Holly Green Murder: African Violet Club Mysteries, #6

By Elise M. Stone

Lilliana Wentworth is preparing for Christmas, relieved that life in the Rainbow Ranch Retirement Community has settled down and gone back to normal.

Until the retirement home is sold…

And she literally stumbles over the body of the new administrator.

To make matters worse, her boyfriend, Christopher, has gone off to Scotland without her, and she hasn't heard from him in too long a time.

She jumps at the chance to help the small town police chief solve the crime, mostly to keep from thinking about that.

Can she capture the killer in time to have a happy holiday?

And will Lilliana get the only Christmas present she really wants?

Buy now and find out!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elise M. Stone
• Release date: Nov 9, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386590316

Elise M. Stone

Elise M. Stone was born and raised in New York, went to college in Michigan, lived in the Boston area for eight years, and not too long ago moved to sunny Tucson, Arizona, where she doesn't have to shovel snow. Her first degree was in psychology, her second in computers. She's worked as a pizza maker, library clerk, waitress, social worker, programmer, and data jockey. Retired now, she spends her days doing her two favorite things: writing and reading. Agatha and Spenser, her two cats, keep her company while watching birds and lizards outside her office window. I love hearing from readers. You can connect with me at: Email: [e-mail] Twitter: @EliseMStone Facebook: www.facebook.com/EliseMStone

Book preview

Chapter 1

Lilliana Wentworth’s cell phone played an arpeggio, a reminder that it was almost time for the African Violet Club meeting. She put down her book and headed toward the bathroom to take care of necessities and tame her wayward gray locks into place. The sight of the slightly irregular, one-inch scar slashed across her chin reflected in the mirror captured her gaze and halted her hand holding the hairbrush in mid-air. Such a little thing to have crushed her dream of going to Scotland with Christopher.

She had gone to see Kirstie, the nurse at the Rainbow Ranch Retirement Community, just as a precaution. The bump had grown from a tiny pimple to a significant lump in a matter of weeks, and she wondered if it was a pimple, or maybe a cyst, that had gotten infected. Better to get it taken care of here than to be hunting for medical care in an unfamiliar country.

And then Kirstie had used the C-word, tempered with qualifications and reassurances, but Lilliana’s heart had raced anyway as fear surged through her veins. Since her daughter had lost her life to breast cancer at too young an age, Lilliana was afraid to let this go until she returned from a trip of indeterminate duration.

But Christopher couldn’t wait. His daughter, Jeanie, was dying of the muscular neural disease that had crippled her most of her life. The care home where she lived had no idea how long she would last. And so he had taken off for Edinburgh, leaving Lilliana in southern Arizona to take care of her problem.

She’d told Christopher she’d join him after she’d seen a dermatologist.

Unfortunately, there was no hurrying the medical profession, no matter how urgent the patient considered the reason. It had taken time to get her first appointment, at which the bump had been sliced off her chin and sent off for a biopsy. It had taken time to get the results, and then arrange for an appointment for the procedure with a specialist who would root out any remaining cancer cells. It had taken time as she waited for the follow-up office visit to make sure the stitches dissolved and the incision was healing properly.

Yesterday the dermatologist had told her the scar was healing nicely. She could stop applying Vaseline, but she should use sunscreen to keep it from darkening. And protect against another lump appearing on her face.

She hadn’t heard from Christopher in over a week, and that had been but a one-sentence email.

They don’t think she will last the night.

Was it too late to join him? It must be. But why hadn’t she heard from him?

The clock in her dining room chimed twice. She quickly ran the brush through her hair. She’d better hurry down to the African Violet Club meeting before people started wondering what had happened to her.

Chapter 2

All but one of the chairs along the sides of the small conference table were taken by the time Lilliana entered the library. A tray of cookies and a pitcher of something cold to drink, the major attraction for some of the attendees, had been placed at the center of the table.

Mary, a sweet woman who raised miniatures, gave her a smile and a thumbs-up. Sarah, her short, gray hair carefully coifed, let out a breath in relief at the sight of Lilliana. Early in the year, the club had elected Sarah president, but she still wasn’t comfortable in that role. Lenny, looking particularly tanned from his hours out on the tennis court, sat opposite Mary. And, of course, Frank, their resident expert in growing African violets, sat opposite Sarah.

Framed in a nimbus created by the sunlight pouring through the window, a new person, a woman by the shape of her silhouette, occupied the chair at the end of the table. Her features were shrouded in shadow and difficult to make out. Medium-length hair fluffed out around her face and some kind of scarf or shawl was draped around her neck and over her shoulders. A large African violet with copious, pale purple blooms sat on the table in front of her.

Sarah rose to her feet. Now that Lilliana is here, we can start.

Lilliana ducked her head and slid into an empty chair. She didn’t like to be late. She also didn’t like to be the center of attention.

Frank has brought us a special guest today. I’ll let him introduce her. Sarah sank to her seat.

Frank stood eagerly, his blue eyes sparkling behind his glasses, his quick smile revealing tobacco-stained teeth. I’d like you all to meet Judith Horner. I finally persuaded her to move to Rainbow Ranch after several months spent trying to convince her. His Adam’s apple bobbed behind the wattles in his throat as he swallowed.

Judi has been growing African violets for more than forty years. She exhibits not only in the Tucson show, but also in the national African Violet Society of America show at the convention. Last year, she won a blue ribbon in the Best Species category for her Saintpaulia ionantha. He gestured toward the pot in front of Judi.

Lilliana squinted as she tried to make out the details of the plant. She noticed Mary was shading her eyes. Frank, could you close the blinds, please?

Frank paused in a moment of confusion, then turned toward the window and saw the sunshine streaming through. Oh, of course.

Once he’d shut the blinds, the S. ionantha came into focus. So did Judi. That fluff of hair turned out to be silver, matching the pale gray of the scarf Judi wore. Laugh lines crinkled around eyes framed by the wire rims of her glasses.

Frank returned to his spot beside Judi. She’s going to tell us about the AVSA Convention and Show, and what it’s like to win a ribbon there. Judi?

She rose and began speaking. Going to the national convention is so much fun. You meet so many people, and they’re all so nice, especially when they spot the turquoise ribbon hanging from your badge, which tells everyone you’re new. All the veterans make an effort to make you feel at home. I even got invited to sit with the winner of last year’s Best in Show at lunch on the first day.

Judi bubbled over with enthusiasm, and heartburn sizzled in Lilliana’s chest in response. She was used to being the preeminent woman grower of African violets in Rainbow Ranch, and in a few words, Judi Horner had usurped her position.

She appraised the woman’s chunky build, thinking she couldn’t very well go hiking at that weight. The uncharitable thought made her wince. If Judi was a friend of Frank’s, she must have some good qualities. Lilliana tried to pay closer attention to what she was saying.

This is my best plant. I have a dozen or more species plants, the original kind found in Africa, as well as shelves of hybrids. I love the simplicity of the species plants, though, the single blossoms, the beautiful green leaves, so unlike their showier cousins.

Lilliana thought back to her True Blue, the first hybrid she’d created and won a ribbon with at Rainbow Ranch’s small first show, thinking it was exactly the kind of plant Judi was disparaging. She pursed her lips.

The woman went on for twenty minutes about how many plants there were on display and for sale, and how she’d expanded her collection with unique varieties not found in the catalogs. Mary and Sarah hung on every word she spoke. Finally, she paused in her narration, and Frank took the opportunity to speak again. I think it’s break time. Let’s have some punch and cookies, and afterwards maybe we could do a Q and A?

Judi kept smiling and said, That’s a wonderful idea. I’m dying to try some of those delicious-looking cookies. But first, could someone tell me where the ladies room is?

Sarah jumped up. I’ll be glad to take you there. The two of them left the room, followed more slowly by Mary and her walker.

Lenny poured himself a glass of fruit punch while Frank waited his turn. Lilliana slowly rose from her chair and stood in line behind Frank.

How did you meet her?

Startled, Frank turned toward Lilliana, paper cup in hand. At the Tucson chapter of the AVSA. I thought I said that.

Not in so many words. Lilliana filled a cup with some kind of red fruit punch and took a sip. Sweet, but with a sour undertaste that puckered her mouth. I don’t remember her from the times we went.

Frank scratched his balding head. She might not have been there when I went with you. She’s very nice. When I told her I’d be missing a meeting or two because I didn’t have a car and you couldn’t go, she volunteered to come out here and drive me to them.

Oh. Meetings had been about the last thing on her mind over the past month.

You two have a lot in common, Frank said.

Oh? Did she suddenly have only a one-word vocabulary?

Judi used to teach English in the Tucson schools. English literature, in particular. I told her how you like to read Shakespeare, and she was glad there’d be somebody here to talk to about things like that.

It could have been worse, Lilliana thought jealously. Judi could have been a professor at the University of Arizona. I haven’t been reading much Shakespeare lately. A wave of regret washed over her.

Judi and Sarah had returned from the ladies room by now. Judi picked up a sugar cookie and made her way to where Lilliana and Frank were standing. Hello, she said. Frank has told me so much about you.

Lilliana made an effort to smile. I’m glad to meet you. When did you move in?

Just a few days ago. Judi laughed. I’m still living out of boxes. You never realize how much stuff you have until you pack it up to move.

You’re neighbors, Frank said.

Lilliana had almost forgotten he was standing next to her. Well, of course we’re neighbors. Rainbow Ranch isn’t that big.

No, I mean literally neighbors, Frank said. Judi’s in apartment 107.

Oh! Back to the one-word vocabulary. Now that she thought about it, she had noticed a moving truck out front and the sound of men moving things down the hall a few days ago.

Frank turned toward Judi. Lilliana’s in 109, right next door.

How nice! I’m sure we’ll see lots of one another then.

I imagine we will. Would that be a good or a bad thing?

The clump of Mary’s walker made Lilliana look up at the doorway. I see everyone’s back. We should get back to the meeting.

Oh, right. That’s probably a good idea. Frank led Judi back to the head of the table. He raised his voice to get everyone’s attention. Shall we go on to the Q and A?

Mary raised her hand. After Judi acknowledged her, she said, Were you nervous about the judging? I know I was terrified when we had our show.

A little. But, like I said, everyone was so nice. And because it was my first show, I really didn’t expect to win anything. I was surprised when they handed me the blue ribbon.

How much time do you spend taking care of your African violets? Lenny asked.

Just an hour or two a day. I’m not nearly as engrossed by raising them as Frank is. He’s the one who should be entering hybrids at national. She looked at him with... adoration? Lilliana wondered if they were more than just friends.

Anyone else? Frank asked, tearing his eyes away from Judi’s. When no one raised a hand, he continued. Well, I guess we’ll see you at dinner then.

Chapter 3

Lilliana turned the page of the book she was reading. It rustled like a pile of dry leaves swirling in the winds of a gray autumn afternoon. The music Lilliana had started playing when she sat down to read had long since ended. The softest sound roared in the silence.

Drip.

She turned her head, trying to locate the source of the sound.

Drip.

The kitchen?

She got up to hunt down the annoying noise, noticed the clock said 5:30, and wished what she heard was Christopher’s knock on the door of her apartment, announcing he’d come to escort her to dinner. It had been weeks since that had happened, and she wasn’t sure when it would happen again.

Drip.

Standing in front of the kitchen sink, she watched as a drop of water, suspended from the faucet, slowly grew, then plopped into the sink. At least it was in the sink and not under it. She lifted the lever, then pushed it down, having discovered that to turn the faucet off properly sometimes required first turning it on. And waited.

Drip.

She fiddled with it again, but it did no good. She’d have to stop at the reception desk and ask Beverly, the receptionist, to send Raul over to fix it. Tomorrow, since Beverly left early now, Russ Ellison having cut her hours to save money.

With or without Christopher, she supposed she should go to the dining room before it closed. Not that she was hungry. She’d eaten even less than she normally did since Christopher had gone.

She retrieved her key and her phone from her purse, put the phone in her pocket, and opened the front door. As she exited into the hall, the door of 107 opened, and Judi Horner stepped out.

How nice to see you, Lilliana. Are you going to dinner?

Judi still wore the gray knit dress and silver scarf she’d worn at the meeting of the African Violet Club. She also wore the same cheery smile. Lilliana wondered if their chance meetings would become a regular occurrence.

Yes, I am, she said noncommittally.

Good. Then we can walk down together. Judi fell in beside her. I’m meeting Frank for dinner. Would you like to join us?

No, she wouldn’t. But she shouldn’t be rude. I’d love to, she lied, but I want to catch up with my friend Nancy this evening. Perhaps another time.