The Final Arrangement (13 page)

Read The Final Arrangement Online

Authors: Annie Adams

Tags: #Mystery

I tilted my head and clutched my hands together dramatically, “Is that a crime officer?”  I batted my eyelashes. 

“No, but it sure is a way of repelling people from your life.”

Epic fail on the cutesy routine.

“Maybe I don’t need people in my life.” 

“Oh really?  Well Miss Independent, just a quick question.  Isn’t that van out there your sole source of transportation these days?”

Damn it, he was right.

“Yes.”  I answered quietly.

“Do you happen to have two spare tires for that van?” 

“No.” 

“So it looks to me as if you might need help from a big stupid man right now.”

“Alex…”

“I can call a tow truck for you.”

“Are you serious?  I’m going to have to buy two new tires; I can’t afford a tow too.” 

“I don’t think my spare will fit on your van.  I don’t know how we’re going to get it over there without a tow.”

“I know—I’ll call Danny.  He’ll let me borrow the spare from his delivery van.  I’ll just have to wait for his driver to come down when he’s finished with their deliveries.  Ergh, I can’t believe this is happening.”

Alex put his hands on his hips.  “I’ll give you a ride to Danny’s.  In fact, I might even help you put the spares on if you’re nice to me.”  He winked and smiled a melt-your-heart smile.  Why did he have to be such a cute, big stupid man?

“I’ll go tell Cindy what’s going on.”  I felt as deflated as the tires, but he was right about my needing help with them.

I called Danny and he graciously offered to help even more, but I thanked him and told him that Alex and I would be up soon.  As we drove out of the parking lot I slowly ducked down in my seat, remembering my mother’s spies on every corner.

“Are you feeling okay?”  Alex asked.

“I’m great.  Nothing wrong here.”

“You‘re slumping, are you sure you feel okay?” 

I was too embarrassed to tell him about my mother and her network, so I lied. 

“I just feel kind of funny being in a cop car.  It’s like I’ve been arrested.” 

“The criminals don’t usually ride shotgun, Quince.” 

“Oh yeah, I guess not.”  I sat up a little straighter to appease him, and just made sure I kept my head turned toward him.  I covered the side of my face with my right hand and rested my elbow on the window frame—trying to look casual.

“By the way, they’ve released some information about your friend Derrick.”

“He wasn’t my friend.”

“He wasn’t someone else’s friend too.  But they still don’t know why.  His body was embalmed, and there were no obvious wounds on the body.”

“Is it okay for you to tell me that?”

“No, but since you are the source of all information, I thought you should know.”

“Thanks.”

We pulled into Danny’s back parking lot and after Alex turned off the car we entered through the delivery door.  Danny buzzed around giving directions to his staff.  His short quick steps stood out in direct contrast to the elongated point on his high fashion loafers. They made a clicking sound with every heel strike as he approached.

“Well hello, dear,” Danny said.  He turned is attention to Alex and gave him an obvious once over, “Gee, Officer Krupke, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Danny, this is Alex Cooper.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.  Quincy dear, I’m so sorry for your car trouble.  I’ve had Paul go out and pull the spare tire.”  Paul was his delivery driver.  “He put it inside the back doors of the van.”

“Thanks Danny I’m really racking up the favors.” 

“Don’t you worry about it.” 

“We’ll bring the spare back as soon as we’re done.”  Alex said. 

Alex had already turned to go outside as I said goodbye to Danny.  Seizing his opportunity, Danny placed his hands on his hips over the pristine green and white striped apron covering his Armani long-sleeved shirt.  He mouthed the words “he’s cute” when Alex wasn’t looking.  I gave Danny an exasperated look.  He shrugged and said, “What? It’s true.” 

It was true and I was in absolutely uncharted waters. 

CHAPTER NINE

 

When we finally got both spare tires on the van, Alex followed me in his police cruiser to the tire store.  I pulled into the front lot while he found an open spot around the corner.  I went in and explained what had happened and asked for two of the least expensive tires I could get by on.  I had used this garage before, but it was under new management since the last time I’d been in.  The guy behind the desk proceeded to tell me the new tires would cost three times as much as the tires I knew I needed. 

Just as I had finished mentally constructing the chewing-out of the century, so I could deliver it to this Neanderthal without wavering, I heard the door open and saw the tire guy’s expression change.

“Hello,” he said, all smiles and cheerfulness. 

“Hey how’s it goin’?”  the new customer said behind my shoulder.  “Everything going okay in here, Quince?”  I had been too focused on delivering my speech to notice Alex had come through the door.

“Oh—ha, are you two together?”  The tire guy said. 

“Yeah, don’t mind me.”  Alex replied.

I opened my mouth to deliver the knock-out punch of a verbal assault when the tire guy interrupted.

“You know, I just realized I probably looked at the wrong price on the list.  I misquoted you on that tire.  It can get confusing sometimes, heh.”  His face bloomed into a fuchsia color and beads of sweat appeared at his receding hairline.  He glanced quickly at Alex before pointing to the tires on the wall.  The cheaper price was posted on the tire in question on a giant yellow price tag. 

“That’s okay.” I said.  “I won’t be buying any tires here today.  I’ll take my key back please.  Let’s go, Alex.”

“Wh…how come?  Don’t they have what you need?” 

“No, they definitely don’t.” 

I explained what had happened when we got outside.

“So why did you leave?  He probably would have sold you tires at cost after I got there.  I knew he looked guilty about something when I walked in.”

“I’m not buying tires from a guy who tried to take advantage of me because I’m a woman!  I wouldn’t take them if he gave them to me and put them on for free.  I can’t believe you expect me to just accept that kind of garbage.  Just because you came in wearing your uniform, looking like some superhero dressed like a cop to save the young maiden, doesn’t mean I’m going to support his chauvinistic attitude.”

“Hey, don’t be mad at me because you needed me!  Besides, you caught a break, why not take advantage of it?”

“I didn’t need you!  I was just about to rip the guy apart because I knew what he was up to.  I didn’t need a rescue.”

“You know, I didn’t have to come along.  I could have just responded to the call and been on my way.”

“You’re right about that.  I’m sorry to have been such trouble to you.  It won’t happen again.”

“Quincy…” 

Alex’s cell phone rang before he could finish.  He looked at the number that came up on the screen.  “Great,” he said sarcastically.  “I have to get this.”  He answered the phone.  “He’s where?  You’ve gotta be kidding.  I can’t believe he’d be that stupid.  Okay, I’ll be there in five.”  He hung up and told me he had to leave. 

“Alex, wait.  I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate your help with the tires.  Thank you, really.”

“We’ll talk later.  Will you be all right on your own—I mean with the van and the tires?”

“I’ll be fine.”  I was a big girl, but I didn’t need to overdo it with the “do-it-myself” stuff.  I was grateful to Alex, a little annoyed—maybe—at the knight in shining armor behavior, but that was probably due to my perceptions and not reality.  He was quite chivalrous.  Why should I complain about that?  Was I crazy?  I decided not to answer that question.

I was furious however, at the scam artist salesman, and heaven help the guy at the next tire shop.

###

Nick was fired the next morning.  Now I would be without a driver, but the summer was always a slow season anyway, so I could probably make do for a week until I could find a replacement.  I dreaded the thought of putting out a want ad.  Doing so was akin to announcing free admission to the demolition derby.  The freak-fest starts before you can say, “Start your engines.”

Personal recommendations aren’t that great either.  Nick came highly recommended by one of my customers.  Turns out it was his aunt.  He had been staying in her rental duplex and she was sick of getting stiffed on the rent money.  

For the time being, I would use Allie’s help at the shop.  I would delay thinking about a driver until I absolutely had to. 

With only two orders for the day, I decided my time would be well spent getting back on the trail of the elusive funeral work cash cow.  I decided to pay a visit to the man Derrick’s employee told me about.  She said he had spoken frequently about a big account.  What could be bigger than all of the funeral work in two counties?

Irwin and LaDonna Shaw owned a shop in a small town called Plainville on the outskirts of Ogden.  The majority of residents there worked full-time at the Air Force Base or were farmers who kept horses and other animals on land first tilled by their ancestors.  Plainville was in the beginning stages of the suburban take over that many other small, agriculturally based towns in Utah were facing. 

Farmers died or retired, their land came available, and was bought up to make subdivisions.   Along with the houses came the clash of people moving outside the big town, wanting the suburban lifestyle in a rural community.  New houses were popping up next to century old farms where the new residents would then complain to the city about the smell of cow manure.

Derrick’s manager told me the older man visited the shop frequently, and she had implied he was the one taking over the mortuary account.  The pamphlet I “borrowed” from Derrick’s place had a sticky note on the inside that had the name Irwin written on it with a phone number.  I had met Irwin and LaDonna Shaw previously on a visit to a wholesale house, and Irwin Shaw fit the description given by Derrick’s employee. 

I arrived at a very old brick building with windows fronting the entire shop.  The front display consisted of some white wood shelves topped with silk arrangements in colors and flowers that had been popular about fifteen years before.  Once inside, it was apparent the silk arrangements had been on those shelves for close to those fifteen years, since they were several shades lighter on the exposed side. 

A flower cooler to the right of the entrance held a small assortment of arrangements; a dozen roses and some mixed bouquets in varied containers.  The mixed arrangements looked very similar to the Western triangle style I had been taught by my Aunt Rosie, and lent an immediate feeling of familiarity to the small shop.

I walked to the counter and knocked on the Formica. 

“Hello, anybody home?” 

“Oh, hello!” someone called.

I recognized LaDonna Shaw peeking around the frame of a door to the design room. 

“I know you, don’t I?” she asked warmly.

“I believe we’ve met before.  My name is Quincy McKay.” 

“Come on back here, Quincy.  I’m just messing with this computer.  We’ve had it for two weeks and I still can’t figure out how to turn it on.  It’s so good to see you again.”  Her voice had a quality reminiscent of days spent with my grandma and of warm banana bread just out of the oven.  “The last time I saw you was that day at Sunrise Wholesale.  It was the first time we had been in a wholesaler’s.  We had just bought this shop from our son.  I remember you were so friendly and helpful to us then.  That isn’t such a common thing you know.  We’ve gotten the cold shoulder from a lot of other florists.”

“Really?  I’m so sad to hear that.”  The floral industry in Utah was a small circle.  Many older shops made it a practice to shun any newcomers and other shops bad mouthed their competitors. 

“Do you know anything about computers?” LaDonna asked. 

“I don’t know a lot, but I might be able to help.  What are you having trouble with?”

“I don’t even know how to turn the darn thing on.”

She showed me into the office where a nice new giant monitor and computer sat along with a new printer and scanner and every accessory you can think of.  The newest name brand software packages sat unopened on top of the desk.  On another table sat a brand new point-of-sale system still in the box. 

“Wow, this is a nice computer!  And this point-of-sale system is top of the line.  I know because I've been looking into getting one myself.” 

“Oh good.  Maybe you can help me to get it running.  The salesman said it should be ready to use, and we need it to get all of our on-line orders from the wire service.  But I can’t even turn it on.  Oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could help us, Quincy?” 

How could I say no to a grandma?  As I looked over everything, I realized they had spent at least $20,000 on all of the new equipment. 

“LaDonna, who did you say you bought this from?”  A system this nice should have been accompanied by some coaching on how to use it. 

“I got it from the wire service.  They said that if we bought the fancy computerized cash registers, we would get a twenty- percent discount on the rest of the computer and all the other equipment.  They said they would show us how to use it but…” she chuckled, “well like I said; where do you turn it on?”

The Shaws had obviously been had by a slick salesman from a third-rate company.  I spent the next hour getting their system in order and then demonstrating to LaDonna the basics of how to use her computer, and how to find the user guide if she had any questions.  The point-of-sale system would have to wait until another time. 

While crawling on the floor and squeezing myself between the desk and the wall hooking up cords, I chatted with LaDonna and learned a little bit about her.  She was a talkative woman. 

I listened while waiting for software to load, and then the ringing of the telephone interrupted us.  I overheard LaDonna during her phone conversation.  She spoke loudly and repeated herself often. 

“How did the meeting go? Any luck?  Oh.”  LaDonna’s face darkened, the wrinkles around her mouth deepened.  “Well we weren’t expecting much anyway.  Drive carefully.  Okay.  Bye.”  Her head remained down-turned after she replaced the receiver.   Her trembling chin betrayed her before she looked up with moist eyes.  She awkwardly tried to coax a handkerchief from her pants pocket.  She wiped her nose then looked up, remembering I sat in the office with her.   

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