The Diva Digs up the Dirt (30 page)

Her thin lips trembled. She turned those dark eyes on me. “It was Mindy. She ruined everything. And now I’m old and…” She gripped the arm of the rocking chair. “Do
you think Olive would take me in? I could keep house for her. She never liked to do housework.”

“I’m sure she would love that.” It was a lie because I had no idea how Olive felt and most certainly no business representing anything for her, but what else could I say? I felt sorry for Violet in spite of the fact that those frightening bird eyes made her look like she might take a bite out of me. “You obviously meant a lot to Roscoe. Maybe he provided for you in his will.”

Her pathetic suffering expression changed to shock and then hopefulness. “Really?” she said. “You really think so?” She rose from the rocking chair, holding her chin high. “Roscoe always knew how to make an exit.” She floated into the house a different woman.

I hoped I hadn’t misled her.

Shouting in the back garden caught my attention. I hurried down the steps and into the backyard.

Although she had just been in the house, Olive was now outside, working in a frenzy beyond the pond, and Francie was running out to her. Two crazy old women in the sun.
The temperatures were rising, and they’d both been through enough shocks in the past two days to kill an elephant. I sprinted to them, panting like Daisy by the time I reached the shade near the pond.

Olive wore heavy work gloves and mercilessly pulled plants out of the ground. She jammed them into a large trash bag.

Francie stood by, watching.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Olive paused, her face flushed the color of cherry peppers. “I’m pulling up the monkshood that nearly killed my boy. I won’t have it happen to anyone else. When I planted the monkshood, I was so proud to have an unusual specimen in my garden, and look what it’s brought us—nothing but heartache. Who could have done such a cruel thing to my poor Audie? I won’t let them do it again.”

I understood her desire to do away with the poisonous plant, but it was Roscoe who had died, not Audie. Digging up the monkshood wouldn’t bring Roscoe back. Then again, maybe she just had to do
something
. People coped with grief in different ways. “Maybe you could rip out the monkshood in the evening when it’s cooler? Or early tomorrow morning? It’s getting pretty hot out here.”

“No, it has to be done now.” Olive kept at it. “Francie, watch out for the poison ivy on those hostas.”

I looked around to be sure I didn’t accidentally brush up against the poison ivy. The three-leaved plants were growing on trees ten feet away but none grew where we stood. “I don’t see any poison ivy here.”

Olive gestured toward our feet. “It’s scattered through the flower beds. Those hostas one inch from Francie’s feet are loaded with it.”

I bent over for a closer view. Had she lost her mind? There was no poison ivy growing among the hostas. Clearly, Olive was grieving, and I didn’t see the point in arguing with her about something as unimportant as poison ivy.

“Don’t you think Audie has been through enough?”
I asked. “He just lost his father. Do you want Francie to have to tell him that his mother keeled over and died, too?”

Olive swatted at a mosquito that buzzed near her ear. “You’re not very tactful, are you?”

I had to suppress my desire to laugh. Olive wasn’t very good at taking a hint.

“Honey,” she said, “you are going to have poison ivy on your legs if you let those hosta leaves touch your calves.”

“Olive, I’m not the expert gardener you are by a long shot, but I’m pretty sure hosta leaves can’t cause a poison ivy rash.”

“They can if somebody sprinkled them with poison ivy!”

“Sprinkled? What do you mean?”

Olive exchanged a desperate look with Francie. “I
mean
that if a person happened to chop up poison ivy leaves and vines and sprinkled them over plants, that a person dumb enough to rub up against those plants might get a rash from it.”

I quickly scooted away from the hostas. Never in my life would I have imagined such a thing. “Why might someone sprinkle poison ivy on other plants?” It made no sense to me. As far as I knew, animals weren’t sensitive to it. It wouldn’t keep bunnies from eating plants.

“Well now, if a person thought her gardens were going to be brutally dug up and entombed under concrete, she might just try to make the garden assassin regret ever having stepped foot into that garden.”

Francie giggled. “Did it work?”

Olive pointed a finger at me. “I’m trusting you not to give away my secret. They tell me that Princess Mindy has a raging rash on her right arm.”

I gulped air. “That’s what I saw on your plants. I thought someone had been weed whacking, but it was bits of poison ivy!”

Francie and Olive cackled like kooky witches.

“Exactly when did you do this?” I asked. “Not before the party, I hope. There were children playing back here.”

“For heaven’s sake! I would never want
children
to get poison ivy. I snuck back here early in the morning after the party and scattered it. Do you know how many of my friends called to tell me that the new shrew was going to ruin my gardens by pouring concrete over everything?” She gazed around. “It’s all so beautiful and so defenseless. I just helped the garden get even with Mindy. But watch where you step—it will still cause a rash, even all dried up like it is now.”

The garden had already attacked several people, and it might have placed them at the scene of a crime. I needed to talk to Kenner.

“You two go inside before you land in the hospital, too. You wouldn’t want to end up sharing a room with Princess Mindy.”

Olive tied the bag closed and heaved a huge sigh. “I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m at a loss without Roscoe. Heaven knows what Mindy will do to my beautiful gardens now that he’s gone.”

Francie held out an arm to her, and the two old friends slowly walked across the grass and disappeared around the side of the house.

I returned to the den. Mars was seated at Roscoe’s desk talking on the phone, the doorbell was ringing, and I could see at least ten people talking quietly in the living room.

Mars covered the phone and said, “This place is going to be a madhouse soon. Both Mindy and Audie are being released from the hospital.”

“So quickly?”

“Mindy’s ready to come home. If I understand the doctor correctly, Audie is showing symptoms of being his father’s son—he’s demanding to come home against his doctor’s advice.”

“But we think Mindy might have poisoned Audie! Isn’t Kenner going to arrest her?”

“Shh.” Mars finished his phone conversation and turned to me. “What a pain. I can’t have Mindy and Audie in the
same car. I’m picking up Mindy. She’ll be thrilled, I’m sure. Cricket is on her way to pick up Audie.”

“Deftly done. We’ll need food,” I said. “I’ll see if I can get a couple of people to help serve beverages and man a little buffet, then I’ll go to Old Town and pick up some platters.”

I pulled out my phone, but between the ringing of Roscoe’s phone and the doorbell, it wasn’t easy to hear. I cut through the living room, and perched on a rocking chair on the front porch. That didn’t work out any better because people kept stopping to chat.

In spite of the midday sun, I strolled to the shade of the ancient tree towering in Roscoe’s front yard. Happily, I managed to reach Bernie, who promised to deliver platters of assorted cheeses and fruit, a raspberry almond baked brie, a platter of bruschetta topped with pesto and yellow cherry tomatoes, and a large smoked salmon with cream cheese, onions, and bagels. He suggested he include turkey and ham sandwiches for family members who would need something substantial to eat and promised to bring along a couple of tea and coffee urns as well as jugs of sweetened iced tea.

My next call was to Big Daddy’s Bakery. He said he could put together a tier of cupcakes if we were willing to take what he had on hand—classic coconut, raspberry with chocolate ganache, and lemon meringue. It sounded terrific to me. When he suggested bourbon vanilla, tears came to my eyes. Roscoe would have loved those.

In the driveway, Mars hopped into his car, no doubt on his way to pick up Mindy.

I leaned against the trunk of the old tree and buried my face in my hands. I’d kept it together until then, but when Big Daddy mentioned bourbon, the reality of Roscoe’s death finally hit me, and tears cascaded down my cheeks.

I wiped my eyes and watched people mingle on Roscoe’s front porch. Only a few days ago, he’d been bigger than life, enjoying his friends there.

Olive and Francie had joined the little crowd milling about the porch. Olive might not like parties and social functions, but it looked to me that she was very much in her element—back in her old home and surrounded by friends. I wondered what would happen when Mindy arrived.

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself to return to the house. I gazed up at the clear blue sky, hoping Roscoe was watching his friends celebrate his life.

A curtain moved in one of the dormer windows on the third floor, and suddenly I thought Roscoe might not be the only one watching us.

I studied the dormer window where I thought I’d seen movement. Violet was prone to watching from windows. Had she retreated to her room?

Trying to act casual, which I felt I could do, no matter what Natasha claimed about my acting abilities or lack thereof, I walked up the stairs to the porch, into the foyer,
and glided up the stairs to the second floor as if I lived there. I paused for a moment before continuing to the attic floor, where the dormer windows were located. I caught my breath and listened. All the sounds gave the impression of coming from downstairs.

Glad that I had worn rubber-soled shoes that allowed me to sneak around, I started up the stairs, walking slowly. The third-floor landing wasn’t much to speak of. A hallway branched off to the left and the right. By my calculations, I’d seen movement in a window to my right.

I passed an open door to a bathroom. Ahead, the doors on both sides of me were closed. I tiptoed to the first one, bowed my head, and jammed my ear against the door to listen.

A hand swung over my mouth, the door opened, and I was dragged into the room. I fought to open my mouth and bit down hard on the hand.

It fell away immediately. I turned to find I’d bitten none other than Tommy Lee Kenner.

He examined his hand and whispered angrily, “You bit me!”

“You mugged me!” I whispered back.

“I’m lucky you didn’t draw blood!”

“Not that lucky. I haven’t had my rabies shot.”

I whirled around, painfully aware that someone had opened the door for Kenner.

And there, before my eyes stood Roscoe, back from the dead. A squeal almost escaped me, but Kenner clamped a hand over my mouth again. I kicked backward into his shin, and he grunted.

Roscoe grumbled, “You two cut it out. We have work to do.”

I didn’t know whether to smack him or hug him. “How could you do this to your family?” I hissed. I relented and hugged him.

“They’ll get over it. Don’t forget one of ’em is trying to do the rest of us in. I’m doing this
for
my family.”

“We need a favor,” said Kenner, massaging his hand. “To think I was worried about your
dog
biting me.”

Roscoe rolled his eyes. “When Mindy gets here, you go downstairs and let people make a fuss about her for a little bit. Then we want you to make a production out of sending her to rest. Got that?”

“Okay. But I’m not following you. How’s that going to help anything?”

Roscoe looked glum. He whispered, “Call me a stupid old man, but I don’t want to think that my lovely Mindy tried to kill my only child. Marrying me for my money—I get that. She’s younger and attractive. All I have going for me is money. But trying to murder my son? I don’t think she did it.”

Kenner sat down on a ladder-back chair. “Whoever poisoned Audie was very determined. We found the same assortment of chopped flowers in a bottle of salad dressing in the guest house. Bits and pieces were also in the trash can. As close as we can tell, the poisoned dressing was made in the guest house kitchen. We’ve replaced the tainted bottle of salad dressing with plain old salad dressing of the same brand. On the way home from the hospital, Mars is going to fill her in about Audie—with a few special details. He’s going to say they don’t know what poisoned Audie because Cricket took care to bring food from home. If Mindy is the one who tampered with the dressing, she’ll want to dispose of the poisoned Italian dressing in the guest house.”

“But everyone already knows that’s what made Audie sick. She’d be a fool to do that,” I protested.

“She doesn’t know,” said Roscoe.

“How is that possible?”

“She was already in the hospital when Audie was poisoned,” said Kenner. “She knows he was sick, but she doesn’t have any of the details. She didn’t hear you ask what he ate or see you wrap up the trash. She hasn’t heard your theory about her chopping up flowers randomly.”