Chapter Twelve Bree #2
“Hi, Mandell,” Brad said and smiled warmly.
“We won’t keep you long. I just need to ask you a few questions about your job.
How big is your company?” The man’s eyes widened, but he didn’t answer.
It was obvious he was nervous. “Look, what I really want to know is do you ever work with international plants? Moss, to be more specific?” Again, the man simply swallowed and looked helplessly toward Father Mark.
“It’s all right, Mandell. You can talk to them,” he gently said to the stricken man. “They’re friends of mine. They just want to talk.”
Still no response, so Brad reached into his breast pocket for his notepad.
“All right, look, Mandell, I don’t care what’s going on with your company or if you have papers to work here legally.
Right now, all I’m looking for is a specific type of moss called”—he looked at his pad—“butterfly root moss. I’ve checked all the nurseries in town but can’t find anywhere that sells it, so now we’re checking with wholesalers and landscapers.
I just wondered if you might be able to point us in the right direction. I need to know where you could buy it.”
The man glanced at me, and I gave him a nod to show it was okay. He licked his lips, then spoke. “That can be bad stuff if you don’t use it right. I don’t use it.”
“That’s okay. I get that,” Brad reassured him. “Do you know anyone who does?”
“No, but I know that Mano’s Supply carries all kinds of strange things like that. Maybe check there.” He lowered his head, and Brad didn’t push it any further.
“Thank you.”
We headed back inside, and Father Mark looked at me carefully. I shifted my weight and wished Brad would say it was time to go.
“I see you, Bree, and all that you carry inside,” Father Mark said.
“I’m sorry that you see that, Father.” I looked away from him and studied the inside of the lovely old church where I had once been so comfortable.
After everything happened, I was constantly talked about.
I’d heard the whispers in school from my peers, but it was the church that was the worst. Church meant well-meaning adults trying to get me to talk about it.
Parents, aunts, uncles, even old biddies who had nothing better to do than wonder about what it was like to see those women, face their killer, how I felt.
My mom would ask them to please stop, and every so often, Dad would say something, but none of it helped.
What happened that day at the river had made me an object of curiosity.
I felt like an outcast. Then there was Brad, who’d just sit there with Sherry and her family.
He didn’t seem affected by all the attention—at least I never saw it.
“If you plan on staying in town, which I hope you do, come back and walk tall through those doors.” He pointed to the big wooden doors. “Show people you aren’t that child anymore. You are a confident woman, and you’re here for your future and for him.” He pointed heavenward.
“I’ll think about it.” I looked at Brad for help, and thankfully he got the hint.
Brad pulled out his phone and read something off the screen. “Sorry, Father, we have to go. Thank you so much for your time, and I’ll see you Sunday.”
“Happy to be of service.” He looked over at me. “If Sundays don’t work for you, Bree, I’m here seven days a week.” He smiled and winked.
I forced a smile and followed Brad back to his car. Once out of hearing range, I glared at him. “Thanks for that.”
“Anytime.” He slipped in behind the wheel, and I cursed before I joined him.
I waited until we were on the road. “All right, so how far is Mano’s Supply anyway?”
“South end of town.” He looked at me like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. That was the third time he’d done that since we’d left the station. I wanted to ask, but at the same time I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was on his mind. It was probably more questions about my sanity.
I kept my eyes locked on the horizon as we drove and left him to his thoughts. When his phone rang loudly, I jumped. His finger hovered over the decline button on the dash, then he seemed to change his mind and hit answer.
“Hey, how’s your day going?” Sherry’s high-pitched voice was like a needle to the eye. I kept my gaze locked on the horizon.
“Bree and I are actually just about to get out and question someone.” Brad tried to sound normal, but I knew him well enough to know he was uncomfortable, by the way his hands flexed on the wheel.
“Oh, you’re with Bree?”
“Yes, I’m at work.”
“Oh, hi, Bree. I hope you’re feeling better.”
“What do you want, Sherry?” Brad’s voice was cold.
“I was just calling because I was going through one of the boxes that I took from the house and realized it was your old hockey stuff.” She blew out an exaggerated loud breath. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted it or if I should burn it.” She made a yeech sound and laughed as if she’d made a joke.
Brad shook his head and quietly cursed.
“Sorry, Bradley, but you know the smell is the one thing that I can’t get past.”
“Leave it on the porch, and I’ll come by and get it later.”
“Or I can drop it off.” I rolled my eyes at Brad. It was so obvious she’d taken the box on purpose.
“No. I’ll come by later.” Brad ended the call by jabbing the button hard.
I was relieved when Brad parked, and the moment he stopped outside the store, I hopped out and took a big deep breath and righted my head.
“Bree.” Brad looked at me over the roof of the car. “I know she went at you in the ambulance. I talked to Kelly.”
“You know what?” I plastered on a smile. “I have a really good feeling about this interview. Let’s go see if my gut’s right.” I turned on my heel but heard him sigh as he slammed the door and followed.
“Bree.” I ignored him and headed inside, where I spotted a man behind the counter. “Bree, please.”
“Hi there.” The man smiled at me. “What can I do for you today?”
I looked around as I approached him, Brad right on my heels.
“I was told that you’re the man to come to if I needed some international greenery.
” His face brightened at the thought of a sale.
Brad leaned forward, but I stopped him from showing his badge.
He didn’t question me—he just stepped back.
This was, after all, what Cap had brought me in to do.
By the look of this man, I felt he’d get spooked if he smelled law enforcement.
“You a cop?” he asked me, suddenly cautious.
“No, are you?” I bantered back with a smile.
“Not the last time I checked.” He grinned, and his gaze shifted over to Brad, who decided he should look around. “You might be a woman, but you have that look.”
“Do I?” I looked down at my outfit and thought I looked more business casual, but okay, I’d take law enforcement too.
“Well, if it helps, by law, if I was a cop, I’d have to disclose that information, so.
” I shrugged. “My uncle’s an officer, though, and I’m a good listener. ” I beamed, and he joined in.
“All right, what kind of plants are you looking for?” He tapped some buttons on his computer, and I leaned over the counter and watched his throat contract. Perfect.
“It’s some kind of moss from the Netherlands. It’s thick and kind of drapey. I believe it has a funny sort of smell to it.” I acted like I was lost on the details. “My sister told me about it, said it was great for keeping the raccoons away.” He looked at me carefully.
“Are you a fan of PETA?”
“You mean the animal rights group?” I played along. “If you’re asking if I’m worried about one of those rodents keeling over, don’t be. They’re like a parasite—they never friggin’ leave.”
He smiled, and I knew I had him. “Great answer.” He clicked away on the keyboard. “I do have some butterfly root moss that shipped in last month. Hmm, yup, looks like I have some left out back.”
“How much do you normally get with each shipment?” I asked casually. “Is there a high demand for it here in Sheffield? I mean, how many raccoons are there?” I laughed.
“No, actually”—he chuckled—“seems it’s become quite popular lately. The last guy who asked me to get it in for him took the first bunch but never came back in for the rest. No skin off my nose—he paid up front. So, you’re in luck.”
“Lucky me.” I grinned as I tried not to show I was excited by what he’d just said.
“Would it be too much to ask for the names of the people who ordered it?” His mouth dipped, and I quickly recovered.
“It’s just such a different plant that maybe I could learn from them how they use it.
God love my sister, but she also suggested setting up beer cans with pennies inside around my property.
With my luck, I’d just have kids knocking them down to swipe them all.
” I laughed and touched his arm and was happy when his smile returned.
“Come on, it’d sure be helpful. Can you tell me? ”
“By law, no.” He looked at my hand, still on his arm, and casually turned the screen a little toward me. “Just give me a moment and I’ll grab what’s left.”
“Thanks.” I waited for him to leave, then focused on the spreadsheet on the screen.
“You can’t do that,” Brad muttered as if it were a knee-jerk reaction. “You don’t have a warrant.”
“Insert Bree.” I grinned.
“Hurry,” Brad warned as he watched the door.
“No.” I tapped away on the search bar. I went for sarcasm as I ran my finger down the list of at least fifteen names. “I plan on taking my sweet time so that he can catch me. John Quinn, Ross Smith, Peter Fredericks, Oscar Moore, Brian Lipton”—then my heart stopped as I came to Timothy Ford.
“Hello, there.” I quietly whistled, and my eyes went to Brad’s.
“What?”
“One sec.” There was a notes section. I quickly clicked on the drop-down menu.