A Deadly Bouquet (27 page)

“A front is moving in,” said Dad. “The wind has changed. It's blowing from the north.”

With one hand on the steering wheel, I leaned out the window. The faint, lilting notes of the harp drifted on air currents. I almost smiled. “Music,” I said. “Maybe I'm wrong.”

The words were barely out of my mouth when I saw the path that led to Tranquility Garden. Where was the limousine? Where was the bridal party? Where was the bride?

I slammed the SUV into park and left the vehicle blocking traffic. Jumping out, I said, “Dad, stay here in case you need to move my car. I have to see what's going on.”

I sprinted across the tarmac, my gaze on the path. I didn't see Evelyn until she stepped from the shadow of a tree. She wore a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. I tried to be calm, gesturing to her informal attire. “Has the theme of this elegant wedding been changed?”

“Don't come any closer, Bretta,” Evelyn warned softly. “You're not going to stop me.”

No need for pretense. “You're Alice's daughter. Your sister was Erica. Both were killed in a fire.”

“You've been busy.”

“Evelyn, think about what you're doing. Think about Nikki.”

“There is no Nikki. It's a hoax.”

“But why a wedding?”

“Because Sonya, Claire, Dana, and Kasey's professions made that seem the most workable solution. If they'd been nurses, teachers, secretaries, I'd have made their acquaintance, then planned a huge party toward the same end.”

“How did Claire figure out you were the sister of the girl who died?”

“Family resemblance. I think Oliver saw it, too, but he died before he could say too much. He was kind to my sister and me. He taught us the meaning of flowers and showed us how to plant an herb garden. But most of all, he helped me get through the funeral by letting me—”

“—use his precious spade to put dirt on their grave?”

Evelyn nodded. “I feel bad that Oliver died. As for Claire, I didn't go to the beauty shop with the intention of killing her. I only wanted to find out what information she hoped to get from Lydia Dearborne. But Claire made me furious. She pointed to my sister's picture on her ceiling and told me she'd painted it because it was cathartic—a way of purging her past indiscretions.”

Evelyn's voice rose in outrage. “That woman classed the deaths of my mother and sister as an indiscretion.”

“And you killed Lydia because—”

Evelyn regained control and spoke quietly. “She was a loose end from the past. I couldn't be sure what Claire might have told her. I wanted to go to Lydia's house immediately after I'd killed Claire, but you came into the shop. I had to see what you were up to. By the time I got to Lydia, her sister and daughter had come to visit. They were innocents. I couldn't kill them. So I took a chance and waited until Lydia's company had gone away.”

“Did Claire come right out and ask if you were the daughter who'd escaped the fire?”

“Not in so many words. For weeks now, she'd tried to trip me up. She asked hundreds of questions, but I always had pat answers. Many times I thought I'd thrown her off my trail by talking about this bogus wedding. But Claire kept prying and prying. I'd drop into her shop every so often, just as I did with you and the others. The rest of you were oblivious, but Claire was different. All those years ago, she sent me gifts. Once she even called, to see if I was happy and settled in my new life.”

Evelyn stopped to look at her wristwatch. “I was a child, but as I grew older, I'd think about the woman in River City who had seemed so concerned but wouldn't tell me her name other than Claire. In her letter she said she was graduating high school with three of her closest friends. I kept the letter because it was a tie to River City and to the family I'd lost.”

Evelyn glanced at her watch again and said hastily, “Last year my aunt passed away. As I was going through her belongings and mine, I came across the letter. When I read those words with adult eyes, I had this horrible feeling that Claire's concern was motivated by guilt. I had to know the truth, so I made the decision to move to River City. From the first time I met Claire, she said I looked familiar. Then she painted my sister's picture on the ceiling of the beauty shop. Putting my sister's image up there was cruel.”

“Why cruel?”

“Because Claire was my sister's killer.”

“It was an accident, Evelyn. Those girls were burning off the field to preserve an endangered plant.”

Evelyn laughed bitterly. “Save the plant. Kill my family. It was a lousy plan.”

I waved my hand to our surroundings. “All this work, all the money you've spent, was for revenge?”

Evelyn nodded. “Yes. To bring grief to the girls who killed my mother and sister. To wreak havoc on a town that didn't care enough to investigate the deaths. I've looked at back issues of the newspaper. Do you know my family's murder didn't rate more than a tiny story at the bottom of the front page? They were dead. My life was forever changed. But this town didn't care.”

Evelyn bent down and carefully picked up an open container. “Tonight, River City will care. They'll see the light.”

Before I could draw a breath, she hurled the can under a cedar tree. I saw the arc of liquid. I smelled the gasoline vapors. She struck a match.

“Nature's own bomb,” Evelyn said, tossing the flame.

The gas ignited with a
whoosh.
The fire leaped up the cedar tree, found dry tinder, and exploded into an inferno. Sparks leaped and whirled on the rising wind. With choreographed precision, the blaze spread to the shrubs I'd painted and Lew had touched up with lacquer. The natural moisture trapped in the leaves was no contest for this heat. The flammable material combusted and the shrubs were aflame.

In horror, I said, “Are you insane?”

Evelyn shook her head. “Not at all. I'm well aware of what I'm doing.” She cocked her head. Screams came from the area where the guests had been entertained by the music.

I started in that direction but glanced back at Evelyn. She was on the move. With everything else so well planned, she would have to have an escape route. But Evelyn didn't head for the parking lot. She took off into the woods.

In the midst of this heat, an icy finger of fear crawled up my spine. Evelyn had years of hatred bottled inside. Was the wedding in the park her only scheme? Did she intend to burn all of River City?

I ran after her.

I wasn't sure where we were headed, but I crashed into the underbrush about twenty yards away from the wedding fiasco. This part of the park hadn't been tamed. I caught a shadowy glimpse of Evelyn ahead of me, off to my right. I angled that way and found a hiker's path. Picking up speed, I gained on her, but the climb grew steeper. Before long I was huffing and puffing.

The fire raged at my back, but off in the distance I heard sirens. Damage control was headed for the park, courtesy of Bailey or my father. However, Evelyn was still on the loose. I hoped my being on her trail might keep her from committing another horrendous act.

I've run for my life before, but I've never been the aggressor. I wasn't comfortable with the role. What would I do if I caught up to her? What was her strategy? I believed she had one. She'd plotted an entire wedding, down to the minutest detail, with the thought of achieving this devastating finale.

Fear forced me to put one foot in front of the other. Behind me, in the direction of Tranquility Garden, was a series of explosions. I assumed this was the specially blended oil for the hurricane lamps.

I quickened my pace, and the trail began to level out. I looked up and saw Evelyn silhouetted against the night sky. She posed there briefly, seemed to stare straight at me, then she disappeared over the horizon. I plugged onward until I came to the spot where she'd vanished.

I turned and saw Evelyn hadn't been staring at me but at her handiwork. Fueled by an insatiable appetite, the fire leapfrogged from treetop to treetop. Sparks sprinkled the earth, igniting the underbrush. Like ground troops, the flames advanced at a rapid rate, energized by the rising wind.

I started down the hill, lost my footing, and made the journey on my butt. My ungainly passing raked up moldy leaves. The musty odor mixed with the acrid smoke made my eyes water. When I hit the bottom of the gorge, I wiped my eyes on my shirttail. With my vision cleared, I searched for some landmark that would tell me where I was in relation to the park.

The night seemed brighter, and I thought the moon had come out. But it had a surreal glow. I looked up at the ridge. The fire had spread at a heart-stopping rate. It was above the gorge. I blinked, and the flames swooped toward me. Stumbling to my feet, I wanted to shout—
I'm not the enemy
—but this army knew no friend or foe. It would take no prisoners. Its mission was death and destruction.

I ran down the gorge, unsure of where I was going, but I didn't have a choice. I couldn't see what lay on the other side of the embankment. I couldn't see what was ahead of me. Suddenly, the terrain changed. Waist-high blades of grass grabbed at my jeans, sliced into the flesh of my arms. My feet sank into spongy soil.

I stopped in my tracks to take stock of where I might be, and saw Evelyn. I'd temporarily put her out of my mind in my haste to get away from the fire. She was huddled at the base of a giant tree. Her eyes were closed.

I fought my way over to her. “Evelyn, the fire is headed our way.”

“I know.”

“Let's go.”

She opened her eyes. “This old tree looks like the ones that used to stand near our house. My sister and I played for hours under their branches. I'll die here.”

Evelyn spoke so calmly, I didn't immediately grasp her meaning. When I did, I was infuriated. “You led me on this merry chase so you could die at this spot?”

She stared at me. “I didn't invite you to follow me.”

“What would you expect me to do? Let you escape?”

She didn't answer, but closed her eyes. Her posture was that of a martyr—a Joan of Arc in blue jeans.

Well, fine. Let her stay. I was leaving. I took two steps past the tree. I couldn't do it. I swiveled on my toe and grabbed her arm. “You're coming with me.”

Evelyn jerked away. “I'm tired. I've done what I set out to do. Just let me die.”

Grimly, I stooped until we were nose to nose. “Not on your life.” I pulled her upright. “Let's go.”

She stared at me. “Why are you doing this? Why should you care what happens to me?”

I didn't answer, because I didn't know. She'd killed twice. Her fate should be to burn in hell, but that was for a higher court to decide. I tightened my grip on her arm.

Evelyn sighed and stood up. “At this point, I really don't care what happens to me.”

Encouraged but not completely convinced of her change of heart, I kept hold of her arm, and we loped down the gorge. The tall grass and the mushy ground were a hindrance. The fire was about fifty yards behind us. I could feel the blaze of heat breathing down my neck.

The cattails in our path were a surprise. The tall marsh plants with their fuzzy, cylindrical flower spikes batted us about the shoulders and face as we forged on. I kept moving, but Evelyn tried to hang back. I demanded, “What's your problem?”

“The lake is straight ahead. I don't know how to swim.”

“The lake?” I said. “If we can make it to the lake, we can jump in—”

“Not me,” said Evelyn.

I nodded behind us to the wall of fire. “And you're afraid of drowning?” I didn't give her a chance to reply. I towed her along, but finally had to let go of her arm. It took all my energy to get through the jungle of cattails. Evelyn limped next to me, mumbling about the water.

I glanced over my shoulder. The damp ground and green foliage had slowed the raging fire, but we were being attacked from a far greater danger. The slopes of the gorge—or, as I now knew, the spillway from the lake—contained driftwood, decayed trees. The wind whipped up the flames, making the dried wood burn like a funeral pyre. If we didn't hurry, the fire would edge past us and cut off our escape.

I needed more energy, more stamina for this dash to safety, but I floundered. My chest ached from sucking in the smoke. Each breath I took seared my lungs. The soggy ground tugged at my feet, slowing my progress. We were getting closer to the lake. But out of the corner of my eye, I saw the flames.

Embers rained down on us. Sparks showered us with pinpricks of pain when they landed on our flesh. In a dead heat, we raced the fire. For every step we took, the flames advanced two yards. Tears filled my eyes. We weren't going to make it. I thought of DeeDee. I thought of my father. I thought of Bailey.

I took another step and sank into knee-deep water. The cattails thinned out. We were at the lake's edge. There wasn't time for hesitation. I took Evelyn's arm and said, “I can swim, but you can't fight me.”

She nodded, and we took the plunge. My lifesaving skills wouldn't win an award. My swimming technique wouldn't get me into the Olympics. But at least we were out of the fire's deadly grip.

Behind us, there was a thunderous crash. I glanced back and saw a flaming tree had fallen across the spillway. Fiery projectiles splattered the water, sizzling on contact.

I didn't try to identify the tree's exact location. At some point I'd been in its path. My immediate problem was how to contend with Evelyn's stranglehold on my shirt. She kicked her feet ineffectually. I ordered her to stop. “Take a deep breath and float,” I said. “We aren't going far.”

The lake covered three acres. I had no intention of crossing it, but simply prayed for enough strength to get us to the closest shoreline. The will to live drove me through the inky water. I might be a smaller size than I was two years ago, but I've never been in good physical shape. My body had taken a severe beating when I'd chased Evelyn over hill and dell. Towing her through the water was almost more than I could endure. Sheer exhaustion forced me to stop swimming. I couldn't paddle another inch. I straightened my legs under me and felt the lake bottom.