He didn’t bother to look at me which meant he wasn’t interested in getting up.
“Okay,” I said getting out of bed. “I’m leaving in twenty, if you’re not up before then, no breakfast.”
His head shot up and he gave a protesting moan, then slowly got himself off the bed.
I barely closed the door to my truck when my cell rang, and I didn’t need to look to see who it was. “Are you stalking my camera, Dad?”
“Where are you going so early?” he asked, ignoring my question.
“Think about it, Dad. Who would be able to get me to drag my butt out of the house this early?”
“Danny needs help,” my dad said.
My truck roared to life, and I smiled knowing what my dad would say next. “Are you talking on the phone while driving?”
“I have you on speaker and once I reach the end of my driveway, I’ll be hanging up. Anything new on the murder victim?”
“I haven’t even gotten to the station yet,” he said.
“I’ll be at the garden center until one. You should stop by and pick up some potted mums for mom. You know how she loves them this time of year.”
“Aren’t you at the end of your driveway by now?” he asked.
I knew I couldn’t fool him into stopping by so I could interrogate him on the second murder, but it was worth a try.
“Maybe I’ll stop by,” he said
“You’re my superhero, Dad. I love you.” It never hurts to stroke your dad with the truth.
I was proud that I made it to the garden center with minutes to spare. Danny’s sour expression changed as soon as he spotted me. He smiled and waved at me, then waved at the driver of the large truck that just pulled in to direct him where to park.
I was busy nonstop until about eight, though I did manage to grab a minute to text Ian since I knew I wouldn’t have time to even glance at my phone. Early morning was the time the landscapers came in to pick up their orders. He sent a quick text back letting me know he had a full day of shoots and would speak with me later. I was on my third cup of oolong tea, needing the caffeine boost, when Vera Andrews, Amy’s nosey neighbor wandered in.
“Guess a couple of workers didn’t show up for work today since you’re here, Pepper. Must be that girl and guy with all the tattoos. They probably shacked up for the night and couldn’t bother getting out of bed this morning.”
Ignatia, or as everyone called her, Iggy, had one tattoo of a beautiful pink rose on her right arm and had worked for Danny three years now while attending college. Monroe Hipcoe had recently started part-time while pursuing a horticultural degree and his tattoos consisted of Celtic symbols. Both had proven to be dependable workers, but that info wouldn’t suit Vera.
“Your friend Amy is just as bad with that cover model, three nights in a row he stayed over at her house.”
That news surprised me, since Amy hadn’t mentioned it, but I couldn’t let Vera get away with slandering my best friend. “Jealous, Vera?” I kept a good smile when I wanted to laugh at the way her mouth dropped open.
“You’re just like your Aunt Euphemia, even look like her. Shameful. Just shameful. But I’m not one to talk of the dead so I’ll keep quiet,” Vera said.
“Can I help you find something, Vera?” I asked to avoid any further confrontation. She was a customer after all and my brother would expect me to be gracious and helpful especially to the troublesome customers.
After thirty minutes of picking out just the right pumpkins and mums, I loaded it all in Vera’s car and sent her off with a smile and relief that she was finally gone.
The rest of the morning sped by. The garden center was so busy, and inside the store was decorated beautifully for autumn and Halloween. That was Kelly’s design and her staff handled it exclusively.
I was coming around the corner with a scarecrow in my hands to replenish the pile that had been almost picked clean this morning and bumped right into my dad.
“Perfect. Your mom wanted another one of those,” my dad said.
“He’s yours,” I said, shoving the creature into his arms. “News on the dead guy?”
My dad shook his head but shared what he knew. “No more than the last time we caught him sneaking around your property. John Raider, no record, a freelance photographer who has a website where he posts photos that he’s able to grab of people in the news. He also sells photos, if lucky enough to get them, of more famous and in demand people.”
“If that’s the case, it would mean he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”