Dead in the Shed, Title Page

Dead in the Shed
A Florida garden mystery


Alma J. Bush

Graphics by T. Thompson
Special thanks to Ann Wagner


Ft. Myers, Florida
2009

Library of Congress Control Number: 2009909150

The Gardens at Palm City Park

Dedicated to the Gardeners of Lakes Regional Park
Master Gardeners of Lee County, Florida, and plant lovers everywhere.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or places is coincidental.

Dead in the Shed, Acknowledgements

Alma Bush lives in Fort Myers, Florida where she and David, her husband, work as volunteer gardeners. She is a member of Gulf Coast Writers’ Association. David is a Master Gardener through the University of Florida Extension Service and helped with plant names in the book.
Tom Thompson of Tallmadge, Ohio, is a graphic artist and web master for the Ellet High School Class of 1968 website. Tom volunteered his talents to help Alma, a classmate.
Ann Wagner, a Florida Master Gardener, is a retired high school English teacher who volunteered to edit and proofread the book. She and her husband, Jim Penn, live in Fort Myers, Florida and enjoy visiting family and friends.



Fort Myers, Florida
2009
A.J. Bush, Publisher

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 1

Edna popped her head out of the weeds when she heard Missy screaming, “Call 911. Call 911. It’s Russ--in the potting shed--call 911.”
Missy ran past her out of the garden toward the parking lot. Her hands were bloody.
Edna couldn’t understand why Missy was running toward Hazel Velez’ office when she knew that Missy carried her cell phone in her pocket. Edna ran toward the potting shed. She thought she could help Russ stop the bleeding from whatever accident had caused the bleeding.
When Edna reached the screened potting shed, she couldn’t see Russ standing near his bench. Instead, she saw one of his sandals, toe pointed up, sticking out of the shed door. She went forward to see Russ lying on his back with his blue eyes wide open and vacant. Streaks of red painted his white hair. He had a large gash on his neck that was blackish and bloody.
Edna staggered backward and when she felt her knees buckle, she sat down on the grass. Missy’s voice saying “Call 9-1-1” echoed a few times in Edna’s head until she pulled out her cell phone from her pocket and dialed.
“There’s been an accident here. In the potting shed. A man--he might be dead. At the park, Palm Lake Park off Gladiolus near U.S. 41. Russ. I forget his last name. Mine? Edna Cameron. OK.”
She closed her cell phone and looked around her. It was impossible that this could happen here. It was beautiful here. People loved the park. They came here to have fun.
Edna’s strength was coming back in her legs. Something struck her as odd about Russ’s head, so she forced herself to have another look. She was right. Russ had money, four or five bills, under his head. They looked like all small bills, one’s and five’s maybe. Beside the money was a pair of pruning shears with the tips covered in blood.
“Could it be murder?” she thought. “Paul, I have to call Paul.”
Paul, her husband, was somewhere in the garden driving the cart they used for chores. He was the lead volunteer, a job he had very much wanted so he could practice his skills as a new Senior Gardener.
“Pick up, pick up. Paul, you won’t believe this. Russ is dead in the potting shed. I think I’m going to throw up. Come quick, OK?”
Edna looked around the lush garden. Everything looked so normal, so calm. Jack, with his goofy hat, was in the Cactus Garden like normal. Betty was in the Peace Garden weeding like normal. Mona would have been nearby in the Pond Garden, but, as usual, she skipped Saturdays, and came on Wednesdays only.
Paul drove up on the cart from the direction of the Rose Garden. He bumped his head getting out of the cart. Edna wondered when he would remember that he was 6 ft. 3in. tall. He was always banging up his bald head.
“I just left here a few minutes ago. He was fine. What happened?”

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 2

Within minutes, Missy and the park director, Hazel Velez, arrived in Hazel’s cart. Behind them were the Iona-McGregor Fire District ambulance, and the Lee County Sheriff and Ft. Myers Police patrol cars. Edna saw Hazel shake her head when the cars made muddy ruts through the grass.
Paul intercepted Hazel as she jumped out of the cart. She looked the size of a fifth grader standing next to Paul.
“You probably shouldn’t look,” Paul said firmly.
“Why? What? Oh, no!” Hazel said. Her brown eyes froze open.
Missy gasped, and then she cried in waves of sobs. Hazel sat with her in the cart.
Betty and Jack walked from the clearing in front of the Cactus Garden. Charly, a new volunteer who had started that morning, came down the path toting a bucket of weeds. She took off her ball cap and wiped the sweat through her short gray hair.
“Who is in charge here?” asked a sheriff’s deputy.
“That would be me,” Hazel said as she looked up. She’d been holding her head and gazing at her knees.
“I am going to ask everyone to stay here until we collect your statements. You all can wait over there.
He pointed to the Rose Garden gazebo on the southeast side of the garden. As they all walked in silence to the picnic table inside the gazebo, Hazel recovered her thinking well enough to offer to get Russ’s volunteer information file from her office. One of the officers went with her in her cart.
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t know if I can cope with this. I’m exhausted from that plant sale yesterday. We didn’t get out of here until after 6:30,” Betty said.
Everyone else groaned in agreement.
As they sat waiting for the officers, Edna’s mind wandered back to the first day she and Paul volunteered at the park. Two months earlier, they had met with the other volunteers in the same Rose Garden gazebo. That same morning, a group of people, some walking arm-in-arm, had followed a bagpiper to the Rose Garden circle. Betty and Missy explained that the ceremony was a memorial tribute.
“Bagpipes always make me cry.” Betty had said.
Missy had a comment, too, “Those bricks, several of them, were murder victims. That’s why we have some creepy things going on around here--restless spirits, you know.”
“Now, it looks like Russ’s name could be on the next brick added to the Rose Garden,” Edna thought.
“We were so close,” Missy said. “I was hoping that someday, after he was over his dead wife, that maybe we’d get together, be more than friends.”
Missy’s blonde hair reminded Edna of the pond waterfall. Her hair spilled over her folded arms as she put her head down on the picnic table. Betty patted Missy’s back.
“This is my first day. It’s only 9:30 a.m. I can’t believe my rotten luck!” Charly said.
The sheriff’s deputy came to the gazebo to start his questions.
“Was there any amount of money kept in this area?” he asked.
Paul spoke first, “We had some petty cash for the plant sale yesterday, but after the sale, Betty deposited the money. You took care of that, didn’t you, Betty?”
Betty looked at Jack. The two had started dating two weeks earlier. Her eyes opened wide.
“Betty and I were late for our dinner, and I thought, just overnight, that I’d put the money in the shed until 11:00 today when we could swing by the bank and deposit it,” Jack said.
“Show me where you put it,” said the officer.
Jack took the deputy to the tool shed next to the potting shed. The volunteers kept their “coffee club” supplies in a plastic bin in back. He produced a small can and opened it. Edna could see that it was empty.
After Betty stopped patting Missy’s back, she asked Edna what was happening in the shed.
“We worked our butts off, and now the money is gone?” Betty said, after Edna told her about the empty can. ”This is a nightmare.”
The deputy examined the small lock on the tool shed door. It was a pitiful thing that didn’t work. A screwdriver might have made the fresh scratches on the lock and latch, but any crook worth his title could have just given the old relic a twist to open it.
After collecting names, addresses and brief statements from the gardeners, the deputy dismissed the group.
“Expect a call from Detective Brandon Brumbaugh. He’ll have questions for all of you.”
Paul’s forehead wrinkled in the middle. He didn’t say anything and walked over to lock up the tool shed. As Edna and Paul went toward the parking lot, she pulled him toward the white wedding gazebo.
“I need this,” she said. “Aroma therapy--I need it bad.”
She stuck her head inside a gardenia bush brushing the plant with her short dark hair. She inhaled the intoxicating fragrance. She pinched off a bloom and sniffed the flower on the short drive home. She put it in a shallow dish of water by the kitchen sink. Then she took a bite of a Milky Way she had kept in the refrigerator and stuck it back in the empty butter dish. How she stayed thin was a mystery even to her.
“That detective’s name is familiar. I think he knows Joe.”
Joe Grimaldi was Edna’s son and Paul’s stepson who lived nearby in Naples.
Paul didn’t answer. He was lost in thought, no doubt about the garden. Edna kept seeing a vision of Russ’s body on the floor of the shed with the money tucked under his head. The grizzly mental image kept repeating and no amount of dog brushing or floor sweeping could make it go away.
After seeing an actual murder scene, she had a burst of admiration for the reporters she used to work with when she was the newsroom librarian for the Daily Record in Denton, Ohio. For twelve years, she had filed stories about the murder scenes that the reporters had to cover. Now she understood why they could be so quiet or moody.
One thing she gained at the paper was an appreciation for an orderly presentation of facts. She had heard the editor chew out many young reporters for getting information twisted or skipping important details.
Something was wrong with the details of Russ’s death. Edna felt it in the inky part of her newsroom veins.
“It is just like the Lucky Leprechaun contest,” she thought.
The advertising department held an annual spring event to increase readership. In one ad somewhere in the Daily Record, the composing room embedded the Lucky Leprechaun in an odd place. He could be standing up, lying down, or peeking around an object in the ad. If subscribers found it, they could enter a drawing that week to win a $100 gift card to Buehler’s food store.
“That money shouldn’t have been under Russ’s head,” Edna thought. “It’s the piece of the picture that doesn’t belong there.”

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 3

Around 10:00 the next morning, a young man in a blue suit, Brumbaugh all grown up, knocked on Edna and Paul’s door. A tall, slim brunette woman in a police uniform stood at his side with a notebook in her hand.
“I’m Detective Brandon Brumbaugh. This is Sergeant Ronda Miori. We need to ask you some questions about Russ McGovern’s death.”

Edna studied Brumbaugh for a moment. His red hair surrounded a familiar face that looked fuller than she remembered.
“I think we met many years ago through my son, Joe, Joe Grimaldi,” Edna said to Brumbaugh.
“Oh, you’re Joe’s mom. I had heard you moved here full time.”
“I’m sorry about your brother Tom. I hope this war will end--now,” Edna said.
“Thanks.”
The detectives started their questions once they sat in the living room. Miori took abundant notes stopping occasionally to look at either Edna or Paul. Miori showed no expression.
“Another witness says that you passed her in the cart a few minutes before the body was found,” Brumbaugh said to Paul. “Explain that.”
Paul swallowed hard and didn’t answer. Edna twisted in her chair.
“Mr. Cameron, your answer?”
“Well, yes, I went by. Let me think. Oh, yes, I needed a shovel from the tool shed,” Paul said.
“Did you see Russ in the potting shed?” Brumbaugh asked.
“Honestly, I didn’t look. He’s usually there,” Paul replied.
“Edna, in your statement, you said that you ran to the potting shed after seeing Missy. Did you see anything unusual around there?” Brumbaugh asked.
“I’ll tell you what’s unusual. The money under Russ’s head--that’s what,” Edna said. “It looked to me like someone stuck it there.”
“Mrs. Cameron, we investigate all parts of a crime,” Miori said.
Brumbaugh said goodbye, promising more questions. Miori cast an icy look as they left.
“It’s going to be OK,” said Paul.
“I hope so,” said Edna releasing him from a hug. “That chick is pretty intense. I wonder what it must be like for her to get ready in the morning. Let’s see--makeup, lipstick, handcuffs, so yes, gun.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” Paul said.
That was his standard remark when he didn’t want to talk at all. He went to do some work in the back yard. Weed pulling gave him a place to focus his tension. Edna was glad the weeds were meeting their demise
“Weed killer! Oh, no,” thought Edna.
Paul and Russ had gotten in an argument over weed killer about ten days earlier. Russ thought Paul had made the mistake of putting weed killer in a spray bottle marked “plant food.” Since Paul was the only volunteer who mixed chemicals, Russ thought Paul should have all the blame for ruining some of the plant sale items. Edna and almost everyone else heard their argument with the final remark of Russ calling Paul “a lying son of a bitch.” Edna was sure they both apologized when their tempers cooled.
“Missy will certainly remember it,” thought Edna. “And when she does, she’ll let the detectives know, and Brumbaugh and Sergeant Eyeliner will be back.”

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 4

It was Wednesday, another volunteer workday, at Palm Lake Park.
“After everything, we’re going back?” said Edna.
“Of course, that’s what we do. Remember?” Paul said.
“Because we are insane.”
“Because we know the nature of plants is to heal people’s spirits,” Paul said.
He meant it, too. When he and Edna lived in Ohio on their 40-acre tree farm, Paul worked an hour and a half away as a computer analyst for an electric company. In the evenings and on weekends, he did what he really loved, which was growing dahlias. His dahlias were spectacular. Edna felt selfish for asking him to give up the place to move to Florida to be near her children and grandchildren. When the Senior Gardener program became available, he was the first one in line at the university extension program to sign up. He took the class seriously, studying every plant and tree in the new Florida setting.
“You’re going to hurt us one day--gawking at those trees like you do,” Edna would say from the passenger seat. He made his daily trip to Starbucks a plant-naming adventure. Edna was more interested in an espresso.

Paul once suggested that Edna sign up for the next Senior Gardener class.
“Sounds like that Stuart Black is a typical college professor--lots of lectures and hard tests. No thanks,” she replied.


Missy was usually busy when Paul and Edna arrived at the park. Normally, her energy level was remarkable, and she was in excellent shape for a woman of 65.Today she was sitting alone at the picnic table in the Rose Garden gazebo.
“I can’t get it out of my mind. Russ and I used to have such fun working together. We talked while we worked on the butterfly house or on the roses. I made everyone a copy of his obituary.”
Missy blew her nose.
Paul swallowed hard and looked at Edna. He turned away to open things up. The police had taken down the crime scene tape from the potting shed.
Edna sat with Missy and tried to help her face the day.
“Russ was such a gentle soul. To think that someone killed him for what, about $800 from the plant sale, makes me sick. He didn’t have an enemy in the world. It seemed like he never met a stranger. Like when he met the new guy, Jack. He said he felt like they were old friends. They were both from Ohio like you and Paul. Jack said they had never met, but that just shows you how friendly Russ could be. He treated his wife like a queen, I just know it.” She blew her nose again.
“I didn’t know Russ very well. Did his wife die of some terrible disease, cancer maybe?” Edna asked.
“No, it was a horrible car accident. It was only about three months ago. They were high school sweethearts, and I think that he blames—blamed--himself. Russ was driving, but a drunk driver hit them on U.S.41 near Daniels. He was still limping from injuries from the crash.”
Missy looked for another tissue in her bag. The first one was too soggy for another blow.
Edna looked across the grass and saw Mona, the senior gardener who took care of the pond. She was standing near the pond pump concentrating on it, rather than on Detectives Brumbaugh and Miori who were approaching her with notebooks for questions. Edna strained to hear what Mona told them.
“I barely spoke to Russ. We all stay so busy here. I’m here only on Wednesday mornings,” she told them.
Her comments seemed to satisfy them. They closed their notebooks and walked toward Edna and Missy in the Rose Garden gazebo.
“Good morning, ladies. We’d like to talk to you alone, Missy. Edna, if you don’t mind,” Brumbaugh said.
Edna took her coffee mug and weeding stool to the Cactus Garden. She could see Jack’s short stocky frame. His comical gardening hat was hard to miss from anywhere in the back half of the garden, especially since the cactus area was elevated about five feet above the level of the walkways around it.
Very few of the volunteers would go near the spiked, twisted plants in the Cactus Garden. It was too easy to yank a weed and end up donating blood from a jab of a leaf. One cactus, the Pereskia, fascinated Edna. She heard that it was the oldest cactus type known to man. The garden had three of them, two with pink flowers, and one orange. The cacti had twists and turns like science fiction monsters with bayonets for arms. They could hand out a knife-sharp blade topped with a tantalizing red or yellow flower.
“I can’t wait until this whole awful mess is over,” Jack said as he stacked a pile of weeds near Edna. “It gives me second thoughts about moving here.”
“You’re not planning to move back up north are you? What about you and Betty?” Edna asked.
“Oh, that’s nothing serious.”
It looked serious to Edna. She had seen him watching Betty’s every move for days. He started asking her about gardening, how she worked, and then got up his courage to ask her out. She had a nice figure still. Jack was about ten years younger than Betty, which made Edna wonder if the age difference was part of the reason Betty was interested in him.
“Charly, wait,” said Edna. Charly was pulling her weeding bench heading for the ginger area.
“We finally got some volunteer shirts delivered from the office. I have one for you in the tool shed. Let’s go back and get it.”
Edna stepped out of the Cactus Garden and she and Charly walked on the path past the Rose Garden. Missy was still talking to the detectives, telling everything she knew about Russ.
“I’m sure I had a new shirt in this drawer. I always put the person’s initial on the back of the size tag so I know I have the right size for everyone. Hazel gave me an extra when I gave Jack his. I marked it with an ‘X,’ but it’s gone. Sorry. Darn, I thought it was here.”
“No problem, I’ll wait for an--”
A yelp from Mona and the sound of splashing in the pond interrupted their discussion.
“Oh, crap!” Mona stood up completely soaked. Dissolving mascara dripped from her deep blue eyes. A lily pad was stuck to her shoulder.
Jack raced out of the Cactus Garden to the pond and stopped short of falling in on top of her.
“Jack, don’t panic, it’s only about four feet deep. I’m OK. You two can stop laughing now,” she said to Edna and Charly.

“I mean it, you two. Wait. What’s this?”
Mona had kicked something at the bottom of the pond. She scooped down and fished out a coffee can.
“Too bad,” said Charly. “We could have used it for coffee club.”
Mona shook the can and knocked off the plastic lid. When she looked inside, Edna saw her odd expression.
“What is this doing here?” Mona said as she pointed the open can toward Charly and Edna.
Someone had tucked a coil of money neatly in the can.
“Mona, don’t move. I’ll get the detectives,” Edna said.
Brumbaugh and Miori left Missy in mid-sentence when Edna announced the discovery of what could be the missing plant sale money.
Edna had a feeling that this was another Lucky Leprechaun picture that didn’t make sense.
“If Russ was killed in a robbery, why would the robber leave the money?” Edna asked the detectives. They didn’t answer.
They were talking to Mona as she dripped on the side of the pond.
“It doesn’t seem like robbery could be the motive,” Edna said louder this time.
“Mrs. Cameron, please,” Miori said, making her eyes roll.
“Just think, killed for a few measly dollars,” Charly said.
“Charly, no. There was no robbery.”

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 5

Edna tromped back to the Cactus Garden to take her frustration out on the weeds. The detectives were not interested in her theories. She’d overheard Brumbaugh talking to Miroi about wanting physical evidence, but she didn’t know what they had, if anything. She had to remind herself that her working days were done. When she used to dig up information in the newsroom library for the reporters, it was exciting to be in on the action of a story. Now that she was seeing a first-hand story unfold, she felt she had to know the truth here, too. It was part of her natural curiosity.
After half an hour of a vicious assault on one patch of weeds, Edna needed a rest in the gazebo at the end of the Cactus Garden. She had a good view of the rest of the gardens from the height of the cactus area. The whole garden was a collection of sub-gardens of like plants. Betty worked in the Peace Garden, which had several types of bromeliads and some lilies. Edna had a good view of the pond where Mona worked so hard to keep the pump cleaned out. The rose area was off to the west, the far border of the garden. The garden concept started when two Senior Gardeners, Ed and Sylvie Teal, thought that blind people might enjoy the walk by smelling the blooms. They called it a Fragrance Garden. Everyone enjoyed it; walkers, joggers, and gangs of mothers pushing strollers trying to shed those lingering pregnancy pounds.
She remembered Russ’s obituary was in her pocket. As she unfolded it, she remembered her friend Candy from the newspaper who prided herself on her error-free obit style.
“It’s the last thing anyone will read about the person, so it better be good,’’ she used to say.
“Russ McGovern, 62, born in Akron, Ohio, died Saturday, May 16. His wife, Barbie Jo (Reed) died in February. He graduated from Ellet High School in 1965 before joining the U.S. Army and served two tours in Vietnam. Before he retired and moved to Ft. Myers, he owned Russ’s T’s, a t-shirt printing shop. The Northeastern Ohio Veteran’s Memorial Cemetery in Rittman, Ohio will handle funeral arrangements.
Edna sat thinking about Russ’s obituary. She wished she could understand the reason for his death. She looked at Betty in the Peace Garden on the eastern edge of the garden that stopped at the pond. She was pulling weeds around the allamandas close to the necklace pods.
A light breeze blew something small into Edna’s field of vision. At first, she thought it was a spider near a web taking a trapeze ride on the wind. She reached and touched a thread with a fishing hook tied to the end. She was surprised to see it. An RV park was located on the other side of the pond beyond the north and east sides of the garden. Perhaps a rookie fisherman made a wild cast, and the wind took his line all the way to the gazebo. Russ and Missy used fishing line for the butterfly house to hang signs, but Edna couldn’t think of any reason that fishing line would be used in the Cactus Garden. Some of the cacti were big enough to need chains to hold them in place.
Edna stood on the bench to reach the outside gazebo roof. Someone had tied the line to a shiny nail.
“What are you doing?” Jack asked.
Edna jerked at hearing his voice.
“You’re going to fall on your head if you’re not careful. What’s the matter? Did a black racer corner you?”
Edna thought a moment, unlike her usual blurting.
“No, no snakes. I thought I saw an otter over there behind Betty, but it was just a couple of those black crows pecking around. I need to get some more water.”
After the detectives had scoffed at her earlier, she determined that she was going to keep her mouth shut until she had gathered some facts.
On her way to get water, she saw the detectives talking to Paul. She would have liked to eavesdrop or try to read the detective’s lips as they talked to him in the Rose Garden.
Apparently, they were finished listening to Missy, or maybe she went to find more Kleenex. Edna passed them, got some water from the tool shed, and found Betty still weeding in the Peace Garden.
“Betty, how are you holding up after all this?” Edna asked.
“Well, life goes on. Russ missed his wife, so, hopefully, they are together again.”
Betty kept pulling weeds.
“Did the police talk to you much?” Edna asked.
“Oh, dozens of questions--mostly about the plant sale money. I’m so glad they found it. Now, Jack and I are off the hook.”
“Like you say, now you’re both off the hook,” she said, still puzzled by the fishing line and hook on the gazebo in the Cactus Garden.
Edna walked toward the large white blossoms on a bush by the wedding gazebo. Gardenia therapy might lift her spirits. She stuck her head in the middle of a large bush, but the intoxicating fragrance could not uproot thoughts of Russ.
She was convinced that Russ didn’t die as part of a robbery. The police had been wasting their time looking for clues from across the big pond to the R.V. park. The manager of the R.V. lot reported that some vagrants were using the showers earlier in the year. That report sent the police hunting for clues in the wrong direction. Edna backed out of the gardenia bush into the path with her rear end on a collision course with Detective Brumbaugh.
“Sorry,” they said in unison.
“I wasn’t looking,” said Edna. “Aroma therapy if you want to try it.”
“No, thanks,” he said. “How well do you think you know your husband?”
It took a few seconds for the question to sink in.
“We’ve been married for 22 years, so pretty well, I guess.”
“Did he seem upset earlier in the day that Russ was murdered?” Brumbaugh asked.
“Look, you have it wrong. No way Paul did this. Someone with a deep hatred planned this. I just know it,” Edna said.
“Don’t get upset. These are standard questions. Amateur detectives only hamper our investigations. I’m sure you understand,” said Brumbaugh.
Edna turned abruptly and marched off wishing that her Crocs were noisier. She went to look for Paul. She found Charly weeding some ginger near a pathway.
“I saw the saddest thing on my way back from the restroom,” Charly said.
“What was that?”
“Hazel was helping Missy up from the floor of the butterfly house. Missy was crying like a baby and holding a dead butterfly?”
“She and Russ worked there together. Try not to let it get to you.”
But the atmosphere at the garden had changed. It had been five days since Russ’s murder, and every gardener seemed nervous and grumpy. Hazel Velez, the park manager, came by to say hello to everyone. Her attempts at cheerfulness met little response. The number of park visitors had dropped, especially in the children’s playground. One bride of the two scheduled weddings cancelled her ceremony in the white wedding gazebo. The other bride called and said she would have cancelled, too, if she could have found another place.
Edna found Paul by the Lignum Vitae tree near the garden entrance.
“What’s with you and this tree? I’ve found you here a couple of times.”
“This is a Florida native, you know. The Europeans harvested it almost to extinction. I was hoping that there would be some of the blue blossoms left, but they’re all gone,” Paul said.
All the chatter about the tree was his way of coping with anxiety about the detectives’ questions.
“What did the police say to you?”
“They think I had some grudge against Russ. Someone told them about the weed killer mix-up when he and I had words,” Paul said.
“Honey, we will get through this, so don’t worry.”
Edna was pretending to be brave, but she believed that the police were eager to find someone to blame, someone to arrest. Once they centered their attention on Paul, things might get ugly.

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 6

Edna went straight to the computer when she got home. Russ’s obituary was the place to start her search about his life. She had to know more.
Search results on the computer provided a website reference to an Ellet High reunion web page, but it was the wrong year. She needed 1965 not 1968.
Edna remembered her newspaper days when she got plenty of oddball requests in the library. Perhaps the Akron Beacon Journal librarian would be as sympathetic as she had been.
“I know this is an extraordinary request, but it might be part of a murder investigation,” she said to the librarian.
“I’m one step ahead of you. I keep a clip file of all these reunion notices. You wouldn’t believe how many people ask me about reunions. Wait, here it is. Our electronic archives didn’t start until about three years ago. This one is from March 2005. ‘A July reunion is planned. Contact Roy Brown, 330-375-2420.’”
After Edna hung up, she called Brown.
“I’ll help any way I can. Russ and I served in ’Nam together. We’re all just sick about his death,” Brown said. “I can send you two yearbooks. I’d like to have them back, though. One is from ’65 and the other from ’64, when we were juniors. I don’t know how else to help. B.J. was in the class behind us, so I didn’t know much about her. She was a cutie, a real knock out, if I recall. The guys squabbled about her more than once. It was a shame about her death, too.”
Edna promised to return the yearbooks and pay the overnight shipping fee. Paul came in just as she closed her cell phone.
“What did you have to do that was so important?” he asked.
“Some snooping, if you must know. I want to find out more about Russ’s life.”
“The police think I’m already involved somehow, and if you get into it, who knows what will happen.”
“Don’t worry. I just want to satisfy my own curiosity.”
Paul wrinkled his forehead, a look Edna took for disapproval, or maybe he was just hungry.
While Edna was making lunch, she was thinking about the people at the garden. Yesterday, they did their best to cope with the stress, each one coping a different way.
Charly coped by pulling a huge pile of weeds without stopping. She pulled them so intensely that the pile was twice as big as normal. She was in great shape physically from working out at the gym three times a week. Mentally, she was rebuilding her life as a recent widow, which was taking longer than the physical shape up.
Betty did her usual weeding and watering in the Peace Garden. She was quiet and rather inward before she and Jack started dating. She’d been separated from her husband for many years. He had thought Florida summers were too hot and moved back to the Boston area, but she loved the weather and stayed alone.
When Jack started volunteering, he followed Betty to learn a few plants and quickly became her devotee. She grinned like a fifteen year old when she caught him watching her from the Cactus Garden.
Jack spent every Wednesday and Saturday in the Cactus Garden. All the other gardeners were thrilled to have him there. Missy and Betty flatly refused to go near the spiked succulents. Some of the cacti were ten feet tall. Others were six inches high. One mammoth succulent sprawled around a palm and hugged it with a grizzly embrace.
Missy seemed to be doing the worst of all. She must have loved Russ, but maybe she never told him. Everyone tended the plants through a fog of grief that covered the area.
If the police had a suspect or some evidence to focus on, none of the gardeners knew about it. Edna was convinced that robbery was never the motive. The money, a robbery, and a murder--it all spun around in her head. Edna wondered if Jack put the money in the shed at all. The sheds weren’t very sturdy. In fact, Edna thought they were in such sorry shape that she was afraid to lean on them to get grass out of her shoes.
“Maybe Jack was planning on stealing the money and hid it in the pond to get later. Betty trusted him to put the money away, while she said she sat in the car,” Edna thought.
Someone rang the doorbell, and the dogs started a battery of barking until Edna bribed them with dog cookies to stay in the spare room.
“Edna, we need to have a word with your husband,” said Detective Brumbaugh.
“Again?”
“We need to speak with Mr. Cameron. Is he here?” Miori said.
Paul had heard the dogs and came in behind Edna.
“Your wife can pick you up at the station. You can call her after we have your formal statement,” Brumbaugh said.
“Station? Statements? What’s this?” Edna asked.
“Dear, I’ll call you later. It’s OK,” Paul said.
“OK? No, it is not at all OK.”
The detectives took Paul in their car.
Edna remembered the weed killer argument. Missy must have convinced the police that it was more than a misunderstanding. Paul was now the fly trapped in the spider web.

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 7

Three hours later, Paul called from Brumbaugh’s office in downtown Ft. Myers. Since all the snowbirds were gone by the end of May, traffic was normal instead of insane, and Edna arrived there in about 25 minutes.
“What did they say? What do they want from you? Do we need a lawyer?”
“Calm down. I’ll tell you everything when we get home.”
Just as Edna had predicted, the detectives asked Paul about the weed killer argument caused by a mix-up on the labels. Missy said that she’d seen Paul leave the murder scene moments before she found Russ’s body, more fuel for the fire.
“The shed was a bloody mess from the wound in Russ’s neck. You’d think the police would have looked for someone with blood on them.”
“I’m sure they’ll get on the right track,” Paul said.
Paul’s face was pale. Edna knew to stop talking for the rest of the trip.
“Right track, phooey!” Edna thought. She believed that Brumbaugh and Miori couldn’t even see the train station. First, they wasted time on a robbery that never happened. Now, they think Paul might have done it. Other people were at the park. Maybe Missy had a fit of jealousy.


~
Thursday morning Edna tried scrubbing the grout on the kitchen floor to erase her sad thoughts. She kept thinking how absurd it was for someone to suspect Paul of anything. He was a big guy, true, but he was gentle with her. Paul, a killer, ridiculous. However, he had killed a deer or two in Ohio on their land. He butchered one himself once in the garage. Edna wasn’t home that day on purpose. Then once, by mistake, he said, he shot a mama kitty that he had mistaken for a wild male cat. He claimed that it was a threat to their barn cats. Edna found out about it when she heard the cries of three orphaned Manx kittens, which she took in and fed with a dropper. One week after Edna found the kittens, she had to lie to the neighbor who came looking for her mama barn cat. Edna had given her two of the kittens and had played dumb about what happened to the mother.
The UPS driver rang the doorbell, and Edna’s dark thoughts dissolved. Roy Brown made good on his promise of yearbooks from Ohio.
With a fresh cup of espresso, Edna sat on the lanai to start the review of Russ’s life. The puffy “teased” hairstyles and thick eyeliner would have been good for a big laugh had she not worn both back in the day. The boys either had crew cuts or greased hair slicked back. Their fresh faces stuck out of button-down collars. Several girls wore clunky class rings on chains dangling from their necks, tokens of a boyfriend’s steadiness.
All the pictures were in black and white, so eye and hair color were guesswork. Edna thought about the advances of photography. Even her cell phone could take a color picture.
Russ was a handsome kid, tall and blond. He appeared in the Latin Club photo and with the varsity track team, where he was the tallest boy.
Edna looked through the 1965 Elletian concentrating on finding Russ. She turned to the junior class to find his wife B.J. Reed. Edna had to agree with Brown when he said that B.J. was cute. She had a lovely smile, bright eyes, and dark hair. Edna thought that the Ellet boys must have noticed that B.J. was very busty, too.
In the 1964 book, Russ would have been in the junior class, and B.J. would have been a sophomore. B.J. was in the choir that year and in a candid shot at the junior-senior prom. The caption below the dance photo read “John Brockner, junior, and B.J. Reed, sophomore, dance the night away.” The clean cut, chubby boy must have been her boyfriend before she and Russ started dating. Edna thought Brockner reminded her of someone she knew.
Edna opened the 1965 yearbook again and found Brockner in the Chess Club. She got her best look at him from his senior picture.
“Hello, Roy. This is Edna Cameron from Ft. Myers. I have the yearbooks, thanks, but now I have a couple questions. Do you have a current class list with addresses? Good, OK. Do you have an address for John Brockner?
“We lost track of him a few years after high school.”
Edna slumped in her chair.
“Does anyone know where he could be?”
“Wait, if his mother is still alive and living in the area, I can call her.” Brown said. “I’ll call you back.”
About thirty minutes later, Brown called.
“She is ticked off. He moved out a few months ago and stuck her with his bills and two cats. He moved to Ft. Myers where you are. Isn’t that a coincidence?”
“I don’t think it is a coincidence at all.”

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 8

“Samantha, I need your help with something at Palm City Park,” Edna said to her daughter on the phone.
“Mom, I just got home from a business trip, and the kid’s laundry is all piled up.”
“I know you are busy, but I need to find out something that could keep Paul out of jail. If he gets thrown in prison for something he didn’t do, I’ll be so distraught that I might want to bring my three dogs and come to live with you.”
“I’d love to help. I’ll get Geoff to watch Kinsey and Katie. Where should I meet you?”
“Wonderful! Meet me by the Cactus Garden in Palm City Park.”
Edna grabbed her camera and the biggest hat she could find. She took Paul’s fishing tackle box and a pair of scissors.
“At store. I’ll get popsicles and dog biscuits. Back soon. Love, E,” she wrote on a sticky note for Paul.
Edna was in the Cactus Garden hanging up a hook on some fishing line when Samantha arrived.
“OK, Mom, what are we doing exactly? I’m not getting anywhere near those awful things,” she said, pointing at the cacti. “That is the ugliest hat I’ve ever seen. You’re not going to wear that, are you?”
“Stand over in the Peace Garden, by that white pillar and take a picture of me with my camera.”
Edna put on the large hat and crouched down by the gazebo in the north end of the Cactus Garden.
“Mother, if you want a good picture, you’d better stand up. All I can see is your hat.”
“Please take the picture.”
“Got it.”
“OK, wait. We need to take another one from right there. OK. Now, please.”
Edna hung the hat on the hook and crawled down the slope on the west side of the Cactus Garden.
“OK, done.”
Edna positioned Samantha in two other spots in the garden for more pictures where Edna and Missy were working at the time of Russ’s murder. Samantha probably thought she was taking pictures of her mother. Instead, she photographed a hat on a hook surrounded by plants.
“Now, what?” Samantha asked.
“I need you to time me. I’m going from the Cactus Garden to that shed and back.”
Edna got in the starting position, and Samantha gave a shout.
“Go!”
Edna came back puffing.
“Two minutes, forty-five seconds, roughly. Why is your shirt on inside out?”
“It’s part of the experiment.”
Edna had taken her shirt off in the shed, thinking that the killer must have taken off his volunteer shirt to avoid blood splatters. She neglected to turn her shirt right side out when put it back on.
“Thank you, sweetheart. Please don’t tell anyone about this. I’ll call you.”
“Mom, sometimes I worry about you,” said Samantha tilting her head.
Edna took the camera to the CVS drugstore on Summerlin. She wanted her digital prints immediately.
When she went into her house, she cringed at the sticky note. Paul gave her a quizzical look.
“Where are my popsicles?”
“The truth is Samantha met me at the park, and we took some photos. I have a theory that I want the police to think about so you’ll be in the clear.”
“They’re going to hang me for sure, just because you are getting in their way.”
“Fine! For dinner, it’s peanut butter and jelly.”
After a few minutes, Edna sat down next to Paul as he watched the Channel 2 news.
“Paul, I need to do this. It won’t do any harm, I promise. It might even help.”
Paul looked at the ceiling and shook his head at the same time, his gesture of acquiescence.
~
Edna spent Thursday evening positioning her diagrams and digital prints at the dining room table. She drew dotted lines and arrows. She drew little symbols and a key for them at the bottom of two 11 x 17 pieces of paper that she had taped together. When she finished the graphic layout, she typed elaborate descriptions. It was the first night she stayed awake past 8:30 p.m. since the night her son got married in Las Vegas two years earlier.
“I have a few copies to make of this diagram and the yearbooks. I’m showing the lot to Brumbaugh and Miori tomorrow.”
“What will happen to our pets if we both are in jail?”
“Paul, things will turn around now, you’ll see.”
Edna tried to sleep but spent an hour or more thinking about her theory. She was convinced that Jack Beckman, as he called himself, was really John Brockner, the kid in the yearbook. He had aged, of course, but it was the same man. Brockner and Russ both dated B.J. Reed and were in the same Ellet High class. It could not be a coincidence. Edna had heard Brumbaugh tell Miori that he wanted hard, physical evidence, and Edna’s theory, even with pictures, was still a theory.

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 9

Edna was in a hurry the next morning to be the first one at Brumbaugh’s office. As she drove north on McGregor toward downtown, she found herself gazing at the showy, red-orange blossoms on the Royal Poinciana trees on the route.
“Now, he’s got me doing it,” Edna thought. She was looking at the trees instead of concentrating on driving, something Paul would do.
Edna arrived at Brumbaugh’s office in the Justice Center by 8:30 a.m., but she found him out and Miori in.
“I’m sorry. He went into a meeting. No telling how long he’ll be there.”
“Please see that he gets this and ask him to call. It’s very important information about the Russ McGovern murder.”
“I’m sure he’ll give it all the attention it deserves,” Miori smiled.
Edna had a vision of the entire package chucked in the trash the minute the door closed behind her.
She drove back home, focusing on how her theory had to be the correct one. She realized that when she pulled in the driveway, she’d been lost in the thick of thought. Fortunately, she hadn’t run into some other Ft. Myers driver who was high on music, drugs, or cell phone chat.
Throughout the morning, she kept her cell phone in her pocket while she dusted and washed windows.
“Oh. Hi, Joe,” Edna said.
“Gee, Mom, you don’t sound very glad to hear from me.”
“Sorry, dear .I’ve been a little distracted. How are you, Blondi, and my sweet grand baby Sam?
“We’re all fine. I heard you saw Brandon. He’s up for some big promotion,” Joe said.
Edna finished the call and thought about Brumbaugh’s promotion. If he moved up in rank, then Miori, Sergeant Mascara, would probably move up, too, and be in charge of Russ’s murder investigation. Edna was convinced that Miroi thought she was a meddling nuisance.
At one o’clock, Edna couldn’t endure waiting for Brumbaugh’s call.
“I’m sorry,” said the receptionist. “He’s out of the office. May I have him return your call?”
Paul noticed Edna’s frown after she closed her cell phone.
“I’ve been making a list of things we have to do at the garden tomorrow. Mark the Ylang Ylang tree for transplant. Root prune jasmine bushes. Mulch roses. And our favorite--weeding, lots of weeding.”
“Weeding,” said Edna. “Now that cheers me up.”
She tried to focus on what Paul was saying, but she kept thinking that if Brumbaugh would look at her packet, he would see the logic of her theory.
The windows still had several dog nose prints. She drifted from room to room with the Windex.
“Edna, are you going to feed the dogs? It is past time.”
“What? What time is it?
“It’s 4:15.”
“Crap! Brumbaugh hasn’t called me back.”
She opened her cell phone, dialed, and heard the receptionist.
“Gone for the day? Please look on his desk. I left a package that said ‘Russ McGovern Murder, From Edna Cameron.’”
“Sorry, no package. Would you like to leave your number?”
Edna closed her phone and blinked away tears of rage. Miori had done what Edna feared. She pitched the packet.
“It won’t stop there,” Edna vowed.
She had made copies.

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 10

Edna gazed into her oatmeal. She gathered her gumption to face the day. As far as she knew, Paul was still the prime suspect. He seemed to be holding up better than she was.
Saturday was another volunteer day, so they were off to an early start. Edna drove separately in case she would want to leave before Paul was ready. By the end of May, temperatures got brutal by 10:30 a.m., but Paul could handle an extra hour. She passed Karol, a senior gardener who always got there before anyone else. Karol had a reputation for being a zealous pruner. Once, Betty joked about Karol, “Don’t stand too close, or you’ll get a surprise haircut.” Karol was busy trimming an overgrown firebush when Edna waved.
“Psst! Edna, come over here,” Karol said.
“Hi, things are looking good over here.”
“I’ve been meaning to tell you what I overheard on Wednesday. I was down low weeding behind that gardenia when those two detectives stopped and talked on the other side of the bush. I don’t think they knew I was there. They talked about doing complete background checks on all of us, even some on people who were off that day. Did you know that?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Well, I have. I have three outstanding parking tickets. Now, what am I going to do? I was saving that money for a cruise. Damn.”
Edna walked on, looking at the condition of the gardens. Jack was having difficulty keeping the weeds controlled in the Cactus Garden. Edna decided to work there and observe his behavior at the same time. She knew she was right about him. Even if Miori destroyed her theory notes, she would go back Monday with copies and hand them to Brumbaugh.
Joanie, an occasional Saturday gardener, was crawling around pulling weeds between two large century plants in the Cactus Garden.
“This place is a disaster zone. I’ve been gone three weeks and look at this mess--weeds all over,” Joanie said while she kept tearing out weeds. “This Jack character doesn’t seem to know what he is doing. I found a fishing line and a hook, so I took it down. If he is trying to support a cactus with that, he is wasting his time. Paul needs to have a talk with him.”
Edna’s heart sank when she thought of her evidence, the fishing line, ripped from its crucial location. She was hoping no one would notice it until she could show the detectives.
“Don’t worry, Joanie. I’ll get Charly and we’ll work there with you. He’ll work over there today, and Paul can talk to him later,” Edna said as she nodded toward Jack who was several yards away.
Charly turned off her weed trimmer when she saw Edna by the wedding gazebo.
“Sure, I’d be glad to help.”
“I can tell you haven’t worked there before. Please be very careful.”
Betty approached the pair as she walked toward the Peace Garden.
“Are you OK?” Charly asked Betty.
“It was some news Jack told me, and now I have to look at him all morning,” Betty said. “He says his mother isn’t doing too well in Ohio. He’s thinking about moving back as soon as we are all cleared in this nasty business.”
Charly and Edna offered sympathy. Betty shrugged, frowned, and walked on
Edna hoped that Joanie would stay at the south end of the Cactus Garden with Jack at the north, and she and Charly would take the middle. Paul could deal with Joanie’s complaints.
Joanie wasn’t finished. She approached Edna a few minutes later.
“I know why I feel so bad. Partially, it is this murder business. With all these weeds and plants being a mess, it reminds me of when the hurricane came through here and ripped everything up. I felt horrible.”
“Ah, Ah! Oh, hell,” Charly screamed.
Edna and Joanie turned toward the screams to see Charly gritting her teeth.
“Was it a snake?” asked Joanie.
“My butt,” Charly said turning her rear end for viewing.
Seven or eight needles stuck out of Charly’s pants. Spots of blood made little circles on her white shorts.
“Those are from that prickly pear. You’d better get those spines out. They have barbs on them. You’ll be sorry if you don’t,” said Joanie.
“I’m already sorry,” Charly said.
“Come on. We have tweezers in the first aid kit in the tool shed. I’ll help,” Edna said.
“Remember when your mother told you to wear good underwear in case you have to go to the hospital? Well, wouldn’t you know it? Today, I’m wearing my worst granny panties,” Charly said, trying to smile.
“That’s OK. You’re a granny anyways, aren’t you?” Edna asked.
Charly endured the surgery bravely. The first aid cream seemed to help.
“I’m heading back. That cactus is in for a fight this time.”
“I’m going to make some coffee, and I’ll be along in a minute.” Edna set up the coffee maker. There wasn’t enough coffee for a full pot, so she reached for a new can from the coffee club supplies in a plastic tote, and heard a noise behind her.
“Hi, dear,” Edna said, then, turned around. “Oh, sorry. I thought you might be Paul.”
Jack stood in the shed doorway.
“I thought something was wrong. I heard a scream earlier.”
“The prickly pear left an impression on Charly. She’s OK,” Edna said. “I’m going to open this can you brought in, if you don’t mind. We’re out of coffee.”
Before he could answer, Edna took the plastic lid off the can. There was no foil underneath it. Instead, Edna saw a volunteer shirt --with dirt or maybe blood on it--wadded up in the can. She quickly replaced the lid hoping Jack hadn’t noticed.
“So, did you come in here to get a shirt--shit--I mean a shovel?” Edna’s mouth was dry.
“I think you know what I came to get. I would have gotten it earlier, but the police have been watching me day and night.”
Edna tucked the can under her arm.
“Listen, you nosey bitch. Hand that over, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Over my dead--never mind.”
“Fine,” he said looking at the tool assortment to his right. Any choice, shovel, rake, or hoe, could render Edna unconscious or worse.
Edna’s escape through the shed door was blocked. Backward was the only choice. The back corner had a small hole where a cat kept coming in. Maybe she could force her way through somehow, butt first, if necessary. She pulled the coffee club plastic tote across the floor between her and Jack. He had his hand on a shovel.
As he turned toward her and started to raise his arm, she hurled a partial bag of sugar that exploded on impact with his chin. He laughed and tightened his grip on the shovel.
Edna flipped open the pour spout on the coffee creamer and threw it as hard as she could.
Her shot hit Jack’s shoulder and powdery dust filled the shed. She crouched down trying to scoot out backwards through the cat hole.
Jack drew the shovel back and kicked the coffee tote out of his way. Edna took a two-ounce spray bottle of mosquito repellant out of her Capri pants pocket and squirted it toward Jack. The spray hit the middle of his belly.
Just as Jack started to lunge at her, Edna saw him jerk into reverse and stumble backwards. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Brumbaugh and Paul had grabbed Jack by the shoulders and pulled him out of the shed.
Edna came out of the shed blinking. Jack was face down on the ground with Miori kneeling in the center of his back. She handcuffed him probably as quickly as she put on lip gloss.
“I have it. I have evidence. It’s a bloody shirt in this can. If you check it, you’ll find a ‘J’ on the label. I gave him this shirt, and he took the extra one.”
“You look like a ghost,” Paul said.
“I almost was. This stuff? Oh, that’s creamer.”
“You’d better sit down over here. Dear, you can let go of the can.”
As Miori stuffed Jack in the back of a Lee County Sheriff patrol car, Missy walked up to the car. She let out a scream of delight and twirled around in a victory dance. Her hair swirled out like the spokes on a sprinkler.
“You bastard,” Missy yelled pointing. “I hope they hang you.”
Edna sat on the stoop of the shed. She could see Paul talking, but she felt like she was underwater and couldn’t react to what he was saying.
“Edna, you’re not letting go of the can. Edna,” Paul said.
She looked at him and started to cry.
“I thought I might not get to see you again.”
He hugged her and helped her to stand.
“You OK to walk?” Paul asked. “You scared me. You could have been dead in the shed. I hope you have learned from all this.”
“Trust me. I have. I’ve learned something that I’ve suspected all along.”
“Which is?”
“Bug spray doesn’t really work very well. I need a cup of very strong coffee before I do anything else, OK?” said Edna. “Oh, and skip the creamer.”

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 11

Missy, Charly and Betty clustered around Edna and walked her to the Rose Garden gazebo where Paul and the detectives joined the group.
“Can you handle a few questions?” Brumbaugh asked Edna.
“Wait, how did you know to come here?” said Edna slamming down her coffee cup. Fear, anger, and caffeine fueled her speech. “OK, Miss Miroi, just what exactly did you do with my packet? Toss it in the trash the minute I left?”
Brumbaugh answered, “I took the packet home last night. Furthermore, we have been conducting our own investigations, on everyone. We came here when we found something odd in Beckman’s background.”
“”Well, what was that?” Edna asked.
“Beckman used the same social security number on his volunteer application as when he used his real name, John Brockner. He has been in several mental treatment centers since shortly after he graduated from high school and has had problems all his life. Brockner has been unable to keep a job. In Ohio, he had a record of two serious threats against employers who had fired him.”
“Ohio, see. I had that in my packet,” Edna said tapping her elbow on Paul.
“We contacted his mother who said he left suddenly when he read an obituary about his old girlfriend, B.J. When I saw her mentioned in your packet and his high school photo, I knew we were close to the truth,” Brumbaugh said.
“How does the fishing line and hook fit into things?” Miori asked.
“Joanie took it down, or I could have shown you how Jack must have hung up his big hat while he ran into the shed to kill Russ. Betty was so used to seeing him there that she saw the hat and assumed he was there. “
“How did the plant sale money end up in the pond? What about the robbery?” Charly asked.
“Jack must have kept out a few bills to stick under Russ’s head to make it took like he surprised a robber. I think Jack’s reason for killing Russ was pure jealousy, the oldest motive in the book. He must have blamed Russ for the loss of his girlfriend, her death, and that his life was just a general mess,” Edna said.
“I can’t believe I was so wrong about him. He was very sweet to me,” Betty said wiping a tear from her eye.
The police cars left muddy tracks through the lawn. Edna hoped the tracks would fade along with the memory of the murder.
Joanie stomped across the grass with a stern look. Dirt, sweat, and spots of blood from the cacti covered her clothes. She wrinkled her forehead as if she didn’t understand why the group was gathered together.
“Did I miss something? Doesn’t matter. If you people are done chatting, I could use a hand in the Cactus Garden.

Dead in the Shed: Chapter 12

The next Saturday, a bagpiper playing “Amazing Grace” led a small group into the Rose Garden. Missy wiped tears. Paul held Edna’s hand. Charly and Betty checked their pockets for tissues.
“Everyone who knew him was touched by the love he had for plants, especially roses and orchids. He shared his knowledge with anyone who asked him. I dedicate this brick. Hazel, do you have the brick? I dedicate this brick to Russ McGovern. On behalf of the Senior Gardener program, I want to award his family a certificate of appreciation for his contribution to the program. Are they here? We can mail it, I guess. Thank you,” said Stuart Black, Senior Gardener program instructor.
“Missy would like to say a word about Russ. Missy, if you would please,” Hazel said and stepped back.
“I would like to have the brick placed by the gazebo, so we can all think of him at our meetings,” Missy said.
She might have intended to keep talking, but she blew her nose and waved to the group to signal that she was too emotional to continue.
Behind her, Edna heard Charly whisper to Betty, “I can’t believe the loss of a human life just to rob the plant sale money.” Edna turned around.
“Charly, there was no robbery!”
“Did you two want to say something?” Black asked.
“No, sorry,” Edna and Charly said shaking their heads.
“Paul did you want to say something?” Hazel asked.
Paul blushed and recovered as if he had thought of something.
“Russ did what gardeners do best. They take care of plants so the plants can bring beauty to the world and touch the souls of people. Thanks, Russ.”
Missy blew her nose.
Black dismissed the group, but the Palm City Park gardeners stayed behind.
“See, dear, I told you it would work out OK,” Edna said to Paul.
The wrinkle that started in his forehead disappeared when he smiled and put his arm around her.
“I brought a change of clothes. As long as I’m here, I’ll check on the butterfly house,” said Missy.
“There might be a wedding today, so I’ll check the wedding gazebo area,” Charly said.
Edna and Charly looked at Betty who seemed sad and said nothing.
“Why don’t you work in the Peace Garden for a little while? Maybe it will help you forget about Jack,” Edna said.
“Don’t feel bad. Just be glad that you didn’t sleep with him,” Charly said.
Betty raised her eyebrows above her sunglasses.
“Betty, no!”
They all laughed.

Tom Thompson, graphic artist

Hello,

I am thrilled that Tom Thompson, EHS '68 web master is doing graphics for Dead in the Shed.
Thanks to Tom's skill, the book will have an interesting look.
Alma