Authors: Gin Jones
A Dawn of Death (29 page)
He grinned and pulled her to her feet, casually saving her from having to admit that she needed the help. "Lucky for me, then, that you're independently wealthy."
"Don't get too cocky," she said. "Medical treatment is expensive, and I could require a lot of it over the coming years. I'm pretty sure my remission has ended, and I'm going to be spending far too much time with doctors, nurses, and phlebotomists over the next few months. What if I bankrupt myself on new drugs and experimental therapies? It could happen, and then I'd be a financial drain on you."
Tate pulled her close again, which allowed her to lean on him without making her look feeble. "For you, I'd even go back to earning a living as a lawyer."
By the end of May, the garden was starting to look like Helen had pictured when she'd first decided to take up her new hobby. Just yesterday, she'd managed to finish filling her own plot with a variety of plants, including some catnip for Vicky, although the only nip the cat seemed interested in was the verb, not the herb. Helen had even managed to find a
camellia sinensis
plant, the source of tea leaves.
Unfortunately, Helen hadn't been able to work in her plot as much as she would have liked since her remission had definitely ended. Rebecca thought that almost being hit by RJ's SUV had been the trigger for the latest flare. Still, Helen had managed to spend a few minutes in the garden every day. She'd had some help with the heavier work, but she thought the other gentler activities were good for her. She was still hoping for some physical improvement before she had to go to Boston for the next round of blood work and medical consultations in a few weeks.
The heartier and more experienced gardeners were already reaping some rewards from their labor. Paul Young had harvested a few radishes and greens and shared them with her. Dale kept an eye out for Helen too, sharing gardening advice in between trying to enlist Helen into her latest crusade—creating dedicated bike lanes throughout the center of Wharton. These days, Dale's laundry line contained shirts with images of bicycles and slogans championing the environmental benefits of pedal power. That didn't keep her from enjoying her Harley, though. She'd even tried to convince Helen to ditch Jack and the Subaru in favor of a motorcycle.
No matter the status of her health, Helen wasn't planning to take up either type of biking—motorized or not—but she was starting to think about adding some new activities that would supplement the light gardening workouts. Betty and Josie were big fans of a new fitness instructor who volunteered at the nursing home occasionally and was opening his own studio soon. Helen had met Kolya Zubov and liked him. She just needed to get her doctor's permission before signing up.
Today was the first day since the encounter with RJ that Helen hadn't at least visited the garden. At first, she'd had to force herself to go, just to make sure the bad memory wouldn't taint her new hobby. She hadn't been afraid of running into RJ; he was safely tucked away in jail awaiting trial. She felt a little sorry for him and even more so for his father. The senior Avery was living at Wharton Meadows where the proximity to his beloved garden was a mixed blessing. Apparently, he liked being able to sit and watch the activity there from his window, but it was also a constant temptation for him to try to leave the facility and go over to the garden, which he wasn't allowed to do very often.
Helen hadn't let the bad memories stop her for long, and now her daily visits to the garden were a habit much like her lunches with Tate.
Today marked another first too—the first time Laura had left her new baby, Howie Jr., alone with her husband for more than an hour. Helen hadn't seen her first grandnephew yet in person, but her computer's hard drive was rapidly filling with so many pictures and videos that it was hard to believe Laura had time away from her camera to do any actual mothering. Helen would have the chance to see the baby in person in a few weeks since her recent end to the lupus symptoms' remission meant that she needed to spend some time in Boston undergoing tests and consulting with doctors to adjust her medications. In between appointments, she'd be getting to know Howie Jr.
Helen wasn't sure if Laura would have ventured out this soon if she hadn't known that there was a large box waiting for her at the cottage from Betty and Josie. It was covered in baby shower paper and filled almost to bursting with the layette items they'd made.
Helen chatted with Tate and his nephew on the cottage's back deck, sipping tea with mint from the garden and watching for her nieces to arrive. When they finally came up the gravel driveway and parked next to Adam's and Tate's cars, Adam raced over to help Lily carry the coolers filled with today's brunch supplies.
Jack was out in the driveway too, along with his niece and nephew, unloading a crate from the back of his pickup. Jay and Zee had helped Helen with some of the heavier work in the garden but had never managed to remember the gift they'd found for her in California. They'd said they were saving it for just the right moment, and apparently, that was today.
Lily and Laura arrived at the deck, preceding Adam, who was laden down with the coolers.
"I'm so sorry, Aunt Helen," Laura said. "I know I've said it before, but I can't say it enough. I really thought I could trust Howie to let you know when I went into labor."
Lily shook her head. "I can't imagine why. Howie is brilliant when it comes to his work, but at home, he's helpless. I should never have let you convince me that I'd be too busy and then too exhausted from coaching you, so we could leave the notifications to Howie."
Laura sighed. "I didn't think even he could be this bad. He managed to find the box I left for him with emergency supplies like spare keys, snacks, and clean underwear. The only thing he didn't find was the instructions for who should be texted about the delivery. I even keyed them into his phone."
"Howie managed to let his own family and friends know," Lily said.
"Just not mine," Laura said with another soft sigh. "I learned my lesson, though. Next time, I'll make sure someone else sends the messages. Even the teenaged Daddy's helper who's with him today would be more reliable than Howie. But I'd better go check on them."
Laura went into the house to make the call in private, leaving Lily to glare at Adam. "If you ever do anything that boneheaded, I'm not going to be as forgiving as Laura is."
"Hey." Adam dropped the coolers and raised his hands in a defensive motion. "Don't blame me for stuff I haven't even done yet."
Lily might have said something more, except that Jack called out from the deck stairs, "Make way. Heavy item coming through."
Lily stepped out of the way, and the three Clarys maneuvered their burden into the center of the deck. The item had been removed from the crate and now was draped with a drop cloth as a makeshift version of what an art gallery would use to cover a new acquisition until its unveiling.
"You've got to understand, Ms. Bee," said Zee. "We didn't know you'd found a body in the garden when we got it. We just thought this was an amazing way to combine your old hobby of investigating deaths with your new hobby of gardening."
Her brother added, "We thought you needed something to make your garden plot as unique as you are."
"You don't need to butter me up," Helen said. "Just show me what it is."
Jay and Zee both glanced at their uncle, obviously seeking reassurance. He nodded, and Jay took one corner of the drop cloth while Zee took the other.
It was a birdbath. Heavy and expensive-looking, made out of marble instead of the usual concrete. Around the rim was a carved design that Helen couldn't quite make out from across the deck, other than to get the impression that it was extremely detailed.
And then she looked down the pedestal to where it touched the wood of the deck. Extending out from the standard round base was a skull and a skeletal arm that appeared to be digging itself out from a shallow grave beneath the birdbath.
Helen stood and went over to peer more closely at the decorative carving on the basin itself. Skulls. A whole row of them, each one as different in size or shape as real ones, ran all the way around the rim.
"When we got it, we didn't know a real person had died," Zee reminded Helen.
"And it probably can't go in the community garden now," Jay said. "But it's really quite an amazing work of art. We tried to find out who made it or what movie it was for, but no one knew."
Tate spoke up. "Someday it will undoubtedly feature in a biopic about Helen."
"You think?" Jay said, his eyes lighting up. "And we'll get a credit in the film for finding it, right?"
"You'd have to ask Helen," Tate said.
Everyone turned to her. The birdbath really was an amazing work of art, and Jay and Zee, like almost everyone else in Helen's life, had meant well. Still, it would be cruel to place it anywhere near where Sheryl had died, and even Helen wasn't sufficiently uncaring of what people thought of her to install it in the community garden. Fortunately, her cottage was a private sanctuary, with only her closest friends and family invited here.
"I doubt anyone will ever make a movie about my life," Helen said, "but my cat would love to be an internet video star. If we put the birdbath where she can see it from inside the cottage, it can be in the background of Vicky's videos."
Jay and Zee whooped in relief and excitement.
"We can make that happen," Jay said.
"See?" Zee told her brother. "I told you we'd find a way to join the entertainment industry."
They wandered off, muttering about technical things that Helen didn't understand while Lily commandeered Jack and Adam to bring one of the coolers inside and help with preparing brunch. Helen had a bad feeling that kale smoothies would once again be an integral part of the menu.
Tate joined Helen in a closer examination of the birdbath. "You know that Jay and Zee are going to be here every minute they're not working, trying to get the perfect footage of Vicky."
Helen nodded. "How else do you think I could find willing pet sitters for her while I'm in Boston for medical tests and consultations?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You mean you weren't planning to ask me? I thought that was the sort of thing that was expected of someone in a committed relationship."
A lot of things were expected of people in a committed relationship, but as far as Helen could tell from the limited number of them that she'd been in, the list varied from person to person. She'd never had a pet during her marriage, but if she had, it never would have crossed Frank's mind that he might be asked to take care of the animal while she was gone.
"I wouldn't want to tear you away from your woodworking studio," Helen said lightly, although she was pleased that he'd even considered it. "I'm pretty sure that Vicky's well-being isn't as important to you as keeping your lathe in good working order."
"You're partially right," Tate said. "Vicky's well-being isn't particularly important to me. But yours is. I'd give up a few hours in the workshop if it would give you peace of mind."
But would he give up more than a few hours of his workshop time? A whole day, perhaps, traveling to Boston to visit her while she was there for her medical workups? Frank wouldn't have known what to do if Helen had left town for weeks at a time, and she'd been reluctant to find out if Tate would handle it any better. She couldn't put it off much longer, though.
"Look this way, Ms. Bee," Jay called out from the top of the deck's stairs. His sister added, "And look natural."
Helen turned to see that they'd already managed to produce a video camera, which Jay was pointing at her and Tate, leaving Zee to do the directing.
Helen looked up at Tate. "There is one thing I'd like you to do as part of our committed relationship."
"What's that?"
"Save me from the paparazzi."
"That could be a full-time job," he said.
She couldn't read his expression. "Is that a problem?"
Tate glanced over at Jay and Zee and then at the back door where Jack, Lily, and Laura were on their way out.
"Absolutely not." He bent his head to kiss her, pausing before their lips touched to say, "I've finally found something—someone—I'm more passionate about than woodworking."
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* * * * *
Gin Jones is a lawyer who specializes in ghost-writing for other lawyers. She prefers to write fiction, though, since she doesn't have to worry that her sense of humor might get her thrown into jail for contempt of court. In her spare time, Gin makes quilts, grows garlic, and serves on the board of directors for the XLH Network.
To learn more about Gin Jones, visit her online at:
http://www.ginjones.com
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Helen Binney Mysteries
:
A (Gingerbread) Diorama of Death
Danger Cove Quilting Mysteries
Danger Cove Farmers' Market Mysteries
A Killing in the Market (short story in the
Killer Beach Reads
collection)
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