Nabbed in the Nasturtiums Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  About This Book

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  About Offed in the Orchids

  Get Your Free Book Now

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Copyright Page

  About This Book

  A new cozy mystery series from USA Today best-selling author Dale Mayer. Follow gardener and amateur sleuth Doreen Montgomery—and her amusing and mostly lovable cat, dog, and parrot—as they catch murderers and solve crimes in lovely Kelowna, British Columbia.

  Riches to rags … Chaos might be slowing … Only a new murder occurs … Sending her off the trail again …

  It’s been a tough few weeks since Robin and Mathew, Doreen’s ex-lawyer and her ex-husband, slid back into her life.

  Okay, so maybe Robin isn’t here any longer to cause torment, but Mathew is. And he’s not planning to leave Doreen alone anytime soon, although thankfully he’s gone back home for a while. Trying to recuperate looks doubtful for Doreen, when a local gardener is kidnapped, while picking nasturtiums for dinner.

  The case heats up when the missing man’s niece appears on Doreen’s doorstep, looking for help, including asking Doreen to accompany her to the police station.

  Not at all sure what’s going on, but willing to help someone in need—particularly after having been a suspect herself—Doreen tags along, looking to do her good deed for the day.

  But no good deed goes unpunished, and, when Mathew calls, Doreen gets more than she bargained for, including all the usual suspects: love, jealousy, and … greed. It takes everything from her feathered and furred critter team to keep her safe, as she digs to the bottom of yet another crazy case …

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  Prologue

  Several Days Later …

  Doreen was still babying herself, several days later, just sitting at home, doing a jigsaw puzzle that Richie had loaned her from the abundant supply they had at Rosemoor. Doreen had it spread out on the kitchen table, and it provided a mindless enjoyable fun that didn’t require abstract thinking. She wanted to get bored for a change and just relax. She had puttered around in the garden, made a sandwich, worked on the puzzle, then puttered in the garden some more. And that was about the extent of her days.

  When she heard a car door slam and footsteps, she smiled as Mugs raced to the front door, his tail wagging. When the front door opened, she peered around the corner and said, “Hey, Mack.”

  He walked in with groceries and said, “You up for some dinner?”

  “If I don’t have to do a single thing about it, absolutely.”

  He walked in, then frowned at her. “You’re still feeling down?”

  “It’s not so much about feeling down,” she said. “I’m just tired.”

  “Good,” he said, “a few more days of relaxation will be good for you.”

  “If you say so,” she said, with a smile. “I was thinking that it would be about time to pick up something else of interest, but so far nothing has really appealed.”

  “Again, good,” he said. “Maybe you’ll stay out of trouble for a change.”

  She laughed. “There isn’t anything for me to get into trouble with,” she said. “You’ve got everybody already locked up.”

  “Yes, that is quite true,” he said.

  She said, “I was thinking about looking at the Bob Small cases, but nothing jumped out at me for now. I didn’t find anything that sparked my interest. I need to look into the Solomon files but not just yet.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “That’s a pretty big serial killer case involving Bob Small,” he said. “It won’t be a case of a single crime.”

  “No, but he never was caught, was he? He was only a suspect.”

  “And we don’t know that he is to blame for any of them.”

  “One of the cases was in Vernon. A young woman, a model, who was found in an orchard. It was originally thought he was to blame, but they caught the killer. So they solved that one, didn’t they?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, they did. So it’s not a case for you.”

  She stretched, rolled her neck, and said, “Surely something interesting is happening around town, isn’t there?”

  “I thought you just said you would take a few more days off?”

  “I did, and I will,” she said, “but, as you know, we just finished up with the Murder in the Marigolds case.” He stopped, stared at her, and she chuckled and said, “Well, the name fits.”

  “So, what’s next then?” he asked in exasperation.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It could be all kinds of things.”

  At that, Mack’s phone buzzed. He looked down and frowned. “I will need a rain check on dinner.”

  “Why is that?”

  “We have a kidnapping,” he said, immediately racing to the front door.

  “What? What kind of a kidnapping?”

  “A gardener,” he said, looking at her. “A gardener was kidnapped while working in his garden.”

  “Wait,” she said. “Do you know what kind of flowers he had?”

  He frowned, shaking his head, and said, “What difference does it make?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe nothing.”

  He looked down at the text message on his phone. “Nasturtium. He was picking nasturtium flowers for a salad.”

  “Oh, one of those kinds of gardens,” she said, clapping her hands in delight. “Nasturtiums are lovely to eat.”

  He stared at her. “I’m gone.”

  And, with that, she felt all her fatigue falling away. She stepped out in the front yard and said, “Call me when you know more.”

  “Like heck I will,” he said. “Go back to your puzzle.”

  “Nope,” she said. “I’d rather work on yours.” And, with that, she gave him a huge fat grin and waved him off. She hoped the smile on her face brightened his mood, since he’d been worried about her, and clearly she was much happier now.

  Turning to the animals, she said, “Look at that. We have a new case to work on. It’s not a cold case, but it’s a case. Nabbed in the Nasturtiums.”

  Chapter 1

  Saturday Morning …

  Doreen worked hard, trying to stay on top of the news, but found no mention of the gardener nabbed in the nasturtium bed. It tickled her fancy to label it that, even though she didn’t know much about the poor man or his family. Or woman?

  What wasn’t funny was Mack’s attitude in keeping Doreen out of the loop, no matter who the victim. Mack could save her so much time researching on the internet. As an afterthought, Doreen wondered if that was not his whole intent, keeping her home, tied to her computer. No matter. After her research, she always headed outside anyway.

  She stopped to think about the gender of the gardener again. Nobody eve
r said that the kidnap victim was a male or a female. And did kidnapped mean the same thing as nabbed? She wasn’t so sure. Maybe the gardener had been stealing something, and somebody had nabbed him in the act? She didn’t know what that meant either. Either way, she was looking for any kind of news coverage, but so far it was mighty slim. But it got her thinking about other cases in town that might remain unsolved.

  What if somebody had been caught doing something, but, when they were taken in for questioning, maybe they disappeared? Or maybe somebody was supposed to get caught but never showed up to commit a crime that the police had a tip on? Or maybe somebody was kidnapped and was never found again? All these scenarios kept running through her head, and, of course, that just brought her back to the stack of newspaper clippings about the Bob Small case.

  Finally she gave up pretending to be disinterested, rose, pulled out the basket, and sorted the articles. Nan had said her friend had collected all these clippings, and that woman had clearly had a serious passion for it. Doreen didn’t know exactly what it was that had brought Nan’s friend to the point of following Small so much, but a quick text to Nan would hopefully get some answers. Nan immediately called her instead. As soon as she answered, Doreen said, “It was just a question, Nan.”

  “Why?” she asked, sounding absolutely thrilled. “Are you on another case?”

  “I’m just thinking about studying this basketful of newspaper clippings that you had here from your friend.”

  “Oh my,” she said, “that will take you quite a while to sort out. Are you sure you’re up to it?” she asked, her tone worried. “It’s a lot.”

  “I’m fine. I’m recovering nicely.”

  “Maybe you are,” she said, “but you’ve been under a lot of strain lately, and I don’t want you to overdo it.”

  “Wow,” Doreen said into her phone. “Are you sure you haven’t been talking to Mack?”

  “No, is he worried about you too?” Nan asked, sounding even more thrilled.

  “Of course he is,” she muttered. “He always worries about me. Even when there’s no need to.”

  “Of course he does. He cares, and anybody who cares worries,” she said. “So you really should do what you can to not cause them to worry.”

  At that, Doreen snorted. “In that case, I might as well crawl into a glass room and stay there.”

  That tickled Nan, as she burst out laughing with joy. “Oh, I do like to hear your train of thought these days. You do think differently than everybody else.”

  Doreen stared down at the phone. “I don’t think I do,” she said. “It seems pretty normal to me.”

  “What’s normal for you is not normal for everyone else.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “How many people do you think are out there, tracking down these cold cases?”

  “I’m intrigued every time I hear about these crimes, past or present. Most recently it’s because of the kidnapping that happened last night. I named the case Nabbed in the Nasturtiums, but, if he was kidnapped, then he wasn’t necessarily nabbed.”

  “It would be, I mean, if he was trying to evade somebody.”

  “Hmm,” Doreen said, as she thought about it. “I guess that would work too.”

  “Regardless,” Nan said, “you haven’t even told me about the case.”

  “I’ve been trying to find some news coverage all morning,” she said, “but it seems like Mack has managed to squeeze out the press.”

  “So tell me,” Nan said, her voice and tone elevated. “You always have such interesting tidbits before anyone else does.”

  “I don’t really know anything, and you know I don’t like to be kept out of the loop.”

  “You might not like it, but Mack sure wants to keep you out of it. He’s only thinking of your safety, dear.”

  “That may be,” Doreen said in a grumpy voice. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “Besides, that Bob Small stuff,” Nan said, with a sad note, “it tore apart a lot of people. Especially my girlfriend.”

  “Mack says he was involved in a lot of investigations that may have involved Bob Small,” she muttered.

  “More than a lot. A lot is a euphemism. In this case I think we’re talking like fifty or sixty cases,” Nan said quietly. “That’s an awful lot of families who were torn apart.”

  “But nobody was ever charged?” Doreen asked in horror.

  “That’s because the man died.”

  “I don’t think he did,” Doreen said, frowning, looking at what she had written down. “I think he went to jail for something completely unrelated.”

  “It would be ironic if he spent a lifetime in jail for something unrelated to all the killings he was involved in.”

  “Do we know for sure that he was involved in the killings?” Doreen asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Nan said.

  “You seem awfully adamant.”

  “My girlfriend was very adamant and committed to making sure that this man paid for his crimes.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “No, and she has passed away now,” Nan said sadly. “So no justice there.”

  “Oh, Nan, I’m so sorry. I thought she was living in the Lower Mainland.”

  “She passed away recently, but I didn’t even know. I told you that I would call her a while back. Remember? I didn’t get it done, and then, out of the blue one day, I called,” she said. “And, when I did, I found out she’d already passed. It broke my heart. I so wish I had at least called earlier, so I could have said goodbye.”

  “I’m so sorry, Nan,” Doreen said. “That is rough.”

  “It is. Life is full of regrets, and you have to minimize the ones you can.”

  “I gather she had a personal reason for following this Small guy?”

  “Her niece,” Nan said. “Her niece died many years ago. The crime was never solved, and she put it down to this Bob Small guy.”

  “Did she have any proof, evidence, photos, or even a time line? Anything?”

  “I don’t know,” Nan said. “I do know that I’m getting some of her belongings though. You can take a look, when they get here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I called and learned of her death, her granddaughter asked if I wanted her books. And I said yes. She said she had also found some notebooks, some journals in there too, and I said that would be lovely too. I guess they don’t quite know what to do with her personal belongings. None of us ever really do. When we die, we leave all this stuff,” she said. “It’s only important to us while we’re alive, and, after we’re dead, it’s a burden for others to dispose of, as it’s not important to anybody anymore.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Doreen said. “You had filled your house with antiques, specifically for me to do what I wanted with. I chose to put them up for auction, at some point getting cash instead, which you were perfectly happy with. If you had passed on at any time after that, I would still have been eternally grateful for your stuff.”

  Nan chuckled. “And how do you feel about the stuff I have with me here?”

  “I highly doubt you have very much,” Doreen said. And then she hesitated, before adding, “Or do you?”

  “It doesn’t seem like much, but I’m sure, when you start clearing it out, whenever the time comes,” she said, “you’ll think it’s too much anyway.”

  “I want you over your things, Nan. But once … but then,” she said, “I’ll treasure everything you have. And please let’s not talk about your demise anymore,” she said. “I was having a good day, and I really don’t want to start crying.”

  “Oh dear,” she said. “If it makes you feel any better, go ahead and look into this Bob Small thing. I’ll let you know when Hinja’s boxes get here and if there’s anything of interest.”

  “Okay, will do,” she said. “Oh, Nan, what was her niece’s name?”

  “Annalise. Annalise Bergmont,” she said. “A really lovely girl.”

  “Do you rem
ember what happened?”

  “She was coming home from ballet practice—I think it was—some sort of dance anyway. It was early evening. Her class was like at six to seven that night. And she was fifteen years old. Her mom let her go on her own all the time, and she would walk home afterward. One day she just never came home.”

  “Was her body ever found?”

  “No, it sure wasn’t. Nothing.”

  “Oh, gosh, those are the hardest cases,” Doreen murmured. “To have no answers, no closure, that’s the worst of it all.”

  “To not have them come home is the worst part,” Nan said, “but no answers makes for a lifetime of looking over your shoulder, wondering what you could have done differently and how you could have saved her, when it’s way past the time when you could have done anything.”

  “I think living with the regrets, living with the what-ifs, that makes it very difficult,” Doreen admitted. “Maybe it’s a good thing I never had any kids.”

  “No, and it’s not too late yet,” she said, “if you would give Mack a little more encouragement.” And, with that, she laughed and hung up on her.

  Doreen stared down at her phone, but it was hard because, all of a sudden, she was beset with ideas and images of having Mack’s baby. “What a bad idea,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. “I like the man, but I’m not sure I’m ready to start a family with him.” Best to not go there. “Besides, I’ve never been around a little kid in my life.”

  “Thaddeus is here. Thaddeus is here.”

  She looked to see Thaddeus strutting at her feet. “I know. I’m not my usual high-energy self, am I? And you guys are all probably wondering what’s going on. But still, I might have a new case—or at least something to think about. That’ll make me feel better.”

  She looked around for the rest of her crew of animals, smiled, and asked, “Hey, do you guys want to go for a walk?”

  Immediately when Mugs heard the magical word, he jumped up and barked. That got Goliath all excited, who’d been sleeping in a tiny ball on one of the two pot chairs in the living room. If there were such a thing as tiny, when it came to a cat of that size. But he came over to join Doreen, hopped up onto the kitchen table, and proceeded to shoot one leg sky-high and clean his butt.