Wild & Hexy (30 page)

Sean looked down at the floor, and when he glanced up again, there was a cat-who-ate-the-canary look on his face.

‘‘Maggie’s pregnant?’’

Sean seemed to be smiling all over. ‘‘That’s what the home kit says. Of course we want her to get the official word from Doc Pritchard. She has an appointment tomorrow.’’

Jeremy clapped him on the back. ‘‘That’s great, just great. Congratulations.’’

Sean held up the bottle of wine. ‘‘She won’t be able to have this, and I wouldn’t feel right drinking it in front of her when she loves it so much. You might want to find someone else to give it to.’’

‘‘We can figure that out later. Right now Megabyte and I want to see the baby’s room.’’

‘‘Right this way.’’ Sean led Jeremy and Meg through the living room with its cozy overstuffed furniture and up the massive staircase to the second floor. A light was on in the small room next to the master bedroom. ‘‘Maggie did most of the actual decorating. I just finished putting in a window seat, and she’ll need to get a cushion for it, but otherwise the room’s done.’’

Jeremy followed Sean into the tiny room, and Megabyte came too. The three of them nearly filled the space, but a kid’s room didn’t need to be big. Jeremy’s chest tightened as he realized how far he was from this point. He hadn’t known he wanted kids, but seeing this room made it obvious he did.

The walls were pale lavender, and one of them was covered with a fantasy mural of what looked like elves and fairies dancing in the clearing of a mist-shrouded forest. Wildflowers bloomed everywhere and a couple of unicorns could be seen through the trees.

Jeremy studied it. ‘‘This is pretty. Who did it?’’

‘‘Maggie. She insisted on painting that wall with all sorts of magic stuff. I didn’t know she could draw, but she’s great at it. I think there’s even a cute little dragon in there somewhere. Whatever turns her on is fine with me.’’

Jeremy gazed at him. ‘‘Has she said anything to you about something living in Deep Lake?’’

‘‘You mean that creature Donald Jenkins keeps yapping about? Not really. I’m sure she thinks like everyone else, that it’s Jenkins’s way of getting attention.’’

‘‘Have you ever asked her if she’s seen anything in the lake?’’

Sean studied him. ‘‘You were just there, weren’t you? Did you see something?’’

‘‘No, but Annie claims she did. And Dorcas and Ambrose both think there’s something there.’’

‘‘Really.’’
Sean rubbed his jaw. ‘‘When did they say this?’’

‘‘Apparently Dorcas admitted as much to Annie on Wednesday night during the bachelorette party. Then tonight, Annie snapped a picture of it, and we took it over to Dorcas and Ambrose so they could—’’

‘‘Whoa, whoa. You’re saying there’s an actual picture of this thing? Who has it now?’’

‘‘Annie, and it’s a lousy picture. But that’s not the point, Sean. The point is that I’m convinced Dorcas and Ambrose either built the creature or had someone do it for them. Somehow they operate it from their house, and they’re trying to get Annie to write it up for the
Trib
.’’

Sean looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. ‘‘That makes no sense, buddy. Why in hell would they do something so ridiculous?’’

‘‘To create a Loch Ness monster type of tourist attraction and clean up. They’re situated in the perfect spot to have the restaurant, the gift shop, the—’’

‘‘No, that’s not like them. They would hate that kind of commotion. I don’t know where you got that idea, but I can’t believe they would come up with a scheme like that.’’

‘‘Or you don’t want to believe it because Maggie works for them.’’

‘‘Yes, she sure does, and she loves those two people. She wants them to be the godmother and godfather to our baby.’’

‘‘You might want to rethink that.’’

Sean shook his head. ‘‘Not if I want to stay married, I don’t.’’

‘‘Hey, I know it could cause problems with your situation, but something’s going on down there.’’

‘‘Apparently, if Annie took a picture. Look, I don’t know if there’s really some creature in the lake or it’s kids playing a prank, but I can guarantee that Dorcas and Ambrose are not trying to build themselves a Loch Ness monster tourist business.’’

Jeremy sighed. ‘‘Okay, but when the shit hits the fan, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’’

‘‘If the Lowells are scam artists, I’m Bugs Bunny.’’

Jeremy gazed at him. ‘‘What’s up, doc?’’

After a quick cup of coffee, Annie drove over to Beaucoup Bouquets. Skipping breakfast wasn’t a hardship. When Zach had bailed on their marriage, she’d eaten every carb in sight, but ending her affair with Jeremy had left her with no appetite at all. Lousy feeling, but a great weight-loss program.

She had to handle this flower situation quickly because she was due at the Loudermilks’ house at ten. She couldn’t imagine what was going on with the wedding bouquets, but Gwen had sounded frantic. She’d stammered something about odd-shaped growths on the roses, and yet they’d looked fine earlier in the week. They were in a greenhouse, so that ruled out weather issues and bugs.

Annie’s mom had asked her to handle this crisis because Melody was embroiled in a fight with Bruce over the rehearsal dinner. The Millers, aka Bruce’s parents, didn’t want to pay for wine to be brought over to the Hob Knob from the Big Knobian Tavern, and Melody was insisting on serving wine. Bruce had offered to pay for it, but Melody wouldn’t let him because she thought the wine issue was a sign that his parents didn’t really support this marriage.

In other words, typical day-before-the-wedding drama. Annie remembered having a huge fight with Zach over whether she’d wear his mother’s pearls with her wedding dress. His mother had been reluctant, but Zach had pushed the issue. Annie had worn them against her better judgment, and of course the string had broken halfway through the ceremony, scattering pearls everywhere. She should have taken it as a sign.

By some miracle she hadn’t run into any of Zach’s relatives so far this visit. Then again, she hadn’t spent much time in the shops on the square, which is where most people met. She hadn’t yet eaten a meal at the Hob Knob or browsed through the Big Knob Bookstore. Tomorrow morning the female members of the wedding party would gather at the Bob and Weave for the hair and nail appointment, and Annie would get all the town gossip then.

Chances were excellent that she and Jeremy were one of the hot topics of conversation. She dreaded the questions that were bound to come her way, but she’d stirred up the gossip, so she couldn’t complain about it. Less than three days to go. She planned to stay until dusk on Sunday and hope to hell she got a decent picture of the lake monster. Then she’d blow this popcorn stand.

She parked her car in front of the flower shop, which was located on the corner of Fourth and First. As she got out, she glanced across First and noticed Maggie Madigan headed into Doc Pritchard’s office. If she remembered correctly, everyone expected Maggie to get pregnant any day now. Maybe she had and was going for her first checkup.

Annie felt an unexpected pang of regret. The idea of having kids had been pushed way to the back of her mind. Zach hadn’t wanted a pet, let alone a kid, and Annie had been content to focus on her TV career.

Now that she’d ruled out marriage for the time being, kids were really a long way off. Most likely Melody would present their mother with the first grandchild. That should make Melody happy, to finally get the jump on Annie in something.

A bell rang over the door when Annie opened it, and Gwen hurried in from the side door that led to the greenhouse.

Gwen looked frazzled. ‘‘I’ve never seen anything like this,’’ she said. ‘‘Every single white rose is affected.’’

‘‘Affected how?’’

‘‘You’ll have to come and see.’’ Gwen pushed open the door into the greenhouse and led the way down the aisle, which was lined with every kind of flower imaginable.

Besides being a riot of color, the greenhouse was warm and moist. No wonder Gwen’s complexion always looked so good. She spent her days in a sauna. Annie breathed in the mixture of sweet floral scent and damp potting soil. She could understand the appeal of this job.

‘‘Look at this.’’ Gwen stopped in front of the white roses that Melody had chosen for her bouquet.

Annie glanced at the roses and gasped. ‘‘What part is that called? I learned it in biology, but I—’’

‘‘Those are the stamens, the male part of the flower.’’

‘‘They certainly are . . . male.’’ Annie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Three-inch, penis-shaped stamens poked boldly out of every rose. ‘‘Is it a mutation?’’

‘‘I have no idea. I came out here this morning to water and there they were, flashing me. If we were going with, say, orchids, it might not be so obvious, but usually you don’t even see the stamens on roses until the buds are fully opened. These are still semi-closed and—’’

‘‘Erect.’’

Gwen nodded. ‘‘Yeeesss.’’

‘‘How about going the Lorena Bobbitt route?’’

‘‘Tried that.’’ Gwen held up a wilted rose. ‘‘This happens. I’m glad you’re here instead of Melody. She’d flip.’’

‘‘Yes, she would.’’ Annie felt a giggle coming on, and she swallowed it. ‘‘I guess you’ll have to substitute a different color.’’

‘‘She was very specific about white.’’

Annie glanced at her. ‘‘Yes, I know, but you can’t have her walking down the aisle with those things’’— she paused to clear her throat—‘‘waving in the breeze.’’

‘‘Probably not.’’ Gwen stared at Annie and her face grew pink. Then she clapped her hand over her mouth as a snort of laughter escaped.

That was all it took. Annie lost it, too, and they both cackled like fiends, alternately holding their stomachs and pointing at the offending flowers.

‘‘I would give
anything
to see that,’’ Annie said. ‘‘Can you imagine? Everyone stands up and turns around as the bridesmaids come in, and then they look at the bouquets and see . . .’’ She dissolved into laughter again.

‘‘The Full Monty!’’
Gwen wiped the tears streaming down her face. Then she held up her hand. ‘‘Shh. I think I just heard the shop bell.’’

‘‘Hello!’’ called a woman from the shop. ‘‘Anybody here?’’

‘‘I’ll be right out,’’ Gwen called back. She took a tissue out of her apron pocket and blew her nose. ‘‘I haven’t laughed so hard in ages. But I still have a small problem, here.’’

‘‘A three-inch problem.’’

‘‘Stop it.’’ Gwen grinned, and then she hiccuped. ‘‘I have a customer to deal with. I’ll be right back.’’

‘‘I’ll wait here. And think of solutions.’’ Once Gwen left, Annie reached out to touch one of the stamens, and damned if it didn’t seem to enlarge. She touched another one, and the same thing happened. What in hell was going on?

She heard Gwen in the shop explaining to the customer that she had no white roses available. How weird that someone would come in this morning and ask for them. Annie thought she recognized the voice, but she couldn’t remember from where.

‘‘Let me at least look at them,’’ the woman said, and Isabel walked through the greenhouse door. Today she wore a long purple skirt slit up to midthigh and a low-necked white peasant blouse. ‘‘Oh, hello, Annie. I didn’t realize you were here.’’

Gwen followed close behind Isabel. ‘‘Annie’s helping me figure out what to do about the white ones, which we’d planned to use for the wedding bouquets tomorrow.’’ She avoided looking at Annie. ‘‘I could fix you a nice arrangement of yellow, or perhaps pink.’’

‘‘I prefer white. I—oh,
my
.’’ Isabel’s eyes widened. ‘‘How in the world did you accomplish that?’’

‘‘I didn’t,’’ Gwen said. ‘‘It happened overnight.’’

‘‘Indeed.’’ Isabel moved closer. ‘‘I like it.’’

Annie and Gwen exchanged a glance and looked quickly away again.

Isabel reached out toward one of the roses and Annie caught her wrist. ‘‘You might not want to do that.’’

‘‘Why not?’’

‘‘It makes them get bigger.’’

Gwen gasped. ‘‘Bigger?’’

‘‘Watch.’’ Annie let go of Isabel and touched one of the stamens. It quivered and enlarged.

Behind her glasses, Gwen’s eyes looked enormous. ‘‘Oh . . . my . . . God.’’

‘‘This is my kind of flower!’’ Isabel stroked a stamen and laughed. ‘‘Give me two dozen.’’

‘‘I’d rather not sell them,’’ Gwen said.

‘‘Not sell them? Are you insane? Figure out how you did this and you could make a fortune.’’

‘‘That’s just it. I don’t know what happened, and there could be some kind of plant weirdness going on.’’

Isabel shook her head. ‘‘You need to loosen up, girl. I sense some sexual repression going on.’’

‘‘This has nothing to do with sex.’’ Gwen sent a pleading glance in Annie’s direction. ‘‘Whatever it is, I need to keep it contained in this greenhouse.’’

‘‘She’s right,’’ Annie said. ‘‘If she lets these go out the door, she could have the Department of Agriculture breathing down her neck. She’s a small business owner. She doesn’t need that kind of grief.’’

‘‘Oh, all right.’’ Isabel glanced around the greenhouse. ‘‘Let me have some of those yellow ones, then. Just a dozen in whatever cheap vase you can find.’’

‘‘All right. You might be more comfortable waiting in the shop.’’

‘‘I’m sure I would. And Annie will come keep me company, won’t you, Annie?’’

‘‘Uh, sure.’’ Annie was willing to make conversation if it kept Gwen’s customer happy.

Leaving Gwen to gather what she needed for the arrangement, Annie and Isabel walked back into the shop. Isabel took a seat on one of the stools beside the counter where Gwen kept all the catalogs. Annie decided to stand.

‘‘You’re a reporter, aren’t you?’’ Isabel said.