Tumultuous Time to Tulips: Madis Harrah Mysteries, #2

By Aubrey Elle

Spring is just around the corner, and Madis is back with more business than she might be able to handle. But she's hired a couple of new faces to add to her small crew, and it seems like it'll be a productive start to the season of landscaping. Properly staffed and rested after the winter break, it should be all systems go.

Not quite. Before her employees can really get busy, Madis encounters a dead man lying in a bed of ivy and tulip sprouts. Her entire crew is questioned since they've visited the scene, but they're not the only ones under suspicion. The victim had enemies aplenty, from an angry former lover, a nosy neighbor, and a competitive rival.

While there's no such thing as bad publicity, finding a corpse at a jobsite isn't ideal. Can she figure out who the killer is before things get muddier?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aubrey Elle
• Release date: Apr 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201645168

Book preview

Tumultuous Time to Tulips

Disclaimer

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Other Books by Aubrey Elle

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 Aubrey Elle

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions

For Grandma

Chapter One

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The garage I stood in front of was once a limo garage for the elite descendants who’d lived here well before my friend Rachel did. Now, she was trying to sell it to me as a small building she had no use for. As the bubbly blonde was a freelance accountant, I’d agree that no, she couldn’t need a four-car facility. More like a warehouse if anyone were to ask me, and it was way too much to accept.

I won’t take charity, I told her again, refusing her offer to let me rent the space for housing my landscaping vehicles and tools.

It’s not charity.

I gave her a stern look, partly out of exasperation for running through this argument again, but more so because she was holding me back from the coffee waiting for me in my truck. Right. You want me to ‘pay’ you with nothing more than friendship.

She beamed a bright smile and nodded. Yep!

"If, if, I consider this arrangement for the whole year, I am paying you money."

She groaned. Come on. I crunch your numbers, remember?

How could I forget? We’d reunited as former classmates and childhood friends who’d left our small town of Payton but ended up returning in the last year. Rachel was a friend I hadn’t realized I needed, a peppy, cheery soul, and she was my efficient bookkeeper.

And while you’re set to make oodles more than you did last year—

I raised a hand to cut her off. Let’s not jinx it. Sighing, I headed out of the garage and she followed.

February had just surrendered to March, and even though it was too premature to predict the landscaping season here in Ohio, I was forecasting a significant increase in work. Perhaps it was nothing more than a lot of demand and a small supply. I was one of two landscaping businesses in this little town, but I was stunned at how many quotes were already being requested for. Either my competition was doing that bad, or I’d done a decent job of landscaping in my inaugural year of business last season.

Still, I didn’t want to count my chickens before they hatched.

You already justified two new hires, she said at my side as I went for my truck to head to my first task of the day.

Which adds up.

Uh-huh. And Kent said that mower you got used last spring probably isn’t going to make it ’til summer.

I winced.

So why not be extra careful with your budget and make this your garage?

At the truck, I faced her, adamant she couldn’t sway me. I knew she meant well, but... "It’s your garage, on your property."

Narrowing her eyes but not showing anger, she crossed her arms. Which I’ll never use! Not all the way back here on the side of the estate. I’m having Cassidy add on a two-car garage that’ll connect to the house.

If I were in her shoes, I’d do the same. At least fifty yards stood between us and the mini-mansion she’d moved into last year.

My phone ringing in the cab gave me an easy out from having to tell her—again—that I could not just use this space for free. It wasn’t right.

Reaching in, I held up a finger to her to wait. I picked it up, seeing it was the employee I’d started my business with, a teen who preferred mowing over mulching. Jon, what’s up?

He cleared his throat. Uh, was I supposed to handle the Richmond quote? Get measurements?

Nope. I’d told him yesterday I would. Checking my watch, I frowned. Shoot. Running late. Arguing with Rachel would have to resume another day. I’m on my way there now.

Rachel rolled her eyes and smiled. I shrugged.

Okay. ’Cuz I drove by with Mason just now, and he commented that there’s a car in the driveway.

Unlike the day before, when Jon and the first new hire, Mason, had tried to meet with the client who hadn’t been home.

Just wanted to check I hadn’t messed up my morning.

I smiled. Thanks. But no, I had you two at the school fixing the beds that were plowed into over the winter. Kent and Beth should be at Mrs. Reen’s house doing cleanup.

That’s what I thought.

Thanks, Jon. I’ll catch you later.

Reminded of where I was supposed to go, I waved at Rachel and eased the rest of the way into my truck. Cold vinyl chilled me through my cargo pants, and I shivered under my sweatshirt. We’ll discuss this later, I promised her.

She nodded. Yes, we will.

Uh-huh. That was a hefty dose of determination in so few words.

I left, both of us still smiling because we never truly fought. Rachel’s place was a decent distance from the central residential hub of Payton, so I had a few minutes to muse.

The Doors played on the radio as I drove and sipped my coffee, stubbornly not looking at the time and admitting how behind I was. If Robbie Richmond was a hard guy to get a hold of, I had to take advantage of this rescheduled appointment.

Or...not? What if I didn’t take him on as a client? I wasn’t so tunnel-visioned to take on more work than I could handle, but what was a good load to maintain for a profit? I’d hired Mason and Beth a couple of weeks ago. It had been a surprisingly difficult feat to even find decent applicants who lived near enough for the job. Beth was a local, moved here since Christmas, but Mason lived about twenty minutes away. Confined to a small town, I hadn’t really considered the distant applicants who’d shown interest in my online posting. If they weren’t here or nearby, I didn’t want to expect someone to relocate to my hometown for seasonal work.

I sighed, dismissing the stress that came with new hires and figuring out the math of new staff. If the two new additions weren’t going to stick around, it would probably be better to be at least somewhat selective in what new jobs I took on for us.

As I pulled up to the curb in front of Robbie Richmond’s single-story brick home, I shelved those thoughts and got ready to face the client. His navy-blue SUV was indeed parked in the driveway.

I zipped up my sweatshirt, hiding my Eric Clapton t-shirt, as I strode up to his front door, clipboard in hand.

Can’t wait for warmer mornings. We hadn’t had a horrible winter, and with that moderate season, it seemed my work would begin sooner than later and with vigor. Sprouts of narcissus were already poking through the sheet-like surface of the dirt along his sidewalk.

I knocked, slightly bouncing in my step to stay warm as I stood on his stoop. Mail was wedged in the flap to the box next to the door. A few more seconds passed, bringing a whip of nippy air, and I shivered anew as a yellow envelope flittered from the bunch sticking out of the box.

Jeez. Was he sleeping in, or what? It wasn’t that early. Come summer, heck, come another month or so—depending on the weather and spring thaw—I’d have my crew starting earlier than this 9:30 nonsense

Mr. Richmond? Robbie? I asked as I knocked again. It’s Madis, here for the landscaping consult and quote.

Finally, a sound. It didn’t come from within his house but next to it.

Gene!

I grimaced at the snarl in the woman’s voice.

Glancing over, I saw a man pausing at a car in the neighbor’s driveway. He sighed, his shoulders sagging. Behind him, a blonde dragged a garbage can toward the street’s edge, the wheels stuck and scraping along the driveway to the house.

I told you yesterday I want that screen door fixed. The stupid dog busted through again!

I’ll look at it tonight, Holly. He got in and drove off, and I was surprised he didn’t burn rubber getting away from that grouchy woman—probably his wife.

What a cheery marriage.

You looking for Robbie? she asked, spotting me. I flinched, being caught watching her nag Gene so forcefully.

No. I’m just here calling out for him for the sport of it. Yep.

She glanced at my truck, likely reading the magnetic decal of MH Landscaping I’d stuck to the driver’s door.

She harrumphed and continued back to her home with the can. You going to do something with that gnarly mess along my fence?

I stepped off the stoop and walked toward the space between Robbie’s house and this woman’s. I imagine he already intended just that. He mentioned an ivy problem along the side of his yard.

Problem. She rolled her eyes. "It’s a mess. Right where my kitchen window looks out. Pausing, she slid her hand in front of her face, her gaudy wedding ring glinting in the sunlight. Like a dang wall of twisted weeds. All I can see."

That doesn’t sound like a great vista. My people skills were lacking most days, but I’d learned that simple agreements and sympathy could go a long way.

She nodded. "Of course, it’d be nice if those weeds blocked off other areas, like my bedroom window."

Ugh. Robbie’s a Peeping Tom?

But, no, it’s gotta be at the kitchen window. Right above the sink!

I nodded and glanced back at Robbie’s front door. Still no one there.

Well— I paused and offered my hand. I’m Madis.

Your company? She shook my hand, barely squeezing it, like a child or indifferent person might. Then she tilted her head toward my truck.

Yep.

She pursed her lips. Hmm. I’m Holly Werner.

Nice to meet you. Once more, I looked at Robbie’s door. There wasn’t even a light on in the house. Looks like he’s not home, but I can check out the yard in the back. Hopefully, he’ll get back with me, and we can discuss the ivy on the fence between your homes.

That’d be nice. If she hadn’t said it so curtly, I wouldn’t have been so happy to see her retreat. See you around.

I waved and went through the slightly narrow space between Robbie’s garage and their split-level fence.

It was always something about the neighbors. Complaints about the other’s yard or requests to one-up each other, it never failed. I wanted to shop around for a house, but no close neighbors, please. I didn’t need the hassle.

Past the garage, the space opened up significantly. A decent lawn that Jon could knock out easily with the stand-behind mower, the used machine Kent anticipated dying soon. To the east, there were evergreen bushes, some box hedges that hadn’t been trimmed in years. Last year’s hosta leaves lay gnarled and slimy on the bare dirt of a bed. Without any mulch, I could see tulips pushing up. Daffodils were already budding to bloom.

Close to me, on this side of the yard nearest Holly’s home, I scanned a messy array of half-dead shrubs and the English ivy trailing all over everything. Including a shoe?

Huh?

I stepped forward, my gaze locked on the gray and green sneaker. A running shoe, something expensive by the look of it. Tucked under a swath of English ivy, it poked upright.

Weird, because if a shoe was on the ground, how would