Nightshade on Elm Street: A Flower Shop Mystery (18 page)

“I informed her I was going with Chinese food at the shower.”

“You know she doesn’t have a clue how to make Chinese food, right?”

I smiled.

Rafe nodded. “Smart girl.” With a chuckle, he turned and left.

Wednesday

My cell phone rang early the next morning, before I was fully awake. I was sitting at the counter in my apartment’s small galley kitchen, sipping my first cup of coffee and waiting for my toast to pop up, when my phone began to play Pink’s “So What.” I’d chosen that ringtone around the time of Jillian’s wedding, but now I couldn’t remember for whom.

One look at the screen said it all: Pryce Osborne II. I should have known by the knot in my stomach.

Marco came into the kitchen wearing navy and maroon plaid pajama bottoms, took a coffee mug from the cabinet, and sat on the stool beside mine. He’d come in some time after one o’clock in the morning and had camped out on the sofa so he wouldn’t wake me. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”

“It’s Pryce,” I whispered, giving him a pained glance.

“He can’t hear you,” Marco whispered back. “Want me to get it?”

And make me feel like a coward? “No, that’s okay. I can do this.”

The phone stopped ringing. Problem solved.

“Are you going to call him back?” Marco asked, because clearly that was what he would’ve done.

“If it’s important, I’m sure Pryce will try again.”

The stupid phone rang. Marco waited. I sighed and reached for my cell phone just as my roommate Nikki’s white cat, Simon, leaped onto the counter and began to wash his face to remove all traces of breakfast tuna. “Down, Simon!” I said.

The cat stopped washing to give me a
Surely you don’t mean
moi look, then went back to his ablutions. He was cranky because Nikki was out of town for a five-day medical conference.

Marco put Simon on the floor, then got up to pour himself a cup of coffee. “You sure you don’t want me to answer?”

I hit the green button and said, “What’s up, Pryce?”

“Sorry to phone so early,” he said in a quiet voice, “but there’s been a serious development.”

I wanted to give him some kind of flip comment, one of the many I’d saved in my head just in case I should ever have the opportunity to use one, but the anxiety in Pryce’s voice had my full attention. “How serious?”

There was no sound from the other end of the line, as if the call had been dropped.

“Pryce? Are you there? Hello?”

Marco was instantly on full alert. “What’s going on?”

“He said there’d been a serious development—then the line went dead.”

The phone trilled and I quickly hit the green button. “Pryce?”

“Weak signal out here,” Pryce said. “There are police swarming all over my property. Would you call Marco and have him phone me immediately?”

“Police are swarming your property?” I repeated for Marco’s benefit. “Why?”

“Just tell Marco a woman’s body washed up onto the sand near our boat dock this morning, and to get here right away. Please!”

T
hat was serious enough to put my animosity aside. “Pryce, hold on.”

“What is it?” Marco asked.

I held my hand over the receiver. “A woman’s body washed up on the beach by the Osborne boat dock. Pryce wants to talk to you.” Taking my hand off the mouthpiece, I said, “Pryce, Marco is here with me now. I’ll put you on speakerphone so we can both listen.”

“Abigail, the police are pounding on my door! Please hurry.”

I pushed the speaker button and laid the phone on the counter. “Okay, Pryce, go ahead.”

“Has the body been identified?” Marco asked.

“I don’t know,” Pryce said, sounding panicked, “but I’m afraid it’s Melissa.”

“Calm down and listen to my voice,” Marco said sternly. “Have you let the cops enter your cottage?”

“No.”

“Okay, good. Listen to me carefully. They cannot come in if you don’t open your door. Do you understand? They cannot come in without a warrant. Do you know if they have a warrant?”

“I—I don’t think so. They didn’t say anything about a warrant.”

“Have any detectives spoken to you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you give them any information at all?”

“Yes, I told them I didn’t know anything.”

“Good. Then they have nothing on you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“How did you find out about the body?”

Pryce’s voice was shaky and hoarse, as though his throat had closed up, and I could hear him breathing shallowly. His anxiety came as a surprise. I’d never heard him sound anything but arrogant.

“A cop was standing out on the back deck,” he said, “so I opened the door to see why and that’s when he told me about the…woman.”

“Then don’t worry,” Marco said. “They’re simply informing you they found a body on your beach. Do you understand?”

“Why do you keep asking him if he understands?” I whispered.

Marco held his hand over the speaker and said near my ear, “He’s frightened, and that means he might not be getting what I’m telling him. If I keep repeating the question, it forces his brain to pay attention.”

“How do we know he isn’t responsible for whoever is on the shore?”

“I can tell by his voice, Sunshine. That’s not the voice of a guilty man.”

Marco uncovered the speaker. “Who’s out there now, Pryce?”

“I don’t know. Cops, investigators, medics, a police photographer, the coroner…Dear God, two television
vans just pulled up. I’ve got to keep this from hitting the news, Marco.”

“Pryce, listen to me. Are any of your friends at the house with you now?”

“No.”

“Do you know who discovered the body?”

“I don’t know and I don’t want to ask. You have pull with the police, don’t you? Would you please find out what’s going on? I’m desperate.”

“I’ll do that now and let you know. Hang in there, Pryce. At this point, the cops are talking to everyone in the vicinity to see if anyone saw or heard anything, that’s all. Understand what I’m saying? No one is accusing you of anything, okay? I’ll get back to you shortly. Keep your phone with you.”

Marco ended the call, then texted his buddy Sergeant Sean Reilly of the New Chapel PD. As we waited for a response, Marco said, “I’m not sure how much Reilly can help, because some police departments don’t talk to anyone outside their own force.”

While we waited for Reilly’s call, I made the two of us toast with almond butter and honey on it; then we sat back down at the counter to eat. Simon stood on his hind legs to give Marco a tap on the arm, which earned him a gentle head scratching. He rewarded Marco with loud purring.

“Who’s my bud?” Marco asked, leaning down so Simon could rub his cold little nose against his forehead.

Simon had never taken to any male before Marco. The only attention he’d given Pryce was to puke on his Ferragamo loafers. Nikki’s boyfriends were ignored completely.

Marco’s phone buzzed, so he grabbed it. “Hey, Sean, thanks for getting back to me. I need a favor.”

I left him talking so I could get ready for work. When I returned to the kitchen, Marco was rinsing out the coffeepot.

“Well?” I asked.

Marco put his plate in our minuscule dishwasher. “The only information Reilly had was that a man out jogging along the shore at dawn phoned in the report of a woman’s body. There’s been no identification made yet, so there’s a good chance it’s not Melissa. For all we know, the victim could have been pulled under by a riptide or drowned in a boating accident.”

“So what happens next?” I asked.

“What happens next is that I’m going up to the lake to see what I can find out. I don’t think there’s any danger to Pryce, but I’d feel better talking to him face-to-face and maybe seeing what I can find out from the cops.”

“Do you want me to come along?” It was a question I had to ask because half of me dreaded going out to that cottage again and spending more time in Pryce’s company. The other half was burning up with curiosity.

Marco pulled me close. “I always want you along, buttercup, but we may be there for a couple of hours. Do you have that much time free?”

I glanced at the clock. Figuring on half an hour of travel time each way, and a few hours at the lake, I wouldn’t get into Bloomers until ten o’clock or later. Dilemma over. “I’ll take a pass. I don’t want to leave Lottie and Grace shorthanded.”

Marco put his forehead against mine. “You could ask my mom to help out, you know.”

“That would definitely solve one problem. But I’m afraid it would foster a new one.”

“Which is?”

“Promise you won’t laugh.”

He made a cross over his heart. “Promise.”

“Your mom might ask me to employ her.”

Marco covered his mouth, trying to squelch a smile, so I playfully punched his arm. “You promised.”

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it. Why do you think my mom would want to work for you?”

“Because she loves Bloomers as much as I do. She calls my workroom her paradise.
Her
paradise, Marco. My workroom.”

“Okay, Abby, let’s put that fear to rest right now. Francesca Salvare works for no one. If she can’t call the shots, she doesn’t want the job.”

“
Her paradise
, Marco, as though she owned the shop.”

“Do you trust that I love you?”

I knew this was going to be a trick question. “Of course.”

“Then trust me when I say she doesn’t want to own Bloomers. She just likes the atmosphere there.”

When it came to understanding mothers, Marco was too naive for his own good. “How much do you love me, Marco?”

His voice dropped to a husky growl. “Want me to show you later?”

“Yes. But how about a quick demonstration now?”

“Now?”

“No time like the present, as Grace likes to say.” I reached into his pocket and slid out his cell phone. “Call your mom for me and ask her to help out at
my
flower shop. I’ll phone Lottie to let her know we’re on our way to Dune Haven.”

“You didn’t tell me you and
Mamma
had a confab last night about the shower food,” Marco said, glancing at me with a flicker of a grin as we drove north.

“I blocked it from my mind. She wasn’t happy with our selection.”

“Which is why you chose it.”

“No! I chose it to be unique.”

“Abby.”

“I’m absolutely serious.”

“Two weeks ago, you asked if my mom had ever made Chinese food, and I told you she hadn’t because she didn’t care for it.”

“Okay, that might have been a
minor
reason for my choice. Did I tell you my mom and Jillian are conspiring about my shower outfit?”

“Yes. Twice. Please, sweetheart, don’t go with Chinese just to keep my mom from preparing it. If you’d rather do it yourself, which I still think is taking on too much responsibility, just be up-front about it. Mom will get over it.”

“Are you hinting that you don’t want Chinese food?”

“Abby, be straight with me. Do you really want Chinese food or are you only choosing it to keep my mother from interfering?”

“The answer is both of the above. I can’t hurt your mom’s feelings by saying she can’t make the food, Marco, and you know she will insist upon making it.
And
I think Chinese food will be fun. I’ve already researched it and have my list made out. I just need to buy egg rolls, pot stickers, chicken skewers, and fortune cookies, and make the peanut dipping sauce myself, and voilà! A finger-food fun shower.”

Marco sighed and shook his head. “You’re taking on too much work, Abby.”

“If you help me, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Marco glanced in his rearview mirror, then immediately turned on his signal and pulled onto the shoulder to let an ambulance pass. “You know I’ll help, but I still think you’re trying to do too much.”

“Not a problem. I can handle it.” Or at least die trying. I just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“Okay, Superwoman,” Marco said, laying his hand across my shoulders, “we’ll see. How painful is your neck right now?”

I sighed miserably and reached my hand around to massage a tender spot. “Let’s just say it’s been better.” It had also been worse. I’d developed a horrendous pain in my neck when I was engaged to Pryce. Coincidence? I thought not.

We followed the ambulance onto Elm Street, stopping at a roadblock set up just before the Osborne cottage. Marco had to show his driver’s license and PI badge so we could park and get out of the car.

Pryce was waiting for us by the front door and greeted Marco with a vigorous handshake. I would have shaken his hand, too, if pushed into it, but he was so agitated, I didn’t think he even noticed me.

“Thank you for coming, Marco. I’m an absolute wreck. Hello, Abigail.”

So he had noticed me.

Pryce opened the door for us, then followed us inside. “Were you able to find out anything?”

“I’m still waiting for a definitive word,” Marco said. “All I could learn was what you’d already told me.”

“Let’s go to the back deck so you can see what’s happening.”

“Did you call your attorney?” I asked, as Pryce led us through the cottage.

“I wasn’t able to reach him. He’s at a legal conference, and his associate hasn’t returned my call.”