Death in Bloom by Jess Dylan

Author:Jess Dylan [Dylan, Jess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

* * *

Dad and Rocky came with me to Flower House. Mom wanted to come too, but when she realized that meant Gus would be on his own, loose in her house, she decided to stay behind.

“Don’t be there any longer than necessary,” she’d said to all three of us. “We can go back tomorrow morning to take care of any cleanup.”

But “any cleanup,” as I was soon to learn, was going to take a whole lot longer than one morning. It would probably take longer than a week.

A uniformed police officer—young Officer Dakin, as it happened—stopped us at the front door. “Wait here,” he ordered. “I’ll get the chief.”

I tried to peek in the window, as Dad gazed across the street and Rocky bounced anxiously on the balls of his feet. Flower House was lit up like a movie set, with all the lights on, plus a police spotlight or two. A minute later, Chief Walden appeared at the front door.

“Hal. Rocky,” he said, nodding at the two men, before turning to me. “Sierra, when were you last here?”

I tried to think. “Earlier today. I left around four thirty to go to the bank and post office. Calvin left at the same time to make a delivery. I know I locked the door behind us. Did someone break the lock again?”

“Not quite,” said the chief. “I’m going to let you in now, but watch your step. There’s broken pottery and glass on the floor.”

He stepped back and ushered us through the doorway. I didn’t take more than two steps inside before gasping in disbelief. There was a whole lot more than pottery and glass on the floor.

“Dang,” said Rocky beside me. “Looks like a tornado came through here.”

He wasn’t wrong. The floor was littered with debris: loose cut flowers; crushed branches of eucalyptus, dried thistle, and cattails; broken vases; scattered greeting cards. Everything that was previously on a shelf or table was now on the floor. It looked very much like the aftermath of a bad storm.

One glimpse into the events room revealed the same thing. Books, catalogs, flowers, and vases were strewn all over the room. Furniture was once again overturned. The area rug had been pulled up and tossed to the side in a crumpled heap. Even Gus’s gate had been kicked over and trampled on.

“I realize it might be hard to tell,” said Chief Walden, “but try to notice if anything seems to be missing. We need to know if this is a burglary or straight vandalism.”

I nodded, unable to find my voice. Moving down the hall, I stopped at the door to the orchid room. And that’s when hot tears sprang to my eyes.

“Georgina’s orchids,” I whispered. “Why?”

As with the other rooms, all surfaces had been swept, the potted orchids, books, and ceramics pushed to the floor. It was almost as if someone had taken glee in creating the biggest mess possible, making a point to stomp on so many delicate petals in the process.

“It’s more than vandalism,” I choked out.

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