Tag Archives: december2020

D. A. Ratliff: A Special Ride

A second story from the image prompt for Writers Unite! Write the Story’s December 2020 project. I hope you enjoy it!

A Special Ride

D. A. Ratliff

It was a fluke. Jake Riley was supposed to be at this friend Will’s house for the afternoon, but Will’s mom was baking Christmas cookies and said she needed their help. A phone call from the hospital sent his mom, a Cardiac Cath tech, to work for an emergency, so Will went to his grandparents, and Jake walked home.

Icy snow was spitting in the air, and he picked up his pace, hoping his mom would take pity on him and make cocoa. He was a few houses away when he saw a delivery van from the local sporting goods store parked in front of his house. The driver raised the truck’s roll-up door as his mom walked out of the garage to join him. He ducked behind a tree, hoping his mom wouldn’t look around.

Jake’s heart thumped in his chest as he saw a bicycle in a rack on the truck—not just any bike. It was the black mountain bike he had wanted for months. The driver took the bike out and rolled it into the garage. His mom signed a receipt and closed the garage door. He waited until the truck left and then continued home.

He dropped his school bag on the entry floor. “Mom, I’m home.”

His mother appeared at the kitchen door. She appeared flustered. “What are you doing here? It’s only six. I thought you were at Will’s making cookies?” She glanced toward the door to the garage.

“She was on call and had to go to work. She dropped Will off at his grandparents, and I walked home. We never got any cookies baked.”

“Oh… well, so sorry, no cookies, honey. Maybe we can make some tonight or tomorrow. Take your bag upstairs. I know you left it in the entry hall. Your dad will be home in a bit, and we’ll order our usual Friday night pizza since you’re here.”

Jake trudged upstairs, took a quick shower, and managed to play a bit of a video game. When he heard the garage door come up, he knew his dad was home. He closed his laptop and headed downstairs.

He stopped short of the kitchen door when he heard his father. “He came home early? Did you get it hidden?”

“No. I came in to check the washer, and then go back to put it in the storage room, but I didn’t want to go into the garage and have him come looking for me. So, I thought better to wait until one of us can keep him out.”

“Yeah, smart move, Leigh. Glad we decided to get him the bike this year.” He paused. “I remember when I was fourteen, I got a new bike for Christmas. My dad and I took a ride together after breakfast. He died the following winter, and we never got to ride again.”

“Jeff, we should’ve gotten you a new bike too. Jake would love it if you rode with him.”

“I don’t need a new bike. I guess I should drag my old bike out of the shed, but….” He took a deep breath. “Never rode it again after my dad died. Just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.” He smiled and kissed Leigh. “Gonna change now… order that pizza, I’m starving.”

Jake raced up the stairs and into his room before his dad had a chance to leave the kitchen. His heart raced as he thought about his dad’s words. He had seen that old bike in the shed—chain rusty, seat cracked, and tires flat. He had no idea his dad hadn’t ridden his bike since his grandfather died. He sat down on his bed, angry that he rarely thought of his biological grandfather. His grandmother had remarried, and Pops was the grandfather he knew. Pops had adopted his father when he was sixteen, and he changed his name to Jeffery Dawson Riley to keep his real dad’s name too.

Thinking back, he always thought his dad didn’t have time to ride bikes with him. He was just a kid, and he had Will to ride with, so he’d never considered his dad might want to ride with him. Will’s dad was a doctor and rarely home, so it worked out for both of them.

He went back to playing a video game when his mom texted him. Pizza will be here in a bit. Come on down. He found his mom in the kitchen.

“Hi, honey. Can you take the plates and napkins into the den? We’re going to eat in there and watch a movie.”

“Sure, Mom. Where’s Dad?”

“Uh…. He’s in the garage, putting away the paper towels and toilet paper I bought this morning.” She reached for her purse, which was sitting on the small desk in the kitchen. “Here is five dollars for the tip. After you take the plates in, wait for the pizza. Should be here any moment.”

The pizza arrived as Jake heard his dad enter the kitchen. His mom told him to take the pizza to the den, and his father followed with drinks. They settled on a new action thriller movie on a streaming site while they ate.

Jake’s thoughts kept drifting to the mountain bike in the garage. He was excited. He wanted to join a bike club at school, and the bike was perfect. But his dad’s words echoed in his head. “Never rode it again after my dad died. Just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it.” He wished he could ride with his dad.

Late that night, as he drifted to sleep, what he needed to do came to him. Sleepily, he decided that tomorrow, he would put his plan into motion.

~~~

Will followed Jake into the kitchen. “What was so important that I had to get over here now?”

“You have to help me get Dad’s old bike out of the shed.”

“Why?”

“Because he got it for Christmas when he was fourteen, and he only got to ride it once with his dad. Then his dad died, and he never rode it again. I want to fix the bike up so he can ride with me.”

“Why don’t you get him a new one?”

“I can’t afford a new one. Not even sure I had enough money to get this one fixed. But I wanna try. Come with me and help me get it out while Mom and Dad are gone shopping.”

They left footprints in the dusting of snow on the ground as they walked to the metal storage building sitting next to the rear fence. Jake had taken the key from the keyboard in the laundry room, and after fiddling with the lock for a bit, he got the door open.

“Darn it, dark in here. Will, turn on your phone light. I think the bike is in that back corner.”

The light showed Jake that he was right, but there was a lawnmower, snow blower, and a lot of garden equipment in front of it. “Gotta move this stuff. Help me. We need to do this quickly.”

After a few cuss words that their moms would yell at them for and a skinned knuckle or two, the boys managed to get the bike out and everything put back. Will had leaned the bike against the shed while Jake relocked the door.

“Man, Jake, this bike is a mess. It’s rusty, paint peeled, tires cracked.”

“Yeah, I know, but I want to get it to the bike shop and see if Mr. Mason can fix it.”

“It’s a week until Christmas! He can’t fix this in a week.”

“Gonna try. Now, how do we get it downtown?”

“Call Uber?”

“No… how about Ray? He’s home from college, isn’t he? You think he would take us? Can you ask, please?”

“Sure.”

Will made the call and twenty minutes later, his brother Ray drove up in a red pickup. He helped them load the bike, and they headed to town. On the way, Jake texted his parents they were going to get burgers with Ray.

The City Bicycle Shop sat on a tree-lined street on the outskirts of town. Jake and Ray got the bike out of the back and went inside. A small brass bell attached to the door tinkled, bringing the owner out from the back room.

“Hey, boys, what can I do for you?”

“Mr. Mason. This is my dad’s old bike, and I want to get it repaired before Christmas. Can you do it?”

Mason didn’t say anything as he walked around the bike. Jake’s heart was beating out of his chest. He had $247 in his savings account, and he was scared that he wouldn’t have enough money. He managed to eke out, “How much will this cost?”

The shop owner smiled. “You getting this fixed up for yourself?”

“No, sir. It was my dad’s. He got it for Christmas when he was fourteen like I am now. But his dad died, and he only got to ride with him once. I accidentally found out that I got a new bike for Christmas.” Jake took a breath. ”I want to get his bike fixed so he can ride with me.”

“You got a budget you can spend?

“I have 247 dollars.”

A slight smile crossed Mason’s face. “I can probably do it for under 200. Want the original color?”

“Yes, sir. Can you have it done by Christmas Eve?”

“Gonna be tight, but I’ll try. Let’s get some info before you leave.”

~~~

Christmas was in two days, and he was supposed to pick up the bike on Christmas Eve. Ray was going to drive him, but he needed to get the money from his savings account, which meant going to the bank. Since he was on vacation from school, he didn’t have to worry about skipping, but getting downtown was another. He told his mom he was going to Will’s and then walked seven blocks to the main road and waited for a city bus to take him to a branch bank.

He walked into the lobby, his stomach churning. He had never been to the bank by himself, but he was here for a reason. He stepped up the teller window and presented his bank book and his school ID. As grown-up as he could, he announced his intentions. “I would like to withdraw the money from this savings account.”

The teller looked up the account. She shook her head, a woeful smile on her face. “I am so sorry, but your father and mother are on the account, and it requires one of their signatures to withdraw these funds. I am sorry.” She pushed the bank book and ID back to him. “Perhaps one of them could come with you.”

Jake’s heart was in his throat. He only nodded, grabbed the items, and fled the bank. Once outside, he sat on the curb, fear overwhelming him. He had to figure out how to pay for the bike. But how…. He was staring into the distance, racking his brain for what to do. He didn’t hear the soft footballs of someone approaching.

“Jake?”

He looked up to see Pops standing over him. “Pops, I uh…“ He scrambled to his feet. “Hi.”

“I don’t see your parents’ cars. Are you here alone?”

Jake could only nod, and his grandfather pressed him. “What are you doing here?”

Tears welled in Jake’s eyes, and the story spilled out. His grandfather listened without comment until Jake finished.

“So, the bike is now at the shop, and you are going to need to pay for it?”

“Yeah, I—I just wanted to do something for him so he could ride with me.” Finally, the tears spilled from his eyes, and Pops pulled him into a hug.

“Let’s go see what we can do. I’m your grandfather. Maybe I can be the other signature.”

Inside the bank, Pops told him to sit in one of the chairs while he talked to the manager. To Jake, the wait felt like an eternity as fear overwhelmed him. The sense of dread faded a bit as Pops motioned him to join him at the same teller window. Pops was smiling.

“I told the bank manager the money was for you to buy a present for your father, and it was a secret, so he’s going to let me sign with you.”

Five minutes later, they walked out of the bank with the money Jake needed and his nerves intact.

“Let me take you home. But before we do, do you have a present for your mom?”

“I got her a scarf and hat. Haven’t done any more shopping, and I don’t have the spare money.”

“Get in the car. I’ll spot you the money for another gift for your mom.”

~~~

Jake was pacing the floor. Mr. Mason told him that he would have the bike ready at four-thirty and be there on time as he closed the store for Christmas Eve. He told his Mom that Will’s mom wanted him to stop by and get his present and some cookies, and Ray and Will were going to come to get him. Fact was the gifts were already in Ray’s truck.

It was just after four when Ray pulled up. Jake called out. “Ray’s here, back soon,” and rushed out the door. He nearly slipped on the side as an icy rain was falling. He jumped in the cab.

“Wow, thought you weren’t coming?”

“Sorry, dude. This weather is getting worse. Let’s get there so we can get back.”

A sinking feeling came over Jake, scared they had waited too late. The icy rain turned into sleet, and the road was becoming slicker by the minute. As they passed by the park where there was little traffic, the truck began to slide. Ray tried to keep the truck under control but hit an icy spot. It careened off the curb and over the embankment into a thicket of bushes, landing on its side.

~~~

Pops and Jeff’s mother, Emily, arrived, followed shortly by Leigh’s parents, Gordon and Cheryl. They were placing gifts under the tree when Jeff’s phone rang. His shocked expression told all something was wrong.

“That was the police. Ray’s truck skidded on the ice near the park and landed on its side. Officer said the kids are fine but on the way to the hospital.”

Leigh began to cry, and Jeff hugged her. “They’re fine, a few scrapes and bruises, but fine. Just taking them to the hospital to get checked out. We need to go get him.”

Pops spoke. “We’ll finish dinner and get the rest of the presents under the tree. You go get our boy.”

The grandmothers busied themselves with finishing dinner while the granddads got all the presents under the tree. They had finished when the doorbell rang. Pops opened the door and smiled broadly. “I am happy to see you.”

An hour and a half later, Jake and his parents returned. He was sporting a bruised shoulder and cheek and a small cut above his eye. His grandmothers fussed over him until he blushed bright pink and pushed them away.

“Stop, I’m okay. It wasn’t Ray’s fault. The roads were getting icy.”

His mother nodded. “We know it wasn’t his fault, but we don’t know why you were out near the park?”

Jake glanced toward Pops. “Ray was going to pick up something.”

She hugged him. “Just glad you are okay. Hungry?” He nodded. She kissed him gingerly on the forehead. “I’m so glad you are okay.”

Jake held back as the family headed to the dining room to talk to his grandfather. “Pops, we didn’t get to the shop in time.”

Pops put a finger to his mouth. “I have it on good authority that Santa took care of it.”

“What?”

“Mr. Mason had to go home, but he wanted you to have the bike, so he dropped it off here. I hid it in the bedroom we’re sleeping in.”

“Pops!” Jake threw his arms around his grandfather. “Thanks.”

~~~

Christmas morning was a surprise for Jake. The bicycle he expected was not under the tree, nor was his dad’s. He woke up and remembered he hadn’t paid for the repairs, so he had tucked the money from the bank into his robe pocket. He suspected Pops had paid Mr. Mason.

They opened presents, and Jake was pleased but confused. When there were no more presents, we looked toward Pops, who only winked at him. Then his mother approached and handed the savings bank book to him, which he had returned to the drawer without marking the withdrawal. He swallowed hard. He was in trouble.

“Jake, we know that you were saving money to get a new bike, but we had other ideas. We want this savings account to go toward a car for you in a couple of years. Your dad and I and your grandparents have contributed to the account. You now have a thousand dollars in the account, and all of us, plus what money you earn, will keep depositing to the account so that we have a down payment for a car for your senior year in high school.”

He couldn’t breathe. “Mom, no—no, I can’t…”

Pops interrupted, “Jeff, Leigh, don’t you have something to show Jake?”

“I believe we do.” Jeff left the living room and returned with the shiny, black mountain bike adorned with a red ribbon. “Merry Christmas, son.”

Jake hugged his parents and sat on the bike. “Wow, I love this. Thanks.” He looked for Pops, who had left the room.

“Dad, Mom, I have a confession to make. I overheard you talking about the bike last week and Dad, about how you got a bike for Christmas when you were fourteen but only rode with your dad once. So…” His voice broke. “I decided to do something… I took your bike from the shed and had it fixed.”

Pops rolled Jeff’s bike into the room to surprised gasps. Jake was shaking, so afraid his dad would be angry. He watched as his dad walked to the bike and ran his hand along the handlebars. “It looks like it did when I first got it.” Tears streamed down his face, and Jake ran to his dad, who hugged him tightly. Jeff looked over his son’s head toward his stepfather. “Pops, you have been my father longer than I had my real father. You have given me nothing but love and care over the years, and that means so much. Please forgive me for this moment when I can bring my father’s memory to my son.”

“Jeff, you are my son, but this is the right thing to do, and know that this was Jake’s doing.”

Jeff hugged his son again. “Might be a bit icy this morning, but it’s going to warm up this afternoon. Then we go for a ride.”

~~~

After breakfast, Jake found Pops. “The money, that day at the bank…” He pulled the money from his robe pocket. “This was from you and not my account, wasn’t it?”

“They weren’t going to let me help you, so I did the next best thing.”

“You paid Mr. Mason last night.”

Pops laughed. “No. When he found out you didn’t get there because you were in a wreck, he told me he never intended to charge you. He was a boy who rode bikes with his dad, and you brought back those memories for him.”

Jake handed Pops the money. “Hold this for next Christmas. Who knows what we might need to buy?”

~~~

The sun was out around two p.m., and father and son rolled their bikes to the sidewalk.

“Ready, Jake?”

“I sure am, Dad.”

And off they rode.

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My English Rose

From the image prompt for Writers Unite! Write the Story’s December 2020 project. I hope you enjoy it!

Author’s Note:  I love murder mysteries of any kind, detective or cozy. While I write detective novels, I love to dabble in cozy mysteries, and I offer this story as an homage to the talented cozy authors who entertain us. 

My English Rose

D. A. Ratliff

Vicar Addison Wakefield was not a fan of modern technology. One of the reasons he chose to relocate to Hampton Green was its quiet lifestyle and charm. However, technology caught up with the village, two hours by train from London, and it didn’t make him happy, especially when he was on his bicycle for an early morning ride.

The ding of a text message interrupted his daydreaming as he pedaled down Serpents Lane toward the weir on the river near town. He loved to sit on a flat rock on the bank, listen to the water cascading over the dam, drink his thermos of tea, and enjoy the early mid-summer morning. The only quiet time he had.

The message from his wife, Muriel, read: Mrs. Marcum called. She isn’t feeling well and would like for you to stop in when you can.

He sighed, texted Muriel he was on his way, and turned the bicycle around, heading toward town. As he sped toward the village, he considered what he knew about Edith Marcum. She was the widow of greengrocer Jasper Marcum and had taught botany at the local college. She owned the local florist and lived two blocks from the village square in Hollyhock House. The fragrance wafting from Edith’s garden reached him while he was several meters away.

Addison leaned his bike next to the gate and walked along the narrow cobblestone path, admiring the hollyhocks, pinks, delphiniums, phlox, and the other flowers filling the front garden. The hint of honeysuckle permeated the air. He rapped the door knocker on the heavy wooden door and heard a feeble voice respond to come in.

The parlor drapes remained closed to block out the early morning sun. Edith was lying on the couch, a knitted throw across her lap. Addison pulled an ottoman close to the couch and sat.

“My dear Edith, I am sorry that you feel ill. Have you spoken to Doctor Andrews?”

“No, he would just tell me to rest.” She paused. “I am glad you came, Vicar. I have to tell you that I feel my time on Earth is nearly over.”

“Now, now, Edith. That’s no way to talk.”

“Just a premonition, but I am rarely wrong.” She closed her eyes as a grimace crossed her face. She reached out for the vicar’s hand. “I am having serious headaches… dizzy… sick to my stomach. It is only getting worse. I have been trying to write my paper to send to the horticultural society about the new rose I created, but I was simply too sick.” She gestured toward her dining table covered with notebooks, papers, and a shiny purple laptop. “I need to finish that before….” She was too weak to continue.

“I insist on calling the doctor.” She protested, but he pulled out his mobile. “No argument.”

The doctor arrived within fifteen minutes. Addison waited outside while Andrews examined her. When the doctor exited the house, his expression revealed concern.

“Not certain what is wrong, Vicar, but I am glad you called me. She said she had been feeling poorly for about a week, and it is getting progressively worse.” He patted his black leather bag. “I drew some blood and gave her some medication for the headache and nausea.”

“Should someone stay with her, William?”

“Yes. She had me call her friend, Imogen Smyth, who’s coming over now.”

The vicar nodded. “Ah—good. She owns the florist along with Edith.” He stepped toward the door. “I should say goodbye.”

“No, she was getting drowsy as I left. Let her sleep. I’ll check on her this afternoon.”

The doctor was not the only one to check on Edith. Later that afternoon, the Vicar called, and Imogen said she was resting comfortably.

The call that she was not, came at three a.m. the following morning.

~~~

A misty rain fell as the Vicar raced on his bike from the vicarage toward Edith’s house. He pulled the slicker hood over his head and pumped faster, crossing the mile’s distance in record time. As he arrived, in addition to the doctor’s SUV, he saw two yellow and blue checkered police cars and a lone ambulance, blue lights illuminating the night. The ambulance crew sat inside, out of the rain. A sinking feeling in his chest told him the outcome could not be good.

Nodding to a policeman standing inside the doorway, Addison entered. Edith remained on the couch, but her pale face and blue lips confirmed his fears. Edith Marcum was dead.

Dr. Andrews turned, gesturing toward Imogen, sitting at the dining room table. “Imogen said she took a turn for the worst about two-fifteen a.m. and called me. I called the ambulance on the way, but by the time they got here, she was gone.”

“Doctor.” A voice from the doorway caused the men to turn around to find Detective Chief Inspector Gordon Winston entering.

He shook the doctor’s hand, then the vicar’s. “Tell me what happened here.”

The Vicar and doctor recounted the events since the Vicar first arrived. The detective had them step into the dining room while he spoke to the ME and then to Imogen.

Addison pulled out a dining chair and sat wearily. “Any idea what happened to Edith?”

“Could be a lot of things. A virus, but she didn’t have a fever—not sure. Blood work I sent off yesterday will be back in forty-eight hours, and the ME will likely do an autopsy, so we should know in a few days.”

An hour passed before DCI Winston released them. The vicar asked to say a prayer before the ME removed the body, then watched in silence as Edith Marcum left her garden for the last time.

~~~

Edith Marcum’s son, Liam, arrived later in the afternoon and called on the vicar. Muriel escorted him to the vicar’s office, then excused herself to make tea.

“Liam, it has been a long time.” Addison crossed the room to meet him. “My deepest condolences on your mother’s passing.”

“Thank you. It’s been quite a shock.”

“Please sit.” Addison motioned to a chair and returned to sit behind his desk. “How are your wife and daughter?”

“Good, but as confused as I am. My mother was a good woman, a healthy woman. We did not expect her to be gone so soon.”

“Have you spoken to DCI Winston?” 

“Yes. He feels that her death is from natural causes.” Liam stared out the window into Muriel’s garden.

“I see mother’s roses in your garden. That yellow rose with the orange edges was the one she created for my father. He was able to see it bloom before he died.”

“Your father was a good man, as well.”

“Yes.” Liam sighed. “Vicar, the medical examiner said that it might be a week before he will release my mother’s body. I have a predicament. My wife has accepted a yearlong teaching fellowship in Sydney, and I’ve taken a job at the university as well. Our flight leaves in three days. We were coming to see my mother two days from now.”

“I am so sorry that you were not able to see her.”

“I’m not sure how to ask this, but I would like to have a memorial service before we leave. I have no other close family, but my wife’s parents have agreed to handle the situation when Mum’s body is released.”

Addison nodded. “That’s not a problem. We can arrange a memorial for your mother in two days. Do you have some ideas about the service?” Liam nodded, and the vicar continued. “Let’s get started.”

~~~

The morning of the memorial service was unseasonably warm and sunny. Addison breathed in the sweet fragrance of roses and other flowers that adorned the sanctuary. Imogen Smyth was standing next to an easel that held a large photo of Edith and her husband. She was placing flowers in a tall arrangement.

“Imogen, I am so sorry for your loss. I know you and Edith were best friends.”

She blinked away tears as she turned toward the vicar. “Thank you. I miss her greatly. This is why I asked Liam if I could use flowers from her garden to honor her.”

Members of the village filled the sanctuary for the service. Edith and her husband were well liked, and many came to say goodbye to her. After the choir sang and the vicar spoke, Liam rose to make brief remarks.

He stood at the podium beside the photo of his parents. A wreath of yellow roses adorned the easel. Fingers gripping the edges, Liam cleared his throat, then spoke.

“I chose this photo of my parents because they were inseparable in life and now joined again in death. As shocking as my mother’s unexpected death has been that they are together brings those of us who love her peace.”

He talked briefly about his life growing up and ended talking about Edith’s love for her family.

“The wreath you see below the photos is created from the beautiful rose that my mother developed, and the UK Horticultural Society recognized it. She named the rose Jasper’s Love after the love she and my father shared. My father called her My English Rose. May the rose live as a symbol of their love and of how we loved them.”

After the service, the vicar and his wife offered a light lunch to the family and mourners. Having refreshed his tea, Addison stood in the vicarage doorway, his eyes on Imogen and Liam, who appeared to be having a quiet but intense argument. He watched as Imogen angrily spun and walked away toward the village. He was surprised to see Liam spot him and head in his direction.

“Vicar, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Of course. What can I do?”

Liam pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “My in-laws are returning to Cambridge with us and are taking us to Heathrow tomorrow. Would you be so kind as to look after Hollyhock House as well as the floral shop until my father-in-law can return?”

“Of course, I will.” Addison hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should question the conversation he had witnessed. “Liam, you seemed to be arguing with Imogen. Is everything okay?”

Liam blew out a deep breath. “My mother had told me she was unhappy with Imogen for some reason. We were going to talk about it when we saw her.” He seemed uneasy. “Imogen wanted to know what we were going to do about the shop. I told her that as far I was concerned, it was business as usual. I said we would have to see what my mother’s will says. Thankfully, my father-in-law is an accountant and will oversee my mother’s interest. Imogen doesn’t seem to want any interference.” Liam shook his head. “The timing couldn’t be worse, but I can’t send my family half-way around the world without me.” He handed the keys to Addison. “Thank you. You have all my numbers, and I’ll text you my father-in-law’s mobile number.”

 ~~~

Addison woke with a nagging feeling he was missing something about Edith’s death. The fact that Liam revealed that his mother was unhappy with Imogen had triggered unease. After breakfast and attending to church business, he kissed Muriel goodbye and headed to the Hampton Green Florals shop. 

A white wreath with a ribbon bearing Edith’s name hung on the front door. He pulled the door open to the tinkle of a small bell. Imogen was putting an arrangement together and looked up as he walked in.

“Vicar.” Her eyes widened. “What brings you here?”

He noted her glance toward the small office behind the counter. The door was open, and he could see the desktop.

“Just wanted to check on you. I know you and Edith have been friends for years. This must be quite difficult to be back in the shop so soon.”

“Oh—yes, awfully hard. We—we were friends since childhood.” She looked away. “However, we have two weddings this weekend and several other orders. Martha has gone to the flower market for me this morning, and I have a part-time person coming in this afternoon to help. Business goes on.”

“Yes, it does, and while it is good to grieve, life must go on. If you need my counsel, please call me.”

“Thanks, Vicar, I will.”

The tinkle of the door faded behind him as he walked toward his bicycle, which he had leaned against the florist store’s marigold colored wall. Now he knew why he felt unease. The night Edith died, when he sat at the dining room table with the doctor waiting to talk to DCI Winston, the table was clear. Only hours before, the table was laden with numerous documents and a unique purple laptop. That purple laptop was now sitting on the desk in the florist office. Why was Edith’s computer from home, sitting on the business desk along with a desk computer and another laptop? Why indeed?

Addison rode quickly to Hollyhock House and let himself inside. He hated the pall of death that he felt walking into a room where a soul departed. Chills passed through him, and he prayed for the dead before he began to walk through the house. Perhaps the laptop he saw in the floral shop was not Edith’s, but he needed to find out. Room after room, no laptop and no sign of the papers and notebooks. He hesitated to call Liam but decided he needed to do so.

“Liam, so sorry to bother you, but I have a couple of questions.”

“No problem, we’re on the way to Heathrow. What questions?”

“I need to know if you removed your mother’s laptop from her house?”

“No, don’t remember seeing one. I know she had one, did all of her horticultural work on it and personal correspondence. Why? Is it missing?”

“I’m not certain. When I saw your mother the afternoon before her death, it was on the dining room table along with a lot of paperwork. When I returned upon learning of her death, it was gone. It’s been bothering me. Do you know what she was working on?”

“I do. She had created another hybrid rose and was applying for recognition from the Society. She was excited and told me that she had a surprise about the rose. My wife and I suspected she was going to name the rose after our daughter. Vicar, I’d appreciate it if you could locate the laptop and her notes. I want to see if I can register the rose in her honor.”

“I’ll do my best.” He took a breath. “Do you know if Imogen had any part in developing the rose? Could that be why your mother was upset?” 

“I don’t know, but Mum was quite upset with her.”

“I’ll let you know when I find the laptop.”

Ending the call, Addison experienced another chill. This one, however, was more sinister. He was beginning to believe that evil was afoot.

~~~

Addison had resorted to pacing in his office. Muriel was chairing a meeting for the upcoming village fete, and while he was looking forward to the event, the chattering was annoying. He had called DCI Winston, but the detective chief inspector was testifying in court. He would have to wait.

What was he going to tell the detective? Well, sir, I suspect Imogen knows more about Edith’s death than she let us think? Edith’s computer is now at the floral shop? Edith was unhappy with Imogen. Was that enough to tell Winston he thought Imogen at the very least stole the laptop? No doubt, the detective would think him mad. Maybe he was. When his mobile rang, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

The ID screen revealed Winston’s name. Addison took a deep breath and answered, telling the detective exactly what was running through his mind. The detective listened and surprised him.

“Vicar, I must say I may share your concerns. I spoke with the ME this morning, and he decided to run a few more tests as he was also concerned about the cause of death. It doesn’t appear natural. Calling him now and then I’m coming to Hampton Green.”

Addison sat for a moment, staring out at the garden and Jasper’s Love rose bushes. He couldn’t sit by and decided to visit Imogen again. As he rose, his phone rang. A congregant needed him, so he detoured first to visit the caller and then go to the shop. He needed to know why the laptop was there.

 ~~~

It was four in the afternoon before Addison walked into the shop. A customer was leaving, as was the part-time clerk as he entered. Imogen again looked surprised to see him. 

“What brings you back, Vicar?” 

He noted her tone was sarcastic. He sucked in a deep breath and asked God to forgive him for telling a bit of a lie. “Liam asked me to locate his mother’s computer. There are important documents on it as well as personal photographs. In the chaos of Edith’s death and the need to leave the country so quickly, he forgot to look for it.”

“I wouldn’t have any idea where it is.”

“I believe it is an unusual color, purple. It was on the table with some papers the morning before she died. It wasn’t there after she died. The table was clear.”

Imogen held his gaze for a moment, then smiled. “Would you like some tea? Perhaps, we can think of where her laptop could be.” 

There was a small seating area in the showroom, and she asked him to wait there. He sat where he could see if she went into the office. She didn’t but remained in the small area where there was a hotpot.

Minutes later, she brought two cups of tea, sugar, and cream on a tray and sat at the small table. “Hope you don’t mind that I poured your tea before bringing it. Please help yourself.”

While he added sugar, she chattered on. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue what happened to her laptop. I will say this. I had rushed over and realized I forgot my medications. I went home to get them. I didn’t notice the laptop, but she must have put it away while I was gone.”

“Was she strong enough to do that?”

“She must have been.”

He lifted the teacup. “Do you have a purple computer as well? I thought I saw one in the office this morning.”

“No, you must have seen some purple tissue paper. Drink your tea before it gets cold, Vicar.”

The cup was inches from his lips when a loud voice rang out.

“Don’t drink that, Vicar.”

DCI Winston stood in the doorway, an officer with him.

“Mrs. Smyth,” he handed her a document. “I have a search warrant for these premises and for your home.”

She stood. Her hands clenched. “How dare you.”

“I dare. And I…” A constable holding a bottle with an aged label arrived and a purple laptop tucked under his arm. Winston smiled. “Let me rephrase that. I’m here to arrest you for the murder of Edith Marcum.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Yes, I killed her. She took my favorite rose from my garden and created her new hybrid. She told me when she started working on it that she would name the rose for me. But no, her son had a daughter, and she decided to name it the Pink Eloise. I pleaded with her, but she said it was final. Then she said, I think it’s better that I buy out your part of the business. No—this business is mine too, and I wasn’t going to allow it.”

Winston told the constable to read her rights and take her away.

Addison found his voice after stunned silence. “How? How did she kill Edith?”

“The same way she was about to kill you. Arsenic.”

Addison stared at the cup, then at the detective.

“I believe you arrived just in time.”

_____________________

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