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Authors: Janis Harrison

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BOOK: Reap a Wicked Harvest
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The younger officer looked to the older one for guidance. Swanson shrugged. “The sheriff says to tell Mrs. Solomon whatever she wants to know.”
Uncertain, Carter, said, “All are accounted for except for Harley. He's gone to the bus station to pick up some freight.”
In a no-nonsense tone, I asked, “How long has he been gone?”
Deputy Carter shuffled his feet. It was obvious he didn't like answering a civilian's questions. Reluctantly, he said, “About thirty minutes.”
I made some fast calculations. “If he's been gone thirty minutes, he should be arriving shortly, unless he made a detour to Lakeview Estates. Is there any way you can check to see if he's at the bus station?”
Carter rolled his eyes and didn't answer. Swanson's lips twitched with suppressed amusement. “It's being done, Mrs. Solomon. An officer has already been dispatched to that location. I think
we
have things under control.”
Instead of taking offense at his smug tone, I only felt relief. Let these officers think what they wanted. I didn't care as long as the murderer was caught before he killed—“Dixie!” I said in a strangled tone. “If the killer is tying up loose ends, he may go after her, too.”
“Who is Dixie?” asked Carter.
Jacob grabbed my arm. “Do you think she is in danger?”
I patted his hand. “I don't know.” To Carter, I said, “There isn't time to explain. Get Sid on that radio. I have to talk to him.” Both men stared at me but neither moved. I lowered a fierce glare on Swanson. “My involvement in this case is unique, but there it is. Why question it? I want to talk to Sid.”
Swanson put the walkie-talkie to his lips. I didn't hear what he said, but after a moment, he handed me the radio. Unaccustomed to using the apparatus, I shouted, “This is Bretta, Sid. I'm worried about Dixie Ragsford's safety. She's at Coventry Acres, remember?”
“You don't have to scream,” said Sid. “We stopped using tin cans and string last week. I can hear you just fine.”
I lowered my voice, but anxiety kept my tone high-pitched. “I think Dixie needs protection. Can you send someone out there? Someone who knows the situation and can be on his toes?”
Sid's tone was as dry as lint. “Will I do?”
Jacob begged the deputies to take him to Coventry Acres so he could be with Dixie. When his request was denied, he didn't argue, but walked away. Sid pulled Swanson off guard duty and sent him to the crime scene at Lakeview Estates. Deputy Carter was miffed at having to stick around when the action was elsewhere.
I hung around the loading dock waiting for DeeDee to get off work. I felt as if a shadow had crept across my life, eclipsing the sunlight. Shannon was dead. Jacob's spirits were crushed, while Mrs. Cooper kept a vigilant watch by her front window in hopes that her daughter would return. I was pretty sure that wasn't going to happen.
I glanced at my watch. It was almost twenty minutes before DeeDee would be leaving. I couldn't stand still. I walked past the loading dock, down the length of the greenhouses and across the employees' parking lot. The clank of metal on metal drew me down steps to a concrete pad. Jess had the door open to the pump house and was hammering on a motor.
“Damned piece of junk,” he said.
“Trouble?” I asked.
He looked over his shoulder. “I told Dan two weeks ago we needed to replace pump number five, but he said to hold out until it wouldn't pull water. Well, that's happened.” He glanced
at his watch. “It's too late today to go into town and buy another. I have plants wilting in F, G, and H greenhouses. I'll have to hook up to another pump, which will take time and put added strain on that motor.”
I walked around the wooden structure and gazed at the landscape. It had been years since limestone had been quarried from this land, but the excavation had left its mark. The mined pit had filled with water and dominated the immediate view. It covered more than an acre and was crystal clear, reflecting the sky's azure blue color. Deep ruts bore testimony that heavily laden trucks had once carried cargo from the quarry's rim. A piece of an old conveyor lay abandoned, choked in weeds.
When I lifted my gaze beyond the lake, a curtain of vegetation shielded the remaining property. Sumac, buck brush, wild elderberry, and blackberry briars grew in a snarl beneath the canopy of trees. The thicket was a natural border, barring humans from trespassing.
Jess had come out of the pump house to stand next to me. I nodded to the view. “When I'm on top of the bluff with its manicured lawns and cultivated gardens, I forget how wild the rest of the property is.”
With the toe of his work shoe, Jess nudged a tendril of Virginia creeper that had eased its way onto the concrete pad. “We might forget, but Mother Nature hasn't. She's always looking for ways to reclaim her domain. We have to keep a constant vigil if we want to maintain control.”
He picked up his tools and sighed. “Some days it don't seem worth the trouble. We're standing on a thousand acres of brush, weeds, and trees. When the Osage River overflows its banks during the rainy season, the valleys flood, leaving behind trash and silt.”
Jess turned away and headed up the steps. I followed, listening
to him talk. “About eight years ago, some man came around selling aerial photographs that he'd taken of this place. Dan bought one and hung it in his study. The picture shows five more quarries filled with water. A couple old shacks his greatgrandfather used when he was hunting. But none of it is easy to get to unless you hanker for bugs and briars.”
Jess stopped on the parking lot to gaze around him. “With its family history every inch should be well tended. If it belonged to me, I'd hire a bulldozer so I could make the whole damned place accessible, not just this corner.”
Embarrassed, he glanced at me. “Don't think I'm being critical of Dan. He's a good man. He built this profitable business on nothing but a piece of land and the desire to succeed. I admire that.” He ran a hand over his sweaty face. “I'd better get busy. I've got plants wilting.” He walked away.
I looked off into the distance but saw nothing except trees and more trees. What lay beyond them? Jess had said five water pits and a couple of hunting shacks. My eyes narrowed thoughtfully. But Dixie, Shannon, and Paige had gone “up north.”
A car's engine roared to life on the employees' parking lot. The workers were leaving. I arrived at the loading dock just as DeeDee came out the door. She was listening to the young woman who'd been sitting next to her in the break room. The woman didn't look sick now. Her expression was animated. Her eyes sparkled as she waved her hands, illustrating some point she was trying to make.
DeeDee nodded and smiled until she caught sight of me. I watched her sneak a quick peek at her car in the parking lot. She took a couple of steps in that direction before I called, “Miss, I was wondering if I could have that recipe for brownies? They were fabulous.”
DeeDee stopped and summoned up a tight smile. Her companion said, “I'll see you tomorrow.” She walked to the parking lot, digging in her handbag. She pulled out a couple of crackers and popped one into her mouth. She was a slender woman but had the makings of a paunch.
“Your new friend seems to have gotten over her sick spell,” I said.
“Alicia h-has an u-ulcer. S-She has to w-watch what s-she e-eats.”
I wanted to say she
watched
the food as it disappeared down her gullet, but I refrained. Alicia's stomach woes were the least of my worries. Aware of people moving around us, I said softly, “We need to talk, but this isn't the place. I'll call you later. You
will
be home?”
DeeDee's eyes widened as she looked past me. “N-Natalie!” she said under her breath. “I-I have to go or s-she'll r-recognize m-me.”
“That doesn't matter. Your undercover work is over.” I took a step toward DeeDee. I was going to tell her there had been another murder, that it was too dangerous for her to keep up this charade, but she scampered to her car.
Thoroughly exasperated, I turned and saw Natalie gazing after DeeDee. Catching my eye, Natalie said, “That looked like the young woman—”
Conscious of the other workers leaving, I hastily said, “Yes, that's the woman who brought the fabulous brownies. I asked for the recipe and she said she'd bring it to work tomorrow.” If I had my way, DeeDee wouldn't show up for work. But for safety's sake, I didn't want her associated with me.
Using a diverting tactic, I said, “So, what's on for tonight? Have you scorched another meal for our supper? Or are we having bologna sandwiches again?”
Pride in her cooking skills brought Natalie's chin up. “As it so happens,” she said. “I've fixed us a fine meal, and it's even low-cal.”
“Great,” I said, trying for some enthusiasm. It didn't happen. I wanted to stuff my face with something gooey concocted from cheese or chocolate or whipped cream. If nuts or caramel or a flaky crust were included on the menu then so much the better.
Natalie frowned. “I thought you'd be happy with low-cal. Aren't you dieting?”
“I guess, but I was hoping to eat at least one of your famous dishes while I was here. With Dan coming home tomorrow, I'll be leaving.”
Natalie's face lit up. “Tomorrow. I can hardly wait.” Her shoulders slumped. “Which means his orchids had better be in excellent condition. I'm on my way over to his greenhouse to check on them. You want to come with me before we go up to the house?”
“Yeah. Sure,” I muttered, falling into step next to her. I wasn't in the mood for the orchid house. I was hungry.
“What's wrong?” said Natalie giving me a sidelong glance. “You surely can't be upset over a low-cal meal. I saw you talking with those deputies and one of them left. Has there been a new development in Marnie's death?”
“Yes, but I can't talk about it. Sid asked me not to say anything.”
“You talked to Sid?” When I nodded, Natalie said, “No wonder you look out of sorts. Will it put a smile on your face if I tell you we're having blueberry cheesecake for dessert?”
I grimaced. “I guess a single ray of sunshine is better than none.
“Don't be a gloomy Gus, Bretta. Let's celebrate. Dan is coming home.”
“Yeah. Celebrate.”
Natalie's voice was sharp. “I'm upset about Marnie's death, too, but for tonight, can't we leave the investigation in the authorities' expert hands?”
I heaved a sigh. “All right,” I said but I didn't sound happy about it.
“You have a birthday coming up in a few days, right?”
I gave Natalie a hard stare. I wasn't the only one capable of diverting attention. I said, “You know my birthday is tomorrow.”
“What's on your wish list?”
“I can't have what I want.”
Natalie stopped at the door of the orchid house and cocked an eyebrow at me. “And what would that be?”
“Bailey. He's gone, and he hasn't called me once.”
“Maybe he's waiting until tomorrow so he can give you his best wishes.”
“He may not know it's my birthday.”
Natalie held open the door to the lab. As I walked past her, she said, “He's a government agent. He knows.”
Following her lead, I picked up a paper gown and shoved my arms into the sleeves. “Ex-agent, and he may very well exit my life.”
She shook her head at my moroseness but didn't comment until we'd finished covering our clothes and shoes. “We'll discuss Bailey later,” she said. “Right now, I have to check the temperature and humidity in the nursery. While I'm here, Dan wants me to examine the seedpods on the
Oncidium lanceanum.
”
I chuckled. “That sounds like a disease. What are you looking for?”
“Dan says that by now the seedpods should be expanding if his hand pollination was a success.”
“Where are these plants? I'd like to see them.”
She waved toward a bench on the right. “They're the ones in the middle.”
Natalie hurried across the concrete floor to the back of the greenhouse. I stepped over to the bench of orchids. Everything was precisely labeled and it was easy to spot the specimen Dan was interested in.
The
O. lanceanum
was a striking plant. The leaves were twenty inches long and four inches wide. They were stiff and erect and mottled with brown. The foot-tall flower stem had produced some small yellow flowers spotted with reddish brown and sporting a purplish rose lip. I leaned close and inspected the plants. I didn't have a clue as to what I was looking for on this orchid.
“Are they swollen?” asked Natalie, coming up behind me.
I shrugged. “I could whip these few blossoms into a gorgeous bouquet, but I wouldn't know an orchid seed pod if it reached out and nipped me on the nose.”
Natalie pulled the plant closer. “See? This is the column.” With gentle fingers she touched what I'd have called the stem. “All the reproductive parts of the flower are located here,” she said. “The column contains the stigma, which receives the pollen, and the anther cap, which holds it.” Her fingers moved down the column. “This is the ovary.”
“It's called an ovary?”
“Yes. It's just below the flower and resembles a flower stalk. It contains the ovules, which contains the embryo sac. If Dan's hand pollination has worked, the ovary will be plump with seeds.”
I leaned my head close to hers so I could have a look. “Was he successful?”
“I'm not an expert, but it looks like it's expanding.”
“How did he pollinate it?”
“He uses an artist's brush and tranfers the pollen—powdered male-sex cells—from the anther of the stamen of the flower to the upper tip of the pistil. If fertilization is completed, the ovary will develop seeds.” She took a step back from the plant and sighed. “When I talk to him later, I'll tell him the seeds are forming.”
Without thinking, I said, “He should be one proud papa.”
BOOK: Reap a Wicked Harvest
8.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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