Community Gardens (Community Garden Series Book 1) (9 page)

She
knew yesterday was the kind of day that would be hard to duplicate.
She munched on the last piece of roll, savoring it as long as
possible. At the sound of Roz's jeep nearing the corner, she
retrieved the pan of rolls from the kitchen. “Old friend, you
deserve an indulgence too,” she thought.

Roz
bounded up the steps. “What's this? And so early.”

“A
treat for you and me,” she said while stretching her legs.

“They're
warm. How did you microwave the metal pan?”

“I
never, ever microwave real food. It ruins great food. I baked these
fresh in an oven, you remember those things our moms used?”

“Wow,”
Roz said as she tapped at a drip of icing on her tee shirt. “These
are amazing. I didn't even know you baked.”

“It's
rare, but then so was yesterday.”

“Tell
me about it. I suppose getting back to normal might seem boring.”

“Maybe,
but I'll take it. Speaking of normal, after we finish, I'm going to
walk the gardens. You want to watch the store while I do?”

“Love
too especially if you have more rolls.”

After
brunch, Joan started the rounds at the herb beds. The culinary herbs;
basil, chive, and oregano, were just about ready for harvest. The
azaleas had lost most of their blooms, but the powerful scent of
magnolia masked any disappointment. In the citrus grove, the satsuma
and grapefruit trees looked like they would produce a sweet crop. The
blackberry vines and blueberry bushes still thrived after the
harvest.

Her
heart jumped when she saw Potters' display. Chunks of broken pottery
lay scattered across the ground. The smaller, more salable pots had
been busted apart as if someone had swung a bat across the display.
How could this happen?
She picked at a few pieces and assessed
the damage. It would cost a lot to replace the broken pottery and
none of it could be repaired. The biggest loss, though, was all the
time that went into making the pieces.

She
toed at a few pieces of the broken chips then stopped, deciding to
leave the damage alone until the Sheriff looked at it.
Was it
vandals?
It was scary to imagine a vandal jumping the privacy
fence. She looked around for evidence of a break-in. Nothing.
If
not vandals then who?
She recalled the prank mouse on the porch.
Was someone harassing her?
The first person that popped into
her head was Sara. At the thought, a twitch picked at her spine as if
being tapped by a needle. “Ridiculous,” she told herself.
“I must be getting paranoid.”

She
grabbed the phone from her pocket and dialed the Sheriff's office.
While keeping her voice as nonchalant as possible, she asked the
woman who answered the phone to send Ed to check on a possible
break-in. If word got out that vandals broke into the store, her
business would be hurt. Customers might think twice before meandering
the gardens. This time, she was adamant the incident would remain a
secret, even from Blaine.

Not
wanting to see anyone yet, she searched through the windows. The
store appeared empty. She went inside. Then she saw Roz.

“What's
happened to you? You look like you saw a politician.”

“I
had to call the Sheriff.”

“Damn,
this is serious.”

“Potters'
vases, the small ones, are broken. I can't believe anyone could do
this. Can you think of anyone?”

“There's
no one I know that could get over the fence let alone break the pots.
I could understand stealing, but breaking? This doesn't make sense.”

“I
know that was my first thought too, vandals. But why just break pots?
Know who I thought of?”

“I
can't imagine.”

“Sara.”

Roz
fell quiet for a moment then stepped back. “I can see why you
might feel that way. But, let's think about this. If she really
wanted to cause you harm this business wouldn't exist. Am I right?”

The
glimmer of common sense lit up Joan's eyes. “Exactly. You are
right. But who could do this?”

“My
guess is that Benny's involved. He's so jealous of Zack. And if he
really tried he could climb the fence. Could it be paybacks?”

“I
get that, especially since Benny admitted he threw that stupid
life-like rat on the porch. But before we blame him, I'm calling Cal.
Perhaps he can shed some light on this.” Joan dialed and left a
lengthy message, careful to reveal only the facts, without emotion.

Twenty
minutes later, the entrance bells clanged. They heard boots thunk
across the showroom. Cal stepped toward the counter. Deep lines
creased his forehead. “I only heard part of your message.
Something about vandals. Are you okay?”

A
flush brushed Joan's cheek. “I'm so sorry you came all this
way. I mean I'm glad you're here, but I thought my message
sounded...”

“She
means it's been a hell of a morning. And yes, we are okay, thanks for
asking. But a lot of pottery was smashed sometime last night. We
thought kids might have jumped the fence and you being coach, might
have an idea who could have done this.” Roz pushed her bangs
out of her eyes.

“Ah,
now I understand. I can't think of anyone, but I'd like to look at
the scene. Your message didn't sound as if there was a lot of damage,
but if I look at it, I might get more clues.”

Joan
glanced at Roz with pleading eyes as if asking, “can you go,
I'm embarrassed?” She thought her voice was calm when she
called. She thought he would simply return the call. Now that he
wanted to investigate, keeping the incident quiet might be
impossible.

Roz
answered, “you two go. I'll wait here in case anyone shows up.”

Determined
not to appear worried, Joan asked Cal to follow her. They trekked
through the kitchen, passed the cinnamon rolls, and headed out the
back door. At the site, Joan pointed at the broken pots and then bent
down to pick up a few pieces.

“These
guys left the bigger vases, the more expensive ones. That seems so
odd,” she remarked. When Cal didn't respond she stood up. He
had walked to the fence and was starring at a large tree branch
protruding over the fence.

“How
do you think they got in?”

“Could
be this branch, but do you have a dog or did you hear a dog barking
around this tree last night?”

“No,
I don't have a dog and we didn't hear barking either.”

“Can
you come here? I'd like to show you something.”

“You
found the problem?” She hopped over the broken bits of pottery
and scurried toward the fence.

Cal
knelt down and swept away a few dead leaves. “See these
tracks?”

“Are
they dog tracks or Willie's, our cat?”

“No
definitely not that.” Cal stood, looked up, and pointed into
the tree on the other side of the fence. “See that fella up
there on the left?”

Joan
cocked her head, looked up and swallowed hard.

“Did
you start feeding the raccoons?”

She
told herself, “there's nothing to be ashamed of, how could
anyone know? Even Roz didn't suspect a raccoon.” She drew a
long breath, relieved it was a wild animal and not a person that
broke the pottery. An animal could be scared away. People, on the
hand, could be trouble. And the pots? They were just things, they
could be replaced. And the cost? It was just money and that always
comes and goes. When she looked at Cal, he looked as if he was going
to break out laughing.

“So
the jokes on me.”

He
hooted with laughter until tears practically squirted from his eyes.
“I'm so sorry. I know this isn't funny. It's just that I ...”

“Just
what?” she glared.

“I'm
so relieved. I thought you or Zack were hurt. Apology accepted?”

“Accepted.
I guess I feel stupid. I didn't even look.”

“Don't
bust yourself up too bad, most people wouldn't know to look. Shall we
head back?” He cupped her elbow and gently glided her back to
the store.

By
the time they reached the showroom, Roz had already made a fresh pot
of coffee and microwaved the cinnamon buns, making them stickier than
the oven baked rolls they had this morning.

“I
hear lots of talking. What happened out there?”

“It
was raccoons, not vandals.”

“Oh
my god, nasty little critters. We need a dog.”

“I'll
think about it. Right now I can't think about anything.”

When
the entrance bell clanged, they stopped eating, looked up and stared
at the door.

Ed
stepped through the door and pulled off his hat.

“Sheriff?”

“That's
me and you called.”

“We
did,” Joan stammered. “I am glad you came, but I think
before I tell you the story, I'd like to offer you coffee.”

“And
a cinnamon roll,” Roz piped in.

“This
must be one hell of a story if rolls are included.”

“One
I'm sure you'll enjoy.”

Friday
arrived along with sunshine and the promise of clear skies the entire
day. Today, work on the box garden project would begin. Ditch witches
had already cleared most of the surface weeds and debris from the
site. Dump trucks had delivered mounds of soil, mulch, and building
hardware. Volunteers were scheduled to meet at nine a.m. But, before
Joan started work on the gardens, she needed an extra strong cup of
coffee, the kind only Blaine could make.

“My dear, I'm so sorry about your raccoons,” Blaine said
when she plopped on the wooden chair at the front counter.

Shame, the color pink started to rise on her face. “I thought I
had sworn everyone to secrecy.”

“You must be joking.”

“I suppose I should joke about it. That whole thing was a joke.
You know I was so rattled I even thought Sara might be involved, the
way she's been acting so back and forth.”

“No! How could you?” Blaine held his hand over his heart.
“Do you remember when I told you Sara relies on staff to make
her calendar?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, Ivy is responsible for Sara's calendar when it comes to
garden projects.”

“What's that got to do...”

“Sara does want you to landscape the library. It's such an
unsightly mess. Didn't she say so at the baseball field?

“How did you know that?”

“She told me when she realized she missed your meeting because
Ivy left the event off her calendar. It was her way of apologizing.”

“But what about the missed council meeting?”

Blaine waved his arms in circles and flitted his fingers. “Oh
how we do fuss about. My dear, Ivy does not want you to succeed. She
is, after all, president of the garden club. She believes her club
should fix the library, not you Miss Newcomer. And so, again, nothing
was on the calendar. ”

“I couldn't have guessed that. Ivy's been so helpful.”

“Precisely. Do you really think a jealous woman could act any
other way?” He lifted his shoulders and held out his palms.
“
C'est la vie, my dear.
”

“But why did Sara blame George Peterman?”

“She didn't know. You see, George was very upset that night you
weren't on his agenda. He never overlooks a thing. Anyway, he called
me. Then we found out that Ivy told Sara council wouldn't hear your
presentation. Sara thought George was to blame. Of course he had no
clue...”

“Oh no, and I had words with Sara.”

“Indeed.”

Joan scowled. “You could have told me.”

“My dear, you did not ask.”

“All right then,” she sipped on the thick espresso. “I
may have some apologizing to do. But not today. Today, my focus is
getting these boxes built.”

“Well said.”

After they said goodbye, Joan hiked up the hill to the library. The
hike relaxed her enough to focus on the work ahead and forget about
the morning's conversation.
Thirty
volunteers, mainly garden club members and shop owners, were waiting
to start the project. They came with shovels, rakes and wheelbarrows
to create Sand Hill Cove's Community Garden Park.
Today, they
would build twenty box gardens and create the curved paths that
linked the boxes. Eventually, the black chain-link fence surrounding
the property would also be used to support fruit or vegetable vines.

At the entrance, she heard Lindsey and Chloe talking above the
whirling saws, humming drills and pounding hammers.
Busy bees that
never stall, are busy making food for all.
The
elementary school rhyme popped into her head then floated away when
she saw the girls walk toward her with their dirt-caked garden tools
in
hand
.

“
This
is so cool. Think it'll be done today?” Lindsey asked.

“
The
boxes will be, but the plants will grow over time. And you know
gardens, they're never really complete, but sometimes you can slow
down and enjoy them when they're in full bloom.”

Joan
surveyed the project and made a note to herself to thank all the
volunteers that had showed up. Forgetting to thank even one of
them
would
be
a huge mistake. The last volunteer she saw was Ivy, working on a
knock-out rosebush near the library wall. Surprised that Ivy was
working on the project at all, she turned to Lindsey and asked, “any
idea why Ivy is digging in the roses instead of making boxes?”

“
She
wants to get rid of a dead bush.”

“
Funny,
I hadn't spotted it before, but I guess she knows what she's doing.”

As they walked past the sites, Joan checked the yellow flags for
proper alignment. They'd been arranged earlier so the volunteers
would know exactly where to place the boxes. When they reached the
last site, Joan saw Roz hammering a board.