CHAPTER EIGHT
They reached Georgetown and found the outside of Petals and Stems blocked by emergency vehicles. Police cars lined both sides of the street. Fire trucks and hazmat vans created a perimeter around a small storefront with “Petals she’s older and is having some issues breathing, but she’s going to be fine. Seems she didn’t get much of it in her.”
Miles looked to one of the fire fighters and said, “Can you spare two oxygen masks?”
“Sure. Come on.” He led them over to the fire engine and opened up a compartment near the back, just beneath the thick coil of hose. He offered them each a mask, a standard sort that was a bit less impressive than the ones Miles sometimes used back at the lab, but more than adequate.
With the masks secured and the filters doing their job, Miles and Vic prepared to enter Petals & Stems. The breathing apparatus felt bulky and uncomfortable, but Miles knew it would be deadly to go inside without it. Miles wasn't taking any chances with fluorine gas exposure.
They pushed through the front door into a beautiful flower shop.
Classical music was playing, filling the space at a low volume.
Miles thought the current piece was Chopin.
Display cases held arrangements in various stages of completion.
Potted plants lined wooden shelves. Hand-painted signs announced daily specials in careful script.
Everything suggested a business owner who took pride in creating beauty for her customers.
They stepped behind the counter, to an employee-only space beyond.
The back room told a different story. Janet Reilly's body lay collapsed on the concrete floor, surrounded by scattered flowers and broken glass.
White lilies were strewn across the workspace, their petals mixing with baby's breath and ribbon scraps.
A shattered crystal vase had spread water and glass fragments in a wide circle around her still form.
From the looks of it, Janet had been working alone, preparing arrangements when the gas had struck her.
He studied the scattered supplies and overturned buckets.
Janet had clearly tried to escape as the gas overwhelmed her respiratory system.
Her final moments had been spent crawling across the floor she'd probably swept clean that morning, reaching desperately toward a front door that might as well have been miles away.
“The dispersal system should be in the ventilation,” Miles said, pointing toward a grate mounted high on the back wall. “Help me get a closer look.”
They both snapped on latex gloves and moved a small worktable beneath the vent, careful not to disturb the scene too much.
Miles climbed up carefully. The oxygen mask made his movements awkward, but he could see immediately that the cover had been tampered with.
Screws were loose and the metal frame didn't sit flush against the wall.
“Do you have a dime or something?” he asked.
Vic shook her head but then grabbed a small set of pruning scissors from Janet’s table. “Will this do?”
“Yeah, that should be okay.”
He took the scissors and spread the blades wide, using one of them to loosen the screws.
He inserted the edge of the point into the screw’s seam and though it was clunky, it worked.
He worked carefully to remove the vent cover completely, revealing the ductwork beyond.
Just as he'd expected, the killer had left behind evidence of their sophisticated dispersal system.
There was no way to attack in this manner and not leave something behind.
The mechanical components were similar to those found at Roosevelt Elementary. There was a timer-controlled valve, a pressurized container, and remote activation capability. “Same set up from what I can tell,” Miles said.
“Can you get it out?” Vic asked.
“Yeah, and…wait, there’s something else here.” He reached deeper into the ductwork and his gloved fingers touched paper. He carefully extracted several folded pages and showed them to Vic.
He stepped down from the table and placed the papers carefully on Janet’s worktable. They’d need to bag it up just like the other note, but for now, they read it together.
“Janet Reilly presented herself as someone who brought natural beauty into the world, but her business was built on chemical contamination of innocent plant life. Synthetic fertilizers, artificial preservatives, chemical dyes used to enhance flower colors - all tools of molecular corruption that poison the natural order.”
Miles felt his stomach clench as he read further.
The manifesto detailed Janet's alleged crimes against chemical purity.
Her use of commercial flower food. Her practice of dyeing white flowers to create unnatural colors.
Her reliance on refrigeration and chemical preservatives to extend the life of cut flowers.
“The fluorine purification of Janet Reilly removes another vector of chemical contamination from our community. Her death cleanses the molecular corruption she spread through her synthetic manipulation of natural beauty. Others will follow until the chemical contamination of innocent society has been eliminated.”
“This person is completely insane,” Vic said, reading over his shoulder. “They're targeting people for using completely normal products in ways that have nothing to do with harming anyone.”
They documented the crime scene thoroughly, photographing Janet's body and the scattered flowers, collecting samples from the dispersal device, bagging the letter for analysis.
As they worked, Stoller and another cop came in both donning masks.
“The ME is on the way,” Stoller said. “You guys good here, or do you need more time?”
Before either Miles or Vic answered, Vic looked through the front window and could see the back corner of the ambulance, still parked by the fire engine.
Miles knew they needed to speak to the customer who had found Janet…
and doing that now before the paramedics transported her to the hospital would make things much easier.
“I think we’re good for now,” Miles said, Vic nodded in agreement and let Stoller and the other cop have the floor.
They left the flower shop and Miles took several strides away from the shop before removing his oxygen mask.
Vic followed suit and they then made their way to the ambulance.
There, an elderly woman sat on a gurney receiving oxygen treatment.
She looked pale and shaken, but alert enough to notice them when they came to the back of the vehicle.
“I'm sorry to bother you,” Vic said gently, showing her badge. “I'm Agent Stone with the FBI, and this is Dr. Sterling, a forensics specialist. Can you tell us what happened when you came to the flower shop?”
The woman removed her oxygen mask briefly. “I come here every Tuesday to pick up flowers for our church service. Janet always has them ready... knows exactly what I want.” Her voice was hoarse and strained. “The front door was unlocked, but nobody answered when I called out.”
“Did Janet know you were coming?” Miles asked.
“Yes, like I said… I came every Tuesday. It’s been that way for… oh my, for at least three or four years.”
“Did you notice any unusual smells or sensations when you entered?” Miles asked.
“Oh yes,” she said, coughing a bit and then drawing in a shaky breath.
“It was… sweet but clearly fake. I knew it wasn’t a flower.
Sort of chemical. Reminded me of cleaning products.
Made my throat burn and my eyes water.” The woman coughed and pressed the oxygen mask back to her face for a moment.
“I found Janet in the back room and called 911 immediately.”
“Did you fully enter the back room?” Miles asked.
“Oh, no… no. I saw her even before I stepped into the room. I screamed, I think. And then I ran out of the store. I felt like a coward because I should have checked on her. But I…”
“Don’t think that way,” Vic said. “If you’d done that, you’d be dead now, too.”
“Did you see anyone strange around the shop recently?” Miles asked. “Anyone asking questions about Janet's business or showing unusual interest in the building?”
The woman shook her head weakly. “Janet was well-liked in the neighborhood. Regular customers, church groups, people planning weddings and funerals. I can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt her.”
A paramedic stepped up beside Vic, looking a bit embarrassed. “Sorry… but we should get her to the ER. She’s fine, but she needs proper treatment.
“Of course,” Vic said. Miles and Vic stepped back as the ambulance pulled away, its lights flashing but sirens silent.