I yawned as I was counting the money prior to opening the doors at Petal Pushers the next day. After Cooper had finished the yardwork and I got back from visiting Dale’s, we went out to the farmhouse to get some more painting done. Not only was I tired, but since I was not used to the physical exertion, I had woken up sore. However, it would be worth it once we got everything done, and Willie had helped make the process that much quicker.
"You look like you need more coffee," Wendy said as she walked in the front door.
“Oh, I could definitely use some. You can go ahead and leave that open; it's only a few minutes to open anyway," I said, as Wendy had turned around to lock the door behind her.
“I'm going in the back to make me some. Do you want me to make you another cup?"
"That would be awesome. I'm finishing up here with the till and then I will get started on pulling orders that came in last night."
"Sounds good," she said, walking through the door to the back.
I closed the till and went to the computer, going to the program that had a list of all the orders that had come in the night before. There were only three, which was about normal for Monday. The orders increased as the week went on, with, obviously, Saturday being the biggest day. I got to work pulling the flowers that I needed for those orders when Wendy came back with a steaming cup of coffee. I took it from her gratefully, inhaling deeply.
“This smells so good. Sometimes I think it's just the smell that does it for me."
"Yeah, I feel that way sometimes too. So, where should we start?"
"I've almost got the orders finished. There were only three plus ours for the festival. If you want to be a huge help and look at these plans for the arrangements for the Fall Harvest Festival and see where you think the biggest challenge is going to be, that would be great," I said, handing her Susan's plans.
“Sounds good to me," Wendy said, and took them out of my hand. She looked them over for a second while I was busying myself with the orders and, finally, she looked up at me.
"Wow, these are beautiful.”
“They are, but I’m worried about putting them together. My flower arranging talents aren’t at that level,” I said, chewing on my thumbnail.
“Susan does have a lot of little custom elements in her design."
"That's the part that makes me nervous. I'm not bad at putting together straightforward designs, but not so good at all of those little extras."
"No worries, Cynthia and I can help you on those."
As business picked up, Wendy and I busied ourselves working on our individual tasks while helping customers. It was in the middle of a little rush when the phone rang.
"Thank you for calling Petal Pushers. This is Presley. How can I help you?"
There was silence on the line, but I could hear someone breathing.
"Hello. Is anyone there?"
"If you know what's good for you, you will stop snooping into what happened to Susan Merriweather."
"Who is this?" I said, more sternly and apparently a little loud, because Wendy swiveled her head from where she was helping a customer and looked at me her eyebrows knitted in concern.
"It doesn't matter who this is. Just understand that I'm telling you it is in your best interest to leave this alone."
"Is this Josie MacArthur? Because if you're trying to scare me just so you can win the Fall Harvest Festival contest, then you are barking up the wrong tree. I can't be intimidated," I said, feeling my voice rise. I didn’t know who the heck this person thought she was, but I wasn’t going to be pushed around.
"You just need to listen. Susan's death is not your concern. So, stay out of it," the person said and hung up before I had a chance to say anything else.
Wendy finished with her customer and come over to me as I was standing there, almost in shock of what had just happened, the phone still in my hand.
"Who was that?"
"I have no idea. Someone who was warning me away from investigating Susan's murder."
"Who would do that?" she exclaimed.
"I have no idea. I think it was a woman’s voice, but it was very muffled, like there was something over the mouthpiece, so I couldn’t completely tell. It could have been a man with a high-pitched voice, I suppose," I said. "But I'm definitely going to report this." I immediately dialed Sheriff Blackford's number.
It didn't take long for Sheriff Blackford to make it to Petal Pushers. He walked in and I motioned for him to follow me to the back room. We got back there, and he looked at me with his expressionless face I knew oh-too-well.
"Tell me everything that happened," he finally spoke in his firm tone.
I went through everything from when I got in this morning, telling him how normal of a day it had been until I got a call from someone—who I thought was a woman, but I was not entirely sure it was—warning me not be nosing into the investigation on Susan's death.
"And this is exactly the reason why civilians should stay out of matters like this."
"You asked for my help."
"I did not ask for your help. I asked you to keep your ears open. That's a huge difference. You’ve not just been listening. You’ve been asking questions and now you have someone who clearly doesn't want you involved in this, and they are willing to threaten you over it. So, who have you been harassing?" Sheriff Blackford said, crossing his arms.
I was the one who had called him to report what had happened. Why did I now feel like I was the one in trouble?
“I haven't been harassing anyone," I protested.
"Let me rephrase it in a different way. Is there anyone that you talked to just in the normal course of a day who could possibly have taken some kind of offense at something you said?"
I sensed a tad of sarcasm in his voice. "Well, I did ask Dale yesterday why he increased the life insurance on Susan by three quarters of a million dollars before she died. But it was a female who called me, I’m pretty sure. Even had it been a male, I would have recognized Dale’s voice.”
"He could easily have a female friend who could have called on his behalf," he said in the stern tone of his I really disliked. Especially when I knew he had a point.
"When I was out at the Adams Creek Farm, Jenni told me that she felt a lot of people might be gunning for Susan to get the first-place spot at the flower arranging contest. And then Scott came in to find me in the event space, and he seemed a little perturbed that I was there. It wasn’t the voice of anyone I know.” He’d already said anyone could have called, and he was right. I supposed I just wanted to make my point again.
"Let this be a warning for you to stay out of things, and in the meantime can I have your permission to tap your phone in case you get any more calls?"
"Of course. Whatever you need. I thought you wanted me to keep my ears open."
"Not anymore. Someone doesn't like that you been poking around, and if you're not careful, you could be the next victim. And I certainly don't want to explain that to our mayor."
He did have a point. Who knew I was poking around and felt threatened I might find something out that pointed to Susan's killer? Was that who had called? The killer?