“I’m sure,” Doreen said with a nod. “How did he die?”
“He just up and disappeared one day,” the woman said in a shocking announcement to Doreen. Marsha’s phone rang at that time. She looked up at Doreen and said, “Sorry, but I’ve got to answer this.” She had her phone at her ear as she walked toward the front steps into her house, leaving Doreen standing in shock.
Chapter 23
Tuesday Afternoon …
Doreen headed off in a daze. She was struggling to believe what she just learned. She needed more information, but it was obviously not the right time. As she watched, her own phone rang. She looked to see it was Mack. Before he had a chance to speak, she quickly related what she heard.
“What? Seriously?”
“Yes,” she said. “Not only were all four women contestants last year in the annual tropical fruit growing contest at the local fair,” she said in exasperation, “but all four are dead. And Marsha said that growing the kiwis is the reason that she’s become more alive again after losing her husband ten years ago.”
“Well, I guess if anything’ll help that, growing something might,” he said doubtfully, as if not understanding the attraction for kiwis at all.
“But he didn’t die,” she said. “When I asked her, she said he just disappeared one day to the next.”
Silence.
“Don’t you think that’s suspicious because Rosie’s husband did the same thing ten years ago?”
“Maybe,” he said slowly. “But remember, in evidence, none are assumptions.”
“We must have assumptions,” she argued, “in order to get the evidence.”
“Yes, and no,” he said.
“Why did you call anyway?” she asked, not wanting to argue right now.
“Mostly because we just found out that Rosie’s husband might be alive.”
“Of course he is,” she said. “Maybe you’ll find out that this Marsha woman’s husband is alive too.”
He snorted. “Not likely,” he said. “Lightning rarely strikes in the same place twice.”
“No,” she said. “Yet we have four little gray-haired ladies all dead with seemingly heart attacks from one moment to the next. And what are the odds of all of them having entered this same contest? It’s not that I would expect them to never enter any contest,” she said, waving her hand around as she and her animals crossed the street, caught up in her conversation with Mack. “But just think about it. That same contest.”
“Do you really think Marsha killed them all to make sure she was the clear-cut winner?”
“No. She seemed clearly surprised to hear of Rosie’s death.” Doreen thought about the way the woman had smiled over the mention of her kiwis. “I don’t think that at all. I don’t know what to think,” she said in dismay. “But, if one had entered the pie-making contest, and one was in the jam contest, and one was in the celery-growing contest or some godforsaken thing, you would still pick up the fact that all four were big fans of the local fair. But the fact that they were all part of the kiwi-growing contest is just plain weird. I’m not even sure kiwi is growable in Kelowna,” she added after a moment.
“I hear you,” he said. “Maybe do some research on that for me.”
“I can do that,” she said, smiling, because most of the time Mack told her to disappear and to not find research forums.
“Have you ever grown any kiwis?”
“No,” she said. “I haven’t done any vegetable or fruit growing. I was thinking that it would be fun.”
“I think it would be,” he said. “And that you could eat it too.”
She brightened at that. “Funny. I mean, when I was talking about growing vegetables, I wasn’t making the connection about eating them. But having food available? That’s huge.”
“It is,” he said. “If nothing else, you could plant at least some salad greens.”
“I’d have to see where I could put something,” she said, picking up the pace so that she could get home faster. “But I really like that idea. I don’t know how expensive seeds are though.”
“Seeds are cheap. I might have some hanging around at Mom’s place,” he said. “She’ll never use them.”
“Well, it’s only Tuesday. I could ask when I go over on Friday,” she said.
“Do that,” he said. “Spinach and lettuce are easy, and so are radishes. You can always do a pot of chives too.”
She grinned. “You know what? I don’t know why I never even thought of a vegetable garden,” she said. “I spent a lot of my time growing perennials and annuals and making sure the garden was perfect, but I never grew anything that we could eat.”
“Well, now you have something else to do. And maybe that’s exactly what you need,” he said, “something else to keep your mind off the problems in your world.”
“I don’t have any problems,” she said. “As a matter of fact, right now my world is pretty well perfect. You should see the deck and the concrete now. I still have all that gravel to move, and that’ll be a real pain, but I was trying to figure out if I needed to put something underneath it first.”
“Not if it’ll be right along the edge of the concrete,” he said. “You may want to dig it back a little bit deeper to stop any of the weeds coming through. I think they say about six inches, but I can give you a hand with that, if you want to wait until the weekend.”
“I’ll see,” she said. “You’ve done so much for me already. I don’t even know how I can thank you.”
“How about by butting out of my cases,” he said.
“Anything but that,” she said cheerfully. “But I will do some research into the kiwis. I just think a whole lot more is going on here that needs to come to light before we solve this.”
“And we need the
