The Accidental Florist jj-16 Read online

  The Accidental Florist

  ( Jane Jeffry - 16 )

  Jill Churchill

  Suburban supersleuth Jane Jeffry and her detective beau Mel VanDyne have finally decided to tie the knot. While Jane's planning the wedding of her dreams — with no overbearing mother-in-law to steamroll the entire event and tell her what to wear — Mel convinces her and her best friend Shelley to take a women's self-defense class. But before Jane and Shelley can learn the karate kicks and mean moves to fight off even the perfect purse-snatcher, their class is cut brutally short. . when two participants are murdered. Between her new writing project, an addition to the house, and battling mothers-in-law, she's got her hands full. But she'll have to make time to help Mel find the killer if she wants to walk happily — and safely — down the aisle.

  Jill Churchill

  The Accidental Florist

  Chapter

  ONE

  J

  ane pulled into her driveway. She'd just driven to Kansas City and back to drop off Katie at a culinary school at a junior college and get her set up in an apartment with two other girls. Jane had made a quick stop at a liquor store to buy a bottle of champagne on the way home.

  She was mixing it with orange juice from the fridge when Shelley knocked at her kitchen door. As Jane opened the door, she said, "You carry the pitcher and I'll bring the glasses. We can sit out on the patio and catch up."

  They settled in with Jane's favorite champagne flutes and Jane said, "The trip was easy and rather pretty. So much is blooming along the highways in late May."

  "You didn't get lost?"

  "Of course we got lost. Several times. But Katie's

  turned out to be a pretty good map reader. I got her settled into a little apartment close to the junior college. She has two very nice roommates who are taking the same classes and it's within walking distance."

  "She'll do well, I know. Is she still hoping to use the experience to apply to the CIA?"

  "Don't call it that!" Jane said with a shudder. "It's the Culinary Institute of America in New York up the Hudson River from the city. And yes, she is. She felt that with the experience of taking summer classes, she'd be better qualified to apply there."

  "But she'll miss her senior prom from high school," Shelley said with a laugh.

  "She will. It will save me from having to attend another dreadful prom night."

  "You've raised good kids," Shelley said, pouring herself a second glass of mimosa.

  "So have you, Shelley. Denise is going to go far and so

  is John. They're both good students and ambitious." "Ambitious to get out of the house, you mean?" "Aren't you anxious for that, too?"

  "Sort of. But I have longer to wait than you do. My John is a year younger than your Todd. And what is Todd doing this summer?"

  "He's looking into colleges on the Internet. He'll only be a junior this fall, but wants to go somewhere where they teach higher mathematics. He's also moved his bed and desk into Mike's room because it faces the street and has better light. He's still working on breaking the code on prime numbers."

  "Prime numbers? I've heard of that. But what are they?" Shelley asked.

  "The ones that aren't divisible by anything. One, five, seven, eleven, thirteen, seventeen, nineteen, twenty-three, and so forth. He has a fancy grid program and put in numbers up to twenty thousand; he left all the ones that can be divided by two in black, and highlighted the ones in red that can't be divided by three, five, seven, and so on."

  "So what's his conclusion?"

  Jane sighed. "He doesn't have one yet. But the higher the numbers the less frequent they are. He's trying them out on all sorts of different grids to see if he can find a pattern. So far he hasn't."

  "He's a dogged kid, isn't he? I remember when he was obsessed with building the biggest thing possible with Legos."

  "But, Shelley, that cost me the earth and created huge storage problems. This costs me nothing and if he ever finds out the secret to prime numbers, he'll become rich and famous,"Jane said with her fingers crossed and wearing a big grin.

  "So Katie's gone, Todd's obsessed, and Mike's in graduate school in Indiana for the summer. It must be a lot quieter at your house. I envy you."

  "Thank you. I can't remember you ever saying that," Jane said, still smiling. "I'm also a better driver than you, but you'd never admit that."

  "You're just a slower driver," Shelley said, watching Jane's two now-elderly cats, Max and Meow, heading for

  the field behind their two houses. "Do they ever catch anything back there anymore?"

  "Not anymore. And you notice they clawed their way over the fence instead of bounding over it like jackrabbits the way they used to."

  Shelley laughed. "Wouldn't we both do that if we were as old as they are in cat years?"

  Jane had just taken a sip of her drink and had almost snorted it out her nose. "I hope we'd have a little more dignity than the cats though," she said when she quit coughing.

  Jane poured herself a second mimosa. The goblets were tall but narrow and one wasn't enough. Besides, the pitcher would lose its bubbles if any were left over.

  "We have to finish this pitcher," Jane said. "It won't keep fuzzy and tickle our noses."

  "Might as well. Neither of us are going anywhere tonight, are we?"

  By dusk, when the cats climbed back over the fence, Meow limping a little, both Jane and Shelley were tiddly. Jane stood up to call the cats in and almost lost her balance.

  "Jane, you're drunk."

  "No, I'm not. I drove all day long and then sat out in the setting sun drinking diluted champagne. That's all. Let's see how you find your own way home."

  "I just live next door, Jane," Shelley said, standing and waving her arm, nearly tumbling over her chair.

  "Coffee," Shelley pleaded. "Strong coffee. I'm not sure I can get home without crawling across both our driveways."

  Holding on to each other, with the cats wreathing around their ankles, they made their way to Jane's kitchen. "I have to feed the cats first or they won't leave us alone."

  Jane spilled a third of the cat food on the floor. She looked down and giggled. "They'll eat it anyway."

  Shelley had also spilled some of the coffee mix on the counter. They sat down at the kitchen table, listening to the cats crunching their food and smelling the coffee brewing. Every now and then, one or the other of them laughed softly at nothing.

  "Can you pour the coffee or should I?" Jane asked.

  "First one who can stagger across the room will."

  Shelley won because Jane skidded on some of the hard little cat food pellets. They made their way carefully to the living room, carrying the cups that were only half full so they wouldn't spill, and sipping while watching Paula Deen cooking a pork roast on the Food Network.

  In two minutes, Jane burped slightly and said, "Let's watch something else that's not about food. I'm still a little dizzy and food doesn't sound good."

  They watched Curb Appeal instead. It was an episode Jane had seen at least twice before, but she didn't care.

  Shelley finally got up when the show was finished and said, "I have to go home and take a little nap."

  Jane went to her kitchen door to watch her leave. Both

  of their cars were in the adjoining driveways. Shelley was walking well, but lightly touching the hoods to make sure of her footing. When she reached her own kitchen door, she made a victory sign to Jane and went inside.

  Jane also decided a nap was a good idea in spite of it being only seven in the evening. She went to the stairs to her bedroom and paused for a moment. She could crawl up them safely, but Todd might come out in the hallway and realize she was still a little tipsy. S
o she clung to the stair rail and called out to Todd when she got to the top landing, "I'm just back from a long drive and I need a short nap."

  There was no reply. The door to his room — Mike's old room — was closed.

  Jane didn't wake until morning, still in the clothes she'd worn the day before. At least she didn't have a hangover. In fact, a good night of deep sleep had cheered her up considerably. She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth before showering and was horrified at the state of her hair. She looked as if she'd been in close contact with a tornado overnight. A really punk-looking hairdo.

  Her first published book about Priscilla was coming out in about two weeks. She'd been surprised at what a slow process publishing was. First her agent had a few minor corrections to suggest. Jane made them. Then the editor had a few more to be made. Then the copy editor went at it hammer and tongs. When all that had been done, there were requests for input on the cover copy and blurbs. And then her editor faxed copies of the cover andplacement of her name. By that time nearly a year had passed and Jane had finished the next one, except for letting it sit and stew before rereading the final draft. Good thing they had a picture of her looking a whole lot better than she did this morning.

  Chapter

  TWO

  T

  he next morning, when Jane went out for the newspaper, Shelley was coming inside with hers. They made no mention of the day before. Shelley looked as chipper and normal as Jane did now that Jane had fixed her hair. The cats had indeed eaten all the spilled cat food and Jane had cleaned up the floor. "I have coffee brewing. I found a new brand at a Starbucks in Kansas. A hint of hazelnut flavoring, I think. But not saying so on the container. Want to try it out with me?"

  "Sure," Shelley said, pitching her own newspaper on her kitchen porch. "Isn't it odd that all the houses on this block were constructed with the kitchen in the front of the house?"

  "I like it that way," Jane said. "I can sit at the kitchen table and see what's going on along the street."

  "So do I," Shelley agreed. "This coffee is good. I wonder if our own Starbucks carries it as well?"

  "I've always just had their mocha when I buy it there. We'll have to go look and see next time we stop by."

  "Are you ever going to marry Mel?" Shelley asked.

  Jane gawked at her. "Surprisingly, I've been thinking a lot about it. You know he tried to give me an engagement ring that awful Christmas that his furnace died, and he and his dreadful mother, Addie, stayed here. I said I'd keep it for later. But he decided I might lose it and he took it back and put it in his bank lockbox."

  "Do you suppose he still has it? After all, you and he have had a very long, happy relationship and now that you're going to have only one child at home most of the time, you should consider it."

  "Do I have to propose to him?" Jane asked with a glint in her eye.

  "Why not? You're an independent woman. Not a wimp. The worst that could happen is that he'd turn down the offer. And you know he wouldn't."

  "I'm fairly sure you're right. I'd like for him to live with me in this house. It would mean giving up several closets and cleaning out the other half of the garage for his precious MG."

  "When did you become so practical?" Shelley asked. "All these years hanging out with you," Jane replied.

  "You're the most sensible, practical woman I know. Except for your give-'em-hell driving habits."

  "You'll note, I hope, that I've never been in an accident," Shelley claimed.

  "But other people you terrified have ended up in ditches, I'd bet."

  "I never look back," Shelley said proudly.

  Jane was quiet for a few minutes and then said, "I'm going to have to plan my proposal to Mel. I don't think, `You wanna get married, big guy?' is quite appropriate."

  "Ask first if he kept the ring he tried to give you. Would that be a way to start a proposal?"

  "Good idea. Thanks."

  As it happened, Mel called Jane later in the day and said, "Want to go to your favorite pricey restaurant tonight? I have something to tell you about."

  He sounded so serious that Jane was scared. Was he getting ready to dump her just as she was about to propose marriage?

  "Of course I'd like that," she said, trying to make it sound as if she meant it.

  "You sound wary," Mel said. "It's not a bad thing. Just something I suggest you and Shelley might want to do."

  Jane sat down at the kitchen table, thinking that he'd come to understand her a little bit too well. "I can't wait to hear what it is. What time should I be ready?"

  "I've already made reservations for seven. Is that okay?"

  "It's fine. I'll leave a sandwich and chips for Todd." "Can't he do that himself?" Mel asked, sounding sincerely confused.

  "Sure he could. But I'm a mom."

  Mel was quiet but relaxed as they drove to the restaurant. They always had a private booth where they couldn't be overheard. The waiter handed them the poster-sized menus, asked if they wanted a drink while they studied the menu, and disappeared to get each of them a glass of the house merlot.

  They both knew what they wanted. Jane chose a green salad and chicken scalloppine. Mel wanted a salad and the largest filet mignon on the menu. They might choose desserts later.

  The waiter returned with the restaurant's signature rye bread rolls and butter along with their drinks, took their orders, and disappeared.

  "What is it you wanted to tell me about?" Jane asked when she'd finished a roll and tasted her drink.

  "It's about your and Shelley's safety."

  "I don't understand. Is this police work? Are we in some kind of danger we don't know about?"

  "In a way. But it's not a police secret. Women are attacked far more often than men. Men tend to fight back, and I don't think either of you would have the strength to do so. There is this tough old woman who teaches women how to better protect themselves. I thought

  it would be useful to you and ease my mind about your welfare."

  "But Shelley and I don't go bar hopping at night. We know better than that."

  "That's not the point. And crimes against women don't always happen at night anyway."

  "Is it expensive to take these classes?"

  "No, they're almost free. You only pay a couple bucks for the rental of the meeting hall."

  "When do they start?"

  "Next Monday. Two a week for two weeks. And further lessons in self-defense if it interests you two." He reached into a pocket inside his suit coat and handed her a sheet of paper. "This is all the information. It would really ease my mind if you knew more about protecting yourselves when you're out and about."

  "I'll show this to Shelley,"Jane said, perusing the items on the list. "It meets during the day, I'm glad to say."

  "She does night classes, too. For women who can't get off work in the daytime. I'm glad you're considering this."

  "I'm sure it will be interesting to both of us,"Jane said. She folded the paper and tucked it into her purse. She'd noticed that the waiter was hovering.

  Stuffed to the brim with rolls, salad, and dinner, they strolled out and got into Mel's car. As he approached her house, Jane said, "Could we stop for a few minutes at that little park down the block before you drop me off?"

  He glanced at her, wondering why she wanted to do this, but did as she asked. When he turned the ignitionoff, Jane said, "Do you just happen to have kept that engagement ring you tried to give me long ago?" Mel grinned. "I did. Do you want it back?"

  "Yes. It's time. Past time, in fact."

  "It's in my safety-deposit box. I'll bring it over tomorrow. Janey, are you sure you want it?"

  She tried to hug him, but it's hard to do in a little MG. "I'm absolutely sure I do."

  Mel stepped out of the car, came around, and gave Jane his hand. "Get out of there right now. I want to kiss you without either of us getting hurt trying it in the car."

  Jane was very late getting home. She could see from outside that Todd's room was
dark. She all but danced up the stairs.

  The next morning Mel dropped in on his way to work. He didn't look quite as happy as he should have.

  "What's wrong? Has the ring gone missing?" Jane asked.

  "No, it's my mother."

  "She's missing?" Jane asked.

  "I wish she were. I made the mistake of calling her to tell her the good news that we're getting married…"

  "She didn't take it well, I guess,"Jane said, not the least bit surprised.

  "It's not exactly that. It's…"

  "Mel, spit it out and get it over with. She's refusing to come?"

  "Far from it," he said. "Let me put the ring on your finger and we'll sit out on your patio and talk about it."

  They sat close together and Mel reluctantly explained. "See, I'm her only son."

  "I know that."

  "But she says your parents have two daughters."

  "That's true. So what is the problem with it?" She was looking at the ring on her finger, smiling, and thinking she'd forgotten how beautiful it was. "Your mother also has two daughters. She mentioned them that Christmas she stayed at my house."

  "It's this. I'll just hit you with it. And you can smack me upside the head for saying it. My mother will do the rehearsal dinner."

  "That's what she's supposed to do."

  "She wants to do the whole wedding as well." Mel bent his head, waiting for her reaction.

  Jane laughed like a loon. "Do you think this is a surprise to me? I've met your mother, remember. It's just what I'd expect her to do. Roll over everybody with a tank."