I was in the back room of Petal Pushers the next morning and had just finished placing a flower order. I had some time before the store opened, and even though I should probably use the time to organize everything we were going to need later to start putting together our flower arrangements for the contest, I wanted to spend a few minutes looking up Josie MacArthur. My curiosity about her was getting the best of me. I still didn’t understand why someone of her caliber cared about entering a contest here in Hunter's Hollow. I could kind of understand if it was a just-for-fun thing, but her wanting extra table space and coming into the shop the other day made me think it was more serious. And that didn’t make sense.
I went to trusted Google and entered her name along with Chicago, since I knew that was the area she was from. What popped up was about what I expected. Positive press about her flower shop Purple Posies in a couple of articles that looked to be interviews about her awards for being such a good bridal bouquet designer. I got to the bottom of the first page of Google when something caught my eye. The article said, “Fellow contestant claims Josie MacArthur is a fraud.” Now that caught my eye.
I clicked on the article, which was from the spring, and scanned it quickly. It looked like someone was accusing Josie of not creating her actual floral designs, saying she was a fraud. That was quite an accusation for someone to make. Why would Josie do that, and if she was, how did someone find out? The article said someone by the name of Tonya Herron had brought forward these allegations and they were currently being investigated by the National Association of Flower Arranging.
Interesting, I thought, and wrote the name Tonya Herron down on a Post-it. I looked at the clock and saw it was almost nine, which meant it was time to open, but more importantly, I wondered if my mom was up yet. It was nine o’clock here, so it was almost seven o’clock on the west coast. Knowing my mother and her early rising habits hadn’t changed just because she was retired and traveling, I decided I would send her a quick text asking if she was awake.
Just a few seconds later she texted back. “Just sitting here on the patio of our Airbnb having coffee.”
I called her as I walked up to the front to open the door. We didn’t usually have people walking in first thing in the morning, so I figured I had a couple of minutes to chat.
“Are you not working this morning?” she said as she answered the phone instead of hello, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. She would go to her grave worrying about the shop.
“I’m here. I’m walking up to the front to unlock the door, but I figured I could talk to you for a second before the crowds of customers flocked in.”
“How has business been?”
“It’s been good. Busy with people wanting fall flowers. We're beating last year’s numbers by a little, and I actually negotiated a small discount from one of our suppliers so our profit margin will be a little higher on the basics like baby’s breath and Gerber daisies.”
“How did you manage that?” she said, actually sounding impressed.
“I’m a good negotiator,” I said proudly, and I was.
I had learned the hard way when I first bought Silk, the boutique I used to own in Chicago. When I had acquired it, the profitability was going down the tubes and a lot of wholesalers didn’t want to work with me because of the previous owner not paying bills in the past. But I learned how to grovel when appropriate and how to play hardball. Considering Petal Pushers had never not paid a bill in the history of the business, and we did a consistent business, it hadn’t been that hard to negotiate.
“Good job, honey. I'm proud of you.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Even as a grown adult, it was nice to get a compliment from your mom.
“Thanks, but I didn’t call to talk to you about that. I had a question. What is your opinion on the National Association of Flower Arranging?”
“A necessary evil.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It just means any industry has to have a governing body of some sort. People don’t always agree with the governing body, but it’s necessary to keep order and keep things fair and equitable.”
“That makes sense. Have you ever heard of someone by the name of Tonya Herron?”
“No, that name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“What about any scuttlebutt on Josie MacArthur not designing her own arrangements?”
“Presley Sands! What is going on? Why are you asking me all these questions?”
I gave her a brief rundown on what had happened the last couple of days and the article I had just seen on Google. After I finished talking, there was silence on the phone.
“Mom, are you still there?”
“I’m still here. I was just thinking for a second. Yes, dear, I would like another cup of coffee,” I heard her say.
“Tell Dad I said hi,” I said, assuming that was whom she was probably asking for coffee.
“He said hi back and that he misses you and can’t wait to see you.”
“Ditto. We all miss you guys.”
“Now about this Josie MacArthur stuff. I have no idea who Tonya Herron is, but I can tell you I have heard rumors over the last couple years about Josie MacArthur’s arrangements possibly not being original.”
“What are the general contest requirements in the professional contests she enters? I mean, the Hunter's Hollow Fall Festival contest judging requirements don’t say anything about originality.”
“Well, it is one of the criteria for judging, but at the Fall Festival it’s in the context of this new fresh design. It doesn’t mean it has to be your own original design. However, at the professional level, originality means original work of the person entering. So technically, Josie would be disqualified if it were found that she didn’t personally design the bouquets that she put together.”
“I didn’t realize the flower arranging contest world was so cutthroat.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“What do you think? Do you think Josie was having someone else design her winning floral arrangements?”
“I hate to think ill of anyone, and I like Josie. I’ve never had an issue with her. But she is awfully young, and she didn’t have any formal training. It usually takes years to become as skilled as she is. I’m not saying she’s not some kind of floral arranging prodigy, I’m just saying it wouldn’t completely shock me if she has some help on the design side.”
“Why do you think she would come here to this small-town festival and try to throw her weight around?” I said, telling her of Scott wanting to know if I was going to drop out because Josie wanted another one of the table spaces, and how she came into Petal Pushers.
“I know you think of Hunter's Hollow as a small little town, which we are, but Susan and I worked hard to put this Fall Harvest Festival contest on the map.”
“But still, she’s used to these big contests. Why come here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you should ask her.”
I started to change subjects and ask her about her current trip when the door opened. I looked up to see it was Nikki walking in, and she didn’t look happy.
“Listen, Mom, a customer just came in. I need to go. I’ll text you the information for Susan’s funeral.” I knew if I said customer, she would let me go without hesitation.
“All right. Love you, honey,” she said and hung up without even waiting for me to respond. That was my mom—business first.
“Hey, Nikki. What brings you in today?” I said in a jovial tone as she reached the counter.
“I figured since you bothered me at my workplace, I could do the same to you,” she snapped.
“Okay. How can I help you?” I asked, not dropping the smile from my face. As angry as she looked, I figured I would try the old ‘kill them with kindness’ and see what happened.
“You can leave me and Joyce alone. We had nothing to do with Susan’s death. If I have to, I will file a restraining order against you.”
I held up my hands. “No need to go there, Nikki. I’m just trying to find out what happened to Susan.”
“You don’t need to worry about me and Joyce. We had nothing to do with her death. Even though if we had, she would have deserved it,” she bit off.
“I’m just trying to find out what happened. Honestly, I don’t think Joyce—or you—had anything to do with it. Joyce willingly gave me her alibi,” I said a little suggestively.
Nikki snorted. “Is that what you want for me? My alibi? Well, I’ll give you one. I was with Susan’s husband.”
“Dale?” I said with surprise, especially since Joyce had said she was with Nikki.
“Yes, Dale. And before you think anything creepy, he was actually apologizing for Susan’s behavior.”
I wasn’t thinking anything creepy, but the last thing I would’ve expected was for Dale to be apologizing on his wife’s behalf. Especially when he had told me that Nikki was one of the people who had it in for Susan.
“Why now, when this all happened a couple months ago? And I thought you were with Joyce, driving to drop off her kids.”
“I was with Joyce. When I got home, Dale came over. He said wanted to apologize for what Susan did. Now leave me and Joyce alone. I’m serious about that restraining order.” Nikki didn’t wait for an answer and strode out of the flower shop, garnering a strange look from a woman coming in.
“Good morning. Can I help you with something?” I said to the customer.
“Just looking for a pretty arrangement to put in my foyer. I’m really feeling the fall look right now.”
“That entire case over there are arrangements we’ve already made up that are for sale. The shelf they’re on will have a price. I’ll give you a minute to look but let me know if you have any questions, or I can always make up something custom if you don’t see anything there you like.”
The woman nodded and headed over to the case while I thought for a second about what Nikki had said. Were she and Joyce not together? Did that eliminate Joyce’s alibi? If Dale had actually supported his wife, but had been afraid to say something, maybe there were problems in their marriage. If there were problems, were they big enough to kill over?