Cornflowers and Corpses Read online

  "Yes but the evidence doesn't line up with that theory. Somehow, the gun landed in Bertram's hand. She couldn't have killed herself and planted it there."

  The smell of grilled onions and pickles wafted our way. Franki carried our plates to the table, including an extra plate that was filled with a tower of crisp golden fries. Franki set the fries down between us.

  "Anything else?" Franki looked directly at Marty, so I could only assume she wasn't interested in my possible needs.

  "No, this looks delicious, Franki." He grinned up at her, and she looked close to melting like butter.

  "Just holler if you need something," she said as she walked away, adding in another wink for good measure.

  Marty pushed the plate of fries closer to me. "The potatoes look good, crispy the way I like them. How about you?"

  "Yep, crispy and golden." I plucked one off the top. "And, may I add, being your friend sure comes with a lot of perks, Marty Tate."

  Chapter 5

  I'd only been gone from the shop for an hour, but apparently, it had been long enough for Barbara to take the initiative to move things around more to her liking. The rolling steel shelves that held a wide variety of vases and ceramic pots had been rearranged not by color, like I'd placed them in, but by size. The small display of decorative greeting cards had been physically picked up and moved to the other side of the center island. It was hard to know what the reasoning was behind the move, but it seemed Barbara knew. She stood proudly with her arms crossed and a confident grin plastered across her face as I took in the numerous changes she'd managed during my lunch break.

  Amelia, on the other hand, crinkled small and quietly near the front window and next to a noticeably empty bird perch. She seemed to be waiting anxiously for my reaction. I was determined not to overreact. However, I was gritting my teeth hard enough to feel several grains of French fry salt lodged in a back molar.

  "What do you think?" Barbara asked enthusiastically. "People have told me I'm a master at time and flow management. They were simple changes, really, but I think you'll find the work flow is much smoother."

  I forced a smile. "Except that I was used to the other flow, the flow that's been in place for the last two years." It was like rearranging a kitchen and spending months going to the wrong drawer for the wooden spoon and the wrong cabinet for a glass.

  Barbara waved off my comment. "You'll get used to it soon enough, then you'll see that my way is best."

  I flicked a look Amelia's direction. Wide eyes stared out of a stone stiff face. Amelia shrugged so slightly, it would have been easy to miss. She didn't know what to think, apparently. But I did. My newest assistant was a control freak. Everything had to be done her way. I'd known more than one in my life, including my dear friend, Elsie. But it wasn't a bother when the controlling person wasn't trying to change me or my life or my store. This was a little harder to swallow. My mind swished quickly away from the notion of firing Barbara. I needed her skills. She knew she'd been hired on as a temporary position until my regular assistant returned, my wonderful, incredible and greatly missed regular assistant.

  "We'll give your way a try," I said weakly. "Both of you can take your lunch now. I'll manage the shop alone." Again, my gaze floated Amelia's direction. She seemed to be signaling something with her eyes and the tilt of her head. She was pointing out the empty perch. She was worried about Kingston.

  "When did Kingston go out?" I asked.

  "Right after you left," Amelia said abruptly. The look of worry on her face intensified.

  Barbara didn't notice. She hurried into the office to get her purse, then swept back out. "I'm off. I'll be back in exactly forty-five minutes." And I had no doubt it would be exactly forty-five.

  The door shut behind Barbara and I turned to Amelia.

  "What's wrong?" I asked Amelia.

  She finally took a breath that she must have been holding forever. "First of all, I tried to tell her not to move things, but she insisted she knew better." There was an eye roll added to her comment.

  I glanced toward the door to make sure Barbara hadn't returned for something. "It seems like there's more you want to tell me."

  Amelia chewed on her bottom lip as she rubbed her hands together. That sinking feeling you get when you realize you've made a big mistake started to weigh down on me.

  "It's just that—as soon as you left, Barbara insisted King should go outside. She said she wasn't comfortable with him lurking around while you were out. I told her he was perfectly harmless and friendly, but as I've already noted, she thinks she's always right. Well, King wasn't really in the mood to go out, so she sort of chased him out."

  "Chased him out?" I asked. "You mean she ran after him?"

  She nodded. "With a broom," she added grimly. "She didn't hit him, of course. She just used it to sort of shoo him out the door."

  I sighed loudly. "Why would she do that? Poor King. He is probably sulking somewhere in a tree. I'm going to go out and look for him. Can you delay your lunch for fifteen minutes?"

  Her mood brightened. "Of course. Yes, go find the poor guy. Then I can apologize to him. I should have wrenched that broom right from her hands. Are you going to fire Barbara?" she asked hesitantly.

  "I don't know. I really need her help, but I'm definitely going to mention her treatment of Kingston." That statement rightly caused a fretful look on Amelia's face. "Don't worry. I won't even mention the broom. I'm just going to let her know that only I can let Kingston out of the shop. Hopefully, that will stop her from chasing him out. Now, I better head out and find him."

  I had a few of his favorite places on my first spots to look list. If he was in a bad mood, chances were, he would head across the street and wait for Lola to let him into her shop. His big crush on my best friend made her store his favorite go to place. He also loved the table area outside of Elsie's bakery where he could indulge himself in a variety of pastry, muffin and scone crumbs. I turned that direction first and got lucky. My feathered friend was skittering beneath the tables, head down and beak fully ready to pluck up crumbs. He took a second to glance at me over his shiny black shoulder but then returned to his feast. It seemed he had weathered the incident without too many mental scars. I credited Elsie's cookie crumbs for saving the day.

  A customer walked out and a swirl of lemon, butter and something more floral, lavender if I had to guess, floated out. (Only with my nose it wasn't really a guess.) It was lavender, an unusual scent that was usually more prevalent on my section of sidewalk than Elsie's. I left my crow to his crumb binge, the human equivalent, I supposed, of a pint of butter pecan ice cream after a breakup.

  I opened the bakery door and was further pummeled with the lemon, lavender mixture. Elsie was placing a delicate, dove-shaped shortbread cookie into a cellophane bag. She glanced up only for a second and set to work tying the cookie bag up with a piece of lavender ribbon.

  "Your timing is astounding. How did you know I have some broken shortbread cookies waiting to be tasted?" she asked.

  "It's not all that astounding considering you always have something ready for a taste test when I walk in. Am I smelling lemon and lavender in addition to the butter and sugar?"

  "You sure are." Elsie nodded and picked up another bird-shaped cookie. "I thought I'd liven things up a bit by adding lemon and lavender to my usual shortbread dough." She picked up a cookie that was shaped like a wing. "I think they turned out great."

  I reached for the tender, crumbly cookie and ran it past my nose. "Fragrant." I took a bite and spoke past the cookie in my mouth. "Delicious," I mumbled and swallowed. "Tastes like summer. I think the bird people will love them."

  Elsie laughed. "Bird people. Sounds like they should be walking around with wings tied to their backs and tail feathers sticking out of their pants." She motioned to her front window. "Speaking of birds—why does yours look so sullen? I walked out there to say hello and give him a peanut butter treat. He took it with hardly a glance my direction, as if he wa
sn't interested in any chat."

  I looked back past the sumptuous chocolate cake in Elsie's front window and out to the sitting area. Kingston was squatting, looking lonely and sad, beneath one of the chairs. I turned back to Elsie.

  "Apparently, my new assistant doesn't appreciate how extraordinary Kingston is. She shooed him out with a broom while I was at lunch."

  Elsie nearly dropped the cookie she was holding. "Well, you'll have to fire her. How dare she do that to Kingston."

  "I'm going to speak to her after she gets back from lunch. She also rearranged my shop while I was out."

  She lowered the cellophane bag as her chin dropped open. "I wouldn't just fire her, I'd have her arrested."

  I laughed. "Arrested? Might be a little extreme for someone who rearranged vases and ceramic pots."

  Elsie shook her head. "If someone came in here and tried to rearrange my bakery, I would spit fire through this nose and steam would come out of my ears."

  "Pretty visual you've laid out, but I know you're not over exaggerating. Fortunately, I'm not quite as set in my ways as you. Still, I'm going to talk to her. But I'm not ready to fire her. She is great with flower arranging. A little too picky and an annoying perfectionist but she's fast and efficient, just what I need right now. And after a string of terrible hires, I'm not that anxious to start the search again."

  Elsie did a poor job of holding back a smile. "You mean it's hard to find a good assistant? I don't know what you're talking about. See, you just got remarkably lucky when Ryder walked into the flower shop."

  "I see that more than ever now. I will no longer tease you, but I still say you are way pickier than me. Like you said, Barbara would have been long gone, forced out by flaming nostrils, apparently, and yet I intend to keep her on. But I will let her know that she can't treat Kingston badly. She needs to learn to ignore his presence and accept that he is an important part of the shop. I need to get back so Amelia can go to lunch. At least she has worked out. The customers love her." I turned to leave but stopped. "By the way, are we still heading over to the bird convention later? I think it might be interesting. Maybe they have a book on making your crow feel better if his self confidence has been shattered by a mean lady with a broom."

  Elsie chuckled at that notion. "I'll be ready to go after I close up for the night. I need to deliver the cookies this evening."

  "Great. I'll see you at closing then. Now, I'll head back to my shop and ignore all the annoying changes Barbara made. Hopefully, my bird will follow me, otherwise your bakery might have a new feathered fixture."

  "Wait." Elsie walked over to the dog treat jar and pulled one out. She tossed it to me. "Lure him back with one of these."

  "Thanks." I walked out. Kingston was still squatting and pouting underneath a chair. I held up the cookie, and he hopped up with a new look of enthusiasm. "Come on, King. Sometimes you just have to ignore humans. We tend to be an ignorant lot." I heard his tiny talons tap the cement sidewalk as he trotted behind me and the peanut butter treat. I was definitely not pleased with Barbara, but I just couldn't take the time to look for another assistant. I would have to swallow back the bitter taste and look past her many flaws. I couldn't let down my customers.

  Chapter 6

  The convention for bird enthusiasts was set up in the large Mayfield Auditorium that sat directly across from the town hall and public library. The parking lot was nearly filled to capacity as Elsie pulled in.

  "Who knew a bird convention could attract so many visitors?" Elsie said.

  "Guess there are more ornithology minded people than we realized." My own personal matters concerning birds, and one in particular, had been straightened out. Or, at least, I hoped that was the case. I'd made clear to Barbara that Kingston was to be treated as a member of the staff and that I was the only person who could let him outside. Her face was pinched and her mouth pursed throughout our one-sided chat, but in the end, she nodded and said she would not let him outside ever again. That was the end of the conversation. I considered letting her know that I didn't appreciate her moving my things around but then decided one lecture a day was enough. I could put up with a few changes in order to have good help. I foolishly told my latter decision to Elsie and had to be on the receiving end of a lecture about being far too soft with my employees. I told her if that's what it took to have a talented flower arranger, then I was willing to accept that I was a pushover.

  The summer sun was still high enough in the sky to give a nice kiss of warmth to the early evening air. Elsie opened her trunk and handed me a box of cookies, then she grabbed the second box. "My contact here is Minnie Sherman. She's the club treasurer. She told me she'd be in the tiny office space near the stage and across from the bird toy vendor. Maybe a nice toy will cheer up that crow of yours," she suggested.

  "He was cheery enough once Barbara left for the day. But boy did he keep his beady black eyes fixed on her for the entire afternoon. It probably wasn't the best move to ingratiate himself into her friend circle, but you know King. He holds a grudge."

  "He's also a good judge of character. In his Edgar Allen Poe sort of way, he is cryptically trying to tell you something evil is afoot and its name is Barbara." We walked through a maze of parked cars and vans toward the entrance of the auditorium.

  "Barbara is not evil. She is just controlling, and she doesn't care for crows. But until her bad traits outweigh the good, and by good, I mean her ability to create bouquets, she will remain at the shop."

  Elsie shifted the box to one arm and opened the auditorium door. The roar of voices inside the cavernous room was nearly deafening. Elsie had to practically yell. "Boy, these bird people are boisterous. Let's head up toward the stage. That's where Minnie should be sitting. I texted her that I was on my way with the cookies."

  I strolled along with the box but found it hard to focus on our mission of cookie delivery. There were so many interesting gadgets and trinkets related to the hobby and science of bird watching. We walked down an aisle that was lined with kiosks displaying a variety of tech devices to assist the avid bird enthusiast. One seller was demonstrating how to use a monocular device with a smart phone to get the perfect picture. It was small and sleek like a mini telescope and allowed the user to take a crystal clear photo of a bird a thousand feet away. There were stylish backpacks that allowed you to carry all your equipment easily and safely on your trek through the wilds. One kiosk was set up with a black canvas tent where attendees could walk inside and try out a night vision monocular for sighting those mysterious nocturnal flying creatures. There were spinning racks of outdoor gear and earthy colored hats to protect heads while not alarming the birds. One woman proudly displayed colorful all-weather personal field notebooks that allowed users to take them out in the middle of a rainstorm without the notebooks getting ruined.

  As we neared the stage area, we passed the largest and most heavily trafficked kiosk. I stopped to gawk at the colorful display of bird toys. The owners of the company had brought two macaw parrots along to assist with demonstrations, which explained why it was the most popular booth.

  It took Elsie a few of her purposeful, fast steps to notice that her cookie partner had stopped. She backed up. "We can look at this stuff on the way out. I need to catch Minnie in the office."

  I nodded but couldn't pull my gaze from the incredible displays. Colorful geometric blocks of wood hung from a peg board overhead. Bells rang softly from the ends of brightly colored ropes. There were even yellow, blue and orange wheels that a bird could swing on or ride around like a Ferris wheel. "It's like an amusement park for birds. Look at that hammock. Couldn't you just see Kingston lounging in his little hammock in the shop window?"

  "Just what he needs." Elsie tugged me along. "If I'd known it was going to be like taking a kid into a candy shop, I would have delivered these myself."

  I trekked begrudgingly alongside her. "I had no idea how much fun this place would be. Maybe I should take up bird watching. There are so many neat to
ols and gadgets to go along with it."

  The stage area was a large, glossy platform with a massive screen hanging at the back. Metal folding chairs were being placed in a semi-circle around the platform so that the screen could be seen from any angle. A projector and laptop were being set up for a presentation. A poster proclaimed that Nora Banks, the woman who had posted a flyer in my shop, would be presenting a slideshow that contained a special surprise.

  "A special surprise," I muttered to my uninterested friend. "I'll bet it's a photo of a rare bird."

  "You've already got a rare bird," Elsie quipped. A thick door was sitting slightly open just feet from the stage. Elsie tapped it with her knuckles, and a woman's voice invited us in.

  The small utility room had been set up with a table and a computer. The entire room was heavy with the scent of the orange the woman sitting behind the table was eating. A pile of bright orange peels sat next to a metal box, the kind used to keep money.

  The sixty-something woman had gray hair with pink streaks. Large gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears. Her bright orange lipstick matched the pile of orange peels. Her blue eyes landed on the boxes we were carrying. She took a deep whiff. "Wow, the orange I'm eating smells so strong that I can barely smell the cookies. You're Elsie, I presume. I'm Minnie Sherman, treasurer of the West Coast Bird Watching Society."

  Elsie and I placed our boxes on the table as Minnie reached across to shake hands. I didn't have to smell my hand to know she'd left behind a citrusy scent.

  Elsie opened a box and lifted out a cellophane bag. She had packed each individual cookie in its own treat bag and tied it off with a lavender ribbon to go with the taste of the cookie.

  The room was lit only by the glow on the computer and the light coming in from the crowded auditorium. Minnie picked a pair of glittery gold glasses up off her chest where they hung from an equally glittery chain. She put the glasses on and held up the cookie package, turning it back and forth to get a good look at the beautiful cookie inside.