Moss Hysteria (27 page)

The back of my head hit the concrete with a sickening thud, sending shock waves down my body. My vision danced and my stomach roiled as he knelt beside me, his breath sour in my face. “I know you found it. What did you do with it?”

Stunned by the blow, all I could do was stare up at him, unable to make sense of what was happening. In frustration he stood up and kicked my legs then took me by both feet and dragged me across the prickly grass. I felt as lifeless as a rag doll, unable to even form words to call for help.

From a distance I heard Seedy barking, and a detached part of my mind thought,
She didn't run and hide this time. I wonder why.
I gasped as icy water hit my skin and I realized Maynard was pulling me through the cold, smelly moss into the pond. I tried to grab onto something to stop him, but the moss slipped through my fingers.

Maynard stopped a few feet offshore where we were hidden by the reeds. He straddled my body, baring his teeth as he leaned down to snarl words that seemed to be muffled in cotton. “Where did you put it? I left it behind the pump, and now it's gone.”

My head fell from side to side as I attempted to answer. “I don't—know what—you're talking about.”

“Liar!” He pressed me down until all but my nose was submerged and then pulled me up again. “You said you found out who killed Dirk, so you must have it!”

I wheezed, nearly out of air, and rasped weakly, “I don't know what you're—”

“The shovel!” he roared, then pushed me down again, and this time the dirty liquid filled my nostrils. In my dazed state I mistakenly opened my mouth to gulp air, and it, too, filled. As my lungs took on pond water, I reached out to Maynard in a panic, but he merely shoved me down deeper. I knew then that he intended for me to die.

Unable to draw in air, a heavy blackness closed in around me. I ceased struggling, and that little detached part of my brain thought,
I should've kissed Marco good-bye. People always regret not telling a loved one good-bye.

A thunderous bellow from above jerked me back to consciousness—and suddenly I was free. As I pushed up on my elbows and dragged air into my starved lungs, I could hear Seedy's frenzied barking nearby accompanied by a long, unearthly shriek. Coughing, I rolled onto all fours and immediately vomited in the water.

Get up!
If Seedy was trying to defend me, she'd be no match for Maynard. I rose to my feet and swayed dizzily, ignoring the pounding in my head as I struggled to focus my eyes. I spotted Seedy at the edge of the pond, a bobbing blur of white and brown in the moonlight, her barks coming fast and furious. But the cry of distress was coming from behind me. I turned to see Maynard flailing his arms and screaming in pain as someone attacked him from the rear.

Was it Mitzi?

As my vision cleared, I realized my rescuer wasn't human at all. It was a large silver-blue cat who had his back claws hooked into Maynard's flesh and was ripping his ears and neck with his front claws and biting his face and scalp with his razor-sharp teeth, Kitty's high-pitched screeches sounding like something from the underworld.

I knew the brave feline couldn't fend Maynard off forever, so I forced my trembling legs to wade through the moss to retrieve the metal bar from the lawn. But before I could reach the grass, I heard a loud splash and turned to see Maynard on his back, the cat effectively trapped beneath him.

“No! Kitty!” I cried and raced back toward them, yelling for Maynard to let him up. I grabbed the man's ears and twisted them hard, but he was intent on smothering the poor animal. Screaming for help, I tried to gouge Maynard's eyes only to have him knock me aside with one heavy arm. I fell into the water, my head throbbing so hard I thought I'd pass out.

As I struggled to my feet I heard shouts and loud splashing, and then Marco was yelling, “Get back, Abby.”

I moved aside as Marco grabbed Maynard by his soaked shirt and landed a solid punch to his jaw. “I've got this,” he called. “Get the cat.”

I snatched the animal and carried his limp body to shore, praying he would survive. I laid him gently on the grass and knelt beside him, ready to start CPR, while Seedy nudged his unresponsive body and began to lick Kitty's head.

Suddenly Kitty gave a gasp, and then another, and then began to gag. He crouched on the grass while his body heaved and heaved and finally brought up dirty water. My eyes filled with tears, all my terror and pain and relief spilling out in noisy sobs as I comforted the cat. He had saved my life. And Marco had saved his.

“Marco, stand down now!” someone shouted. “That's enough.”

I glanced around and only then noticed that Reilly and half a dozen of his men were racing toward the pond. Then I saw my husband rise and hold up his hands, palms out, as Maynard spluttered and coughed in the water. Red and blue lights flashed all the way down to the pond, and sirens blared from the street in front. I hadn't even heard them.

Maynard labored to his feet and pointed at Marco as he massaged his jaw. “He tried to kill me!”

Marco would have lunged at him again, but Reilly caught his arm and held him back while two of his men escorted Maynard to shore and handcuffed him.

But my whole attention was on Kitty, who was breathing with difficulty and shaking so hard I feared he was going into shock. I held him against me as I hurried to the house, ignoring the stabbing pain in my head. With Seedy at my side, watching the cat with anxious eyes, I wrapped Kitty in a big bath towel and sat on the floor with him, talking softly, telling him he was going to be fine. Hoping I was right.

•   •   •

I was sitting in the back of an emergency rescue van wrapped in a blanket, still holding Kitty, with Seedy at my feet, and two EMTs fussing over me, when I heard Marco and Reilly approach.

“You want to be the next one going to jail?” Reilly was saying. “What were you thinking?”

“The bastard was trying to kill my wife. That's what I was thinking. What would you have done in my place?”

They came around the back of the van and stopped. With my hair in wet strands, mascara undoubtedly smudged beneath my eyes, a heavy blanket covering my body, and sodden shoes hanging out at the bottom, I'm sure I was a sight.

Reilly nudged Marco. “Just shut up and hug her.”

Marco climbed into the van and sat on the bench beside me, his arm around my back. I laid my head on his shoulder while Seedy wagged her tail and yipped to get his attention.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Marco asked. “Maynard landed a pretty severe blow.”

“That was his second blow. This was the first one.” I showed him the lump on the back of my head.

Marco muttered something under his breath about what he should've done to Maynard, so I said, “It's over, Marco. We found the killer, and thanks to you and Kitty I'm alive.” I unwrapped the blanket so they could see the Russian Blue purring on my lap. He squinted at the light, so I covered him again.

“And thanks to me,” Reilly said, “your husband isn't in jail.”

Ignoring Reilly's remark, Marco said, “Is Kitty going to be okay?”

“These nice EMTs checked him over and said he'd used up one of his nine lives but he'd recover.”

One of the EMTs said, “You can go now, Mrs. Salvare. Everything checked out okay. Just keep an ice pack on your head, twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off.”

Marco hugged me to him again. “Let's get you back to the house. I'll ready the ice pack. Reilly, care for a cup of coffee?”

“I don't want to be a bother,” he said, looking at me.

“You won't be,” I said. “I want to hear what happened after I left.”

While Marco started the coffeemaker, I went to the bedroom to strip off my wet clothes and wrap myself in a bathrobe. Then we sat in the living room, Marco and me side by side on our new sofa and Reilly in Marco's recliner. As they drank their coffee, I described how Maynard had nearly drowned me.

“Seedy's barking must have alerted Kitty,” I told them. “He ripped into Maynard like no one's business. Another minute and I'd have drowned. Thank God the sliding door was open so he could get out.”

“Seedy alerted me, too,” Marco said. “When I drove up she was waiting to lead me around back. It's almost like she was trained for it.”

“She surprised me, too.” I turned to look over into the kitchen, where both animals were eating from their bowls. “Looking at them now, you'd think nothing bad had happened.”

“They live in the moment,” Marco said.

Reilly commented with a chuckle, “A cat, a dog, and a husband. You've got your own rescue team, Abby.”

“I'll claim the husband and dog, but the cat isn't mine,” I said.

“And let's leave the word
rescue
out of the equation,” Marco said, giving me a look that said,
There'd better not be a need for another rescue.

If only I could give him that guarantee. “Why were you on your way home?”

“When I saw the photos Jane Singletary had given us, I knew the murderer was Maynard.” Marco turned to me and gazed into my eyes. “I was afraid he might do something because of that newspaper article—and I was right.”

Marco looked down, too emotional to go on, and I could only imagine what horrible thoughts were running through his mind as he raced home. I set the ice pack aside and slid my arms around him. “I'm sorry, Marco.”

He stroked my hair. “The only thing that matters is that you're safe, sweetheart.”

“And that Maynard will be spending a long time behind bars,” Reilly added. “We got quite a confession from him, Abby. He was so angry—at the cat, at Dirk, at Brandon Thorne, and at both of you—that even after I read him his rights, he kept raging on.”

“Why was he angry at Brandon Thorne?” I asked.

“It was Thorne's pump that needed repairing,” Marco said, “and Dirk who ordered Maynard to fix it.”

“Why would he send Maynard to fix it?” I asked.

“Maynard had been a plumber,” Marco said, “which he conveniently forgot to tell us. Dirk was already using the photos to blackmail him, so when Dirk needed to get that pump fixed to get Brandon off his back, he had Maynard do it that evening.”

“Maynard had been drinking with his buddies that night and was in a dark mood when he got to the pond,” Reilly said. “He used a garden shovel he found lying nearby to deliver a blow to Dirk's head, then dragged him into the water and—”

“I know the rest,” I said with a shudder. “So Rye's wrench wasn't involved?”

“Nope. It was tested and came out clean,” Reilly said.

“Does this mean Theda can be released?” I asked.

“If we can get a judge to sign the order, she'll be home tonight, and I don't see a problem there. Detective Wells is on her way to one of the judges' homes now.”

“So what was in the photos?” I asked Marco.

“Pictures of Maynard passed out in his black Ford sedan parked in front of a construction site, similar to what we witnessed with the city van. It seems Maynard also forgot to tell us that he had his own car.”

I shivered and hugged Marco tighter. “It's a miracle that you looked at those photos when you did.”

“I know. The odd part is that I was busy at the time. But something made me stop and open that envelope.”

“Don't question it,” Reilly said, taking his empty cup to the kitchen. “Just be grateful.” He pointed to me. “Take care of yourself.”

Marco showed his friend to the door then sat down with me again. “How's your head?”

“Not quite as painful. The ice helps.”

Seedy came hobbling up to the sofa and yipped for me to pick her up. “Don't get used to this,” I told my little mutt, perching her on my knees. “Tonight is special.”

Kitty leaped up onto the back of the sofa, hopped down beside Marco, and curled up in his lap. As Marco ran his hand down the purring cat's still-damp body, he said, “You know we can't give Kitty up now, Abby, not after he saved your life.”

I lifted my hand to give Marco a high five. “We're on the same page again, my darling hubby. Theda will be thrilled.”

Marco lifted my hand to his lips. “You were right about Theda, Sunshine. I'm sorry I doubted you.”

“But I was wrong, too, Marco. I really believed Mitzi was the guilty one. Or maybe I was just hoping so hard I made myself think my gut instinct was behind it.”

“Actually, you weren't that far off, Abby. She
is
guilty, just not of murder.”

I lay my head against Marco's shoulder with a sigh, hugging Seedy to me. Then I turned my head to gaze at my husband, who was petting a very contented Russian Blue. “So we're keeping Kitty for sure?”

“On one condition. That we give him a decent boy's name.”

“You're on, Salvare.”

Marco smiled at me, then leaned toward me to give me a kiss. Team Salvare had just become a foursome.

Saturday

T
he morning of the Midwest Regional Flower Show dawned sunny and bright, the temperature feeling more like late May than April, the trees budding out with tiny green leaves and the daffodils around Theda's porch waving their yellow and white blossoms in the warm breeze. As I backed my Corvette out of the garage, I made a mental note to plant bulbs around my porch in the autumn.

I put the ragtop down, turned up the radio, and sang along as I headed for the town square. Everything was finally back to normal: I had my car and Marco had his; Theda was home; and Grace would be at the shop to help me while Rosa and Lottie attended the flower show.

The days since Maynard's capture had passed in a blur of activities, with sales at the flower shop brisk and plans for our backyard open house moving along. The timing wasn't great. I hadn't realized when we'd set the date to welcome family, friends, and neighbors that the flower show was on the same day, or that I'd be occupied at the shop until midafternoon. Fortunately, my mom, Marco's mom, and Jillian had been more than happy to take command.
Ecstatic
would be a better word.

Theda had been released the night of Maynard's arrest, but we weren't able to tell her what had happened until the next morning. She'd been appalled by what Maynard had done, but overjoyed that I was okay and that we'd decided to give Kitty a home.

On the Brandywine front, we'd had a huge number of
yes
replies to our party invitation and an equal number of thank-yous from relieved neighbors who'd read about Maynard's arrest in the newspaper. Not surprisingly, Mitzi had declined the invite. In fact, she hadn't been seen around the neighborhood at all since word had gotten out about her affair with Tom Burns. Rumor had it that Sarah was going to file for divorce.

On the Bloomers front, relations with Rosa remained strained. She tiptoed around as though afraid of offending me, and I pretended like I didn't notice. I hoped in time we'd be able to resume our former rapport.

When I arrived at Bloomers, Grace had coffee ready, so we sat in the parlor and chatted as usual. The shop seemed quieter because I no longer brought Seedy with me. She now had a playmate to keep her company, and Marco always made sure to get home midday to let her outside.

“You're coming to our open house, aren't you, Grace?”

“Of course I'll be there, love. I wouldn't miss it, although I must say that I've never heard of anyone throwing themselves a welcome-to-the-neighborhood party.”

“It just seemed like a fun way to get to know the neighbors.”

“It's a wonder you're even here today. I can't imagine the work involved in putting on such a big fete.”

“I'd rather be here than at
party central
. I just hope Lottie and Rosa get back in time to attend. Those flower shows can last until late in the evening.”

“Speaking of which,” Grace said, “you should have seen Rosa when she and Lottie came to pick up her floral arrangement. She was so excited she kept slipping into Spanish. She worked so hard on her entry that I do hope she wins a trophy.” Grace glanced at me sidelong. “Or is that a touchy subject?”

“Not touchy at all. I hope Rosa wins, too.” Did that sound as flat as it felt? “Seriously, I
really
hope she wins.”

Now it just sounded feigned—and I hadn't meant it to.

Grace artfully changed the subject. “How's Mr. Kitty adjusting to his new home?”

“Like he belongs there. We're trying to choose a name for him, but so far we haven't agreed on anything.”

“The right one will come to you. Just watch for it.”

The phone rang, and Grace went to answer it. She came back just as I was rinsing my cup in the sink. “That was Lottie. There's been an accident with the cooler at the venue, and Rosa's arrangement was ruined. Lottie is on her way back and asked us to gather the materials for her. She said their plan is on the computer.”

We went straight to the workroom and got started. Grace pulled up Lottie's notes and then I went to cooler number one to pull stems. But as I looked around, I realized that the exotic blossoms Rosa needed were gone, and our fresh flower order hadn't come in yet.

I heard Lottie's voice and stepped out of the cooler. “I have bad news, Lottie. We don't have the flowers you need.”

Lottie sat down on a stool with a heavy sigh and put her head in her hands. “I was afraid of that. All the way back I kept praying I was wrong.”

“Perhaps we can call around to other flower shops in the area,” Grace said as I printed out the orders that had come in overnight.

“It's too late,” Lottie said. “The live flower competition is set to start in an hour.”

Grace put her hand on Lottie's shoulder. “I'm so sorry, Lottie, dear. And poor Rosa. She did have her heart set on winning the competition, didn't she?”

“She was just tickled to be in it,” Lottie said. “She's never been a part of anything like this before. Her whole family is rooting for her.”

Trying not to listen to their conversation—or to the little voice in my head that kept whispering,
Rosa's flowers may be gone, but yours aren't
—I went to the cooler to pull red roses and white spider mums for the first order. I had to reach around the white delphinium to get the mums . . . and there were the Casablanca lilies staring at me with big innocent eyes, and the white cymbium orchids, as well, along with the white dendrobium orchids, enough of each lovely white blossom to make a stunning display.

I heard Lottie sigh deeply then scoot back the stool. “Guess I'd better break the news to her.”

“Wait, Lottie.” I ran to my desk, opened the top drawer, and took out my design. “Rosa can use my plan. We'll put it together here.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Lottie, Grace, and I worked together on my floral design, carefully cutting each flower to the perfect height, adding stems of curly willow and bear grass for accent, choosing just the right river rocks for the bottom of the tall glass vase. As it came together, I felt immense pride in my creation and couldn't help but think how wonderful it was to have my Bloomers crew together again, just like old times.

And yet it didn't feel quite as perfect as I remembered.

It wasn't until I stepped back to view the final product that I realized why. We had always been a great team, Lottie, Grace, and me, working as efficiently as a well-oiled machine. But we'd moved on, added a new member, and now, much to my surprise, it simply felt wrong without her.

We boxed the arrangement carefully. Then Grace and I helped Lottie get it into her car and stood at the curb, calling out, “Good luck!” as she drove away.

“It's in God's hands now,” Grace said as we returned to the shop.

•   •   •

I closed Bloomers at two o'clock and headed home, nervous and excited about what I'd find when I got there. But I needn't have worried. With Jillian functioning as party director, Francesca as food coordinator, and my mom as head decorator, I walked into my house to find a kitchen setup worthy of a
Top Chef
prize and walked out through my sliding glass door to find my yard full of people and the party in full swing.

Tiki lanterns topped tall poles that ringed our yard, with bright multicolored streamers running between them. Rented folding chairs sat around five long banquet tables covered with bright yellow plastic tablecloths. Red, yellow, and orange helium balloon centerpieces graced each table, and a huge buffet loaded with platters of chicken and bratwurst, salads, fruit, and corn on the cob sat on the patio. A separate table held a selection of beverages, buckets of ice, and stacks of plastic glasses.

“Here she is,” Marco called, bringing me a colorful plastic glass filled with punch. After a big round of applause, I called out, “Welcome to our home, everyone.” And Marco added, “Please enjoy yourselves. We've got plenty of food and drinks, and luckily the weather is cooperating, because we forgot the tent.”

Theda called out, “Here's to our Brandywine host and hostess heroes!” and everyone cheered as they raised their glasses to toast us.

I smiled at the sea of faces, picking out family members along with Nikki and Grace and even—

I turned to Marco in surprise. “You invited Alfie?”

“Just trying to appease my mom,” he said quietly.

I saw women from the Books and Bottles Book Club laughing with the Bees as though they were old friends, and Betsy from across the street chatting with Theda, and many others I hadn't met. I was about to walk among them when Theda took me aside.

“I want to show you something.”

I followed her around to the front, where she pointed out what I had failed to notice when I drove in: a
FOR SALE
sign in Mitzi's yard. And then I saw the scarlet woman herself standing at the window, her arms crossed, a scowl on her face as she glared at us. She saw us looking and turned away. I could almost hear her indignant huff.

“There's a
For Sale
sign in the Burnses' window, too,” Theda said.

As we started back, I said, “I have to ask you something, Theda. Did you know Mitzi and Tom were having an affair when you sent Sarah home early?”

She looked shocked—sort of. “Whatever would make you think that? You may as well be asking if I knew Maynard Dell was being blackmailed, or if I had proof that Dirk had stolen my friends' jewelry, or, more important, whether I felt you and Marco were savvy enough to bring the true murderer to justice.”

She put her arm around my shoulders and said sagely, “There isn't much around here that escapes my attention, Abby, dear. I wasn't always just an elderly woman who loves animals.” Then she leaned close to say, “But what else does a retired CIA agent do in her old age?”

I stopped in my tracks to stare at her, and she gave me a wink that I took to mean she was kidding.

Or did it mean to keep that information to myself?

We returned to the backyard to see everyone chatting and filling their plates, safe in the knowledge that Dirk was no longer around, Mitzi Kole was moving on, and Maynard Dell was in jail. As I pondered that, Theda said, “Don't look too hard at the clues, Abby. Just be happy with the results. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

•   •   •

Marco and I sat at the head of the center table with family members on both sides. Grace was at the end with seats saved for Rosa and Lottie. It wasn't until later, when Marco and I were up at the buffet about to cut into one of the two huge sheet cakes, that Lottie and Rosa came around the corner, big smiles on their faces.

“We won!” Lottie called in her booming voice, as Rosa raised the big Silver Rose trophy high in the air. Conversations ceased as everyone turned to see what was happening.

“We took first prize in the live floral competition,” Lottie called. “Someone grab a camera! Abby and Grace, come over here.”

A warm feeling radiated from my heart as I walked around the dessert table to stand with my staff. My all-white design had won. I knew it would. I knew it!

“I'll use my phone,” Marco said, and stepped back so he could get a shot of the four of us. “Okay, Rosa, hold up your trophy again. Everyone smile.”

“No, Marco, wait.” Rosa turned to me. “The trophy belongs to you, Abby, not to me. It was your talent and design that won the competition. All I did was accept the award.” Blinking back tears, she said, “I can never thank you enough for what you did.
Gracias
, Abby.” Then she passed the Silver Rose to Lottie so she could throw her arms around me for a big hug.

“Speech!” my dad called, and then others joined in, applauding when I finally raised my hand for silence.

“First let me introduce these amazing women to you.” I pointed at each woman in turn and gave a brief intro, then said, “And I appreciate Rosa's gesture, but the Silver Rose isn't mine. It belongs to all four of us. If an accident hadn't happened, I'm sure Rosa's arrangement would have won. We were just fortunate to have a backup plan.”

“I learned something important from this,” I continued. “It isn't about winning a trophy. It's about pulling together as a team.” I glanced at the three women around me. “And we did that, didn't we?”

After the applause, Marco said, “Now all of you hold the award and smile for me one more time.”

We posed and then Rosa said, “Take one more photo, Marco. This time get a shot of just Abby holding it.”

The women stood behind me as I wrapped my fingers around that beautiful Silver Rose award and lifted it proudly above my head.

I smiled at Marco and he winked back as though he knew what I was thinking.

Maybe it was about winning the trophy—
just
a little.