Dirty Rotten Tendrils (32 page)

I got into my car and sighed glumly. There seemed to be so many details to work out before we got married, not to mention planning the wedding itself, that I was beginning to wonder if it would ever happen.

Marco pulled his car up to mine and motioned for me to roll down my window.

“What?” I asked.

“Do not call Reilly.”

He’d been paying attention after all. Damn!

 

 

Fridays were busy days at Bloomers, and that morning we had customers the moment we opened our doors, when the regulars, who couldn’t wait for one of Grace’s scones and a cup of her secret blend of coffee, came rushing in.

Lottie was back to her usual pink-clad self. The raccoon eyes and sculpted cheeks were gone, as were the ten-pound earrings. The only remnant of her makeover was her hair, which lay in stiff, flat pieces all over her head. It seemed that the spray starch Jillian had used hadn’t wanted to wash out. When Grace and I asked what had happened to her new look, Lottie would only say that scaring her dog half to death was bad enough, but when Herman, with his weak heart, nearly fainted, she decided she’d rather have a husband than be trendy.

We were surprised to see that only two orders had come in overnight for Lipinski’s funeral. “That makes a grand total of—two,” Lottie said, checking our order sheet.

Grace peered over her shoulder. “Joan Campbell and staff, and Scott Hess, Esquire. How sad that not one other person ordered flowers.”

“At least not from Bloomers,” Lottie pointed out. “Maybe there’ll be some arrangements from other florists.”

“As Arthur Rubinstein said,” Grace began, “‘Love life and life will love you back. Love people and they will love you back.’ What a shame that Mr. Lipinski never took the time to love anyone but himself.” With a regal nod, she sailed off, having illuminated us once again.

At eleven o’clock I finally managed to phone Whispering Willows and talk to the two nurses, Lauren and Kelly. Unfortunately, neither of them had any idea who had called me. All the mobile patients had been accounted for; the others were bedridden. Even more disappointing, they hadn’t seen Dave visiting his mom Monday evening either.

“It was just Nadine, Kelly, and me that night,” Lauren said.

“Three of you for the whole facility?”

“Budget cuts,” she said with a sigh. “Luckily, we’re a small facility, so we’ve been able to limp along with a reduced staff. Just between you and me, though, now that Attorney Lipinski is gone, things might improve.”

“How?”

“He was the chairman of the Whispering Willows board.”

The Lip had his tendrils in a private nursing facility, too?

“Mr. Lipinski had one goal,” Lauren said, “and that was to improve the bottom line. We’re hoping whoever is chosen as the new chairman will focus more on patient care.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks. Anything else I can answer for you?”

“Just a few more questions, if you don’t mind. Did anyone come into the building after seven o’clock on Monday?”

“Visiting hours end at seven and then we lock the doors. Only the cleaning service is admitted afterward.”

A little alarm went off in my head. “What service do you use?”

“TLC Cleaners. They’re commercial cleaners.”

“Would you spell that?” I asked, grabbing a pen.

“TLC. As in ‘tender loving care.’”

Or as in Tansy Chapper?

“Do you want their phone number?” Lauren asked.

“I’ll look it up, thanks. Do you know the cleaning crew?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t tell you who came Monday without checking with the company.”

“Could one of them have used a phone without being overheard?”

“I suppose a call could’ve been made from one of the offices while it was being cleaned.”

“What time does the crew normally arrive?”

“Around eight o’clock. That’s when our kitchen closes. We’re very strict about keeping an immaculate kitchen.”

“I’m sure you are.” But eight o’clock ruled out any of the cleaning people making the call. The message had come in before seven thirty.

I thanked Lauren for her time, hung up, and stared at my notes, tapping my pen on the desktop. If it wasn’t one of the staff or any of the residents, who had phoned? Who would’ve known that Dave was telling the truth about visiting his mom?

The curtain parted and Marco stepped into the workroom. “Hey, babe, how’s it going?”

“Frustratingly.” I rose to give him a kiss. “How about your meeting?”

“I dropped by to give you the full report. Tell me why you’re frustrated.”

“I still can’t find anyone at Whispering Willows who can back up Dave’s alibi. The nurse mentioned that their cleaning company, TLC Cleaners, was there Monday evening, but they didn’t arrive until after the phone call came in for me. So where is the woman who phoned Bloomers to say Dave was telling the truth? Do you think it could be Dave’s mom, and she forgot?”

“I don’t know her well enough to say. Maybe the woman will call again. What else did the nurse say about the TLC cleaning company?”

“Just that they usually arrive around eight o’clock. Why? Are you wondering like I am if TLC was the company Tansy owned?”

“It crossed my mind. I’ll do some digging, see what I can find out.” Marco pulled out a stool at the worktable and sat down. “Ready for the report?”

“You bet.”

“First, the status hearing. Scott Hess appeared for Cody Verse, of course, but Cody didn’t show, which was for the best, since the Chappers were in the courtroom. The attorneys told the judge they had reached an agreement, so the case will be dismissed as soon as the judge receives the written copy and signs it.”

“That must have made the Chappers’ day.”

“It would have, except that at the next hearing the judge refused to reduce the bond, which set off Mr. Chapper. He nearly got himself ejected from the courtroom. Then Tansy fainted. It was a circus for a while.”

“She
fainted
?” We were five minutes into the story and he just now mentioned that? It would have been my lead item. “Is she okay?”

“She came to right away, and Chapper quieted down after Dave reminded him that he could be jailed for his outburst. Fortunately, the judge gave the Chappers the option of using their house as collateral. Once they agreed, Andrew was free to go, but the judge made it clear that if Andrew doesn’t appear for any of his court dates, he’ll order a foreclosure.”

“What was Mr. Chapper’s reaction to that?”

“He did a lot of grumbling, but Dave kept giving him warning looks, so he behaved. Tansy was as white as a ghost, but both accepted the deal, and Andrew went home with them.”

“I hope Andrew realizes how serious that is.”

“Dave talked to him after the hearing. He couldn’t spend too much time with the kid, though, because of our meeting with Dave’s new attorney, Dimitri Ballas.”

“What did you think of him?”

“I liked him. He has an excellent reputation. He’ll do a good job for Dave. In fact, Ballas has already procured a copy of the coroner’s final report.” Marco took out his notebook and flipped to a page. “Here it is in layman’s terms: Lipinski’s death was caused by a mix of alcohol and amitriptyline with chlordiazepoxide, the psychotherapeutic drug commonly known as Limbitrol, in an amount more than sufficient to slow his breathing and stop his heart.”

“Limbitrol? What Mr. Chapper is on?”

“I mentioned that to Ballas, but he didn’t seem too excited about it. He said it’s prescribed routinely for stress and depression.”

“Even so, do you remember Tansy being reluctant to tell us what Mr. Chapper was taking? Might she be protecting him?”

“In all fairness, Abby, all three Chappers, Darla Mae, and even Mrs. Hammond have access to Limbitrol. I verified that with both nursing homes this morning.”

“True, but if you take Mrs. Hammond out of the equation, we’ve already decided Darla Mae is the least likely suspect of the bunch.”

“As I remember, you decided that.”

And here I’d thought Marco’s mind had been elsewhere during that discussion.

“Frankly, Abby, Darla Mae also has the strongest motive of any of our suspects, not to mention that she’s within shouting distance of his office.”

“Hess is closer. Plus, Darla Mae’s coworker Pat and Pat’s husband verified her alibi.”

“Only about an hour of it. Don’t scowl. All I’m saying is that Darla Mae might be more enterprising than you think. I’m trying to get a copy of her phone records to see if she called Lipinski’s office. Beyond that, without knowing what evidence the police have, all we can do is try to eliminate other suspects.”

“We haven’t even started to investigate Cody.”

“He’s our biggest challenge. None of his people are going to talk to us. And even if we’re able to find out who his doctor is, the doc won’t divulge anything.”

“If I could meet with Lila in private, I’ll bet I could get her to talk.”

“Cody will never let you get close to her, Abby, and that goes double if he has something to hide. Ballas told me Cody has a history of blowing his cork where Lila is concerned.”

Wow. Jillian actually got it right.

“The week after he won the
America’s Next Hit Single
contest,” Marco said, “Cody hammered some poor guy waiting in line for an autograph because the guy tried to get a photograph of Lila. It makes me wonder if those bodyguards are for Cody’s protection or to keep people away from Lila.”

“Cody is sure one insecure guy.”

“Insecure guys can be dangerous. And by the way, Dave explained why he’s been so preoccupied. It’s just what Martha thought—he was afraid he was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. But after a good checkup his doctor chalked up his forgetfulness to stress and ordered him to take a vacation and find a yoga class.”

“That’s terrific! What a relief. I’m sure Dave felt much better after receiving that news. Now if only we could give him some good news, too.”

I sat down beside Marco and put my chin in my hand. There had to be a way to get to Lila. Too bad Jillian wasn’t really her wardrobe consultant. I frowned at my reflection in the copper pot on the table. I’d pulled it out for a centerpiece I had yet to complete. I was planning a spring arrangement of bicolored tulips in bright orange and soft sherbet; hyacinths in hues of purple, pink, and mango; glamorous gloriosas in soft pink with white edges; and giant alliums . . . And there was my way around Cody!

“Marco, I can deliver flowers to Lila at the hotel. That always gets me in the door.”

Marco cupped my face and gazed into my eyes. “Did you hear me mention that Cody could be dangerous? I’ll handle this part of the investigation.”

Before I could object, Marco leaned in and pressed his lips against mine, which made it difficult to stay focused. We kissed for a long minute, and then he straightened up and fixed me with his penetrating brown eyes. “No floral delivery to Lila. Promise?”

That kiss was a totally unfair bribe. “Fine. But are you saying Cody won’t go after you?”

A flicker of a grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “I’d like to see him try.”

By the steely glint in Marco’s eye, I knew he’d relish the chance to mete out some punishment to Cody. But I was definitely
not
in favor of that. However, I was in favor of another of Marco’s delicious kisses. His tough-guy attitude always revved my engine.

When we were halfway into our curl-your-toes kiss, Grace came through the curtain. “Sorry to interrupt, love, but Lottie is leaving for lunch, and Marco’s brother is here to buy your mum’s tea cart.”

Marco and I glanced at each other in surprise, then jumped off the stools and followed Grace into the shop. She pointed out Rafe in the back corner beneath the towering umbrella plant, the tea cart’s current spot, crouching to inspect the casters on the bottom. Lottie waited behind the cash counter with her coat on and her purse over her shoulder.

“I’ve got it covered, Lottie,” I said, as Grace continued into the coffee-and-tea parlor to attend to customers there.

Rafe got to his feet, a blush spreading up his neck. “Hey, bro. Hot stuff. What’s happening?”

“You first,” Marco said, folding his arms across his chest and fixing him with a big-brother stare.

Rafe smoothed his palms down the sides of his jeans, as though they were damp. “Well, um, I was thinking of giving this—it
is
a tea cart, right?—to the Howards. Cinnamon heard her stepdad telling her mom about it after you guys took off, so I thought maybe it would smooth things over with her.”

“Smooth things over?” Marco asked. “I thought you were back together.”

“She’s still ticked, so I thought a gift to say we’re sorry for the—” Rafe glanced around to see if anyone was nearby, then whispered, “
ring mix-up
would be a good idea.”

“
We’re
sorry?” Marco asked, his jaw muscle throbbing.

“Okay,” I said, hooking my arms through theirs, “let’s take this to the back room, guys.”

I signaled to Grace that I’d be right back, then led the brothers into the workroom and stood guard at the curtain in case anyone came into the shop.

“I don’t have anything to be sorry about, Rafe,” Marco said, obviously miffed. “
I
didn’t give the ring to Cinnamon. If you want to give the cart to them, fine, but it’s not from
us
. Got it?”

“I didn’t give her the ring, either,” Rafe shot back, locking glares with his brother. Their expressions were nearly identical. I had a feeling their tempers were, too.

“Hey,” I said, stepping between them, “I think we can agree that there was a mix-up, but why do you feel like we should give Cinnamon’s parents a gift, Rafe? We didn’t hurt them.”

“Cinnamon says they were so upset about the way the evening fell apart that they hardly slept and are still hurt. Cinnamon’s blaming us for that because of the whole ring snafu. So I thought if I took her parents an apology gift, everything would be good again between Cinnamon and me.”