What You Don't See

A couple of days went by, and Ben recovered well enough to begin making a pest of himself at the hospital. I brought him his sandwich, extra peppers, and he devoured it like a caveman downing a Flintstones brontosaurus burger. While he slept, I popped into Chandler’s room again. I’d done my job: I’d found Eric. But I couldn’t stop turning things over in my head—the Peetses, Dontell, the missing letter, the fact that Chandler was alive and the others weren’t.

There was an IV going and the blinds were drawn when I stepped lightly into her room. A huge floral arrangement sat on the table near the window, its wild, arched fronds sticking out everywhere. The room smelled like a tropical rain forest. I had a good idea who the flowers were from. Chandler was asleep. I was backing out to leave when she opened her eyes.

“Detective Raines?”

I approached. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. How do you feel?”

I glanced at the frond monster. “Someone went all out.”

“Vonda. She’s been so nice.” She caught the look on my face. “She has her good side.”

I doubted it, but okay. “Have you been able to remember anything else?”

“The police keep asking me that, too, but no.”

I glanced at Allen’s flowers and wondered about the ones she’d received. “The flowers Allen got. Do you remember what kind they were?”

Chandler concentrated, fighting against the medication. “I think so . . . The first was a beautiful lotus. Vonda barely looked at it.”

“How about the next one?”

“I can’t remember.”

“That’s okay. Get some rest. We’ll talk again.”

She faded. Her eyes closed. I let myself out, only to turn and see Allen sweeping off the elevator into a crowd of hospital staff clamoring for her autograph. I could not catch a break.

Norman wasn’t with her this time, but there was another Titan Security guy standing close who was almost as big. Allen’s fake smile disappeared the moment she saw me. She headed my way, and I stood waiting for her.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“Visiting. You don’t strike me as the stand-by-the-bedside type.”

“Kaye is a valued employee.”

“Yes. I saw the flowers. Couldn’t find anything bigger?”

She said nothing, but her eyes were communicating loads.

“Maybe when you’re done visiting Chandler, you’ll have time to visit your son in police custody. He’s going to be hard to sweep under the rug, isn’t he?”

The look Allen shot me was as cold as death. She leaned forward, just slightly, and lowered her voice to a chilling whisper. “You’re beginning to be a problem for me.”

“I know, and I’m beginning to worry about your problem-solving skills.”

“I’m going in to see Kaye. Go away.”

She brushed past me and entered Chandler’s room, her guard going with her. I started to walk away, then got a feeling. Allen didn’t like problems. I went back into Chandler’s room to make sure she’d still be breathing when Allen left it.

“A lotus? Nice.” Ben was eating orange Jell-O out of a plastic cup with a plastic spoon too small for his man hands. He was out of the ICU and in a private room and was sitting up in a chair, in a gown, robe, and those saggy hospital socks with nonskid soles. I sat beside him, watching him eat.

“What’s so big about a lotus?”

“I was just thinking about the symbolism.”

I looked at him blankly.

“Flowers have meaning. They’re symbolic.”

Again, a blank stare from me.

“Red roses mean deep, romantic love, right? White roses can mean death. Am I speaking Portuguese?”

We were back to the easy back-and-forth between us. I hadn’t brought up what Carole said about him having feelings for me, and if he was aware of her sharing the information, he wasn’t letting on. That was good. It meant maybe we could slide right by all of it.

“That’s interesting,” I said. “So, you’re the closet gardener. What’s a lotus flower mean?”

He slurped down more Jell-O, swallowed. “It symbolizes estrangement, somebody forgetful of the past.”

“So, somebody thinks Allen forgot something that meant a lot to whoever?”

“Or they just like lotus flowers and went with that,” Ben said.

“Now, that makes me want to know what the other flowers were. If they mean something, too, that might tell us who sent them. Like maybe Deton Peets. Allen sure forgot about him and his son pretty quickly. Dontell Adkins, too. And you could say Allen was estranged from both Hewitt and Sewell. I don’t think she’s gotten another delivery since either of them was killed.”

“Could be something.” Ben finished his Jell-O and three-pointed the empty container into the wastebasket by his bed. He grinned, winked. “Mickerson is back, baby.”

I stood to leave. I wanted to touch base with Tanaka.

“Estrangement’s not so bad. Could have been a lot worse,” Ben said. “It could have been crimson roses.”

“What’s so bad about crimson roses?” I asked, almost certain I didn’t want to know.

“Well, they sure as hell don’t mean I love ya,” Ben said.