The once flourishing garden bed looked like a tiny war zone—skeletonized leaves, wilting branches, and flowers losing petals but still persevering, like a smile with missing teeth. Other flowers lay prostrate on the ground like stricken soldiers.
“It’s an infestation of some sort,” Foster said gravely. He stared at the garden and continued to shake his head. “But I can’t figure it out. I was sure I did everything right.”
Robert gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’m sure you did, but Mother Nature, being a typical woman, is hard to figure out.”
Victoria spoke up. “She’s not that difficult I think—”
Foster hung his head. “It’s awful. All our beautiful babies, dead.”
“Don’t take it so hard. There’s still plenty of time before the contest. We can dig up the most diseased plants and treat the others.”
Victoria tried again. “I don’t think—”
“That will be costly, won’t it?” Foster chewed his lip anxious. “To get a whole new batch? My ideas were kinda big. I knew I shouldn’t have made them so big.”
“Cost is not a factor. You know that I am pleased with the design. You did careful planning. Remember the herb garden for the Sunshine Nursing Center? The residents there were thrilled.”
“I was a man,” he scoffed. “Those old biddies were just happy for the attention.”
“I’m sure they enjoyed the garden as well. Your ideas are not the issue. What’s killing the plants are.”
Victoria cleared her throat. “I think—”
Robert squatted and stared at the damage. “ I’ll take a sample to get analyzed and figure out what the problem is. Once we figure that out we can go from there.” He stood. “Don’t worry, we haven’t been beaten yet.”
“I think I know what you have,” Victoria said in a loud voice.
Robert frowned at her. “Why are you shouting?”
She lowered her voice. “I’m not shouting.”
“Sounded like you were shouting,” Foster said.
She rested her hands on her hips.. “I wasn’t shouting.”
“You’re shouting now,” Robert said.
Foster sighed. “She’s probably upset about the garden.”
“Sure she is, but that doesn’t explain why she was shouting.” He looked at her concerned. “What’s wrong?”
She threw up her hands. “You two are impossible. I’m trying—”
“Impossible? I’ve been called a lot of things, but that’s the first. I’ve always thought we were pretty easygoing guys. And considering our entrance into the competition is dying and I’m not pulling out my hair is a good sign. I don’t...”
And from there he began to speculate what was wrong with the garden. Foster added his gloomy predictions and they both ignored her. Victoria watched them then decided to do something to get their attention.
“Braxton, I really do feel bad about...” Foster’s words trailed off as be stared at Victoria. Robert turned to see what had diverted his attention and nearly choked.
“What are you doing?” he said.
Victoria quickly buttoned up her blouse. “Now that I have your attention, I think you have a plant eating insect.”
“What?” Robert asked a bit dazed, his mind still on what he might have seen if she’d completely unbuttoned her blouse. He wished he hadn’t stopped her.
“I saw a garden that looked like this in Jamaica and my aunt said it was something, but I forgot the name. But it’s this nasty little insect that feasts on anything. We’ll have to get rid of the completely dead plants, bathe the leaves of the ones left, and use a special treatment for the soil. It is a clever insect.”
“I’ve never heard of something like that. Have you?”
Foster shook his head.
“Besides, the bugs in Jamaica are not similar here. I’m sure once I have one of the plants analyzed I’ll find a way to treat them.”
“But I--”
“Thank you, Victoria.” He handed her the headstone. “If you want to finish your striptease act I’ll be happy to watch, but I’ve finished listening.”
She snatched the headstone. “Fine.”
He shoved his hands in his pocket and walked away.
Victoria glared at his back, wishing she could burn a hole through his shirt. “I could like that man if he wasn’t so arrogant.”
“He knows what he’s about,” Foster said, rubbing the back of his neck. “What’s that you’re holding?”
She glanced down at the headstone and held it out for him to see.” It’s for Bailey’s funeral.”
“I didn’t know he was going to have one. He’s been dead a long time.”
“Amanda and I are putting it together. We’re having one Saturday morning after breakfast.”
“Oh.” He bent down and lifted one plant, tearing out its roots. “I’m surprised Braxton is going along with it. He didn’t want any fuss when Bailey died.”
“He doesn’t have much say in the matter. I doubt he’s coming.”
He twirled the plant in front of him then tossed it away. “He was a good dog. Benjamin misses him.”
“You’re welcome to come, if you want.”
Foster lifted the head of a plant with the toe of his boot and nodded his head. “Thanks, perhaps I can bury my hopes as well.”
* * *
Victoria went inside the kitchen to show Dana what she’d purchase, but saw Katherine instead.
“You look bright today,” Katherine said with a slight smile.
Encouraged by the smile, Victoria felt free to share. “I had the most wonderful dessert I’ve ever had. I had a banana split. I’ve never had anything like it in Jamaica.”
Katherine sent her a cool look, though her slight smile remained. “That’s because you were poor, not because you’re Jamaican. I think it best that you rid yourself of this childlike naiveté. Though American’s will find it enduring, it gives a false impression. People will use your experience and apply it to others. You must see yourself as an ambassador and only show your strengths. I am careful to do the same myself for Barbados. Though most people hear a Caribbean accent and think Jamaica since your sort are everywhere.” She glanced at her watch. “I’d better go. Good day.”
“It was,” Victoria muttered, hearing Katherine’s heels click down the hall.
* * *
Clouds the color of dirty cotton stretched across the sky the morning of Bailey’s funeral while a heavy fog settled over the lawn. Victoria wanted to be suitably somber so she pulled back her hair in a tight bun and dressed in a simple black cotton dress.
“This is nonsense,” Janet mumbled to her reflection in the hallway mirror as she pinned on a hat
“You don’t have to come.”
“I know that,” she snapped. “You don’t have fi tell me what I already know. Where’s your shawl? It’s chilly.”
She fetched her shawl and the headstone then they left. They met Amanda at the willow tree. She wore a black lace dress and had two black ribbons on her pigtails. Ben sat beside her with a black bandana around his neck
“Where are the flowers?” she asked.
“I bought a headstone,” Victoria said.
“But we should have flowers. You’re suppose to put flowers on a grave.”
“We’ll do that later.” Victoria held out her hand and took Benjamin’s leash. “Come on. Let’s go.”
The walk to the twig that marked Bailey’s grave had the same disoriented feeling as a dream. Fog covered everything causing the house to disappear into nothing and surround them in gossamer gray. Slowly dark shapes formed in the distance like shadow puppets. As the fog cleared they saw: Foster, Dana, and Dana’s assistant Trish all standing around the spot.
“You all came,” Amanda cried jumping up and down. “This is great.” She saw Foster with a bunch of daffodils. “And you brought flowers.” She gave a happy sigh. “Now everything is perfect.”
“I brought muffins for after,” Dana whispered, as if they were in a cemetery.
“We’ll go to my place afterwards and have tea,” Janet said. “Now let’s get started.”
Victoria was a bit vexed that her aunt was taking charge of something she and Amanda had thought of; however, she decided not to make an issue of it and allowed her to continue.
“I’m glad you could all come and give our friend Bailey a proper send off. He was in pain towards the end and knows that his forced sleep, though sad, was a blessing. Now would anyone like to say a few words?”
One by one they all said a quick word about the beloved dog that had roamed the property and had been a companion to each of them for over seventeen years. In closing, Foster replaced the twig with the headstone, and then there was a moment of silence. Amanda ended the gathering with a poem she had written for Bailey, then they all said their final goodbyes.
“It was a nice funeral,” she sniffed. “I wish Uncle had come. He would have liked it.”
“It might have made him sad.”
Her brows fell together in a frown. “I never thought of him being sad. He didn’t even care when Bailey died.”
“Of course he cared. Everyone shows sadness in different ways.”
“Then why—”
“Enough questions,” Janet said, taking Amanda’s hand. “We’re going to the house to eat and give your mouth something else to do.”
Victoria began to follow the group, but Benjamin wouldn’t move. She tugged on his collar; he refused to budge.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Victoria shouted into the fog where everyone had disappeared. She knelt next to the dog and hugged him. “Poor boy.” She kissed him on the head. “You know what this is, don’t you? But you mustn’t be sad, Bailey didn’t desert you, and hopefully soon your father will come around to know how special you are. Because you are special and we love you just as much.” She felt the dog stiffen as if it wanted to run, but was stopping. itself.
She looked up and saw a silhouette pushing through the heavy mist.
“Aunty, I said I’d be right there...” Her words faded as the silhouette became more distinct. It was clearly too large to be her aunt.
Robert appeared through the fog dressed in a dark suit with a black hat. He took it off when he saw the headstone. He began to kneel next to it, but halted when he noticed her.
“I thought everyone had returned to the house,” he stammered, straightening.
“They did, but I stayed here with Ben. He didn’t want to leave.”
“Oh.” He toyed with the rim of his hat “I just wanted to see what the headstone looked like.”
“You saw it before. You were there when it was made remember?”
“I mean, what it looked like in the ground.”
She wanted to tease him that he hadn’t needed to put on a suit to do so, but he was already embarrassed to see her there so she decided against it.
“I‘d better go.” She stood.
“You don’t have to leave because of me.” He put on his hat ready to go.
“I’m not leaving because of you. I thought maybe...” You’d like time alone, she silently finished, but it was clear he would balk at such a suggestion. “Why don’t we both keep Benjamin company for a while?”
“Okay.” He looked down at the dog. “He misses Bailey.”
“He misses you even more,” she said gently. “Bailey’s dead, but Ben’s still here. Don’t punish him because he wasn’t your favorite.”
“That’s not why I—” He drew his lips in thoughtfully. “Granddad died the day I put Bailey to sleep.”
“I’m sorry.”
He pushed his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels. “Yes, well, so am I.”
She touched his sleeve. “You did the right thing.”
He stared at the ground. “When I came back to the house Benjamin seemed so lost, roaming like a puppy. He’d spend hours waiting in the kitchen, Bailey’s favorite spot, as if he expected him to return. And I couldn’t explain things to him.” He turned away.
“You’re thinking too much.”
He touched his hat in acknowledgment. “Guilty.”
“And you’re not telling me the truth.”
He spun around startled.
“You’re telling me part of it, but not all.”
“Is that right?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Stupid me.” He slapped his forehead. “I spend all my life trying to find the answers and you have them all.”
“I don’t have all the answers. I just know what you feel.”
Dark, dangerous eyes captured hers. “And what do I feel?”
She tugged on her earring. “You don’t want to deal with the pain of burying Benjamin, so you shut your heart to him.”
His anger died. “It’s foolish to love an animal that much,” he said in a rough whisper.
“Why? Bailey loved you more than any other person could. With an unconditional love that humans only have a fleeting understanding. He was with you through everything. Every success, and every error, and he never judged you. He gave you a kind of loyalty that has no definition. He made you feel okay. I love animals for that. I’m always okay with them. I seem to make people nervous.”
“Probably because you see too much. You seem to know everything about me.”
“No I don’t. I don’t understand why you talk more about your grandfather than you do your father.”
He shoved a hand in his pocket and stared at the ground. “For the same reason you don’t talk about yours.”
“You’re ashamed?”
He glanced up. “No. It hurts too much.”
“I know.”
A gentle mist caressed her skin, enveloping her in a dream. In this dream the man before her wasn’t her employer, but an ordinary man. And his eyes were no longer remote, but clear and beautiful and she felt the lingering ache in his heart, the memories that haunted him and something else. She felt an attraction that he tried to tame. An attraction that seemed to ebb and flow between them having no place to settle.
His gaze grew intense. She didn’t remember him moving, but suddenly he was closer and everything else faded away. His lips brushed hers—light, tender, featherlike. But there was nothing light about the wild jolt that shot through her. When he pulled away, she ran her tongue against her lower lip. It still tingled from his kiss. They stared at each other neither daring to move as they stood at the edge of a bridge they dare not cross again.
Victoria lowered her gaze and took a step back; Robert grabbed her and pulled her to him. He kissed her, sending her inside spinning. Who they were didn’t matter. All that mattered was this one delicious moment.
“Victoria!” Janet said. “Are you coming?”
Robert jumped back startled. He swore. Victoria stared at him then began to laugh.
“Victoria!”
She turned to the sound of the voice. “Yes, Aunty. I’m coming.” She looked at Robert again her heart racing and covered her mouth to keep from laughing harder.
Robert scowled. “What’s so funny?”
“You look as though you want to murder someone.”
His voice grew soft, as his eyes raked over her body. “No, not murder.”
Victoria abruptly stopped laughing seeing the smoldering desire in his eyes. She took a step back. “I will leave you two.”
He nodded. “Yes, I suggest you do.” For a moment they didn’t move, then Robert turned his back to her.
She walked away and glanced back only once to see the silhouette of a man kneeling beside his dog. Soon they disappeared into the gray of the morning. She touched her lips still feeling the taste of his. She licked her lips with a bit of unease, as the fog grew denser. She stumbled losing her way. Her chest began to burn as though smoke invaded her lungs, choking her. She felt heat suffocating her and held her hand out feeling disoriented. The smoke became black and thick. She couldn’t breathe.
She fell to the ground, desperate for air. Her hands and knees ached from arthritis and then Victoria knew she sensed an old woman struggling to find a way out of her burning house. The woman called to her dog, knowing he was frightened too, desperate not to lose her best friend. She called again. No response. She grew tired. The soft, wet grass touched her cheek as Victoria waited for the vision to end. It began to fade when a large tongue licked her face, and a damp nose pressed against her forehead.
She grabbed Benjamin’s collar and pulled herself to a sitting position.
Robert knelt beside her and rubbed her back. “You’re going to be okay. Breathe slowly.”
Victoria squeezed her eyes shut. “She’s in the house and she can’t get out. It’s too late, no one can save her.” The image disappeared. The smoke dissipated and became fog again. The spirit of the woman was gone.
Robert helped her to her feet. “Let me take you home.”
“Her dog should have alerted her, but he wasn’t there.” She gripped his arms and looked into his eyes, pleading. “This was real, he killed her. You’ll see.”
* * *
The next day he did see. Robert watched the pathologist transfer the charred body of a seventy-year-old woman onto the stainless steel table. A body of blackened muscles contracted by the heat, smelling like rotten steak. He prepared himself as the pathologist gathered tools to pry open the body. He no longer could deny that Victoria’s vision had been real. Everything she’d seen made sense, except for the arson. This had been another electrical fire; however, the same thing that had bothered Victoria worried him. Nobody heard a dog bark, and no body of a dog had been found. Why did he get the feeling that the dog was the key?
* * *
Grant jangled his keys in his pocket and sighed. He wanted a cigarette. Bad. He hated buildings that didn’t allow smoking. Most didn’t nowadays. You could eat yourself into a coma, drink until your liver shriveled, but you couldn’t burn your lungs every once in a while. Couldn’t they at least have a room? He glanced around the table at Melinda and Carroll as they went over the warehouse case. The paper trail from the owner didn’t lead far.
“So far no one’s claiming the Hope diamond,” Carroll said.
Melinda nodded. “And the lab confirmed that the area was soaked with acetone.”
“And the company close to that area was Techno Technology The owner is Hinda Haddad.”
Melinda started.
Carroll looked at her puzzled. “What’s on your mind?”
“The name sounds familiar.” She tapped the pen against her cheek. “I don’t know why.”
Grant rested his chin in his hand, trying not to picture her pen as a cigarette. “Maybe ‘cause it sounds like a terrorist?”
She glared at him angered by the implication. “That’s not funny. My sister-in-law is Muslim.”
He looked bored. “So is my uncle. So why don’t you relax, woman? I was trying to lighten the mood. Everyone’s so scared they don’t have a sense of humor anymore.”
“Making fun—”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, forget it. You’re beginning to make me feel guilty.” He rested a hand on his chest. “I’m Catholic. Guilt’s a hobby of mine. So is collecting rectory jokes. Want to hear some?”
“Your jokes are as bad as your attitude.”
He straightened. “I think it’s better than your—”
Carroll held up a hand. “Let’s try not to get personal, okay?”
Melinda gritted her teeth. “Well, he—”
Carroll sent her a warning look.
“All right.”
“Now let’s get back to the subject. For Techno Technology, business isn’t good. They’re up to their neck paying off borrowed insurance.”
Melinda raised a brow. “That’s interesting.”
“But not criminal,” Grant said. “They haven’t made an insurance claim yet.”
“We’ll have to pay them a visit and see why not.”
Carroll stood. “You two have to go. I’ve got to pick up something.” He walked to the door, ran a hand through his hair causing it to stick up more then flashed a wicked grin. “Try not to kill each other.”
Grant and Melinda sat and stared at everything in the room but each other then Grant slowly rose to his feet. “We’ll take my car.”
Melinda sighed and reluctantly followed him.
They drove a while in silence. Around them they heard the whirring siren of a police cruiser whizzing past, the loud horn of a passing truck and the roar of a group of motorcycles weaving between cars. Grant finally said, “I’ll do the talking.”
Melinda rolled her eyes. “Am I supposed to just sit there and look pretty?”
“Well, you can sit there. The pretty part is up to you.”
She looked at him amazed. “Don’t you think it’s about time you got used to our presence around here?”
He lowered the window and rested an arm on the doorframe. “I’m used to it and I still don’t like it.”
“We’re on the same side.” She frowned. “You know you should have both hands on the wheel.”
He raised his hands. “ Would you like to teach me how to drive? I might have forgotten while crossing the parking lot.”
Melinda lunged for the steering wheel. “Elliott, stop it!”
He grabbed it and chuckled. “Will you relax? I’ve been driving for a long time. Besides, there’s no one around us.”
“You should always be prepared.”
“I am. That’s why I wear a seatbelt.”
Melinda folded her arms and turned away wondering why good-looking guys were always such jerks. Except for Braxton. There was a man she could understand. A man devoted to his work. Elliot always showed up as though he’d arrived at a party. Unfocused, flippant, ready with a stupid joke and a quick grin that for some reason always made her wonder what other things would put a smile on his face. Not that she allowed herself to entertain that thought long. Elliot didn’t have Braxton’s finesse, his sense of structure, or his background. She related to that. “Braxton doesn’t mind our help,” she said.
“Braxton isn’t me.”
“Yes, he’s more mature.”
He shrugged. “Probably. I’m still doing the talking.”
She let her hands fall to her lap. “Fine. You’re such a big baby.”
Grant only grinned.
Hinda Haddad lived in a house with her niece, Raisa in a nice middle class neighborhood. For a business that was falling apart they lived in a house that a home and garden magazine would place on the cover. Grant knocked on the door.
A small, birdlike woman with streaks of gray in her dark hair opened the door. She looked at them curious. “Yes?”
Grant flashed his badge and introduced himself and Melinda.
She frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“About what?”
“May we come in?” Melinda asked.
Hinda hesitated then moved aside. She led them to the living room. Grant saw a young woman hurry past.
“Who’s that?”
“My niece.”
“We’d like to speak to her also.”
Raisa came into the room with her head down, dark hair hiding her face.
“She’s shy,” Hinda said.
“That’s okay,” he said.
She settled into the couch. “What is this about?”
“It’s about the fire.”
“I don’t know much about the business.”
Melinda and Grant looked at each other perplexed.
Grant said, “But we have your signature on corporation papers and loan checks.”
Hinda shrugged. “I was merely a puppet. My son, Josef and his cousin Basam travel a lot and they tell me and my niece what to do and we do it. They are the clever ones. You must speak to them.”
“We plan to,” Grant said. He asked her some more questions that she politely answered. He soon realized that she was either very devious or ignorant. After Hinda answered another question apologizing for her lack of knowledge, Melinda lost patience. “Ms. Haddad it’s hard for me to believe you know so little about the business when your signatures are on important documents.”
She nodded keeping her voice calm. “Yes, but as I said, we just follow directions.”
“When can we speak to Josef and his cousin?” Grant asked.
“I don’t know. They are away.”
“For business,” the niece added.
Grant tapped his pen against his leg. “How far away?”
Hinda shook her head, looking a bit lost. “I don’t know. They often travel for business.”
“When did they leave?”
Her eyes darted between them then fell. “I don’t know.”
“Please this is important.”
She covered her face and burst into tears. “I don’t know. I don’t know,” she cried. “Please no more questions.”
Raisa held her aunt’s shoulder and said sadly, “They’ve disappeared.”
“When?” Grant asked.
Hinda rocked and cried. Raisa tried to soothe her.
“Was it the night of the fire?” he persisted. “Or early the next day?”
“I don’t know,” Hinda moaned, her hands fell into her lap. “I don’t know.”
“Did you file a missing persons report?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Melinda snapped.
Grant pinched her in warning. “Is there a reason you didn’t?”
“Because I know he will return. He will contact me when he has the chance.”
Grant and Melinda left the house in frustration. In the car, Grant grabbed a cigarette. “Mind if I smoke?”
Melinda rested her head back and briefly shut her eyes. “No.”
He rolled down the window, lit the cigarette and inhaled. “Well, that was a bust.”
“Completely.” She placed a hand on her forehead, fighting an oncoming headache.
“Why haven’t they made that nice little insurance claim?”
“You’d think they’d be panting for a check like the other companies.” She sat up. “I guess they’re playing it cool.”
Grant shot her a glance. “You weren’t.”
“I know.” Melinda sighed with regret. “She was so polite and apologetic it drove me crazy. What happened to the woman’s movement?”
“It missed her country.”
“No, it’s probably just me. I get too involved sometime. Especially times like this. I wanted some answers.”
“Me too.”
“We won’t get anything more until they show up.”
He stubbed out the cigarette and reached for another.
She frowned. “I’ve never seen a guy go through a cigarette so fast.”
“I’m frustrated, okay?”
“You’re also wasting money. You should try to make your cigarettes last. The best way is not to smoke them. What did you say?”
“Nothing you’d want to hear.” He lit his cigarette. “Don’t give me a lecture. I’m not in the mood.” He took a long drag. “They’re both gone. This was our last lead.”
“Maybe one is dead and the other is in hiding.”
“Or the fire wasn’t about insurance, but cocaine.”
“Or they’re innocent and we’re making something out of nothing.”
“We’ve run into a brick wall.” He fell silent. She looked so disappointed he wanted a way to cheer her up. “How would you like a drink?”
“Who’s buying?”
He tapped his ashes. “A gentleman always buy.”
“I know, but I’m asking you.”
It was her tone rather than her words that made Grant pause with the cigarette to his mouth. Was she teasing him?
A smile tugged on her mouth. “Watch the road.”
He moved his gaze from her face. “I am watching the road.”
“You weren’t before.”
“I was distracted.”
“Do you distract easily?”
“Not always.”
She turned away. “So are you buying the drinks?”
“Yes, I’m buying.” He stubbed out his cigarette, trying to sound casual. “I may even include dinner if you’re nice.”
She grinned. “What do I get if I’m not?”
Yes, she was definitely teasing him and he liked it. He sent her a sly glance. “I’ll think of something.”