Keeping Mum (A Garden Society Mystery) Read online

  “She was there, though I could swear Dad said she would be gone all week, but there she was.”

  Jake frowned. “Does that mean something?”

  Annie stopped and looked at him for a long moment, then at Cam. “I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, I would like to think it means she’s a flake, but I’ve never thought that was one of her faults before. She said her brother called, but didn’t say what about. I really hope it’s not something bad.”

  “What could it be?” Jake asked.

  “Getting rid of my dad!” Annie shouted. Her tears returned.

  Jake stepped in to hold her, but she pushed him back, letting Cam grab her instead.

  “She wouldn’t hurt him,” Cam said. “She’d know she’d get caught. If she had anything to do with it, he’s okay.”

  Annie sniffed into Cam’s chest. “You better be right, or I’ll have to unleash the flying monkeys.”

  “Annie,” Rob said. “It is probably just that he saw something.”

  “Freaking Derrick Windermere! Damn man probably deserved what he got. He put half this town out of business. Who’d hurt my dad over that?”

  “Maybe they’ll let him go if they know he agrees with them,” Jake said.

  “See, that’s the trouble,” Annie said. “Dad’s feeling was it was just capitalism at work. It’s the kind of thing he always shrugged his shoulders at.”

  Jake hung his head.

  “Maybe it’s somebody trying to hurt the party,” Rob suggested.

  “Or take it over,” Cam countered. “Derrick and Senator Schulz were the party’s old blood. Maybe they want to be the new power.”

  Though, strictly speaking, that wasn’t true. Derrick was just the party’s money. New or old had nothing to do with it.

  “Can we please . . .” Annie said. “I can’t think about all this tonight. Can we not speculate until we know something?”

  Cam hugged Annie again, then Annie finally let Jake hug her as well and take her upstairs.

  When they were alone, Cam and Rob could finally talk more freely.

  “You think this is politics?” Rob asked.

  “I think money is more likely,” Cam said. “Windermere was a first-class ass. He really did reverse several fortunes.”

  “So you think Annie’s dad is just a case of wrong place, wrong time?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I felt more confident about that.”

  “And this . . . Cruella?”

  “Elle Chamberlain Schulz. Gold digger. I think Annie is her dad’s primary heir, so Elle is better off with Senator Schulz alive than dead.”

  “Well, that’s helpful.”

  “I hope so. I didn’t want to bring it up with Annie, since I figured a sentence that included ‘dead’ would be a downer, regardless.”

  “I need to get this story in,” Rob said.

  “I know you do. I’m fine.” Cam was familiar with newspaper deadlines by now, and understood Rob’s compulsion to advance his career. She would do the same if she were the reporter.

  “You can do it here, yes?”

  “I could.”

  “You write and send. I’ll take a bath and try to relax.”

  “Oh, right. Like I can write when you’re wet and naked in the next room.”

  “Your incentive, hotshot, is if you finish in time, maybe we can go to sleep together. Your deadline is two?”

  He nodded.

  “Try to meet it an hour early.”

  • • •

  • • •

  The warm water was soothing, but Cam’s brain was racing. She was trying to relive the party and all the encounters she’d seen with Derrick Windermere that implied bad blood. It was no small number. There was the man Annie said her dad couldn’t stand following around behind Derrick, and the man Derrick had sent off for offending Senator Schulz, or so it had appeared. The harem had looked rather angry, and Toni Howe had been annoyed with him, too. Cam had thought at least Toni’s situation had a reasonable solution on the horizon. Then there was what they had learned from Joel Jaimeson about him when they were planning the party—that Derrick had been milking fortunes from other people.

  Nobody had displayed obvious bad blood toward Alden Schulz other than the man who’d been sent off and the other man, Melvin, whom Annie said her dad already disliked before the night began. Then again, Senator Schulz was a party patriarch, a person one didn’t confront directly.

  She realized, though, in addition to political animosity, that the event was a perfect opportunity for someone who had a personal issue to take advantage of the setup. She had no idea who Derrick Windermere might have offended personally—surely dozens of people.

  She was just glad she wasn’t stuck investigating this fiasco. She didn’t want to dig around in the sleazebag’s life. She would continue to help Annie, but that was about finding her dad. Being a murder witness was a “just in case” angle.

  She faded off as she lay in the soothing water, and just before she fell asleep, it occurred to her that her father had been with someone who would have liked their event to end in tragedy. She hated to think it, but maybe he knew something.

  • • •

  • • •

  Rob woke her up. She wasn’t sure how much later it was, but the water was definitely tepid. He dried her and got her into bed, kissed her forehead, and that was the last she knew.

  It was strange to wake up naked the next morning. It wasn’t normally her thing, but at least she felt rested. The bath had done that much.

  As she showered to prepare for her day, she tried to think of a way to spin this event. She would do her best to describe it as a tragedy, but RGS would not benefit from being mentioned, so she would leave them out of it.

  She was just drying off as her phone buzzed.

  “Tunia?” she answered.

  “Cam! Get over here!”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “They’re searching the van!”

  “Slow down, Petunia. Who is?”

  “The police!”

  “The catering van? Why?”

  “Somebody was kidnapped? They must think our van was used.”

  “Okay, calm down. You and Nick didn’t kidnap Annie’s dad, did you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Then all looking in the van can do is clear you.”

  “But we cleaned it.”

  “Which is normal. You do use it to transport food. That’s a normal and perfectly explainable practice.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Petunia seemed to breathe easier, but then gasped. “It was Annie’s dad?”

  “It was.”

  Petunia paused, and Cam thought she was wrestling with her dislike of public figures but fondness for Annie. “Tell her I’m sorry, okay?”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  They hung up. Petunia’s nerves were understandable. Six months earlier, Nick had been falsely accused of murder. Cam didn’t see any way they could be accused of this. The evidence would clear them. The search must just be a precaution because the van was known to have been on location.

  She debated going to the office after that but decided to work from home. She emailed the Roanoke Garden Society board to let them know where she was and how to reach her.

  Next she followed through on the idea swimming in her head when she’d fallen asleep the night before. She retrieved her phone.

  “Daddy?”

  “Hiya, sunshine!”

  “Have the police . . .” she stalled. This was the third time she’d asked her dad this question, and it wasn’t getting any easier. For the first time, though, he seemed lost.

  “Have the police what?”

  “A couple of bad things happened last night. I’m surprised they haven’t reached you.”

  “Again?”

  Cam sighed. “Look. Could we meet for lunch?”

  “Of course we can, but can you give me a hint?” She h
eard crumpling and then, “Wait, never mind. Murder, huh?”

  Damn. That meant this news had made the papers already. Why was Rob so efficient? No wonder he had disappeared before she woke up.

  “Yeah, and does it mention Annie’s dad?”

  “Should it?”

  “He was kidnapped.”

  “Oh, dear. Sunshine, I think maybe I should pick up lunch and we should meet Annie. Do you know where she is?”

  “She planned to work. The customer part is rough, but the baking part calms her. She said she’d go crazy sitting around waiting.”

  “Then we’ll take lunch there. Meet you at noon?”

  “Make it one. Annie sometimes has a busy lunchtime with all those nearby businesses.”

  “One it is, then!”

  • • •

  • • •

  When Cam reached Sweet Surprise, her dad was working the counter. Annie was in back baking. She frowned at her dad.

  “You said dealing with the customers might be hard. I’m not so senile I can’t put a cupcake in a box and work a cash register.”

  Cam felt herself tear up and then scolded her own sentimentality. She loved that her dad thought of her best friend as his own daughter . . . only maybe with more TMI than he shared with his own daughters. This wasn’t the first time he’d been there for Annie.

  Cam walked behind the counter and kissed her dad, then proceeded to the back to find Annie pulling what appeared to be cheesecakes from the industrial oven.

  “Hey.”

  “Have I ever told you how lucky you got in the dad department?” Annie said.

  “I know. He’s yours, too. As often as you need him.”

  “I seem to need him more than you do, lately.”

  “That’s still less than Petunia, and he loves to help,” Cam said.

  Annie set the tray on a large marble slab.

  “So? Cheesecake?”

  “I’m trying to perfect a few flavors for the holidays. I’ve got a pumpkin, an eggnog, and that one,” Annie pointed an accusatory finger at the cracked culprit, “is me trying to figure out some way to incorporate rum. I was thinking plum pudding for my inspiration.”

  “Why don’t you just make . . . you know . . . plum pudding? Or Christmas pudding? I think I have my grandma’s recipe.”

  “Really? See, family recipes aren’t so big at my house. They tend to get burned in divorces.”

  Cam tried not to laugh. “I’ll find it and give it to you for a starting place.”

  “Perfect! Now what did your dad bring for lunch?”

  CHAPTER 6

  The three sat around a table in Annie’s back room. The bell would alert them if a customer came in, and Cam’s dad leaped up each time it happened.

  It frustrated Cam, as her real goal had been to question her dad and the stream was steady enough that he rarely sat, but it was still companionable. Finally, Annie broke onto the conversational freeway Cam felt they needed to approach.

  “So you’re dating power women now?” Annie teased.

  “Shucks, Vivian and I have been friends for years.”

  “I don’t remember her,” Cam said.

  “Sure you do, sunshine. Aunt Vi?”

  “Aunt Vi?” Cam knew Aunt Vi was not an actual relation, but had in fact been her mother’s college roommate. Cam hadn’t seen her since she was in elementary school and never would have recognized the professional woman she saw the night before from the big hair and miniskirt of her memory. “Are you sure?”

  Her dad laughed. “I didn’t recognize her either. It’s been twenty years. I suppose being a lawyer will curb someone’s style a little.”

  “Man, no kidding!” Cam scratched her head. “Wasn’t she blonde?”

  “I guess not naturally. It was different times. Your mother and I got married before . . . well . . . the silly hair and all. So we didn’t get too caught up, though I remember shoulder pads that made Mom look like a linebacker.”

  Cam grinned. The eighties hadn’t missed her mother entirely. Cam also remembered a fitness craze that involved Lycra and leotards and a tall-bangs thing her mother had tried for a while.

  “So how did you and Aunt Vi reconnect?” Cam asked.

  “Facebook!”

  Cam almost dropped her sandwich. “I didn’t know you were on Facebook.”

  “Well no. I can hardly have my daughters monitoring who I talk to.”

  “I’m his Facebook friend,” Annie said.

  Cam stood and let out a disgruntled noise.

  “Annie doesn’t care who I flirt with,” her dad argued.

  “It’s true,” Annie said. “I dig that your dad’s a babe magnet.”

  “I wouldn’t judge!” Cam said.

  Annie dropped her head so she was looking at Cam through her eyebrows. The front bell dinged and Cam’s dad rose. When he was out of earshot, Annie whispered.

  “Let me do this. He has like forty friends and he doesn’t want to worry what you think. I’ll keep an eye.”

  Cam was still a little offended, but she supposed it made some sense. Annie cheered every time her dad got lucky, and Cam preferred not to think about it. But Annie would tell her if anything big happened, or if anybody who was a bad idea appeared in the mix.

  She was just about to clarify that with Annie when her dad returned, looking pleased. “I gave her a sample of that pumpkin cheesecake and she ordered one for Thanksgiving.”

  Annie looked back at the cheesecakes. Two pieces were missing from one. Her jaw dropped.

  “What?” her dad asked. “I tried it and it was fantastic!”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “I can’t leave you unsupervised!”

  Her dad chuckled. Cam knew that he preferred to think of himself as a bit of a renegade.

  She finally worked up the nerve to ask her dad about the night before—about what he saw and did, and how frequently he was with his date throughout the evening.

  “Well, she was the victim! I hardly saw her once she got up from supper to powder her nose! Though we were both surrounded by people the whole time, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  It was, but now that he said it, Cam felt guilty for it. She hadn’t been accusing her dad, but the question sounded like it.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy. I just . . . from a motive perspective . . . Vi may run against Jared, and having his event go wrong . . . really wrong . . .”

  “She’s not running for that seat. She’s going for the House of Delegates.” He looked very proud.

  “Really?”

  “Not that she said anything about cronyism in the state Senate,” he said.

  Annie snorted. Great. Cam didn’t need the two of them feeding off each other when she was trying to get to the bottom of something.

  “You said she got up to powder her nose. When?”

  “Dessert. Because I got to finish hers—she’d left it.”

  “And had she just gotten her role?”

  “As a matter of fact, she had.”

  Annie made a frustrated noise. “That was us. We told her to use the excuse, but to get out to the murder scene.”

  Cam nodded. “Okay, so what about during the party—before supper. Did you and she ever talk to Derrick?”

  “Not me. Though when I stopped to shake Alden’s hand—you know, because of you girls—I did hear her scoff at him and say, ‘You wish!’”

  “At Derrick?”

  Cam’s dad nodded, looking proud again. Cam thought he hadn’t quite processed the implications.

  “Did she say what it was about?”

  “Didn’t ask. I figured it was politics.”

  “Okay. Did you see anything that might have been a clue about Annie’s dad?” Cam asked.

  “No . . . I did see him later, though, after supper. And I know what time it was. Or . . . well, I can tell you. Because I got a game hint: where I was supposed to go and what to say for the game. It came on my phone—the alibi I was supposed to be using.”

  He pul
led his phone out and scanned his texts.

  “Nine forty-two. So I saw him at maybe nine forty.”

  “Was he with anyone?” Annie asked.

  “Not that I saw. He was on the phone and it didn’t look game related.”

  “We can get that,” Annie said. “Jake can look up who he talked to.”

  “And where was he?”

  “Fairway of the first hole. I was at the tee.”

  “Fairway? That’s where Derrick was.”

  “Well, I saw the crowd, but my first clue, officially, was on the other side of the clubhouse, so I quit following the crowd. Alden was a little farther down.”

  “So that means he was taken after the murder,” Cam said.

  “It would seem so.”

  “It also means he might have seen it,” Annie said.

  Cam wrote down the details. It wasn’t much, but it was definitely more than what they’d known before. Not that Jake would have shared details with her, though maybe he would with Annie. It was her dad, after all, who was missing.

  • • •

  • • •

  When lunch was over and they all rose and hugged, Annie asked Cam if she could stick around awhile.

  “Sure. That fiasco last night was my big event, and a press release entirely devoid of the Roanoke Garden Society was my response. It’s been sent to the watchdogs—apparently explosive political news has channels to go through that gardening news doesn’t, even if there is a body involved. Plus, the office phones have been forwarded to my cell. If there’s an emergency, I’ll know.”

  They sent Cam’s dad off, then Annie got behind the counter and began taking inventory, not meeting Cam’s eyes.

  “Did you know he was leaving her?” Annie said, without turning to Cam.

  “He . . . your dad? Elle?”

  Annie nodded. “He gave me several hints last night that it just wasn’t working. I puzzled it out while I tried to sleep. You know politicians and euphemisms, but I’m sure that’s what he meant. You don’t think she’d . . .”

  “Why didn’t you tell me the hints last night?”

  “I hadn’t worked out that they were hints. Denial maybe?”

  “Did you tell Jake?” Cam asked.

  “I’ve barely seen him.”