Arsenic in the Azaleas Read online

  “You love that a body’s on your property?” Doreen stared at Nan for a long moment, wondering where her grandmother’s humorous reaction came from. As far as Doreen knew, her grandmother was one of the sweetest old ladies ever. On the other hand, sweet old everyday ladies could have a dark side. Doreen leaned forward and asked, “Nan, did you kill somebody and bury him in the backyard?”

  That sent Nan into absolute hilarity. By the time she finally calmed down, Doreen wondered if she should call somebody. Tears poured down the old woman’s face, and she held her sides to the point that she looked to be having a heart attack.

  Just as Doreen rose to race inside to get medical attention, Nan said, “Oh, my goodness, I needed that. You have no idea how boring my life has gotten lately. I’m so glad you decided to move to town, my dear.”

  Doreen settled back in her chair and stared at her grandmother. “So does that mean you did or did not murder somebody and bury him in the backyard?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her grandmother.

  Several more chuckles slipped out as Nan regained control. She wiped her eyes with a napkin from the table. “No worries. I never murdered anybody.” She pointed a finger at Doreen. “Now I might have wanted plenty to be murdered. But it’s just so messy.”

  Doreen stiffened at those last words. She knew her grandmother would never have been involved in a murder. But, when she said how it was too messy, Doreen fixed her gaze on her last living relative and asked, “How would you know it’s messy?”

  That sent Nan off again.

  Grumbling about being the center of so much laughter, Doreen reached for the teapot and poured the two of them some tea. Maybe that would help Nan calm down. Or maybe not. She appeared to be enjoying herself way too much.

  Chapter 6

  The walk home was bright and sunny. After an enjoyable hour with Nan, where it appeared she hadn’t had anything to laugh about in months, the two women had settled down to a nice chat. Nan tried to explain how the stove worked, but it was a bit too confusing for Doreen. Especially in the abstract, what with the ancient stove not on hand for an actual demonstration. The discussion on how the washing machine worked also went over her head. But she promised Nan that—somehow—she would figure it out.

  It seemed like Thaddeus had the best visit, as he’d spent much of his time on Nan’s shoulder, crooning and rubbing his beak along the older woman’s cheek.

  With tears in her eyes, Nan lightly stroked the beautiful bird. “The worst part was leaving the animals behind. I do so thank you for bringing them for a visit.” She stroked the sprawled-out cat, acting sedated around Nan—not like the hellion at the house earlier.

  “And I’ll bring them again. Besides, you can visit anytime you want,” Doreen said as she gave the woman a goodbye hug, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “Do take care.”

  “You take care, my dear. You’re the one who has a dead body in your garden.” And she snickered.

  “Murder is not exactly a joke, Nan,” Doreen admonished. “Let’s hope there’s no body at all.” She walked across the lawn, and Thaddeus flew to join her, perching on her shoulder. With Mugs happy to be once again on the march, and the cat lollygagging behind, the four of them slowly walked toward her house.

  She stopped on the little footbridge and stared at the happy creek bubbling under her. It really was a beautiful place here. She still hadn’t spent the night at the house or bought any food, so her dinner would be whatever traveling snacks she had left from her car trip.

  Doreen had lived in a world where food arrived on platters, beautifully presented. And now she lived in Nan’s world, where food was prepped overnight, and then something magical was done to it the next day. Or cans were opened up, she thought with a shudder.

  Since her separation, take-out and sandwiches were more the norm until even takeout cost too much.

  And all that kitchen magic from her mansion-living days was black magic to her now because Doreen had yet to make anything work in her grandmother’s kitchen, other than an electric teakettle. She sighed. Her new life was a challenge. But she had often thought she was bored before, so maybe this was a good challenge for her.

  As her little house came into sight, her good mood fell away. Some people were hanging about the yards nearby, watching her place. And the police were still there. Really? How long would it take them? How was she supposed to adapt and spend her first night in the house in this her latest version of “alone” when she wasn’t even alone?

  With a heavy sigh, she walked up the front porch steps and into the house. She unclipped the leash from Mugs, who ran to the back door and barked. Thaddeus jumped off her shoulder and flew to a tall perch in the living room. So that’s what that was for. She likely would’ve tossed it out otherwise. But Thaddeus stood tall and proud, surveying the world below him. Goliath slunk into the kitchen, probably to scare the bejesus out of Mugs. They were darn near the same size. She closed the front door, crossed into the kitchen to put her purse in a cabinet and stared out at the rear garden.

  She pushed the back door open and stepped onto the veranda, leading out to the adjoining deck in the yard. A half-dozen men were working underneath the wooden slats.

  “Did you find anything?” she asked.

  Chester, the younger police officer, popped his head out from under the deck and smiled at her. “There you are. Yes, it looks like we found something.”

  “Under the deck?”

  He nodded. “Appears somebody was buried underneath. It was a garden at one time. And this deck was built over the top.”

  She stepped back and looked at the deck, only six feet wide maybe. New planking was on the far side, above the spot where they searched. And, of course, a body was darn near the same size as this newer deck addition.

  Also a large cutout on the deck accommodated a huge azalea bush. How odd.

  She hadn’t really noticed the azalea growing through the decking or the new extension before now. But both made sense under the circumstances. And the police would surely destroy the newer deck area to get to whatever lay underneath.

  As she watched, one of the officers tested the supports and found several beams perpendicular to the ground with the newest deck section atop them. With four big strong men strategically positioned, they literally picked up this extension and moved it off to the side. Everyone stared down at the space below. Several flowering bulbs had sprouted through the ground but were suffering without sunlight.

  “Oh, my goodness. Those are begonias.”

  An officer pulled out the green-brownish shoots and stared at her in surprise. Then at the handful of gnarly bulbs he held. “What are they?”

  “Begonias,” she said in delight. “I didn’t realize they grew here. I figured the winters would be too hard.”

  “Lady, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” And he proceeded to dump his handful of bulbs onto the ground, off to the side.

  “Oh, be careful,” she cried out. “Those are beautiful plants. We need to give them a chance to grow.”

  All the men stopped to peer up at her, then looked at the backyard’s massive garden, completely overwhelmed with weeds and unruly overgrown bushes, and finally at each other.

  She frowned. “I just got here. Like five, six hours ago. You have to give me an opportunity to fix the garden before you judge me for it.”

  A similar piece of cardboard to the one the finger had been resting on had been discarded halfway under the railing. She snagged it up and then headed down the deck steps until she was at ground level. She picked up all the discarded begonias and placed them on the cardboard. “When you pull out more,” she instructed the policeman, “put them all here.”

  “Lady, this is a murder investigation,” the officer said. “We are not concerned about where we put the garbage.”

  “They are not garbage,” she snapped in outrage. “And, if you are pulling out any true garbage from this spot and are planning to throw it all over my property, the
n you’re wrong to do so in the first place. You can darn well get a garbage can or a garbage bag and put the trash in it.” She glared at him. “Do you understand me?”

  The cop who’d spoken turned to look at the others. Then he shrugged. He pulled up a few more of the bulbs and said, “Whatever.” But he did add those to the indicated cardboard.

  “That’s much better. Thank you.”

  The other officers rolled their eyes at her.

  “It’s not that hard to save a life.” Nobody had any appreciation for plants. She’d found that out a long time ago. It had been one of the hardest things to accept with her gardening staff. So often they were there for the job and didn’t give a darn about the plants. She’d had enough of that attitude.

  That wasn’t her. And, if she could get along with these policemen, then they would have to get along with her too.

  Suddenly one of the men gave a startled exclamation.

  The others rushed to his side. She looked where he pointed. All the men gathered around, squatting around something. She walked closer and peered over their shoulders.

  And, sure enough, a hand missing a finger poked through the dirt. “Oh, finally you found it. That’s excellent.” She beamed. “Now kindly remove it please.”

  Arnold, the older grizzled cop who she’d met first, stood and said, “All in good time. It won’t happen that fast. You need to be prepared for that. The coroner will be here shortly. Properly digging out a body takes a lot of time, and we need to gather forensic evidence as we do.” He spoke in such a ponderous tone, as if this was super important.

  She sniffed. “It wouldn’t take ten minutes to dig up that body, if you really cared to.”

  “It’s because we care that we aren’t doing it that fast.” He glared at her. “If any forensic evidence is in this dirt, we need to find it. We need to know who put this body here and what killed him.”

  She stared at Arnold for a long moment, her jaw opening as realization dawned. “You’re talking days, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Potentially. But likely tonight and tomorrow. So why don’t you go on back inside and let us do our job.”

  She fisted her hands on her hips and stared at the group of men, all shaking their heads at her. She tapped her foot and said, “Okay, but if you find any more begonias, you put them all in one pile. I’ll collect them later and give them some water. Don’t kill them. I’ve got to have one place where I can put them and keep them alive without the police destroying them.”

  She turned and headed inside. What she really needed was food and a cup coffee. Her blood sugar was dropping. That was the only explanation for her being more concerned about the begonias than the dead body. But really, begonias were so much easier to think about than a body in her backyard, you know?

  Not exactly a warm welcome to her new home. And a rather ominous start to her new life.

  Still, she was here, and she had to make the best of it. And while the men worked outside, she searched the tea drawer for coffee beans. Thankfully she also located a simple-enough coffeemaker. Now if only she could find the blasted coffee, figure out the portions, and find something to grind the beans in. Meanwhile, the hostess in her wondered if she was expected to share her coffee with the uniformed officers outside. Because that would put a major drain on her resources and her patience. Was she supposed to feed them too? She wasn’t sure there was food enough for her own dinner.

  She forgot about making coffee as she heard several more vehicles pull up her driveway. A look outside from her living room window confirmed more people had gathered out front. And two more police cars parked behind her Honda, confirming in no way would she get a meal prepared if she couldn’t drive her car to buy some groceries. Damn. She did have some nuts, cheese and crackers, leftovers from her travel snacks. That would be a pitiful dinner, but it looked like that was all she had. At least until the men were done. Or maybe she could order some dinner in. A walk back to town would not happen. She was already tired, and her feet still hurt.

  Nan was her best source of information for takeout.

  With that bright idea, she picked up the phone and called her. “Nan, I can’t get out because of all the police cars here. Is there any place I can get food delivered?”

  “There’s a lovely little Chinese restaurant around the corner,” Nan said. “I used to always get their wonton soup. Win and Len Yee run it. Lovely couple.”

  Nan rattled off the phone number while Doreen quickly wrote it down. “Thanks, Nan.” She hung up, wondered if it would be too expensive for her present situation. But she had to eat. And, so far, today was a complete wash. She had a sinking feeling that tonight would be just as bad. She had to wonder if she would get any sleep as she watched the new arrivals bring out what appeared to be large floodlights and tarps.

  By now a bigger bunch of onlookers stood on the street, watching all the activity too. This so wasn’t the impression she’d wanted to give on her first day in town. She sighed and muttered out loud, “The Mission will never recover from my arrival.”

  Chapter 7

  After too much of her lifetime spent worrying about appearances, this didn’t exactly bode well. She peeked out the living room window to see dozens of strangers standing outside watching the goings-on at her house. She wanted to creep out the back, run around, and join them, blending in so they wouldn’t know who she was.

  She walked back into the kitchen, Mugs very close to her heels. The poor guy is hungry after walking into town and back again. She should have fed him before they left, but she had been too angry to think straight. Yet, his food was easy to take care of. She had both wet and dry food for Mugs.

  She lifted the appropriate bag onto the table, and gathered his food and water dishes. With his bowls now filled, she looked around the kitchen for an out-of-the-way spot where he could eat in peace. There really wasn’t any area that worked with the natural traffic patterns in this room.

  She could put Mugs’s food and water bowls on the deck, but not right now as dozens of people were working around the house. And probably not a good idea anyway given she didn’t know what other animals were out there. She went into the entrance hallway where a bench had been situated so people could sit to put on their shoes, and that vacant space underneath the bench would work, but it would only be a temporary fix—not exactly where she wanted to keep the dog’s food and water bowls when company arrived. She returned to the kitchen and studied the lower cabinets.

  One of the lower cupboard doors hung at a slight angle. She opened it up to find the shelf on the inside was askew too. This house was falling apart. How had Nan stayed here for so long without repairing stuff? Doreen tried to straighten the shelf so it would be usable again, only it broke into two pieces while in her hands. “Great.”

  She tugged the pieces of wood free. It came loose suddenly, sending her flying to her butt. Doreen sat there, glaring at the now-empty space. It was a rather large cupboard, accessible. “Mugs,” she called out.

  Mugs sniffed around, already at her side, his big jowls waggling back and forth in joy. She glanced at her messy suit, Nan’s old gardening shoes on her feet, while considering the fact she sat on the dirty kitchen floor, holding a busted shelf. Tears came to her eyes as she dropped the shelf pieces beside her. She threw her arms around her beloved dog and held him close. But he could only stand that for a few minutes before he wiggled free. She moved her legs out of the way, and instantly Mugs walked into the cupboard.

  The cupboard was at least three feet across. It didn’t make any sense to have it here. The door didn’t fit properly. She assumed a different door had been here at one point in time. Neither did the flooring go all the way to the end of the cupboard. How wrong was that? On the other hand, it was a potential place to put Mugs’s food and water bowls.

  At least with them in there, the bird wasn’t likely to eat it all either. She hoped. She kicked off Nan’s old shoes, got to her feet to retrieve the dog’s food and water bowls,
and put them inside the cupboard. Mugs didn’t seem to mind his accommodations at all. He dug right in.

  “Dinnertime. Dinnertime.”

  She spun to see Thaddeus strutting back and forth on the kitchen table. He stopped beside the open can of wet dog food and pecked away at the little bits of food still stuck to the bottom of the can. As if getting the scent of the dry dog food, his head flew up. He cocked it sideways to look at her first and then at the bag where the dry dog food came from and carefully walked forward, his neck fully extended. When he got to the bag, he stuck his head inside, pulled back, and stuck it in again. This time he came out with a dry kernel. He put it on the table and pecked at it, then said, “Dinnertime. Dinnertime for Thaddeus.”

  She wasn’t sure she would survive all this domesticity, taking care of not only herself and Mugs but now a bird and a cat. Probably like taking care of children. Something else she had no firsthand experience with. Not even secondhand experience. Too bad she and Nan couldn’t share this old house now that Doreen had arrived and also share the pet-related responsibilities. But hopefully she would be working a day job, away from home, so she knew it was better that Nan have twenty-four-hour assistance available at Rosemoor.

  Groaning, her legs not working quite the same as they had before her walk, Doreen trudged over, while Thaddeus pulled out one more kernel from the dog food bag and put it on the table. She said in a firm voice, “That’s Mugs’s dinner.”

  She closed the bag, cleaned up the kitchen, and then studied the room. Surprisingly Thaddeus had been quiet all this time. She needed to get Thaddeus some food, or they would have an all-out war over the dog food soon. But where was the bird food, and what did a parrot like this eat? She’d forgotten to ask Nan about that. Darn. Mugs had already adjusted to a much cheaper dog food than he was accustomed to, but she didn’t need Thaddeus eating it any faster.

  Who had Nan left in charge of him and Goliath for these three weeks before Doreen arrived? Or had Nan walked back and forth each day to feed her animals? Or was that the Marge Nan had mentioned when Doreen first arrived? Nan cared for her animals meticulously and obviously wouldn’t have let them suffer. Thaddeus was an African Grey, Nan had said. It would outlive both Nan and Doreen.