A Root Awakening: A Flower Shop Mystery (23 page)

He released me and grabbed his binoculars. “I see movement.”

I glanced toward the Joneses’ house and saw a black-and-silver truck backing out of the driveway. “That’s Mr. Paisley’s truck. I recognize the Bears decal on the back.”

“Who’s Mr. Paisley?”

“The other janitor at the school where Norm works. I’ll bet he asked to borrow the truck so they could move. I knew they were planning to leave tonight.”

“Norm is driving, but I don’t see anyone else in the truck.” Marco put the binocs aside and started the car. “We’d better follow him.”

We tailed Norm to a Walgreens drugstore and waited in an adjacent store’s parking lot until he came out holding a small white bag. Marco adjusted his binoculars. “It’s a prescription bag. He went for medicine.”

“I’ll bet it’s for Bud. Sandra mentioned that he’d had a stomach upset. He must be worse.”

“That should work in our favor. Hopefully they won’t move while he’s sick.”

“I don’t know, Marco. They have to be nervous.”

“Nervous, yes, but don’t think they don’t know the law. They’re not stupid, or they’d have been caught by now. They know that even if you’d reported them today, the cops wouldn’t act that fast.”

“Then why did they take off after Sergio’s accident?”

“They weren’t taking any chances of the cops figuring out what happened. What bothers me is the truck. Didn’t you say that a black pickup truck nearly ran you down?”

“Yes, but I can’t imagine Mr. Paisley being a part of that.”

“You saw a small figure in a hooded jacket. Why couldn’t that have been Sandra? Didn’t you see her pick Norm up once before?”

“Oh, my God, Marco. It makes perfect sense. They wanted Sergio to die, so they went to the hospital to kill him. What could Sergio have seen that made him so dangerous?”

“We need to talk to those kids,” Marco said.

We followed Norm home, then sat in our car until all the lights went out. Marco put on his black stocking cap and crept around their house trying to peer in the windows to make sure they weren’t packing in the dark, but all the shades had been drawn.

“What do we do now?” I asked as Marco buckled his seat belt.

“Go home and figure out our next move.”

Twelve a.m., Sunday

I
sat on the sofa with Seedy on my lap, stroking her little head, as Marco checked everything in his duffel bag. He was wearing a light blue button-down shirt and black pants with his black leather jacket. He had with him a black baseball cap with the New Chapel Police emblem on it, a souvenir from his days on the force. I’d never seen him use it before, and he was only going to wear it now to intimidate one or both of the Joneses into talking to him later that day.

“Won’t Sandra remember you from the day of the accident and know you’re not a cop?” I asked.

“If she remembers me,” Marco said, “she’ll also remember that I was standing with Reilly the entire time. She’ll assume I’m a plainclothes detective.” He added two bottles of water and his revolver to the contents, then zipped up the duffel.

“Ready to go,” he said. Like a panther, he was eager to track down his prey.

“I wish you’d let me come with you.”

“There’s no need for both of us to sit up all night, Buttercup. You get some sleep so at least one of us will be fully functioning tomorrow.”

I’d never seen Marco not fully functioning, no matter how little rest he’d had. He’d trained for this type of action as a Ranger. I, on the other hand, was not a pleasant person to be around when I’d had less than seven hours of sleep. But this was
my
investigation, and even though I knew Marco was being considerate, I still wasn’t happy about being left behind.

Our plan was for him to watch the Jones residence all night, and if they didn’t attempt to flee, I’d meet him there in the morning. I would park on the next block in a church parking lot and join him in the Prius, where we’d wait for an opportunity to talk to Sandra alone. If that didn’t happen by dusk, Marco was prepared to meet both of the Joneses head-on. Divide and conquer, basically. He’d keep Norm occupied while I worked on Sandra and the kids.

There were a lot of pieces of the plan that could go wrong, and for that reason I was already on edge as I kissed and hugged him good-bye. “Good luck. Text me if anything happens.”

“I know the drill, babe. Go to bed. It’s late.”

I locked the door behind him and then stood at the front window watching as he drove away. My stomach gurgled uncomfortably, reminding me I’d eaten little that day.

“Okay, Seedy, let’s hit the sack.” I turned around and found her already asleep in her bed.

Tiptoeing past her, I put on my pajamas and crawled under the covers, then checked to be sure my phone wasn’t
on mute. I laid it on the nightstand, turned so I could grab it easily, and tried to fall asleep, but without Marco’s steady breathing next to me, I didn’t even get drowsy. I read my floral magazine until my eyelids drooped, then turned out the light and waited for sleep to overtake me. The only thing that overtook me were concerns that the plan would fail and the kids would disappear.

I did my relaxation exercise—deep, slow breaths like the tide coming in and going out—until I realized at some point I’d started counting the minutes since Marco had left. I switched to counting sheep, and when that got boring, I tried to name a flower that went with every letter of the alphabet.
X
was the toughest, but I eventually remembered the xanthorrhoea. And I was still wide awake, worries crowding out any chance of getting some shut-eye.

After two hours had passed. I texted Marco:
Everything ok?

His reply came in immediately:
Ys. Go to slp.

I was trying to
slp
but
slp
wasn’t coming!

I dozed and woke, dozed and woke, looked at the clock and realized only two and a half more hours had passed.

Still ok?
I texted.

No reply.

I stared at the small screen as if that would make him answer. I got out of bed, drank some water, and came back—and still no reply. Where was Marco? What if Norm had spotted him and now he was lying somewhere in the dark, mortally wounded? What if even now Norm had packed up Sandra and the kids and they were on their way to Canada?

I threw back the covers, ready to jump into my clothes and drive to their house, when my phone dinged. Whispering a prayer of thanks, I ran to grab it.

Still ok.

My thumbs were trembling as I typed in my reply:
Where were you?

Reconnaissance. Why RU up? Slp!

If only.

At five in the morning, I gave up. Sleep was futile. I needed to be there with Marco.

After taking a shower and having a piece of toast with half a cup of coffee, I put on my black jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt. Underneath the sweatshirt was a yellow long-sleeved T-shirt with the Bloomers logo on the front and orange and pink daisies in a stripe down both sleeves. If our plan was successful and I had the opportunity to talk to the children, I would shed the sweatshirt. I needed to look as friendly as possible.

Originally, I had planned to take Seedy along, but Marco had dissuaded me. Even though she would act as a kid magnet, with only three legs, she might also be a liability if we had to leave fast. I wasn’t about to take a chance with her safety.

As the sun came up, I parked the car in the church parking lot, then walked to the Joneses’ street to find the Prius. It was at the far end of the block, kitty-cornered from their house. As I approached, I texted Marco so I didn’t startle him.

I heard the doors unlock; then I slid into the passenger seat and put down my hood. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too worried about you.”

“Sorry, babe.”

Even as bleary-eyed as I was, I couldn’t help but notice his day’s growth of beard—more of a twenty-four-hour shadow now. It made him look even sexier than usual.

He turned to gaze out the window. “There’s been no activity whatsoever.”

And that’s the way it stayed until noon. By that time, my legs were stiff, my back hurt, and I was ravenous as well as thirsty. I couldn’t imagine how Marco stood it. He had to be dehydrated from not drinking anything.

He pulled two energy bars out of the duffel bag and handed one to me. “I know it gets uncomfortable. This will help with the hunger.”

We waited another hour, and then suddenly Mr. Paisley’s pickup truck came backing down the driveway.

“It’s Norm,” Marco said, starting the engine. “He’s by himself again. Let’s see what he’s up to this time.”

“I’ll stay here. I want to make sure Sandra doesn’t leave with the kids.”

“Then put your hood up. Don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“This isn’t my first surveillance, Marco.”

He looked at me askance. “I knew you should’ve slept. Just promise me you won’t take any action until I get back unless it’s to tail Sandra. I don’t want to worry about you.”

I sighed.

“I’ll take that as a promise,” he said, one corner of his mouth curving up in that devilish way of his. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me, Marco. Don’t worry.”

We made sure no one was around and then I got out of the car and strolled in the opposite direction of the Joneses’ house. I stopped at the corner to watch Marco drive away, then circled around the block and cut through the yard of the neighbors directly behind Sandra’s until I reached the shabby picket fence that surrounded the yard. I heard a little girl singing and peered through the slats to see Daisy sitting at an old wooden picnic table in the backyard drawing.

It was eerily like my dream.

I wanted to climb the fence right then and talk to her, but I knew that would be unwise. Not only would I frighten her, but Sandra would undoubtedly intervene. I needed Marco to distract her.

Daisy in backyard,
I texted.
Hurry.

He texted back:
Gd news.
Norm at bar wtchng Brs game. B there soon.

I cut back through the neighbors’ yard and walked around until Marco texted to meet him at the corner. He parked the car, put on his cap, stuck his revolver inside his jacket, and got out.

“Ready?”

I patted my pocket. “Swabs are right here, and I’ll record with my phone. I’ll wait around at the side of the house until you get inside. Then I’ll slip through the back gate.”

“Let’s roll.”

Because it was broad daylight, we couldn’t sneak around the outside of the house to see where Sandra was, so Marco simply walked up to the front door, rapped on it hard, and called, “Mrs. Jones? Sandra Jones?” And rapped again, just like the cops did.

I was crouched behind a thick boxwood shrub at the side of the house, so I couldn’t hear Sandra, but I knew she must have answered the door when Marco said, “I need to talk to you, ma’am. Please step outside.”

He had the cop act down pat.

Then he said, “This is about the accident that happened at the New Chapel property you were renting. I’m going to need to ask you and your children a few questions.”

Sandra must have argued that she didn’t have to answer because Marco said, “No, I don’t have a warrant. That will involve bringing back officers in uniform, and I don’t think you want that kind of attention.”

There was a long moment of silence and then I heard Marco say, “Thank you. This won’t take long.”

I sure hoped it wouldn’t.

At the sound of the front door closing, I knew Marco had gone inside, so I scrambled out of the bushes, took off my sweatshirt, and peeked into the kitchen window on the side of the house. I didn’t see anyone, and fortunately the neighbors’ house didn’t have a window on that side, so I was praying no one saw me. I opened the gate to the backyard and said in a friendly voice, “Hi, Daisy. Remember me? Abby?”

She looked up in surprise, then said excitedly as I approached, “Did you bring Seedy?”

“She’s sleeping right now, but I brought photos of her. Where’s Bud? I want to show him, too.”

“He’s in bed. He has a bad tummy ache.”

That must have been the reason for Norm’s trip to the pharmacy.

I sat down beside Daisy on the old wooden bench,
feeling splinters catch the fabric of my jeans. I put my sweatshirt on the table and pulled out my phone. I wasn’t sure how long Marco would be able to keep Sandra busy, so with little time to spare I scrolled to the photos I’d taken of Seedy playing with Seedling and let Daisy look at them.

That was when I noticed her picture—a stick figure drawing of a mom and dad, a boy and a smaller girl, and a dog. All of the people had black hair, so I assumed it was the Joneses. But was that the dog she claimed she had? The picture gave me an idea.

When she handed back my phone, I turned the camera on and placed it on the table to get an audio recording. I would’ve preferred a video recording, but I didn’t want to frighten her by aiming the camera at her. Then I pointed to her picture. “Is this your dog?”

Daisy glanced up at the kitchen window, as though afraid Sandra was watching, which pulled my gaze up there, too. Seeing no one, she nodded.

“Would you remind me what your dog’s name is?”

With another quick glance at the window, Daisy printed underneath the dog in green marker:
Buster
.

She was afraid to say it aloud. Sandra must have forbade her to talk about him. I needed to get her on tape, so I tried again, pointing to the boy. “Is this Bud?”

Daisy shook her head as she drew in blades of grass.

“Who is it, then?”

She looked at me with worried green eyes, nibbling her lip as though trying to decide whether to trust me.

“I won’t tell anyone, Daisy. I promise.”

With a look of determination, she printed underneath the figure:
Kevin.

“Is Kevin your brother?”

She nodded.

“Where is Kevin now?”

She shrugged as she hunted through a box of colored markers, settling on brown.

I pointed to a figure with long hair. “Is this your mom?”

She nodded again. Had Daisy given her mother black hair to deceive Sandra? I checked my phone to make sure the app was still running. Somehow I needed to get her to talk.

“Daisy, yesterday you told me I looked like your mom. Would you tell me how I look like her?”

Wordlessly, she pointed to my hair and several freckles on my face, then continued to draw.

“But you drew your mom with black hair.”

Still coloring, Daisy finally spoke. “I lost my red marker.”

My heart missed a beat, then started to race as the puzzle pieces from both cases began to weave themselves together. “Where did you lose it, Daisy?”

Her gaze shifted to the window. Then she shrugged.

“Did you throw it out the window?”

She shook her head.

“Did Bud?”

With a scowl, Daisy pointed toward the kitchen window and said in an accusing voice, “
She
did.”

I glanced up in alarm, but no one was there. “Your mom?”

Without looking this time, she said, “No.
Her
.”

“Why did Sandra do that, Daisy?”

“Because I gave something to the man outside the window.”

A chill ran through me as I pictured Sergio standing on the ladder in front of her. “What did you give him?”