just a smidge. He was just so darn attractive, funny, and handy. He represented what I always longed for in a romantic partner.
Now, he looked happier than I’d seen him in a long time. I knew he’d had a tough past couple of years, between caring for his sick mother, handling her affairs when she passed, and then losing his job as a bank teller. Of course, the job loss was his own fault after a series of bad decisions. He was lucky the job was all he’d lost. But he’d always been a good person at heart, and I was glad to see him doing well.
“Come in, come in.” He led us through the living room, outfitted in a modern rustic style, with reclaimed wood floors, exposed beams, and a massive stone fireplace. Overstuffed chairs with earth-tone pillows and a comfy-looking sofa were arranged for conversation or kicking back. The adjoining dining room was equally inviting. A large picture window, with tied-back ruffled curtains, permitted an abundance of sunlight and a stellar view of the Smoky Mountains in the distance. In the center of the room was a long oval table covered in a cream-colored lacy cloth. The polished hickory sideboard was laden with platters of cut sandwiches, potato salad, and watermelon cubes, along with a crystal carafe of cucumber-infused ice water.
Richard handed us plates and told us to help ourselves. He filled his own plate and poured us drinks, before joining us at the table. Deena and I oohed and aahed over both the impressive spread and the beautiful renovations he’d made.
“It was a labor of love,” he said, opening a gingham cloth napkin with a flourish. “I’m having so much fun with this new gig. And, Sierra, I have to thank you for the referral. Not many people know about me yet. All my rooms were empty until Sheila and crew arrived. Now all three of my guest rooms are full, and I actually have someone to cook for.”
“Where are they now?” I asked, around a mouthful of cheese sandwich. “You don’t provide lunch for your guests, do you?”
“No. Breakfast only, plus tea and treats in the afternoon. I have a catering deal with Tea for You.”
Deena’s eyes lit up, and I knew it wasn’t just because she liked the tea offerings at Tea for You (even though she did). She was undoubtedly thinking we should ask Richard to serve some of our flower-themed treats. I had the same idea, though it wasn’t my first priority at the moment.
“I imagine they’ll be back soon,” Richard continued. “They got up early for breakfast and went for a hike in the foothills.”
I took a sip of water and glanced out the window. “I don’t suppose you’ve talked much with them, have you?”
“Actually, yes. I ordered pizza last night, and we all hung out in the living room for a while. We had another nice chat this morning over breakfast. They’re a delightful bunch.”
Deena snorted, and I smirked, assuming he was being sarcastic. “Yeah, right.”
Richard cocked his head curiously. “No, really. They’re adorable. They’ve been cracking me up ever since they got here—with their memes and idealism and references I don’t get. Like I said, they’re totally cute.”
Deena and I exchanged a look, and she raised an eyebrow. “That’s not how you described them,” she said to me.
I frowned, thrown by Richard’s account of the students’ personalities. “That’s not how they appeared yesterday—even before their professor died. In fact, those three were the only students who weren’t horsing around. They seemed sort of serious and aloof.”
Richard shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe it’s the relaxing environment here.”
Was that it? I wondered. Or could it have something to do with the death of their professor? Calvin had described Lowry as difficult. Maybe the students were tired of being “Lowry’s Lackeys.” Of course, that was hardly a strong motive for murder. As usual, I was letting my imagination get ahead of me.
Deena was bringing Richard up to speed on the progress of our new café. He promised to come and see it as soon as he could.
“Oh, and something else,” he said. “Now that you’ve seen my place, I want to hire you to keep me stocked with fresh flower arrangements. What do you think? Is once a week doable?”
“Really?” I said. “I’d love to do that!”
“Perfect. Florist’s choice. I trust you to put together something lovely with whatever flowers are in season.”
“Do you have a certain number of bouquets in mind?” asked Deena. “Or certain locations? Maybe in the entryway and living room?”
“I was thinking flowers in every room,” said Richard. He winked at me and took a bite of watermelon.
Smiling, I finished off my own bowl of watermelon, savoring the juicy sweetness. Richard’s buoyancy was rubbing off on me. He used to be a bit of a cynic. Now, he was Mr. Cheerful. If I didn’t know any better, I might suspect the new B&B wasn’t the only reason for his high spirits. Unless …
“Hey, Richard,” I said suddenly. “Are you seeing anyone?”
He took a drink of water, giving me a sly look over the rim.
Deena put down her fork and looked at him in surprise. “Are you?” she demanded.
He made us wait, as he set his glass down and wiped his mouth. Then he grinned like the cat that ate the canary. “I am.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” said Deena, acting aggrieved, though smiling anyway. “That’s wonderful!”
“Is it anyone we know?” I asked.
He paused again, apparently being coy. “Um, maybe.”
“What do you mean ‘maybe’?” said Deena.
“I’m afraid I can’t share that information just yet.” At our pouting expressions, he lifted his shoulders. “Sorry, ladies. He’s not fully out of the closet. Hopefully, that’ll change one day soon.”
“Ah, okay,” I said. It was understandable Richard would want to protect his new beau’s privacy, especially considering not everyone was as open-minded as we were. Still, the situation would have made me a little sad, if not for the fact that Richard seemed to be having fun with his secret. And like he said, circumstances would hopefully change in the near future.
“Fine,” said Deena. “But you know we wouldn’t tell.”
We finished our lunch, chatting about this and that, then helped Richard clear the table.
After putting away the last of the leftovers, I suggested a tour of the house. “We can scope out ideal spots for your flower arrangements. Deena can take pictures, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all,” he said, ushering us to the living room. “But first, I have to ask you one thing.”
“What is it?”
“Well, not to be ghoulish, but I thought you might tell me about finding a dead man in your kitchen.”
“Storeroom,” I corrected automatically. Whoever was spreading gossip around town had got that detail wrong.
“I’m surprised it took you so long to ask,” Deena said.
“I thought I’d be civilized and wait ’til we’d finished eating.”
“There’s not a whole lot to tell,” I said. “It happened pretty fast.”
I dropped into one of the cozy armchairs and gave him the short version of yesterday’s events. “Didn’t your guests tell you all about it?”
“They acted like they were pretty in the dark about the whole thing. Of course, Sheila wasn’t there when it happened. And April and the boys said they were outside. But they figured it could only have been one of two people who attacked their professor.”
“Who?” said Deena. I didn’t have to ask. I was already pretty sure I knew what he was going to say.
“They said it might have been a truck driver they’d encountered on the highway. They think the driver must have followed them, so he could confront the professor. I guess he made quite the scene in the street, yelling and cursing?”
“Something like that,” I said.
“But they were conflicted, because evidently their professor’s nemesis happened to work at Flower House. I assumed they were talking about Calvin.”
“Nemesis? I mean, yeah, Calvin had reason to be angry with Professor Lowry. But I don’t think nemesis is the right word.”
Deena looked thoughtful. “I’m kind of surprised the police didn’t arrest Bart, the deliveryman, right then and there. He does seem to be the most obvious suspect.”
I shook my head. “Guys, everyone there is a suspect. Including the three students.”
Richard narrowed his eyebrows as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him. “My guests? Those three nice kids? I don’t think so.”
“Isn’t that why they’re still here?” asked Deena.
“They stayed voluntarily,” said Richard. “Sheila told me the university attorney recommended they cooperate. The police can’t actually make them stay without charging them with something.”
At that moment, a doorbell chimed throughout the house. “That must be them,” said Richard, heading for the front door.
Deena and I hung back as Richard welcomed his returning guests. “Y’all made it!” he said. “See any bears or snakes?”
The group piled into the living room, dropping backpacks on the floor and removing their hiking boots. Several of them spoke at once.
“No bears, but we saw plenty of birds,” said April. “I was glad I brought my binoculars.” She appeared even more youthful today, with Swiss Miss–style braids and a cropped T-shirt. I guessed she must be eighteen years old. Her classmates seemed a little older. Isaiah, Mr. Preppy, was probably around twenty, I figured; while bad boy Vince might have been twenty-two or twenty-three. Their teacher, Sheila, appeared to be in her late thirties.
“It was lovely,” said Sheila. “So good to be in the fresh air.”
“Saw lots of interesting plants,” said Isaiah, still looking preppy in walking shorts and a ringer tee. “I made good use of my plant ID app.”
Vince lifted his white T-shirt to fan his midriff—and show off his surprisingly toned abs. “It’s hotter ’n’ Hades out there,” he drawled. “I almost took a dip in the lake, but the others wouldn’t let me.”
“Come in and cool off,” said Richard. “Who wants a cold drink? I’ve got cold water and iced tea. Or I could whip up some lemonade.”
Deena regarded the students with interest. This was the first time she’d seen them up close. As for me, I was fascinated by the transformation. Richard was right. They came across as a fun-loving bunch. Not a mourner among them.
“Lemonade sounds yummy,” said April.
“Got any beer?” asked Vince.
Sheila gave him a warning look. “What did I say last night? No alcohol. This is technically still a school-sponsored event.”
Vince grinned impishly and shrugged. “Tea then.”
“Tea for me too,” said Isaiah.
“Tea for two,” said Richard. “How about you, Sheila? Tea for three?”
“I think I’ll hit the shower first. Thank you, though.” She picked up her boots from the floor and headed upstairs.
April and Isaiah had been shooting looks my way. I couldn’t tell if they were wary or merely curious.
Deena cleared her throat, reminding Richard of his manners. “Oh!” he said. “Meet my friends. April, Isaiah, Vince—this is Deena Lee and Sierra Ravenswood.”
“Charmed,” said Vince, shaking our hands in turn. Something in the curl of his lips and the gaze of his deep brown eyes screamed sexy bad boy. It would have been amusing if it weren’t so effective. I caught Deena’s barely raised eyebrows and hid a grin. On second thought, it was still amusing.
“You were at the flower shop yesterday,” said Isaiah, addressing me.
“Yes, that’s right. I own the place.”
“I was hoping to get a better look at the orchid collection. Maybe we’ll stop by tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. I think that would be okay.” I actually wasn’t sure if the police would allow us to open, but maybe I could let them in anyway. I welcomed the opportunity to further observe and question the students. So far, I couldn’t bring myself to launch into the interrogation I’d imagined.
April draped her arm casually over Isaiah’s shoulder. “Always the nerd,” she said playfully. “I love it.”
Richard had left to prepare the drinks. He now returned with a tray of tall, cold glasses, which he set on the coffee table. The students helped themselves and settled in on the sofa.
Deena was snapping pictures of possible bouquet locations, including the fireplace mantel, end table, and coffee table. When her camera faced the students, they mugged for a shot. April, in the middle, rested her arms around the necks of both guys and puckered her lips. Vince made a sideways peace sign, while Isaiah smiled broadly.
“Adorable,” said Richard. Then he patted me on the shoulder. “Come with me. I’ll show you my bedroom.”
One of the boys whistled, and the others laughed. Richard laughed along with them. Deena and I exchanged another look and followed Richard up the stairs.
The second floor featured four bedrooms, two on either side of a central hallway. At the end of the hall was a wood-framed mirror above an antique console table.
“This would be a nice spot for a bouquet,” said Deena, snapping another picture.
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Richard. “Plus a small vase on each bedside table.” He unlocked the door to his room, at the rear of the hallway on the left side. We admired his décor, while he explained that he had three bedrooms to let, a large one the size of his room and two smaller ones. Each bedroom had an en suite bathroom.
“Are the two boys sharing a room?” I asked.
“Yep,” he said. “They’re in the large room across the hall. It has two double beds. April and Sheila each have one of the smaller rooms.”
When we went back downstairs, we found that Vince had disappeared, and April and Isaiah were head-to-head, leaning over a cell phone. I casually walked behind them and took a peek. They seemed to be perusing photos from their hike.
Richard wanted to show Deena and me his garage, which he’d transformed into a game room. He led us to the back door and outside across a brick inlay patio. Before we reached the garage door, I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. So, that’s where Vince went.
“Uh, you two go ahead,” I said. “I’ll join you in a minute.”
“There’s a half bath across from the kitchen, if you need it,” said Richard.
As soon as they went into the garage, I slipped around the corner and found Vince standing on a slope behind the house, gazing toward the mountains.
“Hi,” I said, walking up to him.
He nodded at me in greeting and held out a pack of cigarettes. After a brief hesitation, I reached out and took one from the pack. Smokers always seemed to share an instant bond, didn’t they? It was the perfect excuse to strike up a conversation with someone.
I held the cigarette between two fingers and stared at it. Now what? Was I supposed to ask him for a light? The truth was, I had no idea how to smoke a cigarette.
I started giggling softly. Vince gave me a strange look, which made me laugh harder. Get it together, Sierra! Struggling for composure, I took a deep, ragged breath. Then I sheepishly handed the cigarette back to him.
“I don’t actually smoke,” I said. “Sorry.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. From the flicker in his eye, I could tell he thought I must be either crazy or ditzy. Maybe both.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” I said, trying to sound more normal. After all, he was probably only five years younger than me. We were practically peers. “What happened yesterday was insane. How are you holding up?”
Instead of answering right away, he looked back toward the mountains. Was he trying to decide if he could trust me? I waited him out until he finally sighed.
“Yeah, it was shocking. Obviously. But I’m alright.” He paused to take a drag on his cigarette. “It’s not like this is my first encounter with death.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
He tilted his head in a gesture of acceptance. “That’s life. Life means death. What are you gonna do?”
Huh. So, Vince was a philosopher. I never would have guessed.
“But,” he continued quietly, “it can really mess a person up.”
I wasn’t quite sure what he meant. “Were you close with Professor Lowry?” I asked gently.
He looked at me askance. Was that a weird thing for me to ask? “Not particularly. He was my teacher.”
“Oh, right.” Trying to appear contemplative, I turned to gaze at the mountains too. “I just feel so bad. I’ve been trying to figure out how this could have happened. Do you, uh, have any idea what he was doing in the storeroom at my shop?”
“Not really. I assume he was forced in there, or lured somehow, by the person who hit him.”
“Hmm. Was he acting strange on the drive? I heard he almost caused an accident. The delivery driver, Bart, said the professor was driving erratically.”
Vince finished his cigarette and tossed the butt toward a patch of weeds. “If you ask me, that guy, Bart, seemed unhinged. Maybe he was the one driving erratically.”
Maybe? Didn’t Vince know? Also, he didn’t really answer my question about the professor.
I snapped my fingers, as if I’d had a sudden thought. “Hey, by the way, do you know what became of the professor’s canteen?”
Vince slowly swiveled his head to stare at me. “What?”
“He had a canteen when he came into Flower House, but it wasn’t found in the storeroom or anywhere else in the shop.”
I watched Vince with interest. On the surface, he seemed as cool and smooth as ever—except for the telltale clench of his jaw.
“Someone must have picked it up,” he said. “What’s the big deal?”
“I don’t know. I was just curious, that’s all.”
He moved closer, until he was standing right in front of me. With mouth twitching, he reached out and lightly tugged the ends of my hair flirtatiously—or trying to be. “Relax, cutie. No need to worry. The cops will catch the bad guy, and you can get back to making your pretty flower arrangements.”
Startled, I stepped back an inch and plastered on a smile. “I know they will. I’m not worried.”
Only, I really was. I was worried the truth about Professor Lowry might never come out—especially when the students closest to him apparently wanted to keep it hidden. As casual and playful as this one seemed, there was a hard glint in his eye that told another story.