Pushing Up Daisies

'It won't be. Now I will tell you two things that will make you angry all over again.'

I looked up and waited for the other shoe to drop. He's married with five kids? 'zComo fue ahora?' I asked cautiously.

'Hugo speaks English better than I do. He taught me how to read it when we were kids.'

'You're kidding?'

He shook his head. Then he reached into his pocket and took something out. A green plastic tie, about twelve inches long.

'I'm out of bread?'

'This was on the door handle. Your green house mishap? It was not an accident.'

'Someone tried to kill me with a piece of twist tie?'

'Not kill you. Scare you. Or at least put you out of commission for a while. And it's not a twist tie.'

It wasn't. It was a thick plastic tie, the kind used to secure electric cords on factory-packed appliances. The kind you can't pull apart.

'Don't be silly. It must have already been on the door handle and got caught when I fell down in the greenhouse,' I said reasonably. 'Besides, who'd want to scare me? A rival gardener? If one of them really wanted to scare me, he'd bring over a bucket of banana slugs. Have you ever seen them?'

'Okay. Here. Keep it as a souvenir.' He finished his wine and pushed away from the table. 'Now it's late, and I have a new, very demanding boss to answer to.'

'You didn't eat much.'

'Well, midnight is a little late for dinner, maybe not for Brazilians, but it is for humble Mexican laborers. I'd appreciate it if you don't tell anyone my little secret just yet.'

He took his time walking downstairs. At the door, he brushed my still-damp hair away from my face and kissed me on the cheek. Then he bent down again, aiming for the lips this time. I tensed a bit, but let it happen.

'Buenas noches, maestra. Don't forget to charge your phone.'

I closed the door behind me and let out a deep breath. I was dying to tell Lucy. I plugged in my phone, but it was too late to call without either worrying her or interrupting something, so I went online on the outside chance she'd be surfing. No luck. I deleted the daily messages from that pain-in-the-ass reporter from the Bulletin, and forty-seven junk e-mails. Although it's as risky as unprotected sex, sometimes I take a chance and check out the unsolicited gardening or fitness ones: Build a pond in two hours! Check your body mass index. I took a flyer and clicked on Free garden plans! and waited for the message to load. . . .

Framed by squiggly lines meant to look like electricity, it was a picture of a shovel inside a red circle with a slash through it. Here's a plan . . . be careful where you dig.

CHAPTER 14

The smell of French toast and frying bacon hung in the air like smog; it was warm and welcoming. I was getting to love it. After only two hours' sleep, I climbed on the counter stool slowly, carefully, like an old person afraid of breaking something. Without my asking, Babe brought me a mug of coffee and told Pete to fix me the morning-after special.

'What happened to you?'

'You want the long version or the short version?'

'Start with the short version.'

Counting off on my fingers I said, 'Worked like a dog yesterday, got trapped in the green house, got rescued by Felix, got kissed by Felix, got no sleep—except for a few hours on a moldy potting table. Oh, yeah, and I got another dozen messages from that jerk at the Bulletin and a weird e-mail.'

'Does the 'no sleep' mean what I hope it means?'

'Dream on,' I said, twisting my torso in a long stretch. I could hear the bones and muscles creak.

'I know a great massage therapist who can fix that.'

We both waited for the caffeine to kick in.

'Since there doesn't seem to be anything juicier, tell me about the kiss,' she said.

'It was friendly. Mostly.' I guzzled the coffee like it was a drug.

'Tongue?'

'Have you ever had a friendly tongue kiss?'

'Yes, as a matter of fact, but that's my story. I want to hear yours.'

I told Babe about the previous night, leaving out Felix's family history. If it was true, it wasn't up to me to blow his cover, and if it wasn't, I'd feel like less of sap for having believed him. 'He followed me home to make sure I was okay. We talked, had some wine, a little food, and then, as he was leaving'—I leaned in, and lowered my voice—'he kissed me.'

'Bodies touch?' she asked.

'I didn't film it. It was fast. . . . They may have touched. A little. They touched a little.'

'So, now that he's followed you home, are you going to keep him?'

'Hey, the only things I want to keep right now are my house, my business, and my sanity. The last thing I need is another complication. Ever since the baby . . .' I sputtered. 'Finding that body has been like having a baby.' I looked around surreptitiously. 'Last night Felix suggested I was locked in the green house intentionally. And I got a stupid crank e-mail from someone trying to scare me. That'll teach me to leave my business card just anywhere. Now I'll have to change my e-mail address, and that'll be another pain in the ass.' Even I knew I was escalating into hysteria.

'I'm just as curious as the next person,' I said, breathing deeply to calm myself, 'but if Springfield's finest think there's no case here, there's no case, right? People around here are getting carried away.'

'Settle down. Someone might think you're one of the people getting carried away.'

Mercifully, the food came. Who knew cinnamon toast had such curative powers? It was no substitute for a hot tub and a good night's sleep, but it helped bring me back to center. And if my mouth was full, it reduced the chances that I'd have another meltdown.

Babe plucked something from the Paradise bulletin board and dropped it near my plate. 'Despite the fact that you've maligned my bulletin board, I'm gonna give you this. Here's the name and number for that massage therapist. Make an appointment, honey. You need it.' She patted my hand and went off to chat with other more rational customers.

I did need it. And I needed something else I didn't like to admit. Sex had never been all that great between Chris and me; there were more than a few nights I was left staring at the ceiling thinking clematis when I should have been thinking clitoris. Especially toward the end. Even so, when you don't have it, you damn well miss it.

Exercise helped, but recently working in the garden had taken the place of serious weight training, so I was also missing that endorphin high. I decided to go back home and pump some iron before heading to Halcyon.

'Babe, I don't know what Pete put on this bread, but I feel a lot better already.'

'Who knows? He's been watching the Food Network for two solid days.' She motioned to the business card near my toast. 'You gonna call my pal or what?'

I looked at the card—tasteful aqua and cream—

* * *

I nodded and pocketed the card.

'Yes, ma'am. After a nice, long workout. I'm taking the morning off.'

'That's my girl.'

For the first time in a week, I was doing exactly what I wanted. Back home, I put on some music and wiped down my tag-sale bench and weights. For the next sixty minutes, I sweated, grunted, and thought only about my body in terms of muscle groups—chest, arms, back, and legs. I finished up by hitting the Fat Boy punching bag for