Seed No Evil (16 page)

“No, I asked if we were getting together for dinner.”

Without turning his head, he asked, “Tonight?”

“No, next Saturday.”

“Next Saturday is our wedding.”

“Marco, who are you watching?”

He finally looked at me. “What?”

“Never mind. Did you talk to the fiscal director at PAR?”

“John Bradford. Yes, I did. He told me that Bev had been reviewing the PAR account ledgers when he left the office last Friday. He didn't think anything of it because Bev was in the habit of doing random bookkeeping checks, and he didn't think she'd found any problems because she didn't say anything to him on Monday. But when he got to work on Tuesday morning, he had an e-mail in his in-box from Bev saying that she wanted to meet with him at lunchtime regarding some funds that had been moved. I asked John if he had any idea what she'd meant, and he said he assumed Bev had shifted money around and just wanted to let him know. Apparently, she'd done it before.”

“When had Bev sent the e-mail?” I asked.

“Monday at four twenty-seven p.m.”

“Then our time line is that Bev reviewed the books during the day on Friday, then consulted with Dayton Blaine about firing Emma, sent an e-mail to John, then left the PAR building and went to the animal shelter.”

“You can insert that Bev threatened to fire Emma on Monday afternoon, too. I phoned Bev's assistant, Holly, to double-check what she'd told us before, and she remembered very clearly that Emma ran out of Bev's office on Monday afternoon crying. And don't forget, Emma told us herself that Bev had threatened to fire her.”

“Except Emma said that Bev had threatened to fire her because she was moonlighting, not because she took money.”

“Which would you own up to?”

“Good point. So we now have two suspects who lied to us.”

“After I spoke with John and Holly, I asked to talk to Emma, but Holly said Emma had called off today. I tried to reach her on her cell phone, but so far she hasn't returned my call.”

“She's probably hoping to avoid us,” I said.

“If she's smart, she'll realize that avoiding us will make her look guilty. I'm hoping she'll call me back so I can set up a meeting with her this evening, but not at the bar. I don't want Rafe interrupting again.”

“If you do hear from Emma,” I said, “try to schedule the meeting after seven o'clock. I have to go for my gown fitting at six thirty.”

“Abby! Marco!”

I looked around and saw Jillian coming across the park from the direction of Bloomers. She wasn't pushing the baby stroller this time. Instead, she was cuddling something against her chest. When she got closer, I could see that she was wearing what looked like a black baby sling over her T-shirt.

“Here you are,” she said breathlessly, plopping down beside me on the bench.

“What do you have on?” I asked.

She turned toward me so I could see the papooselike device that crisscrossed her front. Inside was a bundle wrapped in a familiar-looking pink baby blanket. “It's a baby wrap. It keeps the baby close so she can hear her mommy's heartbeat. Want to try it on?”

“No, thanks,” I said.

“Oh, go ahead; try it.” She removed the bundle inside and thrust it into Marco's unsuspecting arms. “You can hold the baby while I get Abby suited up.”

“I'm not putting that thing on, Jillian,” I said, hopping to my feet, drawing the attention of several women strolling past.

“Fine.” Jillian turned to Marco, who was fumbling with the rolling sack of potatoes. “You look good, Uncle Marco.”

Marco stood up and promptly handed the blanket-wrapped sack to me, mumbling, “I have to get back to the bar. See you at five.” He nodded to Jillian and strode off.

“What's his hurry?” Jillian asked.

“Jillian, no guy wants to cradle a pink-wrapped sack of potatoes in his arms in the middle of a public park, and, yes, he's a non-supporter just like me. Get over it.”

“You're cruel.”

“Jillian, honestly, have you ever come across any other young women who are going to the same lengths as you are to prepare for an upcoming birth?”

“I'm not your average young woman, so don't even try to compare.” She inserted the bundle in the sling, then sat down. “Is business still slow? Is that why you're out in the park today instead of at work?”

“Yes, business is still slow,” I said, sitting down beside her, “but I came out here to have lunch with Marco. What about your business?”

“I have a new client,” Jillian said excitedly. “I'm meeting with her at seven o'clock this evening. Tara said she'd babysit.”

“You really asked Tara to sit with your—” I pointed to the bulge under her sling. I couldn't bring myself to call it a baby.

“Of course I did. I take this very seriously, Abs.”

I couldn't imagine that Tara would take it seriously. But if Jillian was willing to pay, I had no doubt but that Tara would be willing to accept her money.

Jillian got up and adjusted her load. “Okay, I'm off to work out with my personal trainer. I do special pregnancy exercises with her. I'll give you her card so that someday you can . . . Hey, isn't that Rafe coming this way?”

I peered around Jillian for a look and saw Rafe strolling along the path toward me, holding hands with a familiar-looking young woman.

“Looks like Rafe has a new girlfriend,” Jillian said.

She was new, all right. Emma Hardy. Just the person I needed to see, although I doubted she'd be thrilled to see me.

I ducked behind Jillian and waited.

“H
i, Rafe!” Jillian called, waving.

I waited until I could see their legs; then I stood up next to Jillian and pretended to be surprised. “Hey, you two.”

“Hi, Abs!” Rafe said, smiling broadly, while Emma's eyes widened in surprise.

“Hello again, Emma,” I said. Then at Jillian's elbow nudge in my side, I whispered to my cousin, “I was going to introduce you.” I smiled at Emma and said, “Emma Hardy, this is my cousin Jillian Osborne.” At the second elbowing, I said, “Jillian owns a personal shopping service called Chez Jillian.”

“And just so you know,” Jillian said, “I'm always willing to take on a new client. And you do look ready for a makeov—”

“Jillian,” I said loudly, causing her to jump, “you're going to be late for your workout.”

“You're right. Nice to meet you, Emma, and don't forget what I said.
Ciao
, Rafe. Okay, Abs, I'm off to exercise.”

“I didn't know your cousin had a baby,” Rafe said, as Jillian hurried away.

“She doesn't,” I said. “She's rehearsing.”

“Rehearsing for a baby?” Rafe asked.

“It's a long story,” I said, “and not worth going into. You just missed your brother, by the way.”

“That's okay,” Rafe said with a roll of his eyes. “I see way too much of Marco. I don't know how you put up with him.”

Emma was edging away, tugging Rafe along with her.

“Hey, Emma,” I said, startling her, “I need to talk to you about Bev Powers.”

“I don't know how I could be of any more help,” she said. “I've told you everything I know.”

I pretended to search my purse. “Darn, I left my notes at Bloomers. Tell you what. Why don't we sit down for a short chat this evening at the Daily Grind coffee shop?”

Emma glanced at Rafe. “We sort of made plans, right?”

“We did?” Rafe asked, clearly puzzled. “I'll be at the bar until midnight.”

“Then it'll work,” I said to Emma with a smile. “We'll meet you at seven thirty.”

“You and Marco?” she asked, sounding hesitant. “I don't know . . .”

It was the first time I'd ever encountered a female who did not want to sit down with Marco. Then again, he had pulled the rug out from under Emma at our last meeting.

“Just you and me, then,” I said. “We'll have some girl time. I'll buy the coffee.”

Her eyes, which were not twinkling at that moment, searched my face, as though trying to deduce my true intentions. With an unhappy shrug, she said, “I guess so.”

“Perfect. I have to run now. See you tonight. Bye, Rafe.” I turned and started across the park at a quick stride so Emma wouldn't have time to change her mind.

Before I reached Bloomers, I phoned Marco and told him what had transpired. “I thought she'd feel more pressure to show up if she knew I'd be waiting there by myself.”

“Good thinking.”

“Let's go over the questions at dinner like we did last night. That worked well.”

“Sure.”

Dead silence followed.

“Marco?”

“Sorry. I was just going over some accounting. We can talk more later.”

“That's fine. I'm back at Bloomers now and it looks like your mom is gone.”

“Uh-huh.”

He wasn't listening.

“So other than three little green men with horns sticking up out of the tops of their heads, Bloomers is back to normal.”

“Good. I'll see you after five.”

I slipped my cell phone into my purse and stepped into Bloomers. Marco was quite clearly distracted. Why wouldn't he talk to me about it?

“Hey, sweetie,” Lottie said, “you've got orders on your spindle.”

“Really?” Maybe those flyers were working after all. “How many?”

“Well, just two. But both customers asked for the discount we advertised, so at least people are paying attention to the flyers.”

“Two is better than nothing,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “I'll get on them right away. How did Francesca do this morning?”

“She was fine, love,” Grace said, gliding out of the parlor. “Francesca works well under pressure, and not everyone can do that. And you'll be happy to know we sold out of all the scones, so I thought I'd make a bigger batch to sell tomorrow.”

“That's great, Grace, but please turn in your receipts so I can reimburse you for your expenses.”

“Perhaps we can use the money we made on scones to put toward the plumbing bill,” Grace said.

“It should also go to the printer to pay for the flyers,” Lottie said, as she tidied up the cash counter.

“We have a credit at the printer for that,” Grace said.

“Don't forget we still have to pay off that new back door,” Lottie said.

“We may need to run a bake sale all week,” Grace said.

Feeling more depressed than ever, I left them discussing the bills and went through the curtain to work on the orders. Surrounding myself with fresh, fragrant blossoms was always a mood booster. I just wished I had more than two arrangements to make. There were a lot of flowers to use up before they went bad.

At three fifteen, Tara came bouncing into the workroom and hopped up onto a stool to watch me prep a big delivery of roses that had just come in. “What's up?” she asked.

“Nothing much on my end, but you look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”

“A cat ate a canary?
Ew.
That's gross.”

“It's a saying, Tara. It means you've got a secret.”

“A secret,” she said, her eyes lighting up, “that I'm going to share with
you.
Guess what Grandma and I are going to do in ten minutes. Okay, you'll never guess. We're going to the animal shelter. Yay!”

“This isn't your volunteer day.”

“I know, but I told Grandma about Seedy and Seedling, and she totally got how much I want to visit them, so I asked if she would take me there after school today and she said yes! She even promised not to tell Dad and Mom until the time was right. Isn't Grandma amazing?”

“She's a cool grandmother,” I said. I only hoped my brother and sister-in-law would be okay with it when they found out.

“Why don't you come, too? I really want you to meet Seedy and her puppy.”

Hmm.
My spindle was empty. There was no reason I couldn't go—and there was even a reason why I should. It would be the perfect opportunity to question Stacy Shaw about her lie.

“I have to be back at five,” I said.

“No problem. I do, too. So you'll go?”

“Sure. I'd love to.”

“Awesome! I'll text Grandma and tell her to pick us both up here.”

•   •   •

Standing in their usual positions behind the reception counter at the animal shelter, the Friendly Sisters informed me that Stacy was on a conference call in her office and wouldn't be available for at least ten minutes, so I joined my mother and Tara in the dog ward. Tara was bouncing excitedly as Brian brought the puppy, Seedling, out to a small play area. I couldn't help but smile as Tara got down on her knees and cuddled the caramel brown furball against her body.

“Isn't Seedling amazing?” Tara asked, as the puppy galloped around her, yipping excitedly and wagging his little tail so hard, I thought it would fly off.

“He's darling, Tara,” Mom said. “Abigail, you need to work on your brother.”

“I will, but let's give Jordan time to get used to Tara working here first,” I said.

“What if someone wants to adopt him?” Tara asked, as the pup chewed on her fingers. “I'd just die if that happened.”

“Do you know if Tara can put a hold on Seedling?” I asked my mom.

“I'll have to ask,” Mom said, then whispered to me, “But what will we do if Jordan and Kathy say no?”

Tara heard her anyway. “Aunt Abby won't let them say no. Right, Auntie A?”

“I'll go find out if it's possible to hold the puppy,” Mom said.

“Where's Seedy?” Tara asked Brian.

“I wasn't sure you wanted me to bring her out since you have family here,” Brian said. To me, he said quietly, “Seedy turns a lot of people off.”

“Of course we want you to bring Seedy out,” Tara said, clearly wounded by his comment.

Brian walked down the row of cages until he found the one he wanted. He opened the door and reached inside to bring out one of the dogs; then, holding what looked like a pile of twigs covered with scruffy fur, he walked toward us.

“Here she is,” he said, and set Seedy down in the play area beside Tara, who immediately scooped her up and hugged her.

“Look at this face, Aunt Abby,” Tara said, turning so I could see the sad little dog staring back at me. “Isn't this a face to melt your heart?”

There was nothing cute about Seedy. She had large, pointed ears that stood straight up, with tufts of hair on top that fanned out at all angles, brown eyes that had seen a lifetime of misery, a foxlike face with bristly whiskers on her muzzle, and protruding lower teeth. Her coat was a mix of brown, black, and tan in fur of uneven heights, her tail was raggedy, and she was missing her left hind leg.

As I reached out to scratch her behind her ears, Seedy's eyes searched mine, as though looking for kindness. I couldn't help but smile at her, if only to reassure her that I meant no harm. At that she began to wiggle in Tara's arms until Tara had to set her down. Seedy immediately hobbled up to me, so I crouched down and put out my hand for her to sniff.

“Seedy likes you, Aunt Abby,” Tara said, returning to the puppy. “She's usually afraid of people.”

After a few sniffs, Seedy licked my fingers, then pushed her muzzle under my arm so I'd pet her. I ran my hand down her head and back and felt the sharp bones of her spine poking through. Clearly she'd been in a bad way for some time. Now at least she had food and a safe place to sleep, even if it was a wire cage. Surely that was better than being put to sleep.

Seedy sat down on her haunches and let me stroke her, gazing up at me with big adoring eyes as though she'd found an owner.

I fell backward onto my rear. “No, no. Not me,” I said, as the dog hobbled closer to me. “I can't take you home.”

“Of course you can't,” Tara said. “I'm going to take her. Come here, Seedy.”

But the dog sat down right in front of me and watched my face, wagging her tail as though to say, “I like you. Don't you like me?”

Geez.
What was I supposed to say? I'd never seen an uglier dog, or a more pathetic one. I wasn't even a dog person; I'd always preferred cats. So why was this mutt calling to me?

The puppy came over to his mother's side, and Seedy turned to lick his little face. The two romped together for a while; then Seedling galloped back to Tara and leaped into her arms, licking her face and panting with his little tongue hanging out one side of his mouth.

“I see you've met Seedy,” Mom said, coming to stand next to me. She reached down to stroke the dog's head. “Quite a sad little thing, isn't she?”

“She's really horrible looking,” I said, rising.

“Why are you smiling?” Mom asked.

“I'm smiling? I guess I was thinking about something else.” Because I definitely was
not
thinking about adopting that dog. Or any animal for that matter. Not now. The timing was all wrong.

“You can see why no one has adopted her.” Mom crouched down and reached out a hand for Seedy to sniff. “Surely someone will take pity on this poor little girl, because if not . . .” She sighed sadly.

I had the strongest urge to scoop up that homely mutt and run out the door with her. But that was crazy thinking. Besides, I wasn't even sure that Marco liked dogs.

“What did you find out, Grandma?” Tara asked, cuddling both dogs.

“Mrs. Shaw said she'd hold Seedling for no more than a week.”

“A week?” I asked. “That's all?”

“Looks like you've got your work cut out for you, honey,” Mom said, putting her arm around me.

Like I needed more to do before my wedding.

“What about Seedy?” Tara asked.

“Mrs. Shaw said Seedy wouldn't be a problem,” Mom said, giving me a knowing look.

“That reminds me,” I said. “I need to go talk to Stacy. I'll be back shortly.”

I left the dog ward and went up the hallway to Stacy's office. The door was closed, so I knocked. At her brisk, “Come in,” I opened the door and stuck my head in.

“Hello, again,” I said with a smile.

Although I hadn't thought it possible, Stacy's hair seemed more bouffant than the last time I'd seen her. She was seated at her desk, wearing a black blazer over a tight mint green blouse that showed plenty of cleavage, huge silver hoops on her ears, and stacks of silver bracelets on each wrist.