No one could give us any answers. We tried talking to festival organizers, marina security guards, and random bystanders, and no one knew what had happened—or what condition Chief Walden was in when they pulled him out of the water. The one promising note we learned was that he was taken away in an ambulance, hooked up to an oxygen tank. At least he wasn’t covered with a sheet.
By this time, the crowds had thinned and the festival felt subdued. It was past lunchtime, so Deena, Calvin, and I made our way to the food vendors to grab some sandwiches. Not that I had much of an appetite, but I knew I’d feel worse later if I skipped a meal. As soon as we settled in at a picnic table, I called my dad. Without going into detail, I told him there’d been a boat accident and the chief was taken away in an ambulance. He said he’d head to the hospital as soon as he could.
When I got off the phone, I noticed I had a missed call and a voice message. I assumed it was Deena or Calvin trying to find me during the commotion earlier. But when I recognized the number, I gasped. The call was from Felix.
“What is it?” asked Deena.
Calvin was eyeing me curiously, so I immediately played it cool. “Oh, it’s nothing. I … thought I saw a spider. False alarm.” I laughed lamely and tossed the phone in my purse. As much as I wanted to talk to Felix, there was no way I’d do it in front of Calvin. The message would have to wait.
Actually, I didn’t want to discuss anything in front of Calvin. I was dying to talk over recent events with Deena—especially Richard’s shady rendezvous and whether or not it could have any connection to the boat explosion. Maybe my imagination was getting carried away again, but I had a hard time believing it was just a coincidence.
I picked at my sandwich and watched people stroll by. Among the remaining revelers was a pack of snickering teenagers, a couple holding hands with an adorable little girl in pigtails, two older women sharing an oversized lemon shake-up, and … Letty Maron. For once she wasn’t wearing a cardigan sweater. Instead she wore a long yellow T-shirt over purple paisley leggings. The schoolteacher noticed me at the same time I spotted her. She walked over to our table.
“Hi, Letty,” I said.
Shooting Calvin a wary glance, she addressed Deena and me. “Hello, ladies. It’s a nice day, isn’t it? I’m surprised there aren’t more people at the festival.”
“There were earlier,” said Deena.
“Didn’t you hear about the accident on the water?” I asked.
“No,” she said, looking concerned. “I just got here a little while ago. What happened?”
“Someone’s boat blew up,” said Calvin. “It was pretty spectacular. And terrible, of course.”
“Chief Walden was hurt,” I said.
“Oh, my. How awful,” said Letty. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It sort of put a damper on the regatta,” said Deena.
“I can imagine,” said Letty. “I just stopped by to support some of my students. They created an interactive exhibit to encourage recycling.”
“I saw that,” said Deena. “They did a really good job.”
Letty smiled proudly. “They worked hard on it.” She started to leave, then paused and turned back. “Oh, Sierra, I ran into Flo Morrison, and she told me about Flower House. Will you be running a clearance sale?”
“What about Flower House? We had a promo that ended yesterday, but it wasn’t really a clearance sale.”
Letty appeared confused. “Flo told me Flower House is going out of business. I just wanted to make sure I visit one more time before you permanently close the doors.”
I narrowed my eyes and glanced at Deena. Her look matched mine. “Flo is mistaken,” I said, through clenched teeth. “Flower House is not going out of business.”
“Oh! Alright. Well, good.” She scurried off, and Deena looked at me expectantly.
Crumpling my sandwich wrapper into a tight ball, I stood up and threw it into a nearby garbage bin, with perhaps a little more force than necessary. It did little to alleviate my anger.
On the drive back to town, Calvin perused the books he’d borrowed from Felix’s cabin, and I stewed about the Morrisons. As if it weren’t bad enough that people were getting hurt, a criminal was running loose, and I was rapidly losing people I could trust. Why did Bill and Flo have to be so nasty? Greed. That was why. Pure greed.
When I pulled in front of the shop, I half expected to find another break-in. Luckily, all was calm and intact. The front of the Victorian appeared normal—though the window display needed attention. I should have created a Mother’s Day display by now.
Deena parked behind me along the curb. With my focus on the window and Calvin’s nose in a book, it was she who noticed the package on the stoop.
“What is that?” she asked. “A return from a dissatisfied customer?”
“What?” I turned sharply. We’d never once had a dissatisfied customer. I couldn’t bear the thought.
“Are those dead flowers?” said Calvin.
I ran up the walkway and crouched down to get a better look. “Close. They’re black roses.”
They were wrapped in plain brown butcher paper and lying on their side. There were six in the bunch. Fully opened, the petals were beginning to wilt and the leaves were slightly crushed. We stared down at the bogus gift, none of us quite sure what to do. Finally, I grasped the edge of the paper and pulled, letting the flowers loosen from one another. There was no note, no ribbon, nothing to indicate where they’d come from.
I looked next door toward Bread n’ Butter. The bakery was open and the Morrisons’ van parked in front. They must have left the festival shortly before we did.
“How many black roses did Valerie receive?” asked Deena.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “But I think it was only one at a time.” Could these be the roses Valerie received? Did she bring these here herself? Or was Flower House the new target of Valerie’s stalker.
I handed Deena my keys, then grabbed up the flowers, paper and all. Once inside, I took the package to the kitchen and dumped it in an empty bucket. My first inclination was to take it to the compost pile, but I resisted. Instead, I found Officer Bradley’s number and gave her a call. She didn’t pick up. Next I tried the main number for the police station, but it too went straight to voice mail. Considering what had happened with the chief, I imagined the whole force was probably busy and distracted.
With nothing else to do, I printed the latest flower orders, heartened that at least there were a few. We spent the rest of the afternoon making bouquets with blooms that needed to be used up. Calvin hovered the whole time.
It was almost five o’clock when Deena announced that she needed to get going. “I still have to pick up groceries for my mom. Seeing Richard in the store parking lot this morning took my day in an unexpected direction.”
“For sure,” I agreed.
Deena offered to make a home delivery on her way—a sweetheart bouquet for a young girl in Deena’s parents’ neighborhood. I walked her out to her car.
With a glance toward Flower House, I spoke in a low voice. “I don’t want Calvin to know I’m on to him.”
She gave me a skeptical look. “I still don’t get it. What exactly are you on to him about?”
“He’s here under false pretenses! I don’t know why, but his whole purpose seems to be locating Felix.”
“Why don’t you just ask him?”
“I’ve tried getting him to talk about himself, but he always changes the subject. I’m telling you, he’s a—”
“Mystery man?” said Deena, raising her eyebrows suggestively. “Very intriguing.”
“I was going to say ‘a phony,’” I said. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
“I’m sorry.” Deena laughed lightly. “Calvin just seems so harmless. I’m more concerned about the black roses. At least you know Calvin didn’t leave those, since he’s been with you all day.”
“True,” I admitted. “I’d really like to tell the cops about the roses. Maybe I’ll try them again.”
But when I went back inside I forgot all about the black roses. Calvin was sitting at Felix’s computer, scrolling around like he owned the place. I opened my mouth, ready to demand answers and/or put a lock on the office door. Before I could utter a word, he swiveled in the chair and flashed me an eager smile.
“I did it! I figured out how to set up flower-order notifications.”
“You mean—like, to an email?” That actually sounded like a great idea.
“Yeah! For the past few days, I kept thinking it was odd that you kept having to check this computer for orders. You should be able to receive orders anywhere.”
“I agree, but how?”
“Like this.” He turned back to the computer and clicked into the store’s website builder, showing me exactly what he did. And, once again, he’d made himself useful. Invaluable, even. Deena was right. It was hard to imagine Calvin as anything other than a friendly, harmless—and slightly enigmatic—guy.
Still … I was going to figure out what he was up to. Of that, I was certain. That is, whenever I could find the time.
“By the way,” said Calvin, “did you know the Flower House website is set up to receive comments?”
“Sure, I guess. Comments and reviews, right? I haven’t looked at it in a while.”
“You should really take a look at it now and then, and clean it up. There are a bunch of spam comments.”
“Dang, that figures.” One more thing to do—reminding me that I still needed to create a flower-shop to-do list. “Feel free to delete ’em yourself, if you’re so inclined.”
“There might be a way to block some of them,” said Calvin, clicking on the web builder again. “Oh, look! Another one just came in.”
I checked my watch, rapidly losing interest as the conversation turned techie. I needed to pick up Gus from Rocky and think about what I wanted to do for supper.
“Huh,” said Calvin, still facing the screen. “This is weird. You have to see this.”
He stood up, giving me the chair, so I obligingly sat down. It didn’t take long for me to understand what he meant. I also felt a sense of déjà vu. There was definitely something familiar in the tone of the message.
Dear Felix,
Your flowers are exquisite, like the rose: a classic beauty with petals of poison and needle-sharp thorns. You thought you could leave, escape your fate, but your house will suffer the consequences of past mistakes. Proverbs 11:21
“This is more than weird,” I said. “It’s creepy and sinister and … potentially significant. Can you pull up the IP address for the computer where this comment came from?”
While he did that, I grabbed my phone and found the photo I’d taken of the comment on the funeral home website. Just as I suspected, it was the same bible verse. The one about punishing the evil man, and something about the descendants of the righteous. Lovely. And as soon as Calvin brought up the I.P. number, I confirmed it had been sent from the same computer too.
I opened a browser on my phone and began typing in the search filter.
“What are you doing?” asked Calvin.
“I’m checking the hours of the Aerieville Public Library. Looks like they’re open until eight o’clock on Saturdays. Perfect. I’m heading there now.”
“Mind if I come along?”
I hesitated, trying to get a read on the helpful man behind the earnest blue eyes. Finally, I sighed. “Sure. Why not?”