Cornflowers and Corpses

Pink's Flowers is in the middle of a busy bridal season, and Lacey is struggling to find a replacement for her irreplaceable assistant Ryder Kirkland. In the midst of dealing with quirky, incompetent and occasionally just unpleasant new floral assistants, Lacey finds her focus and time once again taken up by murder.

The West Coast Bird Watcher's Society has come to town for some birding frivolity and excursions. When one of the members winds up dead, Lacey and her super nose jump into action. The victim had plenty of enemies and not many friends so theories and accusations take flight. Detective Briggs and Lacey must untangle the clues to find the killer.

Elsie pulled the hot loaf of zucchini bread out of the oven. My nose wiggled into action. "I smell cinnamon."

Lola scoffed as she picked up her coffee. "You don't need a super nose for that. Even I can smell the cinnamon. Since our little get together is after the lunch hour and before the dinner hour, is it called a linner? Or is it a dunch?"

"How about just a munch fest?" Elsie placed the steaming brown sugar loaf on a plate in the center of the table. We'd decided to have a girls' late Sunday afternoon get together, complete with all the goodies we could muster (most of which had come straight from Elsie's oven).

"My vote is for munch fest." I reached for the first hot slice of sweet bread. It was dotted with chunks of walnuts and thin wisps of zucchini. "You are truly a miracle worker, Elsie. Who else can make a vegetable into such a delectable, decadent treat?"

"Any other person who has baked zucchini bread," Elsie quipped as she sat down to join us. She reached for some of the plump red strawberries Lola had brought. "Although mine is probably better than most." She arched a judgmental brow toward Lola, who was deeply focused on slathering an obscene amount of fresh whipped butter on her slice of zucchini bread. "How on earth do you stay so skinny?" Elsie asked.

Lola shrugged and shoved the richly topped bread into her mouth.

"It's because she never stops moving," I said. "And it's aggravating as heck."

Elsie turned the same arched brow my direction. "Says the woman who consumes bakery goods like other people drink water. And you're still the same size you were when you danced into Port Danby a few years ago with your hopelessly positive attitude and your flower arranging notebooks."

I grabbed a thick, green slice of honeydew melon. "Hopelessly positive? I'm not hopelessly positive."

"Yes you are," my two friends said in perfect unison.

"Really?" I smiled. "Then I'll take that as a compliment."

"See," Lola said. "Hopelessly positive." A burst of wind sprayed Elsie's kitchen window with drops of rain. Lola groaned. "Why is it raining? It's June. I want perpetually sunny weather from this point forward. No clouds or rain or anything that frizzes my hair for the next three months."

I wiped a touch of butter on my zucchini bread. Lola was a terrible influence. (Not that I needed influence.) "Rain will make the rest of summer, including the sweltering month of August, even more beautiful."

"Yes, all right, Pollyanna," Lola quipped. "Now you're trying too hard. But I know a subject that even you can't put a positive spin on." She rested back with a pleased smile. "Does your new flower arranger start tomorrow? What will that be, number four or number five?"

I sighed deeply. "Six if you count the guy who showed up an hour late on the first day and then asked which flowers were chrysanthemums before proceeding to engage in a lengthy text conversation with his gaming buddy. He was there for such a short amount of time, I can't even remember his name. But I do remember that he'd had something with garlic for breakfast because he smelled as if he had spent the night in a vat of garlic infused olive oil."

Elsie pressed a napkin to her mouth to stifle a laugh.

I pretended to be offended with a chin lift and a straightening of my posture."I'm glad you find my plight so entertaining."

A dry laugh burst from Elsie's mouth. "Excuse me but you told me you were going to write a book about all the baking assistants I've blown through in the past two years. I'd say that falls under the category of entertainment."

"Yes but you have not had as many assistant disasters as I've had in just two months time," I said. "May I remind you about Norton and his planetary mission."

Lola laughed. "Did I hear this story? I don't remember the planetary mission."

I turned to her. "That's because while I listen to all your problems thoughtfully and with all the great care of a true friend, you wave off my grievances as not even worthy of a furrowed brow."

"Not true. I was highly concerned about your wonderful assistant, Ryder, leaving you in the middle of bridal season." Lola picked up another berry.

"I'm pretty sure your concern was more about you missing your boyfriend than me having to run around with my hair on fire all while putting together bridal bouquets."