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Authors: Alyse Carlson

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BOOK: The Azalea Assault
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When she got to the station, she was irritated but not surprised to find Jake had found some other priority, so she wrote him a note and left the CD with pictures and her azalea summary for him. The poor deputy she scowled at looked afraid, but she knew that wouldn’t get her anywhere with Jake.

A
t Samantha’s house, Cam rang the bell, but nobody answered. There had been plenty of time for Samantha to return from her lunch. It was past three. Cam knew, however, Samantha spent a lot of time in her yard, so she walked around the side of the house.

Instead of Samantha, she found Joseph, glove-clad and pruning.

“Hi, Joseph! Where’s Samantha? I would have thought you’d be with her.”

“She went back into town to buy some line. One of her climbing roses needs some therapy after that storm. I let her
know at lunch.” That seemed odd, as Samantha was the one who had invited her to come back, and Cam wondered if Samantha had been disingenuous, but she decided to accept it as just a timing flaw.

“So you’re helping her get it sorted again?”

“Trying. It’s a big yard for just Samantha.”

“Henry and Benny help, don’t they?”

“Oh, they do, but I like to help, too.”

“Do you ever work with them? Henry and Benny, I mean.”

“On occasion, mostly during planting season. Why?”

“Ever see Benny… acting funny?”

“Oh, Cam, I find almost everything young people do funny, and I don’t mean amusing.” He paused awkwardly. “Not you, of course, but…”

Cam tried to smile reassuringly. She knew what he meant because she knew how he was. He was prim and old-fashioned. She needed to get to her point.

“I mean… suspicious?”

He stared at her for a moment, as if trying to read her intent. “I guess, maybe. I usually see him lurking near greenhouse one at the Patricks’.”

“Lurking?”

“Lurking might be wrong. He is just there a lot. I thought maybe he fancied the winter plants—a little dark and morose? Isn’t that what young people like?”

Gears turned in Cam’s mind. The camera had been found in the “Winter” greenhouse. And Benny’s prints were on the camera. Perhaps the greenhouse had a view of the hot tub or something. “I suppose some young people might. I’ve always liked spring myself. Did you ever see him in there with a camera?”

“Benny? Why would Benny be photographing… wait… camera?” Joseph turned and stared at Cam, shocked at the idea.

“Is there something else strange about a camera? Are you thinking of Jean-Jacques, maybe?” Cam tried to draw out what Joseph had found so odd.

“Well, that’s who I’d have expected to be connected to any questions about cameras.”

“Was Jean-Jacques taking pictures
here
?”

“Hardly! Not a one! In spite of my showing off Samantha’s gorgeous garden. I even asked him, and he said gardens didn’t interest him. It’s unfathomable, really, what with her
Chionodoxa gigantea
and the way she’s coaxed it to keep blooming into April… in zone seven!”

Cam thought Joseph had entirely missed her point about the strange pictures at the Patricks’. She needed to get him back on topic.

“Do you think… um… Jean-Jacques was inappropriate with Evangeline?”

Joseph looked confused by the question. “I can’t say I noticed one way or the other. I suppose they seemed friendly.”

“You don’t feel a little protective of Evangeline, too?”

“Oh, Evangeline has Neil! She doesn’t need me.”

Cam tried to assimilate what she’d just learned from Joseph. He seemed very protective of Samantha. Had he been angry at the way Jean-Jacques had taken advantage of her financially? Maybe, although Cam had a very hard time picturing Joseph having enough initiative to commit murder. The protective-admirer angle also gave an additional motive for Benny, whose crush on Evangeline might have led him to act out over Jean-Jacques’s attentions to her. And after what Cam had learned recently about Mr. Patrick’s outrage at Jean-Jacques the morning of the murder, perhaps he’d had a protection motive as well.

It was a tragedy, really, if Benny had done this. Cam felt sure if he had, he wasn’t really able to understand right from wrong… Then again, maybe Benny’s crush on Evangeline hadn’t been the motive after all. Maybe Benny had seen Ian kill Jean-Jacques and then tried to blackmail Ian. That would explain the money changing hands!

“Cam?” Joseph’s voice startled her out of her musings.

“Sorry, Joseph. I haven’t had enough sleep lately. I’m just daydreaming.”

She didn’t want Joseph to think she was losing it. She went on to her next loose end.

“You wouldn’t know who might have something against Annie, would you?”

“Well,
I am
the one who got poisoned!” Joseph sputtered.

“Annie didn’t do that. I’m hoping some of the pictures might show who did, if anybody. You know, Barney’s reaction to the brownies had nothing to do with poison; chocolate is toxic to dogs.” She held her tongue that she was sure he’d been unwell before the brownies were served. There was no need to be confrontational.

“Pictures?”

Cam stared. She’d been sure he’d be more interested in the poison.

“Annie took pictures at the party all night,” she replied.

“Oh, yes. I hope they help.”

“I’m sure the police will tell us.”

“Let’s hope so.” He smiled. “I hear Samantha now!”

He seemed awfully excited, considering his next suggestion was that Cam go in and talk to Samantha on her own. He wanted to keep pruning. She knew social interactions were a strain on him, and he was probably just tired of being so social, but he could be terribly abrupt.

She left him to his bushes.

CHAPTER 16

“C
am! What a nice surprise!”

“Hi, Samantha.” Cam frowned. She was under the impression she’d been expected. As she climbed the stairs from the lower level, however, she smiled, truly happy to see Samantha again, largely because she felt ready to burst.

Samantha wasn’t at all like Cam’s mother, but she seemed to care in a maternal way, and at the moment, that was just what Cam needed, along with a little sanity.

“It’s almost five. Gin and tonic?” No, nothing like her mother at all.

“I’d love one. Weak, though. I have Annie’s car.” She glanced at her watch. Ten after four really wasn’t almost five, but who was counting?

Samantha’s version of a weak gin and tonic was on the medium-strong side to Cam, but she thought one wouldn’t hurt.

Samantha excused herself then, to double-check that Joseph’s feathers weren’t ruffled and take him the twine she’d just bought.

Cam picked up her drink and wandered, looking at Samantha’s art and souvenirs from her travels. There were
a few tasteful masks and drums, along with paintings and baskets, all of which Cam thought were probably from Africa. She lifted the lid of what she thought was an Egyptian jar, if the hieroglyphs were any indication. Inside she found a memory card. She frowned, but the chance of it being
the
missing memory card was very slim.

Samantha returned with some water crackers, a wedge of Brie, and a small dish of roe.

“Caviar!”

“I know. We should drink vodka, which I am embarrassingly low on. Joseph won’t eat caviar with me, though, and I can’t afford to feed a big party, so indulge me.”

Cam thought Samantha could afford it, but it would be pretentious for a large affair, so she didn’t argue. She was too curious not to try it, at any rate. She put some on a corner of cracker and took a bite, then squealed.

“It’s so salty!”

Samantha’s smile grew. “You’ve never had it before?”

Cam shook her head as she’d filled her mouth with gin and tonic to balance the flavor.

“Oh, I adore it… about three times a year. It’s too much for a frequent snack, but I’m just so delighted Joseph didn’t scare you off this morning. I was worried he had.”

“Why?” The gin, almost gone from her glass far more quickly than she’d intended, had made her blurt the thought she normally would have filtered.

Samantha seemed to misunderstand her question. “It reminds me a little of when Evangeline used to come by…” She trailed off, then seemed to skip ahead. “She’s married now and does it so seldom anymore. I guess I like having a”—Cam prepared to hear the word “daughter” or “protégée” but instead got—“younger sister of sorts. My own sister hasn’t talked to me in a long time, even with her ex-husband’s recent passing.”

Cam thought Samantha must have had wine for lunch. She normally wasn’t quite so forthcoming.

“Were they Jean-Jacques’s parents?”

Samantha nodded sadly. “Margo, Johnnie’s sister, was quite distraught—she was closer to her dad than I knew—and that falling out at the end.” Samantha’s face looked distant for a moment. “My sister and I fell out over Johnnie’s discipline. Margaret, my sister, was a bit of a con artist, and he picked up the trait. In college Johnnie tried to convince me to pay his tuition—cash. His father, I learned recently, was willing to pay for all of it, though only directly to the university. I thought he was out of the picture, but he didn’t want to be. I’m convinced to this day Johnnie and Margaret were just trying to get money from me.”

“But… I thought Jean-Jacques owed you a lot.” After she’d said it, she hoped it wasn’t offensive, but Samantha took it in stride.

“He did. I paid directly to the school for a one-year photography course, not a cheap one! And I bought his equipment, very
good
equipment. I wanted him to have a vocation.”

“He did well with it.”

Samantha took a rather large drink and savored it in her mouth a moment before continuing.

“I suspect the field is conducive to the con. Tell some tall tales to get in somewhere impressive, then suddenly you actually get some impressive shots. Pretend you are an event photographer, suddenly you’ve met the important people. I know he had real talent—that was obvious—but his talent with the con helped him as much as his photography skill.”

“That makes sense, actually.” Cam remembered Annie’s comments about him. They suddenly seemed insightful, rather than snarky. Annie would never stoop to a con job. In fact, she hid her connections when they might actually open doors, embarrassed about any unearned privilege. “He really did take great pictures, though.”

“That’s the thing about a con. It can go on only as long as you don’t get caught, and if you can’t follow through, you will get caught. If I didn’t know he was really good, I wouldn’t have had him come for our shoot.”

As Cam contemplated that, Samantha sniffed and began mumbling about being to blame for Jean-Jacques’s death.

“Samantha, it’s not your fault. He made a lot of people mad, and that wasn’t on you. They don’t have the right person yet, though. I’m sure they don’t. I was wondering if I could run some ideas by you.”

“You mean you think I’m trustworthy?” She poured herself another drink and turned to look at Cam, a strange expression on her face.

“Of course I do. You obviously wanted the best for Jean-Jacques, even if he screwed up a lot.”

“That’s true. I loved him in spite of everything. Why don’t you think…” Samantha paused, then her eyes widened.

“What?”

Samantha looked momentarily mortified, then went on.

“Joseph’s so sure it’s Annie… with Ian’s accusations… and then poisoning the brownies… She was there that morning, you know. And with Alden for a father—that couldn’t help.”

Cam frowned. She thought Samantha had changed subjects, but the new one was interesting, too. Alden was Annie’s dad. Cam hadn’t known there was any controversy surrounding Senator Schulz, much less that Samantha was on a first-name basis with him. She took a breath for patience.

“Okay, I helped bake the brownies, and they were fine. Chocolate is toxic to dogs, and Joseph looked sick all night—there is photographic proof, though I’d prefer you didn’t mention it to him; I just think it might offend him. And… I would think judging people based on their families would be something people would know better than to do.” Cam worried she’d just been rude again and considered gin might not be her wisest drink choice.

Samantha blushed. “Oh, I do. Please don’t misunderstand, but with what Ian said… then Ian ending up dead…”

“I am one hundred percent convinced Ian is dead because he planted the idea that Annie killed Jean-Jacques and the killer thought that was a smart way to go—to frame the
person who’d been accused, so the police would stop searching elsewhere.”

Samantha looked momentarily shocked, then recovered with a swig of gin. “Okay—so if not Annie, who do you think the killer is? And how do you think I can help you solve this?”

“You remember, this morning we talked a little about Jean-Jacques, Evangeline… and Nick? But I’m also interested in what Evangeline and Jean-Jacques’s friendship was like—back when they were young.”

“You don’t think… Evangeline?” She seemed deliciously scandalized.

“No! I mean… I don’t think so. I’m just trying to get my bearings.”

“Oh, I see. I think she thought of him like… her naughty friend—the one she could get in trouble with and not get caught. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time, but it’s true. I wouldn’t have told her parents. In fact, between you and me, I encouraged her to do the pageants so she’d be more careful about… keeping out of trouble. I knew she did some bad things, and I could see she enjoyed it more than was a good idea. But I also knew the lesson would stick better if it was her decision. Not a lecture.”

“Really?” Cam would have been shocked had Evangeline not already mentioned her need to go a little wild after college, but it did raise the question of whether Evangeline was completely reformed.

“I really liked her! Still do. I was thankful, too, since Johnnie was so unmanageable without her. I worried about his influence, though. I didn’t want her sneaking off to get high and getting arrested or worse… pregnant! She’s smart and so pretty! I guess I was trying to ensure her future.”

“And it worked.”

Samantha nodded sadly. “But it gave me false confidence in how much I could control. First I helped Margo—and I think I really did—she ended up with a full scholarship because of the opportunities I gave her. Then I helped
Evangeline, at least… well, I thought I did. I thought I could help Johnnie, too.”

BOOK: The Azalea Assault
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