box.
The upscale restaurant on the ground floor of the Patrick Henry building appeared closed for the night, but they heard piano music from the bar and a nicely dressed couple came out as they entered the former hotel.
“Should we be using a freight elevator?” Rob asked.
“Probably, but I don’t know where it is. I only have a key to the office, and this is the only way I know to get there,” Cam said.
As they stood, a businessman joined them waiting for the elevator, so Cam and Annie got in with their one box apiece, leaving the businessman room to stand without being jostled. Rob and his two boxes waited for the next elevator.
“Second floor!” Cam called out as the doors closed.
“Second floor? You aren’t robbing the bank?” the man joked.
“Making a deposit,” Annie said, holding out her box.
Cam clarified. “Neil Patrick leased space on the second floor, which he’s kindly lent to the Little Miss Begonia Pageant through the end of July.”
To her surprise he raised an interested eyebrow. “Are you working with Evangeline?” The elevator had stopped and Annie got out, but the man was holding the door and partially blocking Cam’s way.
“Yes. Are you a friend of hers?”
He laughed. “Oh, I’d hardly put it that way. Still, I’d like to run into her.” He finally backed against the wall, allowing Cam room to maneuver out of the elevator. The doors shut behind her.
“See? Haunted,” Annie said, picking up her box again.
Cam laughed. “Yeah, I’d go along with that.” She found the heavy glass door, currently unmarked, and unlocked the deadbolt at the bottom. She turned on a light, which spilled out into the dim hallway just as the other elevator door opened. Cam and Annie watched as Rob wrestled his boxes out of the elevator.
As they brought in the boxes, twice Rob shouted “Boo!” behind Annie, delighted to finally have an advantage on his girlfriend’s best friend. Annie had teased him a lot over the years. They finished and made two more trips, storing the boxes in a side room. Cam left Evangeline a note, and then they were free to get their beer before calling it a night.
* * *
J ake actually beat them to Martin’s. For the four of them, Martin’s Downtown Bar had become a sort of tradition.
Rob sat across from Jake and leaned back. “So tell us about Telly Stevens,” he said.
“Definitely died of poison,” Jake said. “The initial lab results have identified it as plant matter.”
“Oh, crap,” Cam said. “Murder?”
“Suicide is possible, though the M.E. said it was a horrible death. A guy who knew anything about whatever plant it was wouldn’t have picked it.”
“And Telly did,” Cam said. That had been her concern: knowledge. Plus, anything plant-related pointed to the Roanoke Garden Society as the experts. She worried someone she worked for might be suspected. Again. “What about time of death?”
“Difficult to say with as warm as it was. Body temperature doesn’t change much when the air outside is so warm. No rigor mortis yet, though, so less than two hours before he was found.”
“And the men planting didn’t see anything?” Cam asked.
Jake just looked at her.
“I just thought . . . they were there all day except their lunch break. You could find out when they took that, and it should help identify when he got to that spot.”
“That’s not bad, Cam,” he said.
“Do you have any suspects?” she asked.
“No fingerprints on that flask except his own. We canvased his coworkers and some of his social connections. Everybody has a theory—they all seemed to know someone who didn’t like him, but all claimed they personally did. It’s a pretty large field of suspects. I think I should leave it at that, though.”
He clearly didn’t want any more questions. That was okay. Cam didn’t want to get involved, either. Rob was eating up the details, though, and she was sure she would hear about it if there was any reason she
The upscale restaurant on the ground floor of the Patrick Henry building appeared closed for the night, but they heard piano music from the bar and a nicely dressed couple came out as they entered the former hotel.
“Should we be using a freight elevator?” Rob asked.
“Probably, but I don’t know where it is. I only have a key to the office, and this is the only way I know to get there,” Cam said.
As they stood, a businessman joined them waiting for the elevator, so Cam and Annie got in with their one box apiece, leaving the businessman room to stand without being jostled. Rob and his two boxes waited for the next elevator.
“Second floor!” Cam called out as the doors closed.
“Second floor? You aren’t robbing the bank?” the man joked.
“Making a deposit,” Annie said, holding out her box.
Cam clarified. “Neil Patrick leased space on the second floor, which he’s kindly lent to the Little Miss Begonia Pageant through the end of July.”
To her surprise he raised an interested eyebrow. “Are you working with Evangeline?” The elevator had stopped and Annie got out, but the man was holding the door and partially blocking Cam’s way.
“Yes. Are you a friend of hers?”
He laughed. “Oh, I’d hardly put it that way. Still, I’d like to run into her.” He finally backed against the wall, allowing Cam room to maneuver out of the elevator. The doors shut behind her.
“See? Haunted,” Annie said, picking up her box again.
Cam laughed. “Yeah, I’d go along with that.” She found the heavy glass door, currently unmarked, and unlocked the deadbolt at the bottom. She turned on a light, which spilled out into the dim hallway just as the other elevator door opened. Cam and Annie watched as Rob wrestled his boxes out of the elevator.
As they brought in the boxes, twice Rob shouted “Boo!” behind Annie, delighted to finally have an advantage on his girlfriend’s best friend. Annie had teased him a lot over the years. They finished and made two more trips, storing the boxes in a side room. Cam left Evangeline a note, and then they were free to get their beer before calling it a night.
* * *
J ake actually beat them to Martin’s. For the four of them, Martin’s Downtown Bar had become a sort of tradition.
Rob sat across from Jake and leaned back. “So tell us about Telly Stevens,” he said.
“Definitely died of poison,” Jake said. “The initial lab results have identified it as plant matter.”
“Oh, crap,” Cam said. “Murder?”
“Suicide is possible, though the M.E. said it was a horrible death. A guy who knew anything about whatever plant it was wouldn’t have picked it.”
“And Telly did,” Cam said. That had been her concern: knowledge. Plus, anything plant-related pointed to the Roanoke Garden Society as the experts. She worried someone she worked for might be suspected. Again. “What about time of death?”
“Difficult to say with as warm as it was. Body temperature doesn’t change much when the air outside is so warm. No rigor mortis yet, though, so less than two hours before he was found.”
“And the men planting didn’t see anything?” Cam asked.
Jake just looked at her.
“I just thought . . . they were there all day except their lunch break. You could find out when they took that, and it should help identify when he got to that spot.”
“That’s not bad, Cam,” he said.
“Do you have any suspects?” she asked.
“No fingerprints on that flask except his own. We canvased his coworkers and some of his social connections. Everybody has a theory—they all seemed to know someone who didn’t like him, but all claimed they personally did. It’s a pretty large field of suspects. I think I should leave it at that, though.”
He clearly didn’t want any more questions. That was okay. Cam didn’t want to get involved, either. Rob was eating up the details, though, and she was sure she would hear about it if there was any reason she
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