Whispers of Danger and Love (14 page)

“Come on in, the door’s open. I’m in the shower.” She stepped back in the shower and turned the water on, shutting the opaque shower door. She saw a dark figure enter and sit down on the closed lid of the toilet.

“You’ll get hot in here, Jane. I’ve been boiling myself under the hot water. It’s still very steamy.” She plunged her face back into the water for a final rinse and felt the coolness of the shower door as it slowly opened. Her heart thudded with the surge of adrenalin that raced through her veins. She screamed in surprise.

“Gordon! Get out of here! What are you doing? Are you crazy?” She yanked the door closed and turned the water off.

“Get out of here,” she screamed. “Get out!” She could see him sit back down on the toilet.

“Don’t get so upset, Cheryl. It’s just a joke. You said for me to come in, you know.”

It had been a long stressful day and she didn’t need this kind of nonsense.

“Gordon, if you don’t immediately exit this bathroom, when I do get out of here I’m going to have you arrested for breaking and entering. Or something of the sort. Get out!” She watched him slowly rise and open the door. He lingered at the doorway, and she screamed at him angrily. Finally, he closed the door. She jumped out of the shower, toweled off, then grabbed her robe, and used a hair dryer on her wet hair.

She knew she’d have to deal with the annoying Gordon so she might as well do it now. Jane would soon be over and she wanted him gone before then. She stormed into the kitchen where Gordon was sitting, sipping a cup of something. He acted as if he owned the place and it made Cheryl see even more red.

“Before you rip my head off, I apologize. That wasn’t well done of me, but I couldn’t resist. You did say for me to come in.” Gordon grinned as he tried to coax her to better temper. She started to say that he knew very well he was not invited to her house, but he cut her off.

“I came over to apologize for my horrid behavior the other night. And to collect my car which is almost a block away. I hadn’t had time to get a ride over here until now. Please say you’ll forgive me?”

He took the fire from her anger with his apologies, but he didn’t do a thing for her annoyance. What could she do or say to convince him the relationship was way over and done with?

Jane popped in the back door chatting about the balmy night. She stopped in surprise when she spotted Gordon.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were a part of the toy collection, Gordon.” She sat down at the table and the two of them started discussing the Christmas collections.

Cheryl wanted to pull her still-damp hair. She turned and walked out of the room to finish drying her hair and put on some clothes. Let the two of them sort it out. She’d about had it up to here! She pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, blew dry her hair, and pulled it back in a ponytail.
Voices in the kitchen? More than one male?
Now what?

She peered cautiously around the corner and saw David the Hedge Man making a fresh pot of coffee.
Now
, she asked herself,
how do you feel about his intrusion?
Different?
Oh, yes, you feel much different toward that sexy intruder with the hot kisses. What’s he doing over here anyway, besides looking good enough to eat? Eat?

How could she get rid of the two men? She was supposed to feed Jane tuna fish sandwiches. Could she claim measles? The plague? An infestation of ants?

Chapter 13

“Just put the annuals tightly together in that urn,” Cher directed. “We want to place all of the containers where they will create strong splashes of color to fool the eye that the garden has been around for longer than a week or so. It’s not the final solution, but my job was to make the yard ready for guests by this weekend. We have three days to finish. Think we’ll make it?”

Tom Hager looked up from where he was popping colorful annuals from 4-inch pots. “Oh, sure. This is almost the end of the plantings. We still need to sod several places, but I wanted to wait for the ground to dry out more. Don’t want to get the equipment mired in mud this close to finishing.” He pushed hair out of his eyes with his forearm.

Cheryl admired his placid, good-natured face. Her own nerves had been stretched thin since her meeting with Detective Fowler earlier in the week. She had tried and partially succeeded in avoiding a meet with Sam Toledo, although his girlfriend, Francine, had been running in and out. She saw a caterer’s truck arrive, stay for a couple of hours, then leave. She presumed Francine was picking out food the way she did colors for the garden, impulsively, indiscriminately, and expensively.

The dress for the party was still hanging over her head. Surely she had a cocktail dress in her closet so she wouldn’t be forced to spend Toledo’s money. That really rankled. Detective Fowler had advised her to go along with whatever Sam Toledo requested. Within limits, he qualified. Thank goodness for that. As far as she was concerned, the limits had already been breached.

She used her soiled sleeve to wipe her forehead. The sun was out and it was heating up. She was stuffing annual after colorful annual into one of the blue urns, deliberately over planting to compensate for lack of growing time. With the organic fertilizer she had seeded the potting soil with, they would soon explode and fall over the side of the container. Perhaps the hired full-time help would handle it. It wasn’t in her job description. If she thought about how sad it would be for all her work to be neglected she would get upset. Detachment was the name of the game. Her work left her free to think, and she continued to plant while she mused.

Speaking of limits,
s
he couldn’t believe her house had been invaded not only by the annoying Gordon—again—but by David Gillard Larkin, Hedge Hopper, who had joined Jane and Gordon and was sitting comfortably at her kitchen table chatting, the three of them as cozy as kittens in a basket. She heard her friend giggle and stare adoringly over at Larkin, beast of the neighborhood, who was encouraging her friend, all the while pretending he didn’t see her standing at the doorway. Gordon had his back to her and wasn’t aware she had reentered the room, but she was well aware that David was faking ignorance. She knew him better than he thought she did. He had straightened, almost imperceptibly, but not quite, as she rounded the corner. He knew she was there.

She stalked into the kitchen without a word and made two tuna sandwiches. She ignored both men as she sat down at the table to have her dinner with Jane who finally got the point and quieted down.

“Looks like the two of us are out of luck, Gordon,” David said, slapping him on the shoulder. “What say you we go down to the pizzeria and have a couple of beers and leave the ladies to themselves?”

His voice was casual, but Cheryl had looked up, noting the underlying steel in the suggestion, as apparently did Gordon. He rose with alacrity and both men left. David patted her on the shoulder as he passed by. She managed to ignore him, but was confused about her feelings.

Gordon was a pain but she really didn’t need David to baby-sit her again, chasing off unwanted advances from unruly men as if she were still a green teenager.

On the other hand, well, she couldn’t deny it gave her a nice feeling to have an advocate when it came to Gordon. He was getting to be more of a handful than she’d anticipated. It was obvious she needed to deal with him another way.

She turned to pay closer attention to her plantings. After putting the finishing touches on a picture perfect, color chart combination of twelve-inch golden marigolds and deep blue, cascading lobelia, Cheryl contemplated her options.

A restraining order seemed a bit harsh. Gordon was a professional man. Publicity like that would harm his practice, and she didn’t want to go that far, but it had to end. It might be her imagination, but it appeared Gordon was growing more aggressive and making more attempts to control her, not less. He must think he would eventually wear her down, and she would resume the engagement.

“What a pain,” she said, and then concentrated on the plantings. The work soothed her, and she found a rhythm that soon had most of the urns filled to capacity. She sat back on her feet, work boots digging into the soft soil, to wipe the sweat from her eyes.

Tom drifted over across the yard with his flats of petunias and was tucking them into the newly formed raised beds. He was using sweetly fragrant, white alyssum to form a border in front. Already, the colors were sparkling and the landscape was taking on a more mature façade. Not the famous/infamous blue petunias, but very nice anyway. Which reminded her she had to set up a cutting garden for Francine by tomorrow. She turned when she heard a “yoo-hoo” calling to her from the house.

Lizzy, the maid, was gingerly making her way to the bottom garden where Cheryl was working. The young woman was holding her apron up to her chin as if she thought it would get mired by the remaining mud.

Cheryl stopped her work and waited.

“Miss Francine wants you to come to the house, please, miss.” Lizzy squinted in the sun and smoothed her hair which was blowing in the slight wind.

Cheryl felt her heart sinking. The very last thing she wanted was to be inside with either of the inhabitants of that house. How to avoid it, she wondered, even as she started up the hill wiping her hands on her jeans. What the hell did they want with her now?

She looked around, hoping to spot David or some of the other detectives or undercover policemen. No such luck. Always around when she didn’t want him and never when she did. She gritted her teeth and followed the maid into the back door foyer.

Her worst suspicions were confirmed when she spotted Sam Toledo sitting at the table in the kitchen eating what must be a very late breakfast or an early lunch. Francine hovered around him and glared at her as she walked in. As her star rose in Sam’s eyes, it appeared it was rapidly setting in Francine’s.

“There she is,” Sam said, slapping his hand on the kitchen table. He reached over and pulled out a chair and patted the seat of it. “Come on over here, girlie, and join us.” He laughed heartily as if he had said something funny or clever, half-chewed food clearly visible in his open mouth.

Cheryl forced a smile and took a seat in the chair. Francine flopped down next to Sam and glowered at her.

“You think I don’t notice what you’re doing out there, but I keep an eye on my money all the time.” Sam laughed loudly again. “Looks like you know what you are doing. Looks a lot better. You sure know how to boss those big fellows.” Again, the hearty laughter. “I like that in a woman.”

Francine glared at Cheryl once more and left the room.

“Don’t let her upset you, little lady. She gets knurly if I look with favor on another woman.” He reached over and pinched her cheek.

Cheryl had to steel herself to keep from bolting.
Two more days
, she thought,
just two more days and I’m out of here.

The police chief and two of his nosy detectives owed her big.

“Thank you, Mr. Toledo. I appreciate your compliments, but if I am to be finished by the weekend, I ought to be out there working. Was there something especially that you wanted to see me for?”

He leaned back with a slight disappointment on his ruddy face. “You got that pretty dress picked out yet?” He resumed eating, stuffing the large quantities of food into his mouth.

“Mr. Toledo, I’m not comfortable using someone else’s money for clothes. But I will come to your party in a nice dress. Honest.” She forced a smile of assurance, she hoped.

“Got some important people coming. I need pretty women around to make them comfortable. You know what I mean?” He lifted his fork and raised his eyebrows to stare at her. “Be extra money in it if you stick around.”

Cheryl stood up to leave. “I understand, sir, and I will try to help Francine host your company. But I won’t be able to stay very long. I run a business, as you are aware.”

“Don’t you worry about that. Plenty of business coming your way if I say so. Just keep your mind on what’s going on this week end and you won’t regret it.” He leaned forward and pinched her on the arm laughing heartily again.

Rubbing her arm, Cheryl slipped out of the kitchen without another word. A bruise was already making an appearance.

Enough is enough.
She stormed into the garden, all the peace from the day of planting gone. Tom looked up and waved to her, but she was too cross to answer. To top it off, she spotted Larkin, the Pretend Gardener, across the yard. She walked across to him, picked up a clump of sod, and threw it at his back. “You got me into this. Every time I get within ten feet of you, trouble comes knocking.” He reached up and pulled her by the arm to hide behind another newly planted shrub.

“Cher, honey! They can see you from the house. You wanna blow our whole operation?” He put his arms around her and gently squeezed.

She could hear him sniffing her hair. “In the first place, this is not my operation. You tend to forget that. I am only into this as a favor to your boss. I plant gardens. I do not spend my time catching criminals. That is your gig.
Not
mine.” She shrugged away from him.

Tom rounded the corner and stared at both of them.

“Am I missing something here?” he asked. “You know this fellow, Cheryl? Yes, of course you do. You wanna tell me what’s going on?” He looked from Cheryl to David, his pleasant face wrinkled in puzzlement and alarm. “Are you bothering the boss?” he asked, looking at Larkin who shook his head no.

Cheryl nodded yes with a wicked side-glance at David.

“Aww, Cher. I’m sorry I had to ask you to do this. Honest, I am. I want you to know I was against it, but we really needed someone on the inside.”

As he listened, the alarm on Tom’s face grew and he stepped between Cheryl and David.

“You’re fired, Larkin. Get your things and get out.”

David turned toward him with surprise as if he’d only just noticed the landscaper.

Cheryl decided David deserved the mess he’d made for himself and stalked off leaving the detective to untangle his affairs as best he could. She turned back momentarily to speak to Tom.

“He’s not a threat, Tom. Only a nuisance. I do think he owes you an explanation. I have work to do. We need to finish this job in two days. Think we can make it?”

Tom, still obviously upset, nodded yes, but kept his eyes on Larkin.

As she moved to the other side of the garden, Cheryl could hear the fake landscaper’s voice as he tried to convince Tom not to fire him. Tom was a good man and deserved better treatment. If Larkin didn’t fess up, she would enlighten the landscaper herself. She needed all the protection she could get.

Guns! Did Toledo have guns?
The sudden thought terrified her. Of course he had a gun. Didn’t she see him with one with her own eyes out at the old mansion? And someone had already been killed, never mind that he was a suspected criminal. He was still someone who had been shot.

She couldn’t believe she was still involved with Toledo. Why didn’t she just refuse to cooperate? She sank to her knees beside the flat of marigolds. The pungent fragrance of the plants soothed her, and she resumed her planting, pausing to admire how the blue of the urn was accented by the gold of the marigolds. She’d used a reoccurring theme of gold and blue throughout the garden. Her thoughts drifted as they would when she relaxed with her work. Thank goodness for marigolds. For fast color they couldn’t be beat. They would liven up the new plantings and hold their own all summer well into fall. She was a firm admirer of the marigold in all its forms. These were only twelve inches high, but their heads were fully four inches across.

The afternoon passed by quickly and she rubbed her tired shoulders, straightening and stretching. Tom and Larkin both had disappeared. She wondered if David had talked Tom out of firing him, but it was not her problem. She had enough on her plate. She gathered her tools and headed for the driveway where she had left her car. She saw Francine standing at the window, but she didn’t return the wave Cheryl gave her.

On the way home, Cheryl stopped at the corner mini-mart and picked up a rotisserie chicken. Too tired to cook, she knew this would last her a couple of days. She pulled into her driveway with a sigh of relief. Never had a job been as stressful as this one had turned out to be.

Cher grinned when Ganymede squawked a greeting as she opened the blinds and flipped the open sign in the window. Who knew? Perhaps another paying client would drift in her door.

Cheryl took the parrot on her arm and entered the kitchen, where she kept a perch as well, although it was her personal preference not to interact with the bird. But she had promised her grandmother to look after the parrot. Gany tilted her head sideways to inspect the food package on the table.

“Sorry, Gany. But it wasn’t parrot. You’re probably a bit sensitive about birds in general, I guess.” She washed her hands and put the teakettle on to boil, then prepared a plate with leaves of lettuce and a sliced tomato. Pulling a leg off of the chicken, she sat down in the kitchen chair with a tired thump and started eating. Her head was drooping, and she thought longingly of her bed.

She washed and put her dishes away hoping the tea would revive her to work on the proposed putting green. Even if she hadn’t decided to take the job, still the task intrigued her. She took out a sketchpad and was soon moving trees and shrubs around on paper. Her eyes began to droop, and she rested her head on her arms for just a second.

“Awk! Naughty Boy!”