Nightshade on Elm Street: A Flower Shop Mystery (21 page)

A look passed from Jake to Melissa that I couldn’t read. A threat? A chiding glance? There was an undercurrent to their silent conversation that I couldn’t put my finger on. Whatever it was, Melissa scowled as though she was angry at him, while Jake merely made himself comfortable on a chaise longue near the cottage door and took out his cell phone.

“You never did say where you went off to, Melissa,” Orabell said with a snide smile.

“Mackinac Island,” Melissa replied. Again, a look passed between her and Jake that baffled me. Did Jake know she’d been to Upper Michigan?

“Mackinac Island, did you say?” Halston asked.

“That’s right,” Melissa answered. “No cars there at all, only bikes and horse-and-buggies. It’s a great place to get your head together.”

“No cell phone service there either, apparently,” Orabell said drily.

“Did you stay at the Grand?” Jillian asked, taking a bottle of water from beneath the bar, obviously having given up on my bringing her tea.

“I sure did,” Melissa replied, her gaze shifting toward Jake and then away. I wondered if Marco was catching all their quick glances.

“Did you have a reservation?” Jillian asked.

Melissa narrowed her eyes at Jillian. “Are you questioning me?”

“Someone’s testy,” Jillian said, then glanced at me and raised her eyebrows, as if to say,
What’s going on here?

“I’m not testy,” Melissa retorted. “Why do you care if I had a reservation?”

“I was just curious,” Jillian said. “Claymore and I
tried to go up to the island for a weekend, but we couldn’t get in. They book months in advance.”

“Why don’t you go wait for your husband in the kitchen,” Melissa said, “so he can fetch you a cup of tea with your egg sandwich?”

Jillian’s mouth dropped open. She wasn’t used to sarcasm directed at her. “I don’t want tea anymore,” she said, folding her arms. “Why don’t you go find your ex-fiancé and”—she gestured toward the cottage—“have him fetch you a more believable alibi.”

Go, Jillian!

“Alibi for what?” Melissa demanded.

“How did you manage to get a room so quickly?” Jillian asked, on the attack now.

“They had a cancellation,” Melissa snapped. “If it’s any of your business.”

“Isn’t that convenient?” Jillian retorted, giving Melissa her death stare. “Like anyone just drives up there and gets a room. And do you really think Pryce will take you back because you disappeared for two days?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Melissa said, moving toward Jillian, “so be careful what you say to me.”

Marco stepped forward to block her path. “Let’s leave it there, ladies. Abby, would you take Jillian inside to wait for Claymore?”

“Claymore, is it?” Halston asked. “Haven’t seen the dear boy in some time. Pryce either, for that matter. Where’d he go off to, d’you suppose?”

As if he suddenly woke up, Jake rose halfway from the chair to point toward the beach. “Pryce is down there.”

I turned to look below, my eyes searching the figures on the sand just as a cop strode toward the two detectives with a piece of glossy paper in his hands. Standing
across from them was Pryce. “What the heck is he thinking?” I asked Marco.

At once, Marco strode toward the deck steps and hurried across the pool area, while Halston, Melissa, Jillian, and Orabell joined me at the railing to watch. Jake stayed back to make a phone call, then stepped inside the cottage to talk.

Before Marco could reach the group, the detectives showed the glossy paper to Pryce, who looked at it, then seemed to crumble, buckling at the knees. The detectives went to grab his arms, but he shook them off, then braced his arms on the side of the squad car and bowed his head as though he was going to be sick. Marco stood beside him, talking to him.

“Maybe it
is
his mother,” Jillian whispered to me.

“H
is mother isn’t a young woman,” I reminded my cousin.

“Then there’s only one other person that I know of who’d get that kind of reaction from Pryce,” Jillian said, then suddenly brightened. “Claymore!”

“It can’t be Claymore,” I said, then realized she was talking to her husband.

“I’m right here, my darling,” Claymore replied, stepping out of the cottage.

She hurried toward the sliding glass door to hug him, then straightened the collar of his polo shirt. “I was beginning to worry about you. What took you so long?”

“I couldn’t get off the phone with my mother,” he said, kissing her forehead.

At least now I knew for certain that the body wasn’t Evelyn Osborne.

“You know how she goes on,” Claymore continued, as Jillian led him toward me. “Then I had to park all the way down the road and hike here. It was grueling.” He gave a shudder. “Does anyone know where Pryce is?”

“On the beach,” Melissa said.

Claymore spotted Melissa and his eyes widened. He
immediately went over to give her a hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe. We were all worried about your well-being. Where were you?”

“In recovery,” Melissa said, holding up her glass.

“She said she stayed at the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island,” Jillian said with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you about that later.”

Melissa gave Jillian a furious glare. “I stayed there, Jillian.”

“I don’t believe her,” Jillian whispered to me.

“Look down on the beach, Claymore,” Orabell said. “There’s your brother. If you asked me, Pryce shouldn’t have gone down there. Going to make those detectives think he’s guilty as sin, isn’t he?”

“Claymore, don’t worry,” I said, as Pryce’s younger brother rushed to the railing. “Marco’s with him.”

“Why did Pryce go down there?” Claymore asked Jillian. “You told me on the phone he’d been advised against it.”

“Wanted to find out who drowned,” Orabell said. “The detectives are grilling Pryce about it now.” She lifted her eyebrows to emphasize the importance of her statement.

“How do you know what they’re doing?” Melissa snapped.

“What do you suppose they’re doing?” Orabell retorted. “Having punch and cookies? Of course they’re grilling him. That’s what cops do. See if they can force a confession out of him is what they’ll try.”

“For what?” Jillian asked. “What do you think Pryce could confess to, Orabell?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Orabell replied. “I call them like I see them.”

Before Jillian could retort, Halston held up the bottle of rum. “Want some, Mummy?”

“No.” Orabell shrugged unhappily. “It’s not fun over here anymore, Halston. Let’s go home.”

“Jake, have you tried calling Lily’s cell phone?” Jillian asked, a worry wrinkle forming between her eyebrows.

“She hates it when I interrupt her while she’s busy,” Jake muttered, not looking at her.

“Fine. I’ll call her,” Jillian said.

“Never mind, I’ll do it,” Jake grumbled. He hit a speed dial number, then put the phone against his ear and waited. After a minute, he said, “Hey, Lil, it’s me. Call me back, okay?”

Ending the connection, Jake said tensely, “It went to her voice mail. You know how calls get dropped around here. Right?”

No one replied.

“Who else might know where your wife is?” I asked.

“What is this?” Jake said, gazing around at us. “Do you guys know something I don’t know?”

“Here come Pryce and Marco,” Claymore said with relief, and started toward the steps, only to stop and stare at his brother as he approached, head down, shoulders slumped.

“Did they tell you who it is, Pryce?” Halston called.

“Shut up, Halston,” Orabell called. “Can’t you see he’s got things on his mind?”

At the top of the stairs, Pryce drew in a breath and blew it out, as though gathering his strength.

“What happened?” Claymore asked.

Pryce’s gaze moved slowly toward Jake, who had gone absolutely still. As Pryce walked over to him, Jake rose slowly from his chair, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. I put my hand in Marco’s and gave it a squeeze.

Laying his hand on Jake’s shoulder, his voice breaking, Pryce said, “I’m sorry, Jake. It’s Lily.”

There were gasps all around. Halston fell back into his chair, while Jake merely stared at Pryce in shock. After a long moment, he cried, “What are you saying, dude?”

Pryce just gazed at him forlornly.

Jake pushed Pryce’s hand off his shoulder and backed away, as though ready to fight or flee. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Take it easy, Jake,” Marco said.

“You’d better sit down, Jake,” Claymore said kindly.

“No!” Jake shouted. “It’s not true!” He got out his phone again, hit a number, and listened. A few seconds later, he threw down his phone. “Why can’t I ever get a signal here, dammit!”

“Jake,” Pryce began.

“Hey,” Jake said sharply, “I don’t know what the detectives said to you down there, man, but they lied. That dead woman isn’t Lily.” Jake gazed at all of us. “It’s not her!”

Pryce sighed. “They showed me a photo of her body. She was wearing the clothing she had on yesterday.”

Jake didn’t move. He simply stood there, blinking slowly, as though trying to absorb the news.

“I’m sorry,” Pryce said in a hoarse whisper.

His face turning red from rage, Jake pulled back his fist, ready to throw a punch at Pryce, who stood there as though he wanted to take it. Before Marco could get between them, Jake’s arm went limp and then he collapsed onto his knees on the deck, covering his face with his hands and sobbing.

“Halston, pour the boy a drink,” Orabell commanded. “He’s about to fall apart.”

It was Jillian and Claymore who coaxed a red-eyed Jake inside. Meanwhile, the drama on the deck continued when Melissa stepped forward, catching Pryce’s eye.

“I’m back,” she said softly, giving him an innocent head tilt and a hopeful glance.

Pryce seemed to freeze. Then, after delivering his haughtiest nose-in-the-air look, he stalked across the deck, slid the door open with a bang, and went inside, closing the glass door so hard, I was afraid it would shatter.

And Marco had wanted to miss all this drama.

“He’ll come around,” Melissa said, lifting her chin as she gazed around at the onlookers. “Just wait and see.” She curled up in a chair and gazed out at the water.

Her reaction didn’t come close to mine when Pryce broke up with me. I’d run and hidden at my parents’ house. Melissa was definitely a different sort of bird.

Speaking of birds, Orabell flitted toward the sliding door as though about to follow Pryce inside. Halston caught her arm and said with a somber sigh, “Let’s go home, Mummy. Time for your nap.”

Orabell jerked her arm away from him. “How am I supposed to nap with all this activity going on? You can go if you want, Halston, but I’m staying put.”

“Abs,” Jillian called from the doorway. “Could you and Marco take over in here? I’m feeling a little
mal à l’estomac
.” She pointed to her stomach and made a sour face.

Marco and I sat on the sofa in the family room as Jake paced, his eyes haunted, his fists clenched, clearly too distraught to sit.

“Why didn’t the cops tell me?” Jake ranted. “I’m Lily’s husband! Me! They should have come to me! I have my rights!”

“Pryce already explained that,” I said. “The police needed an ID and Pryce didn’t realize you’d come back.”

“They could have phoned me. I mean, who doesn’t
have his cell with him? Why go to Pryce before me? It makes no sense, man!”

“They found her body in his backyard,” I said. “It makes perfect sense. Maybe they tried your phone and couldn’t get a connection.”

“It’s a moot point, Jake,” Marco said. “They did it, and it’s over.”

Jake stopped at the window, bracing his hands on the sill to stare out at the water. After a long moment, he sighed heavily and in a voice devoid of emotion asked, “So what happens now?”

“Lily’s body is on its way to the county morgue for an autopsy,” Marco said. “The police should be contacting you shortly.”

“For what?”

“To explain what to do about funeral arrangements,” Marco said, “and to ask you some questions.”

“What kind of questions?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at us.

“Just routine stuff,” Marco said.

Jake strode back into the family room and sat down in a nearby chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “Like what?”

“Such as, did Lily say anything to you about going down to the water?”

“You mean like for a swim?”

“Pryce said she still had on yesterday’s clothing, so maybe for a boat ride?”

“Not to me she didn’t,” Jake said tersely. “Maybe that’s a question they should be asking Daddy Big Bucks. Maybe they should also ask him how Lily drowned.”

“Daddy Big Bucks being Pryce?” I asked.

“Who else?” Jake said, his upper lip curling in distaste.

“Why would you think Pryce had anything to do with her death?” Marco asked.

Jake shrugged but didn’t reply. Did he know more, or had he spoken out of spite?

“When was the last time you talked with Lily?” Marco asked.

Jake picked at a thread on the cotton cushion. “Yesterday before dinner.”

“Did she come home last night?”