Page 17 of Magic Blooms
And I decided not to be coy about what we both knew was true. "Because, if there truly was a murder today, then I bet I’m your main suspect."
seven
The Pinecrest Inn looked nothing like Fox’s End. Whereas Lorraine's establishment was rustic and charming, Pinecrest appeared elegant and expensive.
Rather than designing their lawns and flower beds to fit the terrain, the land had been torn out and reconstructed to fit the developer’s vision for the spot. Each plant, bush, and flower had been placed precisely where it was meant to go and was blocked from expanding any further by paving stones and neat, black woodchips.
Clearly expensive, the outside had been painted a pristine white with large columns along the front scaling up all three stories. It was as though this place had been intended to come across as an important historical site, but even an outsider like me could tell this was a brand-new construction.
I leaned forward in Joshua’s truck to get a better view as we continued our approach. The inside of his truck was immaculately clean despite the dirty exterior and powerful engine blowing emissions into the surrounding country air.
When I’d first taken my spot on the bench seat, Joshua smiled and formally introduced me to “Old Sparky,” thus named because the vehicle had a bad habit of eating its way through spark plugs. I didn't know what spark plugs were, but Sparky sounded like a cute name, so I’d be sure to use it going forward.
Lorraine's tiny hybrid car, by contrast, had been filled with scraps of paper and old coffee cups. Obviously, Joshua had different values when it came to his mode of transportation.
"So do you really think this Gerry could be our killer?" I asked as we continued up the long drive of the bustling Pinecrest Inn.
Joshua shrugged as he navigated a subtle curve in the driveway. "We can't rule it out without talking to him."
"But you know him, right? Lorraine told me that you do work for him sometimes."
He glanced over at me and raised one skeptical eyebrow. "The two of you were talking about me?"
I felt like I’d been caught in the act, but at the same time knew I hadn't done anything wrong. "I was asking her if you were okay after what happened in the storm. I was worried."
He snorted and turned his eyes back to the road. We’d reached the small parking lot now. "Well, as you can see, I'm fine."
"So you don’t think he did it? Or you don’t want to say?" I asked with a smug grin, unwilling to let him get off the hook that easily.
Joshua eased Old Sparky into a tight space and shut off the engine, then turned to me with a worn expression. "I’ve been doing work on and off for Gerry ever since he bought the place five years ago. I’ve been doing more and more for him lately since his regular handyman quit about a year ago. What can I say about Gerry? He pays on time, but I've always got to negotiate him up to a fair wage. He's a stingy boss. And yeah, he dislikes Lorraine every bit as much as she dislikes him.”
I shook my head and huffed. "Well, I don’t blame Lorraine. After all, he opened a competing business just down the road from her. Not very nice at all."
Joshua chuckled under his breath. "We live in a capitalist society. Competing businesses are the backbone of America."
"Hmm. I don't know about any of that, but I know rude when I see it. Lorraine was here first. That should be respected."
"You’re not wrong, but disrespecting those that came first is also kind of American thing,” he answered bitterly, wrapping his hands around the wheel even though the engine had already been turned off.
I stared blankly, not understanding the reference at all.
Joshua just grunted and shook his head. "Let's get this over with. Let me do all the talking. You just stand there, look pretty, and try to make Gerry comfortable."
Before I could protest his demand that I stay quiet, Joshua was already getting out of the truck. Even though he was probably right that I should keep silent, seeing how little I knew about the situation, I didn't like being ordered around or being told my looks were the only thing I could offer in this situation.
Normally, I had no problem standing back and staying quiet while others—usually my parents—dealt with what needed dealing. So why did I hate Joshua suggesting I do the very same thing?
This whole experience here was becoming far too dangerous. Either it—or the people I was meeting here—were changing me. And I feared it might not be for the better.
I got out of the truck and quickened my pace to catch up with Joshua.
He stopped to hold the door open for me, and a giant wave of frigid air hit us full-on.
I shivered as I stepped inside and got my first look at the interior of the establishment.
Right away, I could see why my gracious hostess wasn't a fan. It didn’t feel lived in or even welcoming. The cold marble floors and fancy artwork made me feel as if the luxury inn didn’t want my business, nor that they needed it.
If the outside felt fake, then the inside just felt sad. Cold. And not just from the artificially chilled air.
