Deena and I wasted no time. As soon as we agreed we’d hit on our best course of action, we hurried to Flower House to talk to Calvin. He was a bit dubious at first, understandably. But it didn’t take much convincing to bring him around. As we explained, Deena and I would make special “thank you” bouquets for the Morrisons, Letty, Valerie, and Richard—ostensibly thanking them for their support of Flower House during this challenging time. Calvin would deliver the bouquets, giving him the perfect opportunity to drop the deets about the “fanciful notion that had taken hold of my boss, Sierra.”
“Do I have to say ‘fanciful notion’?” asked Calvin.
“No,” I said. “You need to be as natural as possible.”
“Try to come off as amused, but curious,” advised Deena. “Like you’re wondering if everyone in Aerieville is as superstitious as Sierra.”
“Got it.” Calvin grabbed a potted orchid from a shelf and held it in front of him, while affecting a casual, innocent pose. “Hey, you’ll never believe what Sierra’s going to do tonight. Tell me if you think this is normal.” Then he grinned at us. “How was that?”
“Terrific,” said Deena, clapping her hands together.
“Yeah, terrific,” I said, with less enthusiasm. I wasn’t sure what bothered me more: the fact that it was so easy for him to lie—or the thought that he might really believe I wasn’t quite normal.
Not now, Sierra, I told myself. I needed to focus on the mission at hand. I’d worry about Calvin and his secrets later.
The next day we reconvened at Flower House to set our plans in motion. Deena and I made the thank-you bouquets—cheerful arrangements with pink and peach roses, bright orange lilies, and green poms. Then Calvin headed out to make the deliveries, starting with Bread n’ Butter. We watched through the window, on pins and needles, until he emerged from the bakery. When he finally came out, he glanced our way and flashed a thumbs-up before getting into his car for the next delivery. One down, three to go.
Calvin’s next stop was going to be the bank, in the hopes that Richard would be back at work. As he reported by phone, Richard wasn’t there—but the branch manager didn’t mind sharing his home address.
“Why didn’t we think of asking for Richard’s address?” Deena asked.
“It’s just as well,” I said. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to confront him about Abe anyway.”
Calvin told me his next stop would be Light Steps Dance Studio, followed by the school where Letty taught. He planned on intercepting the teacher as she left the building at the end of the school day.
In the meantime, Deena, Gus, and I took a brief excursion to the cemetery. I wanted to find Abe’s grave and scope out a good hiding place. I also wanted to get a head start on the digging part of the plan, so I brought along a shovel and a small rose bush. With Deena playing lookout while holding onto Gus’s leash, I dug a largish hole and planted the roses loosely, thus making my job easier that night—hopefully.
We decided to go on home after that and try to get some rest. Deena said she’d come to my house at eleven, and we’d proceed in one car from there.
Of course, it was difficult to rest. I was too keyed up. Every time I tried to nap or meditate, my mind would roil with a jillion different scenarios for how the night might go—each more distressing than the last. Finally, I decided to expend my excess of energy by doing housework. I scrubbed my sinks, mopped the floor, polished the furniture, and folded laundry. The dollhouse had never been so clean.
At dinnertime, I made myself a loaded baked potato smothered in cheese and chives. After eating, I selected another potato, the largest Idaho in my pantry. With a sharp knife, I sliced it in half and cut a hollow in the center. Then I took the handkerchief I’d snagged from Abe’s house, folded it real small, and placed it in the hollow. I set the other half of the potato back in place, pinned it shut with toothpicks, then slipped the whole thing in a plastic bag and put it in my purse.
“This is for you, Granny Mae.”
At around eleven thirty, Deena and I took our places in Aerieville’s lone graveyard, a sprawling, tree-dotted acreage abutting a Christmas tree farm on the edge of town. I’d dropped Deena at the tree farm, then proceeded to the church parking lot next to the cemetery, where I left my car—in clear view of anyone who might be watching. My plan was to bury the potato, return to my car, then drive around the block and join Deena in her hiding place among the trees.
Now, as I walked along the narrow asphalt road that wound through the cemetery, I was struck by how pitch dark it was. Clouds blotted out the stars and the moon, and the cemetery had no street lamps. That made sense, I realized, since no one was supposed to be here at night. I was lucky the gate was easy to hop. I just hoped my luck would continue, and I wouldn’t get caught.
As I neared the plot where Abe was buried, I left the road and picked my way through the grass, trying not to bump into any tombstones. The air felt damp and cool. Every little sound seemed amplified in the silence: the squish of earth beneath my boots, the rustle and chitter of nocturnal creatures moving about in the darkness. A twig cracked somewhere behind me.
My heartbeat quickened, and I began to second-guess the entire plan. We had formulated it so quickly. Maybe we should have slept on it before taking action. For one thing, why was I alone right now? There was no reason why I couldn’t have had Deena at my side for this part of the show.
I slipped my hand into the purse slung over my shoulder and curled my fingers around my phone. I hadn’t wanted to use a light more than necessary, for fear of attracting attention and being arrested for trespassing. But that fear was quickly being overtaken by more primal fears: of the darkness, of boogeymen … of killers.
Another stick cracked in the stillness, and I sensed a motion out of the corner of my eye. Suppressing a shriek, I spun around and found myself face-to-face with a dark-clad figure. He clicked on a flashlight and held it under his chin—revealing the shadowy, grinning face of Calvin.
“Boo!” he said quietly.
I punched him in the arm.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed. “You scared me half to death.” I glanced toward the thicket where I’d left Deena and wondered if she was seeing this.
“I didn’t want to miss the fun,” he said. “I thought you were gonna come by the shop first. When I realized you weren’t, I had to drive here myself.”
“Hold your flashlight down,” I grumbled, moving on to find Abe’s grave. I was irritated that he’d snuck up on me, but not too mad. In truth, I was grateful not to be alone.
“Here it is,” I whispered a moment later. “Can you shine your light for me?”
“At your service,” he said.
I pulled on a pair of gardening gloves, kneeled down, and removed the rose bush. Then I took the potato from my purse and out of the plastic bag and placed it in the hole.
“What is that?” asked Calvin.
“I can’t tell you, remember?” I said. “Bad luck.”
Before he could respond, I set the rose bush back in place (making a mental note to come back tomorrow and plant it properly), then stood up. “Let’s go,” I said, taking off for the entrance.
A short time later, Calvin and I climbed into my car, took a short drive, and parked again on a side street. Moving quickly, we slunk into a patch of trees on the property bordering the cemetery. We found Deena dancing in place in our designated hiding spot.
“Finally!” she said softly. Then, “Calvin?”
“The one and only,” he said, with a little bow.
“You didn’t see him jump out at me?” I asked.
She looked sheepish. “Sorry. I guess I was watching my own back.” She darted a wary eye toward the darkness behind her.
“Never mind,” I said. “I guess there’s safety in numbers, right?”
She started to say something else, but I held up my hand in warning and pointed. I’d spotted a pinprick of light bobbing in the cemetery. It appeared our prey was falling for the bait.
The light winked like a firefly as a person drew near Abe’s grave, then stopped and crouched down. That was when I realized we had a problem.
“Who is it?” Deena whispered in my ear.
“I can’t tell. It’s too dark, and we’re too far away.”
The clock was ticking on our one chance to unmask the villain—so to speak. If I didn’t make a move now, this whole endeavor would be for nothing.
“I’m going in,” I said. There was no time to hesitate. Creeping into the cemetery, I darted to a nearby statue and hid for a second, then ran to take cover behind a large tree. I moved from one hiding place to another, like some kind of cartoon character. I had to bite my lip to keep from giggling out of sheer nervousness.
At last, I was close enough to see the person straighten up and stare at an object in their hand—the toothpick-pinned potato. Then he spoke, and I knew who it was.
“What is this? This isn’t the bank statement.”
It was Richard. And he seemed annoyed, more than anything. He tossed the potato back into the hole and brushed his hands together in disgust. With a huff, he stalked off in the direction from which he’d come.
I remained in my hiding place until I saw two shadows materialize from the edge of the cemetery. Deena and Calvin were heading my way.
At the same time, I heard a noise from the opposite direction. Turning, I thought I saw another shadow flit among the graves, then disappear.
Deena ran up to me, her flashlight bright in the blackness. “Who was it?” she asked breathlessly.
“Richard,” I said.
“Oh no,” she groaned. “I was hoping it wouldn’t be him.”
“Me too,” I said. “Me too.”