Jill Churchill - The Accidental Florist

"You parked illegally," Shelley said.

"I did?"

"See that yellow ticket on your windshield? You didn't put money in the parking meter."

"Rats,"Jane said. "Don't tell Mel. Or our sons."

They went home. Jane wrote a check for the parking ticket and put it out with the mail. She took several of her books she'd recently bought outside with a bunch of sticky notes to mark pages she thought might have interesting material. There wasn't anything going on with the room addition today. The concrete was setting up and it would be next week before anything else could be done.

"Until we have a firm base, we can't proceed. By Monday we'll be back," the contractor said.

Jane had taken her cell phone outside again. It was a mild day under the umbrella and she liked sitting in the shade. If Mel had anything he could tell her about what had happened that morning at the Women's Safety meeting place, he could reach her. Apparently something awful had been done to someone. There was no way to even guess who it was. She hoped it wasn't Miss Welbourne. She wasn't really fond of the woman, but Miss Welbourne

was doing a good, knowledgeable service for a lot of women. It had already been enlightening for Jane and Shelley. The stuff about protecting your belongings in a purse was good advice. Looking brave and alert if you found yourself in a scary neighborhood was also advice that she'd remember.

As she expected, Mel didn't contact her. She and Shelley decided to watch the local news at five and see if something was mentioned.

But Shelley caught a newscast at noon and came over to tell Jane what she'd heard.

"They just said that a freelance teacher had been murdered overnight on that block. The police weren't yet giving out the name or circumstances nor anything about the murder weapon or suspects."

"It does sound as if it might have been Miss Welbourne, doesn't it?" Jane asked.

"Unless there is another teacher in an adjoining classroom who was the victim," Shelley suggested.

"I suppose that's possible. But I didn't see any bulletin board notes about other classes being held there today. Did you?"

"I didn't really pay attention," Shelley admitted. "And there is no way the police are going to let us in the building to look."

"And it's really not any of our business," Jane added, but she was as curious as Shelley was.

"What are all those sticky notes bristling from that pile of books for?" Shelley asked, sitting down on a patio chair.

"Just things that might be useful to plot my next book."

"Can't you take a little time off?"

"I could. But I don't want to. I sent in the second one the other day."

"You didn't mention that to me." Shelley sounded a bit irritated.

"You knew I was almost done. I didn't think you needed to know where and when I mailed it in." Shelley grinned. "You're right. I'm not your mother."

Mel called Jane late in the afternoon. "I was glad to see that you and Shelley took my gesture to go back home so well."

"What happened and to whom?" Jane asked.

"Miss Welbourne was murdered."

"When?"

"We don't know yet. In fact we know very little so far. I just wanted you to know. I have to go now. If I learn anything else I'll let you know."

It was late the next day when Mel got back to Jane. "Sorry for the delay. Your uncle Jim was in charge of the case against the man who killed his wife, who was a member of that class. It was easy to get him. Then Miss Welbourne was murdered as well and Jim handed it off to me."

"That's understandable, isn't it?"

"Of course it was. I'm not complaining. Jim's perp was

in jail and is about the only person who couldn't be the perpetrator. It's impossible for him to have killed Miss Welbourne."

"So what do you know so far?"

"Not much. The pathologist said at first that she'd been hit on the front of her head. He's not even sure whether she was alive or dead when it happened. If she'd had a stroke or a heart attack within a moment of the attack it would be hard to know. What is clear is that she didn't get the injury by herself. She wasn't found near anything that she could have struck her head against in a fall. No sign of blood on any piece of furniture. No weapon found nearby, or near the site."

"Thanks for letting me know. You'll solve it, of course." "Or the pathologist will find more evidence of the cause of death."

Jane called Shelley and reported what Mel had said.

"It's a shame that someone who taught women to protect themselves had to die. Was it a natural death?"

"Mel said they didn't know yet. The pathologist hasn't determined yet if she had a stroke or heart attack before or after someone hit her in the head."

"So if she could have survived the stroke or heart attack, and someone found her quickly enough, she might have lived. Otherwise it's murder," Shelley said bluntly.

"I suppose so."

"I wish we could at least see her notes of what she meantto talk about today. It had to be more interesting than the last session about traveling to foreign countries."

Jane said, "I'd guess every scrap of paper in the room has been seized, and is unavailable to us. At least for now."

"Ask Mel about it, would you? Not right now but later."

"Will do."

Jane had barely put the phone down when she had a call from her mother-in-law, Thelma.

"Jane, I'd like to get together with you at some nice restaurant the day after tomorrow to talk about your wedding. I've already picked out a nice place." She gave the name of the restaurant and directions and set a time and told Jane that she'd make the reservation momentarily.

"And dress well, if you would," Thelma added.

Jane was tempted to scream, but said calmly, "I always dress nicely to go to good restaurants."

"I've seen you at nice restaurants wearing blue jeans."

Jane had to laugh. "Thelma nobody but you calls them `blue' jeans anymore. If I wore jeans, they'd be expensive designer jeans. And by the way, where did you see me in jeans?"

There was a moment of silence, then Thelma said, "It wasn't really me who saw you. It was a woman from the church who knew you when you were still going to church."

Another criticism. Two in a row.

"I've written it down in my date book. I'll meet you there."

Jane immediately called Shelley hack.

"You've finally decided on what you're wearing to the fake wedding?"

"No. Nothing like that. I just had an unpleasant call from Thelma."

"Aren't all Thelma's conversations unpleasant?"

"Yes, but this one has me worried. She's up to something that's sure to be really nasty. Let's go to a restaurant for lunch," Jane suggested.

They'd made sure to sit far away from the other diners so they wouldn't be overheard. Jane repeated what Thelma said.

"Dress well!" Shelley exclaimed. Then she sat back a bit from the table, thinking. "I don't buy the story about the church lady seeing you."

"Neither do I."

"A private detective?"

"Exactly what I guessed,"Jane said. "But why?" "Just general snooping?"

"Thelma doesn't spend money out of sheer curiosity."

"Trying to find out something bad about you?"

"I assume so. But what good would it do her? I'm not aware of doing anything absurd or illegal in a restaurant or anywhere else in public. What's she hoping to learn about my private life?" Jane mused.

"I guess you'll have to show up to find out. Jane, she's up to no good, that's for sure. By the way, you need to make a decision soon about what you are wearing for the fake wedding. Have you invited Thelma to either or both?"

"Informally. I told her there would be a civil ceremonyand another in a church or hotel. I didn't explain why, but said she would be welcome to come to either or both." "And she said?"