Nipped in the Bud (15 page)

After dropping Lisa at her mother’s to pick up the twins, I drove into town. The library had closed by the time I arrived, so I headed to The Garden Gate. I’d taken advantage of Hazel’s kindness and loyalty, and the least I could do was close up shop. I pulled the truck under the front portico that covered the old fueling area. I’d left the antique red and yellow pumps out front and hung huge baskets of annuals from the posts above. My plan was purely decorative. Turned out, I sold more hanging baskets from this spot than anywhere else in the shop.

Through the windows, I could see Hazel talking to sweet old Emma Gherkin. Emma was dressed in a floral shirtwaist, with thick stockings, white gloves, and old-fashioned shoes that laced up the front. I’d dubbed her a hollyhock—an old-fashioned cottage garden staple that had an unsurpassed nostalgic charm. Mrs. Gherkin always dressed from a bygone era and was as crinkly as a hollyhock flower. Still, she was fun loving and had a gentle spirit that drew people to her. Since I’d moved back to Serendipity she’d tried to convince me to call her Emma, but I couldn’t.

“Who’s Paige Turner?” Mr. T announced my entrance in his favored
Jeopardy
format.

“Oh, Paige, sweetie.”
Mrs. Gherkin threw open her arms. “I am so sorry to hear you found Bud
Picklemann
that way. If he’d only come to our meeting, he might still be alive today.”

“Meeting?”
I stepped into her embrace for a quick hug. “What meeting?”

Hazel’s face was alight with excitement. “Go ahead, Emma. Tell Paige what you told me.”

Mrs. Gherkin released me from her gardenia-scented embrace and rested a gloved hand on my arm. “When I heard about Ida—you know she and I used to crochet together until her faculties got confused—I called her daughter, Nancy. Do you know
Nancy
?”

I nodded and climbed onto a stool next to Hazel. “Just came from her house as a matter of fact.”

“Then most likely she told you about the underhanded way Bud hurt poor Ida.
The nerve of him hiding his company like that just so he could make a few dollars.”

I snorted at the mention of a few dollars. “
Nancy
didn’t say she talked to you about it.”

“That’s my fault, dear. I asked her not to mention our conversation to anyone. I wanted to work on Bud
Picklemann’s
conscience—if the man had one—and get him to do the right thing by Ida’s family.”

“This is where it starts getting good,” Hazel said, saliva fairly dripping from her mouth.

Emma opened her mouth to speak, but her face was less excited and
more weary
than Hazel’s, as if she’d been tormented by this problem. “On Monday morning, I was going to Bud’s office to demand he compensate Ida’s family. If he didn’t, I would make sure he lost his job. Before I reached his office, I ran into him on
Main Street
.” Usually soft spoken, Mrs. Gherkin’s voice blazed like a fire-and-brimstone preacher. “He said I must have misunderstood what happened. He wanted a chance to explain, but he had something to take care of at the moment. So he asked me to meet him at his office later in the morning.”

“Bet he was on his way to find you in the park,” Hazel blurted out.

Mrs. Gherkin gave a serious nod of her silvery-purple hair. “From what I’ve heard, I think so, too.”

I sat up. “So what happened?”

“I went to the Bakery and had one of
Donna’s
lovely fritters then walked to city hall. Bud never arrived. He might have been dead already.” She took a pressed linen hankie from her sleeve and dabbed her eyes. “And there I was, sitting in the vestibule, waiting to take him down a notch.”

I patted her bony shoulder. “That’s okay, Mrs. Gherkin. You couldn’t have known.”

She sniffled. “Well, I’m not going to let my compassion for his wife and
family sidetrack
me from my mission.” She dabbed her eyes again. “Are you familiar with Gus
Reinke’s
wife, Winnie?”

I nodded, and Hazel grinned as if she couldn’t wait for Mrs. Gherkin to get her story out.

“About ten years ago, Gus gave Winnie five hundred dollars in cash.
Out of the blue.
He came home for lunch, plopped it on the table, and told her to spend it on anything she wanted. Can you imagine?” She clutched her chest.

I nodded again, though I couldn’t imagine a frugal man like Gus giving his wife a quarter much less five hundred dollars.
Even if she did work full-time in their hardware store.

“I’ve never talked to anyone about this as I hate to spread gossip, but Winnie was so shocked, she told anyone who would listen, so I guess it’s okay if we discuss it.” Mrs. Gherkin paused as if seeking confirmation that she could share the news without gossiping.

I squeezed her arm.

“Well, as if getting that money once wasn’t enough to make a body shake with surprise, he’s been doing the same thing on the third Monday of every month since then.
Every month!”

“That’s an interesting story, Mrs. Gherkin, but I can’t see how it’s related to Bud.”

“Go on, Emma.
Tell her. Tell her.” Hazel hopped from her stool and danced like a child that’s waited too long to go to the bathroom, sending Mr. T into a circling tizzy.

“Gus has given Winnie five hundred dollars every third Monday for ten years,
but.
. .he didn’t give her anything this past Monday.”

Hazel clasped my arms. “Isn’t this great?”

“
Whatchoo
talkin
’ ’bout, Willis?” Mr. T squawked then flapped his wings and danced a frantic jig.

“And?”
I was as confused as Mr. T.

Hazel slapped her palms on the counter. “Bud was killed the Monday Winnie’s money dried up. What if Bud was paying Gus to keep quiet about the factory? He could even have been on the way to give Gus his monthly payment.”

I bolted upright.
“Blackmail.
You think Gus took the information
Nancy
gave him about Fulcrum and was blackmailing Bud over it.” I pondered the idea and grew to like it mighty fast.
“Oh yeah.
This makes sense for sure. Bud knew how the grapevine works around here. If Gus didn’t start a rumor, it couldn’t spread.”

Mrs. Gherkin returned her hand to my arm. “Now we have to figure out how to prove it.”

Yes, blackmail, a perfect conclusion,
but.
. .“There could be a logical explanation. Maybe Gus was sharing the store profits with Winnie. He could’ve had a bad month so there wasn’t any extra cash.”

Mrs. Gherkin shook her head. “I highly doubt it. Winnie has been suspicious from the first day Gus gave her the money.”

“Then why didn’t she ask him about it?”

“My dear, one doesn’t ever question one’s husband about finances.” Mrs. Gherkin clamped her overly embellished lips together and pointed at the door.

The bell chimed, and I spun around. Drat!
The town’s gossipy hairdresser.

“
Uma
, what brings you here?” I asked as she swung through the opening with large black sunglasses covering her eyes.

“Danger, Will Robinson,” Mr. T screeched.

Uma
whipped off the shades, gave Mr. T a quick glare,
then
tottered toward me. “I had an unfortunate incident at the shop. You know that big plant you sold me last month?”

“Sure, the dracaena,” I said with trepidation. “I hope it’s working out.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “It was, until I accidentally poured hair stripper in the pot instead of water. Now I need a new one.”

I wasn’t going to ask her how she made such a horrific mistake, and I surely didn’t want to sell her another one of my babies so she could strip its very life away. “Maybe you should consider silk plants.”

“No, they look
fake
.” She flicked her fingers.

Seriously?
Everything about her screamed artificial, but she wouldn’t own silk plants? I turned back to Mrs. Gherkin and Hazel. “If you two will excuse me, I need to help
Uma
find the perfect replacement.”

“That’s okay.” Mrs. Gherkin gave a wave of her wrinkled hand. “I need to stop by the repair shop to pick up my good shoes for Saturday night. I sure hope I can stay awake until the crowning ceremony is over.”

I smiled. “Congratulations, by the way. I can’t think of a better Pickle Princess than you.” I tipped my head toward the first service bay where we kept all the indoor plants. “C’mon,
Uma
,
lets see if we can find something you like.”

We rounded the corner together, and
Uma
halted abruptly in front of a huge dieffenbachia. “Don’t you think it’s kind of crazy naming that old lady Pickle Princess just because of her name?”

I didn’t want to get into the subject with someone who couldn’t understand how much being an honorary princess meant to Mrs. Gherkin. I stood to the side of the plant and gnawed on my lip.

Uma
looked up. “Oh, by the way, I heard something this afternoon that might interest you.”

“Really, what?”
I didn’t bother hiding my enthusiasm.

Uma
smirked. “I won’t name names, but
someone
told me they saw Charlie fighting with Bud in the parking lot after church last Sunday.”

“Do you know what they fought about?”

“Bet—I mean, my source said she couldn’t hear them. She did say if Rachel and the kids hadn’t gone over there, she thought Bud and Charlie might kill each other.”
Uma
stroked a thick waxy leaf. “I think I’ll take this one.”

My mind wanted to ponder the news about Charlie, but I wouldn’t sell an accident-prone woman like
Uma
a highly poisonous plant. I tugged her gently by the arm and directed her to another display. I spent the next thirty minutes talking to her about the care and feeding of plants and found training
Uma
far more challenging than training an espaliered plant. In the end, she decided to take another dracaena and try using only water.

Passing an eye-rolling Hazel who had Mr. T on her shoulder, I accompanied
Uma
to the door. Since it was closing time, Hazel was escorting the nutty bird to his cage in my office, where he slept in the dark and quiet. With
Uma
finally on her way and the front door locked, I went in search of Hazel. I found her sitting at one of the round tables.

She looked up from a notepad covered with dark scribbles. “I didn’t know how long it would take you with the blabbermouth, so I wrote you a note about the day.”

I pulled out the chair across from her. This woman was priceless, greater than any amount of money could buy, just like those credit card commercials. She kept the shop going even when I didn’t give it a moment’s thought. “You know, despite what you said this morning,
I’m
the lucky one in this relationship. You’re a real asset to the business, and I’m sorry I haven’t been here today.”

Hazel blushed and shoved the paper across the table. “Here’re the orders I placed. Oh, and the delivery of those containers that were supposed to come today is delayed until tomorrow. Kurt’s truck broke down. He said if things work out he should be here by eleven.”

“If they get here in the morning, we’ll still have enough time to prepare the pots for Pickle Fest.” I reviewed the items ordered, penned in big swirly letters. “Those
SunGrips
gloves are really catching on, aren’t they?”

Hazel snorted. “Could be because we both wear ’
em
and tell everyone how great they are.”

“Point taken.
Okay, well, this looks good.” I set the note on the table and glanced at a shiny dieffenbachia. “I hope
Uma
didn’t cut Mrs. Gherkin off before she was finished telling her story.”

Hazel shook her head. “She got it all out. We just need to figure out what to do with her info. I think I’ll confront Gus tomorrow. See what he has to say.”

I flashed up my hand. “Wait, no. Not yet. I’m all for moving along in solving this, but Emma’s story is hardly enough to accuse Gus of anything.”

“I suppose you’re right. There has to be a way to find concrete proof.” She sat back and tapped her chin with her index finger. “What if Bud had the money to pay Gus when he was killed? The cops would’ve found it in his pocket. Any way we can ask?”

Perry’s source.
“I’m pretty sure I can find out.”

Her eyes were as sad as a little girl who didn’t get any presents on her birthday. “I guess it’s a good idea to wait, but man, Paige, I was ready to let him have it.”

I laughed at her vehemence. “Tell you what. If I find out Bud had a load of cash on him, I’ll let you go after Gus.” I stood and stuck out my hand.
“Deal?”

“Deal.”
As we shook, both sets of hands calloused from hard work moved abrasively against the other.

I smiled. “You’ve had a long day. Why don’t you go on home? I’ll cash out the register and close up.”

“I’ll go, but not home. I have to meet with the chief first.”