The Azalea Assault (11 page)

“You know how to get things across to people.”

“As do you, Officer.” She didn’t expand on his smooth talking of the day before. She just let the compliment hang as she led him and the forensics team. They finally reached the jasmine. “See how the rest of the blooms are sort of uniformly distributed? Some are wilted, but those are all spread out. And see how they’re pruned to a pleasing shape?” She pointed out a number of jasmine bushes, and Jake nodded. “And so you can see how that one caught my eye?” She pointed at the one where she had found Jean-Jacques’s phone. There was a dent at the center and a lack of flowers where a large, heavy mass had clearly crashed into it.

A photographer began snapping pictures, both of the normal and the abnormal bushes.

“Show me where the phone was,” Jake said.

Cam went to the bush and crouched, pointing at the trine of branches that had held the cell phone off the ground.

“Those, I think. Very close to those, anyway.”

The forensic assistant ducked in and, using gloved hands, tied a small yellow ribbon to the middle branch. He then
wrapped yellow crime tape around the whole area, and the three mysterious men with large kits moved in. To Cam, their actions looked random; they seemed to take a sample of this and a sample of that, but she was too far away to know whether it was a hair, fabric, leaves, grass, or some other substance they were gathering as evidence. She froze as she watched them. It was fascinating. It occurred to her how private and secluded this part of the garden was. Why would the killer have wanted to move the body, clearly risking being seen in the process?

“Okay, Cam, we can go back. They’re looking for blood in the soil and such—they’ll probably want prints from your shoes and those of everyone else who was here—maybe you could list who was with you, to see if any other prints can be found. It’s boring to watch in the best of circumstances, and I hear we have a storm coming, so they’ll need to hurry.”

She raised an eyebrow at Jake. They’d heard about the storm front together the night before. She wondered if he just compartmentalized so much he had forgotten that detail. “That’s why we were trying to rush the outside photography.”

A look of recognition crossed his face and his mouth twitched. “How’s Annie doing?”

His grin couldn’t hide his infatuation.

“Great, if she doesn’t kill Ian.”

She regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth.

“What do you mean, Ian? What’s wrong with Ian?”

“He’s an arrogant fool who is bossy and seems to have it in for Annie. Hey, I’ve got a question,” she said, partially as a diversion. “Why would a killer move a body from a hidden, quiet place to a busier place?”

Jake’s face elongated as he thought. “Normally it’s a statement, though it’s also possible, maybe more likely in this case, that it was done to make somebody else look guilty.”

“Like Evangeline?”

He eyed her uncomfortably. “He was found under her
window. So that would be my guess—unless we figure out a message, I mean. Anything meaningful about jasmine or azalea?”

“There’s all sorts of flower lore. I’ll bring you a few pages of highlights later if I find anything.” She doubted there was anything related to bodies left in an azalea bush. She left it at that.

“Are you seeing Annie again?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Supper tonight, I think. It’s a little up in the air because of the investigation.”

Cam smiled bigger. “I hope it works. And don’t let her claim cops are too straight for her. I think you’d be good for her.”

It was Jake’s turn to frown.

“Oh, she didn’t say anything.” She tried hard to reassure him. “I just know. Rules aren’t her strong point.”

Jake sighed. “And she’ll be worried I’m all about rules.”

“Maybe. Aren’t you?” Cam hated it when she stuck her foot in her mouth. She was usually a better navigator of conversation, but Annie’s waters held a lot of obstacles.

Jake looked determined. “Not necessarily. I mean… some rules. But I’m not a goody-two-shoes. So what do you suggest?”

“Maybe something a little wild and avant-garde?”

“So being the gentleman last night totally played into her worries?”

Cam turned and stared. Annie had never said the word “gentleman,” nor had she expressed dissatisfaction about the night. That meant Annie had either misled her or was lying about what she liked.

“Can I get back to you? I’m getting mixed signals.”

“What?”

But Cam darted from Jake, hoping she hadn’t just screwed things up for Annie. She decided she should get back to her job.

The photography quartet was yelling quite loudly, so
once Cam focused her attention, they were easy to locate. She headed in their direction.

“Cam, wait!”

She turned back to find Jake still on her heels.

“I still have people I want to ask about.”

“Right.”

“Let’s have a bite of lunch—official business. Then I can ask all the questions.”

Cam sighed, then nodded. She had to do it eventually. She just wished her first “reveal” had not been to expose her best friend, or that she’d at least have time to give Annie a heads-up.

J
ake drove Cam to 419 West, a nice, middle-of-the-road restaurant that could be dressed up or down, depending on the night and mood.

“I wanted your opinion on whether Annie would like this. I… well, it’s not as arty as she is… but they have live music next weekend.”

Cam smiled encouragingly. “It’s good food. You can’t go wrong. Annie will pick arty places if she wants arty places. It’s more a need for spontaneity now and then that I was warning about. And I’ll write you a list of the places that are too arty, if you know what I mean.”

Jake laughed at that, and then they ordered food and Jake began his more official questions.

“So, Evangeline. What do you know?”

“Former beauty queen. Went to Brown. Married a rich, much older man. I’d like to say that made her a bitch, but evidence runs contrary. She actually seems like a nice lady.”

“You don’t know how she
met
this rich older guy?”

Cam shook her head. “They were newlyweds when I started with the Garden Society, but I’ve never heard the story.”

“Do you know who her friends are? Or were before?”

Cam shook her head again. “I’ve only seen her with the
Garden Society, and all those people are on your list already.”

“Does she know anyone you know? I mean, besides the Gardening… thing?”

“She might. She’s only five or six years older than me, and we’re both from Roanoke originally, so I guess it’s possible we know some of the same people, but… not that I’m aware of.”

“So no other friends?”

Cam’s frown became a sneer. “Like who?” Jake seemed to be after something, but she had no clue what.

“Calm down. I’m just trying to get some background information.”

But Cam no longer felt like that was it. She felt even less comfortable sharing information with Jake as the interview continued, and decided to stick to an “answer only” mode.

“Tell me about your brother-in-law.”

“Nick is the first man I’ve ever known who really treats Petunia like she deserves,” Cam said defensively.

“So she’s been treated badly before?”

This was a subject Cam could go on and on about, but realized how it looked—like Nick might feel Petunia needed protecting. That was a sentiment likely to backfire.

“In the past, but really, nobody has done it since Nick came into her life. It’s like he’s a guardian angel, and so long as he’s there, nobody does anything mean.”

“Are they scared of him?”

“No!” She was annoyed, now; she realized she’d shouted when people at the next table turned to stare. She lowered her voice. “They just know she’s married and to stay away.”

“Calm down, Cam, I get that he’s family. I just want to get a feel.”

“He looks rough, and he was in a punk band, so I’m sure his youth was a little wild, but the whole time I’ve known him—more than four years now—he’s been very sweet and calm.”

Jake nodded but didn’t look convinced.

“He bought Spoons for Petunia! Her lifelong dream and she’d never had a hope!”

“Okay! Nick is a sweetheart. What about Samantha?”

Cam breathed again, suddenly glad to throw some light on Samantha, after feeling so boxed in about Nick. She detailed her thoughts of the day before, though she volunteered nothing until she was asked—she was rather annoyed with Jake and couldn’t make herself cooperate any more than she absolutely had to. She instinctively felt a little protective of Samantha, but it was a very detached protectiveness compared to what she felt about Nick. It was much easier to reveal what she’d seen and what she knew about her colleague than it had been to speculate about her brother-in-law, and a guilty sense of relief washed over her when Jake seemed to find her theory about Samantha having a history with Jean-Jacques plausible.

“When do you talk to her?” Cam asked as the questions seemed to wind down.

“I go there next, though a couple of evidence boys went this morning—Jean-Jacques was staying there.”

Had Cam not just learned that herself, she might have been shocked.

Jake looked at his watch and must have decided it was time to hurry, as he jumped back into questions Cam had thought he was done with.

“Does Evangeline know your brother-in-law?”

Cam started to shake her head, then remembered the “Jack” episode and finally thought she understood what Jake had been getting at earlier.

“Maybe, but at the party at Samantha’s she called him Jack, so… not well. She acted like she knew him, but she used the wrong name. Nick didn’t really answer. He seemed uncomfortable, like maybe it was a mistake.”

“Or maybe he didn’t want you and Petunia to know they knew each other?”

Cam frowned, remembering Nick’s expression.

Jake asked a few more questions about Evangeline but
then went on to other Garden Society members. He asked about Neil Patrick, whom Cam praised, then Joseph Sadler-Neff, who was a little harder to put into words.

“He’s brilliant, knowledgewise, but a little socially inept. There is something a little off. I mean he’s polite—obsessive, in fact, about manners. But he doesn’t really relate to people, so he’s hard to know.”

“That explains some things.”

“Like what?”

“Just… odd behavior seen by some of the others.”

“What others?”

“Cam, I’m not at liberty…”

Cam rolled her eyes irritably. Joseph’s awkward social skills did explain a lot, so the “odd behavior” that “the others” had referred to could be any number of things, but Cam wasn’t happy about Jake’s evasive answers.

She was relieved when Jake finally put his notebook away, drove her back to La Fontaine, and left for Samantha’s house. She hadn’t liked being questioned about people for whom she felt so responsible.

“C
am, there you are!” Madeline Leclerc rushed at Cam as soon as she arrived.

She’d almost forgotten her boss in the chaos.

“Hi, Madeline. What’s up?”

“Just… I’m
sure
nobody in the Roanoke Garden Society had anything to do with this. It’s
very
important any questions you answer support that!”

Cam stared at Madeline, thinking she was supposed to read between the lines of what her boss had just said. She thought back to Madeline’s demeanor at the previous day’s meeting of the Garden Society officers, at how desperate she’d been for the photo shoot to go on, and it occurred to her that Madeline would just as soon she made stuff up.

“I certainly would never make anybody look guilty on purpose.”

“Camellia, you and I don’t have jobs if there is no Roanoke Garden Society.”

Cam had worked that much out on her own, but she suspected Madeline thought a single guilty party among the RGS members was a condemnation for the lot of them—something
she
didn’t believe.

“I swear I won’t point any undue fingers.”

Madeline pursed her lips.

“No fingers at all. RGS needs to come out of this smelling like roses.”

“Fine. I’ll do my best.”

Cam thought a cover-up had far greater chances of backfiring than any truth, but at the moment, since nothing was known, there was no need to argue yet. She was just glad Madeline was leaving for the time being.

C
am was relieved to finally get inside. Just as she found a quiet corner to breathe for a minute, however, she heard the sputter of Petunia’s minivan. It backfired, as it did more often than not when it stopped, announcing Petunia’s arrival. Curiosity got the better of her, and under the guise of helping with lunch, Cam went out to assault her sister with questions.

“You having a dry spell in there?” Petunia eyed her suspiciously.

“Oh, there’s plenty to do, but you’re more important at the moment.”

Petunia pulled her head out of the back of the minivan and stared at Cam, disbelief etched on her forehead.

“There’s a first.”

Cam pushed her way forward and grabbed the salad bowls as Petunia seemed to possess the only hot pads. She followed Petunia through the house to the patio, food in hands.

“Oh.” Petunia looked at Cam as she set the bowls down and rolled her eyes. “That was heavy.”

“Everything else was hot. What was I supposed to do?”

“Get towels from the passenger seat.”

“And I would know those were there, how?”

Petunia rolled her eyes again, but Cam followed her back outside anyway. She grabbed two towels from the front seat and helped with the rest of the hot food, though now Petunia complained that the drinks were the heavy part and Cam was slacking by not helping with those. Cam persisted, however, and followed Petunia back out again when lunch was deposited.

“What?”

“Sheesh, don’t have kittens. Towels?” Cam handed Petunia back her towels.

“You would have stopped me on the back porch if that was all. What is it?”

Cam felt tongue-tied but finally just spit it out. “Did you know Nick was an ex-con?”

Petunia’s eyes flashed with fear, not surprise. She looked around, then swore. While Cam swore like an off-duty school teacher, Petunia swore like an off-land sailor. Cam didn’t even recognize some of the words. “How’d you find out?” she finally asked.