Green Living Can Be Deadly (A Blossom Valley Mystery) (20 page)

 

The next morning, the sky remained overcast as the sun tried to muscle its way through the mass of clouds. I dressed in my long-sleeved work shirt and khakis and grabbed a sweatshirt for good measure. Mom and Ashlee were still asleep when I got behind the wheel of the loaner car and drove to the body shop. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed my Honda until I spotted it waiting in the side lot. I studied the freshly painted hood from every angle. The guy had done a fantastic job.

I paid him and drove to work, parking in my usual corner spot. As I passed the dining room on the way to the office, the sounds of early-morning chatter and the clink of silverware reached me. Once inside the office, I shut the door to block out the noise and booted the computer. I was brainstorming potential new ad campaigns when the door opened, and Esther walked in.

Today she wore a denim shirt with embroidered pigs along the bottom and little pink pig buttons down the front. I knew she loved finding embroidered shirts at craft fairs and street festivals, and she had a closet full to prove it.

“Morning, Dana. Are you busy today?”

“I’m working on new ideas to promote the farm, now that the festival is over. Is there something you needed me to do?”

Esther fiddled with a pig button. “Would you mind checking on Gretchen? She mentioned she has a hen house full of spa customers this morning, and she might need an extra hand.”

“I’d be happy to. Let me wrap this up.”

“Thanks, Dana. You’re a dear.” She walked out the door.

I finished the paragraph I’d been struggling with, saved the file, and stood. With breakfast now over, I cut through the dining room, where Zennia had already removed the tablecloths for laundering, and crossed the patio area. The path in front of the cabins was empty, and I wondered if Marvin had been at breakfast this morning or if he was hiding in his cabin. It certainly looked bad that he was the last person to see Preston alive. The police must be focusing closely on him.

I slipped through the tent opening to the spa and found Gretchen studying her appointment book. The creases in her forehead disappeared when she saw me.

“Dana, thank goodness. I’ve got back-to-back appointments starting in five minutes and no time to mix ingredients for the facials. Could you do it?”

“If you’ll give me instructions.”

Gretchen led me to the area where I’d had my facial a few days ago and handed me an apron. I surveyed the table of jars and bottles full of mysterious items. She pointed to a jar of dark goo. “Don’t worry about the black moor mud. That’s ready to go.” She laid a hand atop two other jars. “For the mix, you’ll start with the clay and lavender flowers.” She tapped a bottle with a stopper. “Add two drops of this essential oil.” She listed a few more components and then ran back to the desk to greet her first client.

I repeated Gretchen’s instructions in my head as I carefully measured out the ingredients and stirred them in the correct order, hoping I got the mixture right. When I finished, I set the bowl to the side and washed my hands at the nearby sink. I could hear Gretchen talking to someone in hushed tones in another section of the tent. I straightened the jars and bottles I’d moved around, used a nearby towel to wipe the sink area, and tidied up the rest of the stack.

As I headed outside, I met Lily on her way in. Her brown hair was swept up in a bun, wisps falling out the sides. With her long floral dress and old-style boots, she reminded me of an extra from an old
Little House on the Prairie
episode.

When she saw me, she flinched and clutched her head with one hand.

“Lily, are you okay?”

She rubbed her temple. “I can’t get rid of this headache. I’m sure it’s from the stress of Wendy’s death. I’m hoping one of Gretchen’s massages will help.”

I moved aside as a woman exited the tent. Her relaxed countenance was the exact opposite of Lily’s. “Wendy’s death has hit us all hard,” I said. “And now Preston’s dead, too.”

Lily dropped her hand. “Who’s Preston?”

First, Helen didn’t know, and now it was Lily. How had I become the official spokesperson for announcing Preston’s demise? “Preston was Wendy’s husband. He was also murdered.”

Lily gasped. “My God, someone killed Wendy’s husband? But why?”

Either Lily was taking acting lessons, or she truly had no idea who Preston was. If she didn’t know Preston, then she had no reason to kill him. “The police are trying to answer that very question.”

Her hand crept to her temple again. “Oh, I can’t believe it. Now I feel even worse.”

My curiosity meter swung to “High.”

“What do you mean?”

“I . . . I’ve done some terrible things,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “With everyone dealing with so much already, I can’t believe I acted like that. I’ve got to fix this.” She hurried toward the parking lot.

“But what about your massage?” I called after her as she practically ran down the path.
And what about telling me what you feel so guilty about?

“I’ll reschedule,” she yelled back.

I watched her disappear around the corner of the cabins. What exactly had she done? She didn’t seem to be confessing to murder, but what else could it be?

“Was that my next client?” Gretchen asked behind me.

I turned toward her. “She had to leave.”

“That was sudden.” She gave a last look toward the path and shrugged. “Guess that frees up my time, and I owe you for helping me earlier. I could give you that cactus massage I mentioned a few days ago. You said you wanted to write about more spa services on our Web site. Now’s your chance.”

Here I’d helped the woman mix her mask ingredients, and to show her gratitude, she wanted to poke me with cactus needles! Some thanks. “Sorry, but I have a project to work on in the house.” If I couldn’t find anything, I’d make up something.

Gretchen raised her eyebrows. Her eyebrow ring moved along with them. “Can’t it wait?”

Could my imaginary project wait? For a moment, my mind went blank, but then I remembered the file I’d been editing earlier. I crossed my arms. “I’m working on an important marketing document.”

She peered at me. “You do know that the cactus paddles don’t still have needles on them, right?”

They didn’t? Well, that was a relief. “Sure, of course I knew that,” I said. Gretchen grinned at me, clearly not fooled by my denial. “All right, so I didn’t know.”

“Does that mean you want to try the massage?”

I wavered for a moment. “Now that I know I won’t be suffering some twisted acupuncture torture, I’m definitely interested, just not right now. I really do want to finish my project.”

“Suit yourself.” Gretchen went back inside the tent, humming.

I followed the back path behind the cabins to where Berta and her chicken cohorts pecked at the dirt, hoping to snag an extra seed they’d missed during an earlier feeding.

“I think you got it all,” I told her.

Berta’s head snapped up, a mean gleam in her eye. With a flutter of wings, she ran at the fence, trying to peck me through the wire.

“Hey, I was only trying to save you some time,” I said. I moved on before Berta flew the coop and pecked my eyes out. At the pigsty next door, Wilbur wallowed in the mud, not bothering to stand when he saw my hands were empty of treats. What was with these animals today?

I cut past the redwood tree and was walking by the pool, when I saw Detective Palmer exit the dining room through the French doors. I did a double take. What was he doing here?

As he started across the patio, I intercepted him. “Looking for me?”

Detective Palmer gave me the once-over. “No. I was told the guest cabins are back here.”

I clasped my hands together in anticipation. “Is this about Preston’s murder?”

The detective pulled a stick of gum from his pocket, unwrapped it, and folded it into his mouth, placing the wrapper back in his pocket. “What makes you ask?”

“I know Marvin is staying here.” I stepped closer. “Are you about to arrest him?”

“I’m here for follow-up questions. Nothing more.”

“Oh.” I felt disappointment bloom. Not only did I want the police to catch Wendy’s killer, but I would have loved to see the big arrest before I read about it in one of Jason’s articles. The detective started to walk away, and I spoke before he got too far. “Hey, I was at the movies last night.”

“Congratulations,” Detective Palmer said with nary a hint of sarcasm as he turned back.

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. “There’s more.”

“I was hoping.”

“I saw Wendy’s brother, Kurt, there, with her assistant, Drew.”

“Sometimes other people go to the movies, too.”

Geez, this guy should do stand-up. “But they were together. And Drew said they’ve been in a relationship for a while.”

He chewed his gum. “Yes, she told us the same thing.”

This time, I did roll my eyes. “You mean you already knew?”

Detective Palmer’s gum chomping sped up. “Believe it or not, we are professionals. We don’t sit around all day waiting for clues from private citizens who fancy themselves modern-day Nancy Drews.”

I felt my cheeks heat up. “I’m trying to help.”

“Then stop involving yourself in this case.”

Where was the fun in that? “Look, I want to make sure Wendy isn’t forgotten. She was a good person, no matter what anyone says.”

“Which is why we’re logging so many man-hours. To make sure she gets justice, as well as Preston. That’s our job, not yours.”

I looked at my shoes. “Duly noted.” Of course, if I found a clue or two myself, the police could wrap up the case that much faster.

Detective Palmer shook his head and moved toward the cabins. I watched his retreating back, troubled by the thought running through my mind:
Is he any closer to solving the case, or is he as stumped as I am?

 

I went back into the office and worked steadily on the marketing campaign until lunchtime. Zennia waved off my offer to help serve, and I decided to take an actual lunch break for a change. I grabbed my keys and purse, jumped into my car, and revved down the road, swinging through the McDonald’s drive-thru for a Big Mac and an apple pie.

Taking my delicious treasures home, I settled in at the kitchen table and unwrapped my burger. As I was sinking my teeth into the first bite, Mom came out of her bedroom. She eyed the take-out bag and the sauce on my chin, but she didn’t comment as she adjusted the collar on her navy blue blouse, then felt along her pearl necklace to make sure the clasp wasn’t showing.

I chewed and swallowed. “You look fabulous.”

“Thank you. I’m off to work.”

Oops, what kind of a bad kid am I?
I hadn’t even remembered to ask about the first day at her new job. Must be because of all the people dying around here. “How do you like your job?”

“I think I’ve found my element. The customers are so friendly and seem to appreciate my advice on colors and accessories.”

“You’re a natural. I’ve always thought you were one of the best-dressed ladies in town.”

Mom tittered. “Oh, stop. You’re just buttering me up so I won’t mention that lunch of yours. Is that an apple pie peeking out of your bag?”

I folded down the top of the bag. “Thanks for not mentioning it.” I winked at her.

Mom sat down and adjusted one earring. “What have you been up to lately? I haven’t seen much of you.”

I wiped my mouth. “The usual. Work and a date with Jason.” I left out all my activities related to Wendy’s and Preston’s murders, knowing my involvement would ruin her good mood.

“Didn’t you have dinner with his parents the other night? How did that go?”

“Great. They were very friendly.”

Mom stopped fiddling with her earring and folded her hands on the table. “What does this mean for your relationship with Jason? Are you two getting serious?”

I pulled at the lettuce on my burger, considering. “I think we’re both happy with where our relationship stands right now. I freaked out a bit when he first said he wanted me to meet his parents, but then I decided he was just taking advantage of their visit. They don’t come to Blossom Valley very often. I don’t think he meant anything more by it.” If he did, he hadn’t shared it with me.

“If you say so. Jason’s a nice boy.” Mom stood and kissed the top of my head. “I’d better run. I’d hate to be late on my second day.”

I took another bite of burger as Mom gathered her jacket and purse and went to the garage. I listened to the garage door rumble up, the car engine start, and the door rumble down. While I ate my food in silence, I thought about Lily and what terrible thing she could have possibly done. Had she forgotten to bring her reusable bags to the store? Left the water running while she brushed her teeth? Obviously, the issue was more serious than that, but what was it?

Too bad I didn’t have some way to get in touch with her. She was obviously hiding something. Maybe I could ask Gretchen later if she had her number. In the meantime, I’d just have to focus on someone else. Like Drew and Kurt. I needed to learn more about how Drew got her job at Invisible Prints. Struck with an idea, I pulled out my cell phone.
Why don’t I just track down Drew and ask her?

I looked up the number for Invisible Prints and dialed. I wasn’t sure if Helen would be at the office, now that the place was basically shut down, but she seemed to be the type who wouldn’t quit working until the police chained the door shut.

Sure enough, on the third ring, Helen picked up. “Invisible Prints.”

“Hi, Helen. This is Dana Lewis. I spoke with you at the spa yesterday when you stopped by to see Marvin.”

“Yes?” She sounded perplexed.

I gripped the phone tighter. I’d rehearsed in my head what I was going to say, but now I worried my story would sound as fake as the processed cheese on my burger had tasted. “I was trying to reach Drew and was hoping you’d have her home number. I feel so bad that she’s out of work right now, and as luck would have it, Esther might have an opening for her.” I leaned my forehead on the table. All this lying was exhausting.

“How nice, Dana. I’m sure Drew would love to hear from you.”

I wouldn’t bet on it, not after our brief conversation at the movie theater last night, but I didn’t argue.

“Let me see if I can find her number.”

I heard pages rustling. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I have her address, too?”

“Her address?” Definite reservation in her tone this time.

I scrambled to put her at ease. “Yes, last time I saw her, she mentioned how much she loved snickerdoodle cookies, and I baked a fresh batch this morning.” This last part was definitely over the top. I felt like my insides were being squished in a vise.

“I guess that would be fine.” She listed the address and phone number, and I entered the information into my cell phone. Then I thanked her and quickly hung up before she thought too hard about my preposterous story.

Mission accomplished, I took a few minutes to savor the apple pie, the filling still plenty hot. I was chewing the last bite when I heard the front door open. Ashlee bounced into the kitchen, her arms up in victory.

“Dana! The apartment manager called! We passed the credit check, and they’ve already cleaned the place. What do you think about moving in this weekend?”

I almost gagged on my pie. “This weekend? It’s a little soon, isn’t it?”

Sure, I’d signed the lease. Sure, the apartment was empty and ready. But deep down, I still didn’t quite believe that we were moving out of our childhood home and into an apartment together.

Ashlee dropped her Coach knockoff purse on the table and plopped onto a chair. “What are you waiting for?”

“I need to pack.”

“Pack what? Your five shirts and your old Cabbage Patch doll?”

I wanted to smack her, but she had a point. Packing would only take me a couple of hours—if I folded my clothes really slowly. I pulled a napkin from the take-out bag and wiped my hands. “We haven’t even ordered the furniture we picked out yet. Where will we sleep?”

“We can buy the furniture tomorrow and set up delivery. If they have to ship it, we can drag out our sleeping bags for a few days. It’ll be like a camp-out.”

The image of draining my nice little nest egg even further filled my head. The pie in my belly bubbled up. “I guess we could buy a couple of really necessary items,” I managed to choke out. “Maybe Mom’ll let us take that old TV in the garage she doesn’t use anymore.”

“God, Dana, do you know how old that thing is? It’s got that huge bulb in the back. I can’t even lift the thing.”

I flexed a bicep. “We’ll lift it together. New TVs cost money.”

Ashlee groaned. “I can suffer for a while with that thing, but then we’re getting a brand-new plasma TV, no arguments.”

I had plenty of arguments, but I’d save those for when we went TV shopping.

Ashlee went into the kitchen and started rummaging through the refrigerator. I crumpled up my napkin, tossed it in the paper bag with the rest of my lunch wrappings, and stuffed everything into the trash can under the sink. Talking with Ashlee had momentarily distracted me from my plan to visit Drew. One look at the clock showed I’d have to wait until after work. I didn’t have time now.

With a resigned sigh, I got back into my car and returned to the farm, already thinking about questions to ask Drew, such as whether Kurt had anything to do with her being hired at Invisible Prints. And what, if anything, she knew about Wendy’s death. Every time I saw Drew, she looked more tired and stressed. Considering her boss had been murdered, two million dollars was missing, and she’d been laid off, I didn’t blame her for seeming so concerned. But was there more bothering her, just in case that wasn’t enough?

The afternoon crawled by. No matter how many times I looked at the clock, it didn’t move any faster. When I’d about given up hope of ever ending the day, I hit my eight-hour mark. With renewed vigor, I yanked the bottom desk drawer open, removed my purse, and updated my time card. By now, my expectations for my talk with Drew were so high that I knew she’d have to confess to Wendy’s and Preston’s murders for me to feel satisfied. In truth, she’d probably reveal nothing.

But you never knew how these things might go. And that’s what I was counting on.