Flowers, Food, and Felonies at the New Year's Jubilee: A Flower Shop Mystery Novella (The Flower Shop Mystery Series Book 4) Read online

  That word, fiancé—so strange to have someone place a ring on your finger and then all of a sudden you have a new classification. Kind of like a new job title, but the interview process was a lot more fun.

  I’d slid my hands up Alex’s chest and over his shoulders when he put his arms around me. At the thought of the beautiful engagement ring he’d given, I reached over to touch it, to prove that it wasn’t a surreal dream. I froze. It wasn’t there. My finger was as naked as Alex wished the both of us were right then.

  “What’s up?” He pulled back and looked at me.

  “I…” I had no idea where that ring was. “My ring—is not—gone…” I cringed.

  “Quincy,” Alex smiled and closed his eyes. I could tell he was trying to keep his cool. “Tell me you’re talking about your mood ring.”

  I chewed on my lip and shook my head. “I’m sure I just left it on my night stand.” I wasn’t sure at all. “You know—Christmas morning—Santa—I just left the house in a hurry.”

  His right eyebrow shot up.

  “No, no, no, not the eyebrow thing,” I said.

  “Huh?”

  “You did the thing, where you lift your eyebrow,” I said. “It usually means—well in this case it probably means you’re not too happy with me.”

  “Listen, babe,” he said tenderly, “I’m so happy with you. And you don’t have to wear the ring. You’re not required to, it was a gift. I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to do anything for me. It’s just—I’m pretty sure it was real—they charged me like it was. You haven’t—you know—lost it, have you?”

  “Of course not! Really, in the rush to get here, so I could see your handsome, smiling face, I didn’t take the time to put it on. I’m really sorry. I love that ring, almost as much as I love you. I wear it all the time. Except when I take it off at work, so that I don’t lose it. Which I haven’t.”

  He kissed my forehead. “I love you, Q. As far as I’m concerned, you never have to wear it again. My mother might have a different opinion, though. You’re on your own with her.”

  We smelled the delicious aromas curling up from the kitchen as we walked downstairs. Everyone sat around my parents’ large oval dining table, had far too much to eat, talked about our different family traditions, and generally had a good time. I kept my hand under the table and only dished up things that didn’t require a knife.

  Once the breakfast was finished, Alex volunteered to clean up and wouldn't let anyone help. My father put his meaty hands together in a startling, thunderous clap. "Now, for the good stuff. Would you all follow me into the living room at the foot of the beautiful Christmas tree, so excellently trimmed by my wife? It's time to open presents!" He sounded like a ten year old, up at the crack of dawn on Christmas Day. We followed him in to the living room. There were gifts for everyone, including Jerome.

  After the dust and curling ribbon had settled, we sat and talked while dad played his new old banjo—a gift from my mother. A light snow dusted the shoveled sidewalks, but not enough to accumulate and make it dangerous. Just enough to make a picture perfect Christmas card photo. It was also just enough to make us hopeful the freezing streak in the weather had snapped. The snow stopped after a few minutes. Still cold.

  Jerome lay in the middle of the floor, chewing on his new rubber dog toys. He could’ve done so for hours if left alone.

  “Looks like Jerome loves his Christmas present, Angus,” Alex said.

  Jack Cooper sat down on the couch next to his wife. “Such a unique name for a dog.”

  “I think it’s a stupid name for a dog,” Eleanor said in a not so quiet whisper.

  “Well, like it or not, that’s what he answers to,” I said. “Don’t you Jerome?”

  Jerome let out a bark, which made everyone laugh. I hadn’t trained him that well, it was just coincidence. But then, he jerked his head up, sniffed the air and paused. Then he barked in a sharp warning tone. I’d never heard him do that particular bark before. It definitely wasn’t playful.

  "Is someone at the door?" Mom asked.

  "He doesn't usually bark when someone knocks," I said.

  "I didn't hear anyone knock," Jack said.

  My father went to the door. As he opened it, a woosh of cold air came into the living room. "Well isn't this nice?" he said as he stooped to pick something up. "Seems you're not the only one with a secret Santa, Quincy. We have our own."

  Dad held a fresh pine arrangement with red carnations, white cushion chrysanthemums, and festive gold and cream colored ribbon. A large greeting card sized envelope was tucked in.

  "Did this come from your shop?" Dad asked.

  I shook my head. It looked like it had been purchased at a grocery store. "It's not mine. It sure was thoughtful of someone, though. They would’ve had to buy it yesterday. All the stores are closed today."

  Dad took it over to my mother. "It's addressed to you, Annette."

  “Oh my goodness, how nice," mom said. She smiled as she opened the envelope and slipped out the card. Her smile slowly deteriorated as she read.

  "Who's it from, Mom?" Sandy asked. "Is something wrong?"

  My mother did something so uncharacteristic then, that it was unsettling. She crumpled the envelope in her fist and threw it down.

  "Mom, what does it say?" I asked.

  My mother wasn’t able to read the card. She passed it over to my sister.

  "’Quit while you're ahead. We all know who the champion will be. I can feel the smooth satin fabric of that blue ribbon against my fingers already. Go ahead and enter if you dare,’" Sandy read.

  There was a collective gasp.

  "What? Who sent it?" My dad said, obviously upset.

  "Who would say something so terrible? Is this about the cooking competition?" Eleanor asked.

  "I suppose so," Mom said.

  "Alex," his mother said, "you should do something about this. It’s awful."

  “Oh no, Eleanor. Thank you so much, but I'm sure it's just intended as a joke. Not funny at all, but harmless. It's so thoughtful of you to worry.” My mother, ever the polite hostess.

  My dad stood up. "I'm looking forward to someone winning this competition and showing whoever this loud mouth is, they don't know what they're talking about."

  The mood in the house stayed down after the floral delivery, and despite my mother's attempts to brush it off, I knew she was upset. My sister kept shooting worried glances my way as she spoke with mom on the couch. My dad made jokes and told a funny anecdote or two, but the Christmas spirit had vacated the building.

  Eventually everyone said their goodbyes and I decided to take Jerome home. Alex said he would stop over after he dropped his parents at his place and got ready for work. He worked as an officer of the Utah State Police.

  Recently, he’d been able to work at a desk job some of the time. Although he won’t admit it, I think he took the job for my sake. It would eventually mean less undercover work, where he could be gone for weeks at a time. He also worked shifts as a highway patrolman. I hated that he had to work a patrol shift on the night of a holiday. It made me sick with worry that some reveler would drink too much and get behind the wheel. But, Alex loved his job and wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  ***

  At home, I changed into sweatpants and pulled on a pair of new tube socks—a gift from my thoughtful fiancé. Alex’s mother had questioned her son’s judgment when I opened the gift the night before, but she just didn’t understand.

  Alex knocked on my back door before letting himself in. I pulled up my pant leg to give him a better view.

  "You like them?" he said.

  "The best present ever.” I caught a glance of my naked finger as I reached my arms up around his neck. "I mean, second only to my engagement ring, which is on my nightstand right now." I was sure it was. Not really. It had to be there, though. I was almost positively sure.

  "Oh yeah, I guess I did give you that. You still planning on marrying me?"

&nbs
p; "I'm still thinking about it." I shrugged nonchalantly.

  "Ouch." He pulled me to him and planted a steamy kiss. “Is that your final answer?”

  I looked pensively toward the ceiling. “Still not sure.”

  He backed me against the wall and I grabbed the front of his shirt. He pressed his mouth against mine again.

  “Okay, I’m sure,” I said when I came up for air.

  "I've missed you," he said.

  I laughed. "We saw each other an hour ago. For us, that's like being joined at the hip."

  "I still miss you. I miss this."

  Bam, bam, bam, sounded on the back door only feet away from us. We both jumped, startled by the pounding.

  "Ho, ho, ho," K.C.'s voice blasted out from behind the door.

  Alex bowed his head and shook it slowly. This wasn't the first time we'd been interrupted this very way in the kitchen, by the very same person. He cringed before opening the door. "Hello, K.C., Fred. How's your Christmas been?"

  "Oh, it's been swell," K.C. said as she swept by both of us, arms full of packages and gift bags. "Where's our little pumpkin?" she said in baby talk.

  "I'm right here," Alex said with a wink.

  K.C. wore her Santa cap, and her cat-eye glasses hung from a chain around her neck. Her Christmas sweater with genuine, tiny bulb-lights, twinkled in multi-color splendor. Fred wore a Santa cap too and followed behind carrying packages of his own.

  "What's all this?" I asked.

  "It's Christmas don't you know?" K.C. said.

  I looked at Fred inquisitively and he just shrugged.

  K.C. plopped all the packages down in the living room, then picked up Jerome, who had followed close at her heels as soon as she walked in.

  I did happen to have a little present for her and for Fred, but nothing close to the overkill she’d brought in. But, that was what we loved about K.C. Over the top could’ve been printed on her business cards.

  The majority of the gifts were for Jerome. A new, bigger bed, a gate to keep him from greeting a customer at the front door in case they weren't partial to dogs, although we hadn't run into that person yet. Lots of toys, a new collar, a seatbelt, and all manner of treats and chew toys.

  "K.C.," I said, "are you sure you didn't break the bank with all this?"

  "Now, don't you worry about it, Boss. It's a pleasure. And who else am I going to spend it on?"

  "How about your grandkids or your children, or Fred here?" I said.

  Fred smiled and gently waved his hand in a humble gesture. "Don't worry about me," he said.

  "Boss, I am so excited about the Jubilee. This is gonna be my year, I can feel it. My Jell-O salad is going to guarantee my claim to victory and that blue ribbon. Those other ladies and or gentlemen better just give up now because I've got this one in the bag."

  "She sounds a lot like the secret Santa from this morning," Alex said.

  "What?" K.C. shouted. "Are you telling me that boy is at it again? What did he leave this time, a new car?"

  I’d found Jerome on my front porch one morning. He’d been a misguided secret Santa gift for my sister Allie.

  "I wish," I said. We told her all about the flower arrangement that showed up on my parents' door step earlier that day.

  "What nerve! On Christmas Day, no less. They should be arrested. Alex, why didn't you arrest them?"

  “Unfortunately we can’t arrest people just for being jerks,” he said.

  K.C. stood and placed her hands on her hips. "Well, all I have to say is this thing is on. It is on like Donkey Kong."

  Fred glanced between Alex and me, confused.

  "Where’d she learn that?" Alex muttered.

  “Who knows,” I said.

  “You know, Boss, I think we should find out who left that nasty door prize on your parents’ doorstep.”

  “No!” Fred and Alex shouted simultaneously.

  “For Pete’s sake, why not? We don’t want any ne’er do wells at the Jubilee. Besides, my creepy-crawly senses are telling me this was more malicious than we suspect. I don’t want any of that criminal element at my victory party.”

  “But sweetheart, then you wouldn’t be able to attend,” Fred quipped.

  “Hardy har, har, Freddie my darling.” She looked at me. "He’s just getting back at me after I told him about the time I was arrested for public indecency.”

  “That was months ago,” I said, thinking about the time we took a ride in her convertible in nothing but our unmentionables. “I could see where you might still be unhappy about that, Fred.”

  “Oh I’m not upset about anything,” he replied. “I was just teasing my dear wife. But I think K.C. is referring to another time. Aren’t you, my sweet?”

  “Yes, I’m referring to the time my late husband and I belonged to a nudist colony.”

  “Of course she did,” I said under my breath. Alex’s shoulders bounced as he kept his laugh to himself.

  “I guess we went out of bounds, or so said the local Sheriff. But I think they just had a slow day down at the lock up.”

  “Did they put you in the car and everything?” I asked.

  “They sure did,” she said.

  “Please tell me they let you get dressed first,” Alex said.

  “No—they—did—not. It was not something I could easily forget.”

  “Probably not the arresting officer, either,” Alex said.

  After Fred and K.C. said their goodbyes, Alex and I said ours. His shift would begin soon. My heart tugged as I looked out my kitchen window and watched him get into his car.

  I heard a little squeak as a paw gently nudged my pant leg. I looked down and smiled at Jerome. “What’s up little one? You miss him too, huh?”

  He looked up at me then took a few steps, looking back to make sure I followed him. He led me to the door. “You need to go out?” I held the door open so he could go to his “potty place.” He just stood there and looked at me while the freezing air blasted into the house. I shut the door and he led me to the living room where we’d opened presents. I picked up one of the many paraphernalia Auntie K.C. had brought. “How’s about we go for a little walk and try out your new reindeer leash?” He wagged his tail and hopped up and down. Apparently we’d communicated.

  I went to my bedroom to change clothes. My ring. See, I mentally patted myself on the back, I remembered it. There was nothing wrong. I wasn’t subconsciously leaving the ring lying around to avoid the feeling of symbolic branding or of being owned, that came with wearing it. I didn’t even know who’d put that psychobabble in my head in the first place. Well, it was probably me, but I’d just conjured those thoughts in the middle of the night. I’d just been in a hurry that morning, that’s all, I assured myself.

  I walked over to the nightstand, relieved I had my brain turned back on. Amazing what a little down time will do for the old memory bank. Small problem, though. The ring wasn’t there. A burning began deep in my stomach. I looked all over, on the floors, in the drawers. Nothing.

  I kept a flashlight in the nightstand. I got on all fours and searched the surface of the wooden floor, then did the same under the braided rug and on top of it. The ring was not there. Jerome ducked under my arm and whined. He must’ve needed to go to the bathroom.

  Breathe, I reminded myself. I’d take Jerome on a walk. The cold air would help me calm down. I could mentally retrace my steps to the night before, when I knew I had it on. I bundled up and latched the leash onto Jerome, who practically had a meltdown before I could get him outside.

  The light dusting of snow that had fallen earlier was just that, a mere dusting. Jerome and I had no trouble navigating the sidewalks around the neighborhood. The air felt thick and cold. I pulled on the hood of my parka and tugged the drawstrings to fit it more snugly around my face. Jerome seemed perfectly content with his thick fur suited for this type of weather.

  We walked past neighbors’ houses, with Christmas trees in nearly every front window. As we came to the corner where we
usually went straight and crossed the road, Jerome stuck his nose in the air as if catching a scent. He pulled very uncharacteristically on his leash, insisting we turn left. He led us toward Henrietta Bowser’s house, a red brick Colonial style home with a large front porch. Jerome continued on as if he wanted to march right up to her front door. “No, buddy, leave these poor people alone,” I said. I didn’t want anyone to think that I would let my dog up on to their lawn to leave a deposit, so to speak.

  Again, very uncharacteristically, Jerome tugged against the leash, almost choking himself. He crossed the lawn, up the hill toward the porch. The front door came into view at the crest of her snow covered lawn. “Oh my gosh,” I said. Henrietta sat on the cement, holding her ankle.

  I hurried up to her, Jerome was already at her side.

  “Careful, Quincy,” she said. “This porch is covered with ice.”

  I approached with caution, glad she’d warned me. The entire porch was covered with an even, glistening, sheet.

  “Can I take a look?” I asked. I’d taken a first aid course earlier in the year and hoped I could be helpful.

  “Please do. It’s my ankle. Oh, I hope it’s not broken. On Christmas day, of all days. I don’t want to go to the emergency room.”

  I pushed down her sock and took a look. There was swelling, but her skin seemed to be a normal color and nothing was sticking out at an odd angle. “I’m going to squeeze your toes through your slipper. Can you feel that?”

  She nodded, “Yes, I can feel it. It doesn’t hurt there.”

  “Can you move your toes?”

  Yes, she could.

  “I hate to ask, but can you move your ankle at all?”

  “Oooh,” her eyes squinted and her mouth pursed in response to the obvious pain, but she moved her foot up and down. “It hurts, but not as bad as I thought it would. Maybe I can get up.”

  I kneeled next to her and held her elbow as a support. Both of us started to slide as soon as she put any weight against me. “I can’t stay steady enough to pull you up, Hen. Do you think you could crawl into the house?”