Larkspur (20 page)

I took the criticism meekly and went out front. The customer was deliberating between
the Pacific Crest Trail and Siskiyou Pathways, two of my better maps. I turned the Closed sign
around while Ginger dealt with her. She finally left. I was explaining to Ginger when Ma came
in.

"When does Annie show up?"

"Any time now."

"We'll take her to lunch. Where do you suggest, Ginger?"

Ginger was flattered to be consulted, and they deliberated over restaurants while I
lettered a sign with felt marker on the back a promotional poster. "Larkspur Books will reopen
Monday, July 15." What was it about July 15? Something. It wouldn't come. I was even groggier
than I had thought I was.

Annie bounced in the back door and had to be comforted with the promise of
compensatory hours the next week. She cheered up when Ma announced we were lunching at
Wind Song, a posh place that overlooks Beale Creek. Annie had never eaten there.

Lunch was not jolly. Ginger poked at a salad. Ma was concerned for Domingo and
worried about what a new wave of sightseers and souvenir hunters might do to the lodge. I kept
thinking about Miguel. Annie ate a lot of manicotti.

We dropped her at her car and headed back out Beale Creek Road. Denise's small house
lay about halfway between D'Angelo's apartment complex and the Huffs' rural enclave. A side
road wound uphill and dead-ended in a paved turn-around. Three driveways gave on the
cul-de-sac. One led to an unfinished cabin, one to a new executive palace, and the third, rather narrow
and overhung with evergreens, to Denise's hideaway. I could hear the high whine of a power saw
from the direction of the cabin, but otherwise there were no signs of life.

Denise had bought the house when it as just an isolated farmhouse. I think she had
subdivided the property, though I'd heard her complain that her neighbors violated her
solitude.

I parked in the driveway by her small garage, and we got out. She had had the good
sense not to modernize the house. It was a classic frame structure with a wide, roofed porch. She
had had the house painted an uncompromising and correct white with gray trim. Nasturtiums and
snapdragons rioted along the walk. Baskets of fuchsias in full bloom hung from the roof of the
porch.

Ginger wanted to lag. I made her go ahead of us and ring the doorbell. We stood. No
answer. Ginger rang again. Silence.

Ginger's mouth quivered. "She's doing it on purpose!"

"Lydia Huff said something about a new gazebo around back. If Denise fed her friend
lunch, maybe she's there cleaning up."

There were tears in Ginger's eyes. Ma had drifted over to look at the porch swing.

"I'll go see if I can find her, Ginge. Cheer up. You don't want to let her see she's upset
you."

Ginger sniffed.

"And ring the bell again. Lean on it."

"Okay."

I followed the porch around the side of the house. Steps led down from a side door to a
flagged footpath. I walked on around the back.

The Chinese delphiniums caught my eye first. Denise had planted them in solid masses
to hide the concrete base of the gazebo. The tips flared deep blue against the unweathered russet
of the redwood structure.

"Denise?"

No answer.

A pure white cat stalked around the edge of the steps. The movement startled me.
"Hello, puss. Who's here?"

The cat gave me a cold stare and stalked off.

I squinted into the folly. Denise had already trained a vine up the trellised side. I thought
I saw a patch of the flowered fabric of her lounging pajamas. As I opened my mouth to call to her
a tiny breeze puffed. I smelled something fetid.

I didn't know what was wrong but something was. My pulse hammered. "Denise..." I
took the steps in a single stride.

She was lying behind the small redwood table at the center of the gazebo, an overturned
chair beside her. I took another step and saw her face. It was dusky with suffused blood, and her
tongue protruded. In the moment of death her body had voided. I caught the stench full
force.

I took two cat steps backwards and bumped the trellis. My mind had gone so still I could
not have screamed, and I think my heart stopped. Then it thudded into action, and the adrenalin
started to flow.

I thought of the two women waiting for me on the porch. I did not want them to see this
horror. And part of my concern was that the crumpled body violated everything Denise had been.
It was obscenely graceless.

I backed down the stairs and stood on the flagged walk, breathing through my mouth.
The white cat crossed intensely green lawn. A bee bumbled past. I walked, stone by stone, around
the house, and I took the steps to the porch, leaning on the rail like an old woman.

"What is it?"

"She's there. Dead."

I remember their eyes--so wide they were rimmed white. I was still holding the rail and a
good thing, too, because I almost passed out.

I breathed in, held it. Light returned. "Denise was strangled. It's ugly. Don't go back
there!" That to Ma who rose from the swing. "Both of you stay right where you are. I'm going to
have to call the sheriff's office." I hoped Jay was in.

Ma and Ginger exchanged looks. Ginger whimpered.

"But shouldn't we..." Ma started.

"No. Don't move. Maybe the door's unlocked." I tried it, and it opened easily. "I'm going
to call."

Denise's salon--more than a living room--was superbly furnished in antiques, mostly
rosewood, with a soft pale-blue rug on the polished hardwood floor. The phone sat on a whatnot
table. I picked up the receiver, got a dial tone, and went blank. Finally my fingers poked 911, and
I heard myself asking for the sheriff's office.

Beth, the dispatcher, recognized my voice. When I had croaked out an explanation, she
agreed to transfer me to Jay while she sent a call for one of the patrol cars. Denise's house was
deep in county territory, at least ten miles outside the city's jurisdiction. Jay answered on the third
ring.

"It's Lark. Denise has been murdered."

"What...where are you?"

"At Denise's house. Beth's sending a car. Please come. I'm scared. I have Ginger and Ma
with me."

"You're sure she's dead?"

"Oh, God, Jay, her face is purple." I swallowed hard. "And she stinks..."

"Don't touch anything, Lark. I'm on my way."

"Th-thanks." I hung up. I was going to cry or be sick, and neither would do Denise any
good. I wondered if I was allowed to throw up in her bathroom and decided that if Jay didn't want
me to touch anything I'd better not. When the nausea subsided I went back to the porch.

Ginger was sitting on the porch swing, crying on Ma's faille shoulder. Ma didn't look so
good herself.

"He's coming?"

"Right away. The patrol car should get here first, though."

We stared at each other.

"The chauffeur didn't kill Dai, did he?"

I shook my head. "Miguel was murdered, too."

They gaped at me. Ma said, "She...Denise was shot?"

"Strangled with the scarf of her lounging outfit."

"Like Isadora Duncan. No, not exactly..."

"Jay says the killer embellishes."

"Jay's sharp, isn't he?" That was kind. Jay might be sharp, but he was going to feel stupid
that he hadn't been able to prevent Denise's death. Stupid and sick.

Ginger sobbed and Ma patted her shoulders. I sat on the edge of the porch, dangling my
legs in the snapdragons, and tried to think. The white cat nosed across the lawn. It was pursuing a
butterfly.

The patrol car came within fifteen minutes. I didn't recognize the deputy, but he seemed
to know who I was. He took my name for his incident report, and I introduced my mother and
Ginger.

Ginger had gathered herself together. "Somebody ought to call Dennis."

"I'm sure they will, Ginge. Where is he?"

"Dennis?" the deputy asked.

"H-her son." I swallowed. "Dennis Fromm."

"He's at work." Ginger's mouth trembled, and she bit her lip. "He only has three more
days."

"I'll call the number in when I've seen the victim," the deputy volunteered. He was blond,
about my age, and wore glasses. "They'll send somebody to tell him."

Ginger thanked him. Mother patted her arm.

"Now, Miss Dailey..."

I led him around on the flagstone path, stood on the grass, and pointed. "She's in the
gazebo behind the table. I'm not going any closer."

"You touch anything?"

"I brushed the inside of that trellis with my shoulder. I was dizzy. I didn't touch her...the
body."

"You sure she's dead?"

Jay's question. "Go see for yourself," I snapped.

He set his jaw. I could tell that he was nerving himself to go up the redwood steps, and I
was ashamed of my momentary annoyance. I didn't have to be told that cops were human, did I?
Nothing would have compelled me to go back into the gazebo. I waited on the grass.

When the deputy came back to me he was green. "Okay, Miss Dailey. Now I guess I'd
better fill in my report."

"Let's go around front. My mother..."

He shoved his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "I ought to stay here. Guard the
body."

"Who's going to disturb her...it?"

He peered around. The yard was completely enclosed by a tall redwood fence, older than
the gazebo and weathered. Climbing roses rioted on the boards, and salal and ornamental
evergreens around the perimeter were relieved by carefully placed boulders. A towering cedar
shaded the gazebo. In the northeast corner of the yard Denise had planted an herb garden.
Everything was very still. Eerie.

I shivered. "Can't we go around front?"

"No!" His color had come back. "I ought to keep the stiff, er, the body in sight. I can take
your statement here, though."

"She had to be alive around noon." My memory was starting to function. "She called
Ginger...Ms. Gates. Said somebody was coming for lunch."

"Are you sure of the time?"

"No. It was after noon. Better ask Ginger."

The deputy and I stood on the flagstones while he took down the basic information. I
went back to Ma and Ginger, and he went back to the gazebo to guard Denise's body from
passing butterflies. There was no gate in the fence that surrounded the area. I supposed
neighborhood kids, if there were any, could have climbed over, but it didn't seem likely.

Ten long minutes later Jay drove up in the Blazer trailed by another county car. He had a
word with the evidence crew. Then he came straight to me. He held me, and I cried a little.
Neither of us said anything. One of the deputies cleared his throat. Ahem.

"Where's the body?" Jay asked me.

"Around back. There's a garden house." I said into Jay's shirt, "I couldn't stand it back
there."

Jay stroked my back. "Go get things started, Mike." Mike went.

I didn't want to move, but I knew I was being self-indulgent. I took a long breath and
straightened.

Jay kept his hand where it was. "Mrs. Dailey, Ginger, I'm afraid you'll have to hang
around for awhile. When I've had a look at the scene I'll want to talk to both of you. Lark, too.
I've sent for Dennis, Ginger."

"Th-thanks. Can I use the bathroom?"

Jay hesitated. "If there's one upstairs."

"Denise had a guest coming for lunch," I interposed.

"That's what she told Ginger."

"Then the guest may have gone inside. Don't touch anything downstairs, Ginger."

Ma said, "I think I'll accompany her, if you don't mind."

When they went in Jay took me over to the porch swing and sat me down. "Are you all
right?"

"I'm fine. I'm sorry to be such an idiot."

He bent and kissed me on the forehead. "Shock. Sit there and dredge up everything you
can recall about this, starting with why you and your mother came with Ginger. I'll be back when
I've had a look around." He rubbed his ribs.

"There's a maniac loose, isn't there?"

"Not in the usual sense of the word," he said slowly, "but yes, I think so. Madness or at
least obsession. That's assuming the same person killed Llewellyn, Miguel, and Denise."

I stared up at him. The contusion had faded and slid down his cheek, and he was wearing
sunglasses. I wanted to see his eyes. "Surely there's only one killer."

"I hope so."

"But who would kill...oh, no, not Dennis."

"Or Ginger."

"She couldn't have! She's been with me since eleven, and Denise called the store around
twelve fifteen."

"Were you there when the call came?"

"No. I went home to change. For Godsake, Jay, that's too crazy. Ginger?"

"It's not very likely. I want you to remember that anyone can kill, given the right
provocation. And Denise was being difficult about the marriage. Be careful who you confide
in."

I gaped at him.

"Ted Peltz is clear on this one. He's still locked up."

"God, then the Huffs..."

"And Domingo. And Professor D'Angelo." Jay touched my cheek. "I'll be back. Will you
help Dennis?"

"If I can."

"Keep him here in front when he arrives."

"Okay." My stomach churned. Dennis was not a mother's boy in the usual sense of the
phrase, but his relationship with Denise had been strange, to say the least. I did not want him to
hurt any more than he was going to have to hurt.

Dennis drove up in the Forest Service pickup while Jay was still inspecting the gazebo.
The deputy on duty blocking the lane waved him on down.

Dennis pulled in on the grass in front of the house. The ambulance was waiting in the
driveway by then, but they had not yet removed Denise's body. Ginger ran to him.

"Where is she?" He sounded hoarse.

I walked over to him, too. "She's in the gazebo, Dennis. Come and sit with us."

"No, I have to see her."

I said desperately, "Believe me, you don't want to."

He stared at me, mute and dazed.

"Come to the porch. Jay will be with you in a few minutes. In fact, I'll go get him."