CHAPTER FOUR
Sunday. A day of rest. At least, that's what it was supposed to be. I'd woken up at noon, after a morning of fitful sleep plagued by nightmares, to four missed calls and twenty text messages. My parents, Penny, the girls from my book club, even Finn, who requested I come in Monday for a follow-up interview. The one person I hadn't heard from was Chris.
The little I'd been able to overhear between Finn and the other officers the night of Justin's murder indicated that Finn was also interested in finding Chris. Finn would likely have an officer watching Chris's house, but I had to see for myself.
By five, I couldn't handle it anymore and chased the setting sun across town to where Chris had a house near the high school. I parked in the driveway, which was empty, and picked my way over the icy sidewalk to the front door.
No police cruiser sat across the street. Maybe Finn had already interviewed Chris and determined he wasn't a suspect. Maybe Chris was busy helping Finn find who did it.
An Amazon package leaned against the storm door. I picked it up and knocked. No answer. Stamping my feet against the cold, I walked carefully back to the garage and jumped, trying to see in through the windows that ran across the top of the door. The garage was empty.
Standing in the driveway, I was at a loss as to what to do. I pulled my phone from my coat pocket and called Chris again. I'd listened to his voicemail message so many times, I practically had the thing memorized.
At the beep I said, "Chris, this is getting ridiculous. I'm at your house and your car is gone. Please let me know you're okay. I don't know what happened with Justin, but we can work it out. Call me." I almost ended the call but added, "And there was a package on your porch. I'm taking it home with me so no one steals it. Call me," I added one more time.
By that night, I'd worked myself into a frenzy about Chris's disappearance. I stared at the ceiling most of the night, praying my phone would ring and it would be Chris. It hadn't, and I'd started Monday morning exhausted and wrung out.
After two cups of coffee and a stale protein bar I'd found in the back of my nearly empty pantry, I walked through the front door of Camelot Flowers, my home away from home.
I'd grown up sitting on a tall stool behind the counter, coloring pictures of My Little Ponies. I'd spent my teen years helping my mom make bouquets. I'd majored in business in college so I could come back and take on more of the workload from my parents as my dad's health got worse.
Turning on the lights, I went through my opening routine. Thirty minutes later, soft music played over the store speakers, the live plants had been watered, the orders checked for the day, and the shelves of cute knick-knacks dusted.
I flipped the sign to open. Before I made it back behind the counter, the bell jingled cheerfully from above the door. Donna Mayor walked in wearing purple from head to toe. Even her cane had a purple bow on it. Everything Donna wore was always coordinated, whether it was all red, all yellow, or all green. Today, she looked like a plump eggplant.
Although she'd been my fourth-grade teacher, now that she was retired, she insisted I call her Donna. "Good morning, Donna," I said cheerfully. "What brings you in so early?"
"Good morning, Gwen. You look lovely this morning," Donna said as she made her way to the counter.
My smile grew wider. "Thank you," I said. I'd channeled my nervous energy about not hearing from Chris into curling my light-brown hair this morning, although the maroon sweatshirt with the words Camelot Flowers written in curling white script was nothing special, I'd also taken extra time with my makeup, something I didn't do on a daily basis.
Donna reached out and patted my hand where it rested on the counter. "I'm here because I heard about Justin. Don't you worry yourself, honey. No one really thinks that nice, young Chris hurt anyone," she said kindly.
Her words soothed the ache in my chest. "Thank you," I said gratefully.
"You know, I've been thinking about Justin," she said as she leaned over and sniffed a small bouquet of marigolds I'd put on the counter to cheer the space up. Not that there was any absence of cheer in the sunny space filled with flowers and other plants. If you ignored the snow piled on the edges of the sidewalk outside, you could pretend it was spring in the warmth of the store.
"I'm sure the whole town's been thinking about him," I said quietly.
"Now I'm not one to gossip…" Donna paused, waiting for my customary response.
I tried to shake away my sadness and focus. Donna hadn't just stopped by to check on me. Not if she had gossip to share. Maybe I'd learn something important. "No, of course not," I said, reassuring the good Lutheran woman that she was absolved of any wrongdoing in sharing whatever she'd learned with me.
She leaned in, her watery blue eyes sparking with excitement. "I heard Justin and Samantha Weston broke up Friday," she said in an excited whisper.
First, I hadn't known the new detective had started. Now I didn't know about the breakup? I needed to get back in the loop and fast. Especially with Justin dead and Chris missing. "Why didn't I know that?" I asked in bewilderment.
Donna shook her head as if saying she had no idea why I was so out of the loop but continued, "I heard it was a pretty bad breakup. Margie told me Samantha's just a mess about it."
I picked up the pen next to the order pad and tapped it against my chin as I said, "Why would they break up again? I heard things were going well this time."
Donna leaned in even closer. If the woman leaned in any farther, she'd end up in my lap. "Well, you didn't hear this from me…" she said before trailing off once more.
"No, of course not," I answered more quickly this time, fully engaged in Donna's little game.
Donna glanced around the room, despite the fact that we were clearly alone in the small store, before saying, "I heard he cheated on her."
"What?" I shrieked.
Donna shrugged casually, but her eyes gleamed with excitement. "That's what I heard," she said simply.
In a small town, it was hard knowing what rumors had a thread of truth, which ones were completely true, and which ones were flat-out lies. I would need to ask around. Cheating could be a motive for murder.
Samantha was a few years younger than me, but her sister had been in my graduating class. Samantha was sweet. Too sweet for Justin. I had a hard time imagining her killing anyone. But if I'd learned anything from all the true-crime podcasts I'd been listening to, you could never really know what someone was capable of.
"You're sure about this?" I asked Donna.
Donna shifted her weight, leaning on her cane. "I'm sure that they broke up. I can't say I'm sure about the cheating," she replied.
"Who else might know?" I asked absently, more to myself than Donna.
"You could ask his friends," Donna suggested.
I mentally scanned through Justin's friends. Chris wasn't an option until he got back to me. If Penny's husband, Jack, didn't know about the reason for the fight between Justin and Chris, he wasn't going to know anything about Justin's love life. There was one person…
The coffee turned in my stomach at the thought of talking to Derek Thompson on purpose.
"What's that look for, dear?" Donna asked, clearly concerned.
I pushed forward a smile. "It's nothing. I just realized I could ask Derek Thompson about Justin and Samantha."
"Ah, Derek," Donna said, smiling fondly. "He always did have trouble spelling the word canoe."
I shot her a confused look. What an odd thing to remember about somebody. It made me wonder what she associated with me from the fourth grade. "I'll find him later today and see if he knows anything. Thanks for the tip," I said.
I'd have to wait for Hailey, the teenager who helped out in the store after school, before I could hunt down Derek. We didn't have many custom orders today, and as a senior in high school, Hailey had been working at Camelot Flowers for three years. She could handle the store alone for a couple hours while I talked to Derek, and I knew just where I'd find him.
Derek loved two things—himself and working on his body. If I waited until Hailey arrived, I'd find Derek at Titan Fitness just down the street. I'd pop in, get my answers, and start a list of who could have murdered Justin.
"Interested in any flowers today?" I asked Donna.
She smiled sweetly. "Not today, but I will take one of these." She plucked a handmade caramel from a baby blue dish in front of the cash register. Not handmade by me, but Josie at Fairytale Sweets across the street kept us well stocked.
"One caramel," I said. "That will be fifty cents."
Donna leaned her cane against the counter and dug an embroidered coin purse from her quilted purse. She counted out one quarter, two dimes, and five pennies before handing them to me. "Now, Gwen, you keep me posted on anything you find out," Donna said, pocketing the caramel in her purple pants. "We all want to know who really killed Justin."
"I will," I promised.
While keeping Donna posted wasn't high on my list of priorities, I had no doubt she'd keep herself in the know. I foresaw more trips to Camelot Flowers in her future. At least until Justin's murder was solved.
Donna left, and I straightened the already straight order pad on the counter. I sent Chris another text. Call me. I'd already threatened bodily harm if he didn't get back to me on text number ten. Better to keep it simple now.
I pulled my hair over my shoulder and started braiding it. Penny called it my nervous tic. I called it keeping my hands busy while my brain worked overtime. I needed to get the bouquets made for the orders that had come in over the weekend, but I also needed to get back to Margie at the police station and schedule my next interrogation with Finn. Who cared if Finn called it an interview? He'd had the gall to imply Chris had something to do with Justin's death, so interrogation it was.
Finn might exude safety and strength with his broad shoulders and warm smile, but his stuffy suits and, as far as I was concerned, stuffy attitude made it impossible to enjoy. It didn't help that the warm smile seemed to turn icy every time I opened my mouth.
I dialed the non-emergency number for the police station before I could put it off any longer. Margie, the receptionist who took her job as the gatekeeper to the precinct very seriously, answered the phone. Margie had been my Sunday School teacher twenty-five years ago, was my mother's friend, and represented one of the many people in town who still doted on me, despite the fact that I was only months away from the end of my twenties.
As expected, Margie was delighted to hear from me. "Gwen, dear, I'm so glad you called. How is it, running things at the shop with your parents out of town? I know your mom was worried about leaving you to do all of it alone," she said with concern.
"It's going great, Margie. You can tell my mom to stop worrying and enjoy Florida. Maybe she'll actually do it if she hears it from you," I said with a laugh.
Margie chuckled warmly before changing the subject as only Margie could do. "And when are you going to find a nice young man to settle down with? You know, I was just telling your mother about this app I heard about on a podcast. It's a dating app called Bumble. I guess they're hoping you'll bumble your way into a relationship." She laughed heartily at her own joke.
Part of me wanted to stab myself with the pen I was holding, while part of me couldn't help but smile at Margie. She loved me like a mother, so I could forgive her meddling. "I'll let you know if I decide to download Bumble. You know," I said slyly, "maybe we should join together."
It took a lot to stun Margie into silence. I held back my own chuckle.
"I don't think Bumble is for old ladies like me," she finally said, sounding equal parts scandalized and amused by my suggestion.
"Sixty is the new thirty," I teased.
"Coming from someone who's almost thirty herself, that's saying something," Margie teased right back.
"Anyway…" I said. Margie wasn't the only one who could change the subject. "I got a message from Finn Butler asking me to come in for another interview today."
Margie's voice lowered, and I could tell she was cupping her hand around the receiver. "It's just awful what happened to Justin. He had such a good heart, even if he found himself in trouble sometimes. I always said that young man could go far if he'd just—"
"Margie," I said, cutting her off. When Margie really got going, there was no end in sight. "It's awful what happened." I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Dang it. The unpredictable tears were a new thing and something I was working hard to control. I wasn't being very successful. "Finn said I could come in any time after one. I have to wait for Hailey to get here at two thirty, and then I have to run one more errand. Does four work?"
"Oh, for sure, honey. I'll put you on his schedule." Then Margie switched gears again and said, "That Finn Butler sure is a handsome young man. Your mom and I were just discussing the possibility of—"
"Margie," I interrupted again, the warning clear in my tone. I had no doubt what Margie and my mother had been discussing.
Margie chuckled and said, "Okay, honey. I'll put you on his schedule at four. But you keep an open mind. He's a very handsome fellow. And no wedding ring. Maybe wear something nice. Maybe low cut, even. It couldn't hurt."
I grinned at Margie's good-hearted meddling. "I was thinking of going for a good long run first. You know, really get the sweat flowing," I teased.
Margie chuckled but didn't let me off the hook. "I'm sure it would give you a lovely glow," she said.
We said our goodbyes, and I slid my phone into the front pocket of my sweatshirt. I should count my blessings my dad hadn't insisted on full renaissance garb for Camelot Flower employees. Not that he hadn't tried. My mom had been the only thing that saved me from having to look like my namesake, Queen Guinevere, every day.
By the time I sat down for lunch with the tuna sandwich I'd been able to cobble together from my nearly empty shelves, my anxiety over Chris's silence had robbed me of my appetite.
I spent the rest of my lunch break ignoring my sandwich as I mindlessly scrolled on Facebook. If I didn't hear back from Chris by the time I was done at the police station, I was going to call Uncle Stan and officially report him missing. What good was having the police chief as an unofficial uncle if I couldn't call in a few favors?
I checked the time and was about to get back to work when a Facebook status update near the bottom of the phone screen stopped me. It read, Sad to hear about Justin, but it seemed like it was a long time coming. That guy was always in some sort of trouble or another. It was the last sentence that made my blood run cold. Looks like Chris Crawford did the whole town a favor.
It couldn't possibly be true. My gaze flicked off the accusing sentence to see the name of the person who'd posted it—Tony Reagan. Tony? I flashed back on his weird behavior at Bucky's Saturday night after Justin had shown up. While not seething with anger like Justin had been, Tony's words toward Justin had carried their own bite. If the police were talking to people in town, someone was going to see Tony's accusation of Chris and tell them about it. I made a mental note to ask Penny what she thought of Tony's words.
Hailey walked through the door right at two thirty. Her bright blonde hair was up in a high ponytail, and she blew a bubble with pink bubble gum as she set her backpack behind the counter.
"Hey, Gwen," she said, shrugging out of her blue and white Star Junction High School letter jacket. She'd lettered in swimming, band, and the debate team. The fact that she had any hours in her week to devote to Camelot Flowers still astounded me. "Busy today?" she asked.
"A few custom orders," I answered. I pulled a clipboard from beneath the counter. "I made a list of things to get done if it's slow this afternoon. I have to run out for a bit. Think you can handle things on your own?"
"For sure," she said, nodding enthusiastically. "I can handle it. Totally."
I smiled at her. I had no doubt she'd do great. "I'll be back around six to help you close up," I said.
Hailey perched on the stool behind the counter. "I heard you were the one to find Justin's body," she said bluntly.
The reminder of Justin's murder socked me in the gut, and I sucked in a steadying breath. The rest of my afternoon was going to be about Justin. Especially if I could catch Derek at the gym. I needed to get used to talking about it. "I did," I said to Hailey.
"Was it awful?" She sounded more intrigued than horrified. "We were talking about it at school today and decided finding a dead body must have been so weird. A lot of kids know I work here at Camelot Flowers, so everyone was asking me about it today."
It made sense that the teens in town were just as interested in Justin's death as the senior citizens, but I was keenly aware that several blocks off Main Street, Justin's parents were grieving the loss of their son. I made a mental note to send them flowers. It's what my mom would've done if she were here.
"Listen, Justin's death isn't something cool or funny," I said to Hailey, keeping my tone light but hoping the message sank in. "Just be careful that someone who might be sad he's dead doesn't overhear you guys speculating about it."
Hailey nodded gravely. She was a sweet kid, and I could see she was taking my words to heart. "We won't, Gwen," she said. "I promise. I'll tell everyone to chill out."
"Thanks, Hailey." I gave her a wide smile to make sure she knew I wasn't upset with her. "Any questions before I go?" I asked.
"Nope," she said brightly. Her ponytail swung back and forth as she shook her head. "I've got this."
I pulled my coat on and grabbed my purse from the back room before heading for Titan Fitness. I had just enough time to find Derek and get the truth about Justin and Samantha before I needed to be at the police station.
While I hadn't heard from Chris, I knew he was Finn's number-one suspect. Maybe I'd learn something from Derek to take the heat off Chris. If not, I was going to have to keep searching.