Still Life and Death Read online

  Rosa rested her hands on the table near Savanna, keeping her voice at a whisper despite them being the only ones here. “Anthony Kent was freaking out. I was in line right behind him, so when he got called to the window, I couldn’t help overhearing. The teller was trying to explain something about his investment account. He was arguing, saying she was giving him incorrect information—he kept saying the money was his whole retirement and their daughter’s tuition. He was really upset. He insisted she re-enter his name and account number three different times, but I think she must’ve done it right all along, because he just got angrier and angrier.”

  Savanna’s eyes were wide. “Oh my gosh.” She tried to imagine Libby’s husband angry and couldn’t. She’d never seen him upset or ruffled. Granted, she’d never seen much of him at all, other than at Libby’s when he’d come in to handle the flower shop’s books. He was always pleasant.

  Rosa looked up along with Savanna as a handful of teachers came through the door, chatting quietly. Tricia Williams, the teacher Savanna had hoped to dodge, wasn’t among them, thank goodness. The teachers dispersed, two toward an empty table and the other three heading over to the coffee pot and reminding Savanna she still hadn’t gotten her coffee.

  She leaned forward, keeping her voice low too now. “What happened with Anthony?”

  “They ended up calling him into the finance manager’s office.”

  Pretty much everyone banked at the same place in Carson. Anthony must’ve been making quite a scene for the bank to pull him into the office.

  “Mr. Fivell shut the door, and that was it. I wish I knew what the outcome was. If the bank messed up the Kents’ investment accounts, we should all be told. I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

  “Good point. Well.” Savanna sat back. “Maybe the bank made an error and they’ll correct it.”

  “But what if they didn’t? If Anthony and Libby lost their investments? George says domestic disputes turn ugly all the time. What if Anthony...” Rosa stared at Savanna with wide eyes, unwilling to say it. “You know.”

  It was a huge leap to murder from a possibly insignificant snippet of an interaction, obviously filtered through Rosa’s imagination. “I don’t know.” Savanna shook her head. “I can’t picture him doing anything crazy.”

  “Well. I told George about it. He’s going to look into it.” Rosa raised her eyebrows.

  “I’m sure he and Detective Jordan will get to the bottom of it.” Savanna stood. “I have to grab some coffee before it’s gone. Good luck with those thank-you notes.”

  Savanna was on her way out with a delicious, steaming cup of French vanilla-flavored coffee when Missy Vonkowski, a fourth grade teacher, stopped her by the door.

  “I wondered if you’ve heard any news yet?” Missy asked, keeping her voice low. About what happened at Libby’s Blooms.”

  “I, uh...No. Nothing.” Missy had barely said a word to her in nearly two years of teaching here. “Have you?”

  The woman looked confused. “No, but you work there, don’t you? My sister said you called and canceled her painting class until further notice.”

  “Jodie?” Savanna had been right to assume the Vonkowskis were related. She’d called each of her students yesterday to let them know the still life class was on hold for now.

  “Right, yes,” Missy said. “Jodie is thinking the shop might go under without Libby. I guess the husband has a black thumb—can’t grow a thing, and that daughter’s a whole other story. Anyway. My sister wondered what’s going on and whether anyone is even taking care of the plants.”

  Put off by Missy’s negative comments, Savanna took a swallow of her coffee. She hadn’t been able to speak with Jodie yesterday—she’d had to leave a voicemail. “I’m not sure. I don’t work there; Libby was just letting me host a class. I’d guess her family is probably working out what to do with the shop. I’m sure they’re managing the plants.”

  “Right, right. I’ll let my sister know you don’t know anything.”

  Back in her classroom, Savanna spent the last few minutes of her prep hour sorting and unpacking everything she’d just heard. She sipped her coffee at her desk and stared straight ahead at the wall of her students’ still life paintings. She really needed to talk to Uncle Max.

  Chapter Six

  Tuesday after school, Savanna turned onto Wild Goose Lane from Sand Crane Way. Within walking distance of the Main Street shops, but set far enough apart to avoid tourist traffic, the luxurious townhome, Uncle Freddie had said, had called out to him when he and Max spent an afternoon driving by properties last summer. She wished Sydney was with her. Her sister had left her a message just before the end of the school day, saying the shop was busy and she couldn’t make it. Savanna had called her back the moment her students had gone, but it had gone straight to voicemail. Something about the message seemed stilted, not like Sydney.

  Savanna had worn her navy polka dot dress today with a cropped red cardigan and red ballet flats, and the full skirt swished around the backs of her knees as she climbed the steps to her uncles’ front door. Their wide porch was a lush oasis of oversized hydrangea-filled planters, a bench swing hanging to one side of the front door, and inviting wicker furniture with plush floral cushions on the other. She rang the doorbell.

  Once in the kitchen, Savanna sat at the island with Uncle Max and traced patterns in the granite countertop with a fingertip. Her uncles’ adorable Welsh Corgi, Lady Bella, was curled up at Savanna’s feet under the island. The space was open and elegant, comprised of varying grays with slate-blue accents, with rectangular clear-glass pendant lighting overhead. Max placed a tray with tea and lemon tarts between them, passing her a crystal sugar bowl with the tiniest spoon she’d ever seen.

  “Is Uncle Freddie still at work?”

  Max checked the time on the stove. “He’s likely on his way home now. It’s a bit of a drive, but he’s like a child with a new toy with the Prius he bought. He hasn’t complained at all about the commute. I think he enjoys being behind a steering wheel every day.”

  “I’m sure he does.” Her uncles had lived in Chicago since Ellie was young. They’d primarily used public transportation and had gotten by with just an old Cadillac for occasional excursions until the move to Carson. “When is Ellie finished for the semester?”

  “She’s nearly done; exams start next week. She’s coming home Friday so she can focus and get studying done this weekend. Freddie and I promised to leave her alone except for meals.”

  “I remember those days. She told me her roommates are a little wild; I’m sure she’ll get caught up here. Do you think she’ll make it for Sunday dinner?”

  “Absolutely. She misses you—your sisters as well, but she’s really missed you since you left Chicago. I think she’s pleased to be close to your family again.”

  Savanna was a full thirteen years older than her cousin, but during the decade she’d spent in Chicago, they’d grown close. She’d regularly visited her uncles’ penthouse apartment, and Ellie loved musicals as much as Savanna did. They’d probably seen over a dozen through the years, the last of which was Hamilton on its closing night in the city. “I can’t wait to see her. It’ll be so great to have her in Carson this summer.”

  “Now,” he said, setting his teacup back in the saucer. “I have a feeling you’re not here to talk about cars. What’s on your mind, love?”

  “Have you heard anything at all from Detective Jordan yet? Or from Anthony Kent?”

  “No word from the good detective, but Libby’s husband phoned yesterday. He plans to reopen as soon as he’s given the green light, but he came right out and told me he’s got no skills to speak of. So, I think it’s up to me to keep it all alive and thriving.”

  Savanna raised her eyebrows. “He told you he expects that? That’s a lot! Does he mean longer hours to cover the added responsibility? What about a raise?”
/>   “Oh no, I couldn’t go into all of that with him. He’s just lost his wife.”

  “You’re right, but you do need to clarify. Were you planning on making this a full-time job? Promise you’ll talk to him, okay?”

  “I promise. No worries.”

  “I know you walked into a terrible scene Saturday morning,” Savanna said. She hated what she was about to ask, but it was important. “Would you mind giving me kind of a recap of what happened? A couple things aren’t adding up for me.”

  “Really? I don’t mind. Freddie was asking me about it last night. I slept better after we talked. I’ve not been sleeping well since it happened.”

  She squeezed his arm on the countertop. “I’m sorry. Sydney hasn’t, either. She misses Libby.”

  He frowned. “Poor thing. I’m sure this is awful for her. All right, so your mother and I met at the diner for breakfast at seven that morning. I know it sounds like an ungodly hour for some, but I learned years ago that she and I are usually the first ones awake.”

  Savanna nodded. “Very true. She’s never needed a lot of sleep.”

  “Opposite of her brother,” Max said, grinning. “Your Uncle Freddie could sleep through a tornado; he’s a bear if he doesn’t get his full eight hours. But I’m getting off track, aren’t I? Charlotte and I parted ways outside the diner, and I walked the block and a half to Libby’s. She likes me to arrive at eight, to have things ready for customers by nine. I let myself in—”

  “Wait, through the back or front door?”

  “Back. Always.”

  “And it was locked?”

  “Always. Even when Libby’s arrived first. She’s careful. She was.” He paused, the corners of his mouth drawn down. “She was a sweetheart, and a smart businesswoman. All right,” he said, giving Savanna’s hand a pat. “I’m fine. I knew Libby was there already because the lights were on and her sweater was on the coat rack. I called out for her, but not getting a reply, deduced she must be in the greenhouse. I walked through, turned on the office computer, put the drawer in the register. I went about my routine, providing care to the plants, and then headed up to the greenhouse.”

  “What time was that?”

  “Close to eight-thirty, I know,” he said, “because I passed the front window at Libby’s and saw you and Skylar going into Fancy Tails with the pram. Your arms were full of coffees and treats. I’ve got to tell you, love, you’ve no idea how it warms my heart to see you three together. You young ladies have this way about you, thick as thieves, same as when you were girls. Never underestimate how fortunate you are.” Uncle Max’s gaze bored into hers, his eyes shining.

  She took his hand in both of hers, her heart swelling in her chest. She loved him for noticing their close bond and mentioning it. “We don’t, I promise.”

  “Good. So, I went through to the stairwell—”

  “I’m so sorry,” she interrupted again. “But you’d told Detective Jordan that door was locked too, right? You and Libby kept it locked on either side, even when she left her shop to go up to the greenhouse?”

  He shook his head. “Oh yes, always. You know that stairway is used by several of us in the building—Miss Priscilla’s, the yoga studio, anyone working at the flower shop, and the upstairs tenants too. She instructed me on my first day to keep our access door locked. It has a key deadbolt on both sides, so you can lock it after going through. Never know who might try to come into the flower shop that way, I suppose, though I know this is a safe little town.”

  “Okay, thank you for clarifying. So Libby must’ve come through the back entrance to the shop before you, locked that door after she entered, turned on the lights, and then used the access door to the building stairway, locking that after she went through, and went up to the greenhouse.”

  “You have it. Now, mind you, the door to the roof is always unlocked. I’m not sure why, but maybe it’s a fire safety measure or the like. I used the access door to the stairs and went up to the roof and saw Libby before I even took two steps. I rushed over and tried to rouse her, but I think I already knew it was bad. There was so much blood. I called the emergency line, and they came straight away, but it was too late.” He stopped abruptly and took a deep breath.

  Savanna hadn’t let go of his hand. “I don’t know if you would’ve noticed, but did anything else that seemed...off? Out of place?”

  He was quiet, thinking. “No. Nothing.”

  “Friday night, when I held my class, Libby was off working in the far corner of the greenhouse. You said something about a secret project, remember?”

  “Oh, yes.” He chuckled, relief crossing his features as they moved onto an easier topic. “Libby was cultivating an extinct flower.”

  Savanna’s eyes widened. “What? How?”

  “Now that is a good question. She never shared that with me. But she’d hoped to enter it into the upcoming Flower and Garden Show. It’s called a Cry Violet. It’s thought to have been completely extinct for the last fifty years or more.”

  “Wow! That’s incredible.”

  “Does any of this help at all? Did something spark the need for the play by play?”

  “There are just things nagging at me. Like, why would someone even want to hurt Libby? How did they get to her? It couldn’t have been through the flower shop, since everything was all locked up when you arrived. And why did Libby’s husband come in through the front door that morning? Why park out front, on Main Street? Unless he wanted everyone to see that he’d just gotten there?”

  Uncle Max frowned. “I’m sure there’s a good explanation.”

  Savanna sighed. “There are other things. The gossip is wild in the teachers’ lounge. Det—” She cut herself off. She shouldn’t reveal to her uncle that a police detective’s wife had been speculating, possibly with tidbits of sensitive information. But maybe she should chat with Detective Jordan about that? She met Uncle Max’s gaze and started over. “A teacher said she overheard Libby’s husband at the bank, freaking out because there was some problem with his investment account. And then another teacher has a sister who’s in my still life class, and it sounds like she’s super curious about the flower shop and what’s going to happen with the plants. Plus she sounded kind of mean about Rachel.” She sat back, palms flat on the granite countertop. She hadn’t realized she was keeping all those details filed away in her head until now, when she’d just spilled them all out in Max and Freddie’s kitchen.

  Uncle Max poured them each more tea. He lifted his small teacup to his lips and sipped. “Well. Rachel is a lovely girl. You could have a chat with her and see for yourself. So, there’s that. I’ve no idea about the Kent’s finances, so I can’t help you there, I’m sorry. And who was this teacher who’s interested in the fate of the shop?”

  “Oh, no, it’s a teacher’s sister—Jodie Vonkowski. The teacher—Missy—said some unkind things about Anthony too. That whole conversation was weird.”

  “Jodie Vonkowski is the treasurer for Carson’s Horticulture Society.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Apparently, it’s a gardening club that’s been around for years. Members use Libby’s Blooms for seedlings and plant nutrients, mostly. Jodie told us the club likes the brand Libby carries better than the ones at Carson Greenery down Route 58—we’re also local and more convenient.”

  “Fascinating,” Savanna said, shaking her head. “I had no idea we have a garden club. And Jodie is—” She stopped and stared at Max.

  He raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”

  “Libby’s secret flower. Was it taken? Stolen?”

  “What? No, that’s preposterous.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Uncle Max smoothed his silver-streaked dark hair and adjusted his tie. “No. I’m not sure,” he mused. “Oh! But yes, the Cry Violet must be fine. Rachel knew her mother’s intention to enter it into the Flower
and Garden Show in Grand Rapids. I’m positive she’s been caring for it these last few days. If it had gone missing, she’d have immediately raised an alarm with your detective. It must be fine.”

  Savanna bit her lip. “We need to make sure. I wish there was a way.”

  “I expect to hear about my own status very soon. Detective Jordan assured Freddie he’d verify my alibi today. I’d think, as long as I’m clear, I might be allowed in to check on the violet.”

  She nodded. “Yes, okay. And if not, I’ll find Rachel and talk to her.”

  Uncle Freddie was getting out of his car as Savanna left Uncle Max. She met him halfway up the wide brick walkway and gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. Lady Bella trotted in circles around Uncle Freddie’s legs, excitedly huffing and whining, until he bent down and petted her.

  “You’re not staying for dinner?” He had a briefcase in one hand, his suit jacket slung over his shoulder. It was after six; he’d probably been in Lansing since eight o’clock this morning, and he looked invigorated rather than tired. “I just won the largest contract that office has seen this decade.” He looked past her to a proud Uncle Max standing on the porch, and then returned his gaze to Savanna. “We’re celebrating. Join us?”

  “The champagne’s chilled,” Max said, smiling. “We always keep a bottle in the fridge. Just in case.”

  “I should go. I’ve got projects to grade and an early staff meeting in the morning. But that’s amazing. Congratulations, Uncle Freddie!”

  Her uncles stood on their porch, Max with his arm around Freddie’s waist, the two of them already deep in conversation as she pulled out of the driveway. She honked briefly, and they both waved.

  Savanna called Sydney on the way home.

  Her sister answered in a breathless rush. “Hey Savvy, I can’t talk, I’m sorry. can I call you later?”

  “Sure, no problem. Are you— I just wanted to make sure you’re all right. Doesn’t sound like things have slowed down there.”

  “Not yet. I’m okay. I’m not, but y’know. I will be eventually.”