The Florist

The Show Must Go On

            Capri felt like a rag doll as Mel dragged her by hand back into the police station. Captain Grayson looked just as confused as the rest of the building’s occupants when the two of them barged into his office.

            “What the hell is going on here?” Captain Grayson hollered jumping to his feet.

            “Cap, I would like your permission to orchestrate a raid on the Eta Beta Zeta fraternity house.”

            “You wa – Based on what?”

            “Vasu Jó. He knows who killed the girls but he’s scared to talk because it would break a code. I’m assuming it has to do with his fraternity.”

            “Perrin, you know as well as I do that we can’t just bust into their house for being part of a fraternity.”

            “If Vasu knows something about the murders, maybe one of his frat brothers does as well.”

            “Maybe is speculation. I’m not about to put that kind of manpower into a raid on speculation.”

            “But Captain, we are this close to solving this case!”

            “Then give me something I can use, Perrin.”

            “His statement is something we can use!”

            “Did he say that the murderer was part of his fraternity?”

            “Well, not directly but …”

            “Did he even mention the fraternity at all?”

            “No, just a code but …”

            “And isn’t he a suspect for the murders anyway?”

            “Yeah, but Cap …”

            “Did you ever think that he might just be trying to save his own ass?” he proposed. “If you can get something tangible out of him, please do. Until then, the answer is no.”

                                                                                                §

            “What do we do now?” Capri asked Mel after they left the captain’s office.

            “I’m going to go down to the frat house myself and ask some questions after I take you home.”

            “By yourself? No. You can’t do that. I won’t let you.”

            His eyes darted in her direction. “Oh, you have control in the places I go now?”

            “If you mean to have me then I mean to have you, and it’d be nice if I had you alive!”

            “I’ve been on the force for eight years and haven’t met a man to bring me down yet. I don’t think a bunch of pretty boys are going to be the ones to do it.”

            “If you go then I go.”

            “What the – hell no! It’s a house full of dudes with the possibility of a killer inside! I can’t risk that with you.”

            “Mel, you should know by now that if I make up my mind, you won’t have a choice in the matter.”

            He sighed. “Good point. All right then. What do you suggest we do?”

            “What happened to you looking into the families of the victims?”

            “You are the family of one of the victims.”

            “So are you!”

            “Okay, look. Going back and forth isn’t going to get us anywhere. Let’s go check in with Franco and see if he has any ideas.”

            Capri followed Mel down to Franco’s lair. To their surprise, he was expecting them. The dry erase board they used during their meeting was still intact as he was examining the details of it himself. Mel filled him in on the information Capri retrieved from Vasu. Franco sat down and rocked in his chair while the wheels turned in his mind.

            “He’s probably expecting that his frat brothers will call in their connections to get him out once they get word he’s in here. Do y’all know if he’s been able to use the phone yet?”

            Mel shook his head. “I’m sure he’s still in processing, but now that you mention it, he probably won’t hesitate when he gets the opportunity.”

            Franco stood and walked over to his computer. “We need to do a deep analysis of the connections we’ve made thus far.”

            “As in?”

            “As in whether or not Alton Van Boerne, Frances Rue Cowl, and Sidney Jane Hornell actually knew your mother, and if they did, we need to know how.”

            “Do those names sound familiar to you, Capri?”

            “If they did, I would have mentioned it by now. All I ever knew my mom to be was a housewife.”

            “And that she was going to school to be a chef, right?”

            “And a lead that won’t talk,” Mel added.

            “Yeah, but what does that matter?”

            “When we’re up against the wire like this with no leads …”

            “… Everything matters. Didn’t you say you stayed with your best friend and her mom after they were killed?”

            “Yes.”

            “How close was she to them?”

            “Extremely. Tristeza was the first person my mom met when she moved here from New Jersey. She introduced her to my dad and the rest is history as far as I know.”

            “Then we need to know that history,” Franco said. “Call her and get her in here.”

            Capri did as instructed. When Tristeza heard her voice, she yelped with joy in finally being able to talk to her. It didn’t take long before she was standing in front of them at the police station. Even though Tristeza’s first action was to smother Capri in a bone shattering hug and dozens of kisses, Franco and Mel pried them apart with the Jaws of Life so they could get to work.

            “Miss Woodruff,” Mel kicked off. “We asked you to come here because we need your help.”

            “Well, I’d love to, but I’m no detective. What could I possibly do for you?”

            “For starters, you can clear something up for us. We think that these three people have a connection to Flora Winters. Since you knew her well, we were wondering if you recognized any of their names.”

            Tristeza sat for a moment as she searched her brain for an answer. “Flora used to have a physician named Dr Van Boerne. I don’t know if his first name was Alton though.”

            “Doctor?” Mel jumped. “Franco, pull up that file.”

            “Already on it,” he told as his fingers flew across the keyboard. When the record popped onto the screen, it showed that his occupation matched Tristeza’s tale. “Holy …”

            “Do you know if Flora had any bad dealings with the doctor?”

            “I don’t think so. Why? Is something wrong?”

            “What about Sidney Jane Hornell or Frances Rue Cowl? Do either of those names ring a bell?”

            “No. I’m sorry. Should they?”

            “We’re not sure yet, Aunt T.”

            “Well, why are all these lines drawn to her name?” Tristeza asked. “I’ve never heard of these people before, and I should know. Flora and I were as close as Capri and Nia were. I know everything about her.”

            “What about Freddie?”

            “He was her husband.”

            “No,” Franco chuckled. “Are any of these people connected to him … that you know of?”

            “Like I said, I’ve never heard of them before. I’m so sorry.”

            He sighed. “That’s all right. Uh, I’m going to borrow Mel for a minute.”

            When Franco nodded for him to follow behind, Mel took a moment to consult with Capri. “Will you be okay while I’m gone?”

            “Well, I’m not going to hurt her,” Tristeza stepped in.

            Capri smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

            He kissed her forehead before disappearing outside with Franco. Tristeza put her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow in her adoptive daughter’s direction. Capri looked back bashfully.

            “What?”

            “That’s what I wanna know. Is that normal police procedure for a detective to be so friendly? Where’s my kiss?”

            “Aunt T!” Capri giggled.

            “I would ask how you’ve been doing, but it looks like you’re doing all right to me!”

            “Oh, goodness.”

            “And I was worried? Ha!” Tristeza laughed as Capri joined in.

            “I’ve been worried about you too. How are you doing?”

            “Oh, honey, I’m doing. Hanging in there and taking one day at a time. You know, it’s been real hard wrapping my brain around the fact that I’m never going to see my baby girl again until we all reunite in the heavens. I miss her.”

            Capri shone a comforting smile. “I miss her too. Everyday.”

            “It was difficult planning the funeral and trying to think of …”

            “Wait! You made arrangements already?” she exclaimed to her nodding.

            “Cattails Funeral Home & Memorial Park, Wednesday morning.”

            Her sigh was as heavy as a pile of bricks weighing on her scarred heart. “I really wished I could’ve helped you with that.”

            “Oh, me too, baby. You would’ve probably had a little more insight on everything she’d want, how best to represent her and her life. Such a short life,” she said warding off tears. Capri reached for her hand and Tristeza gripped hers in response. “I just wish I could understand why this happened to her. You know Nia. She never did anything to anybody!”

            “I know, Aunt T. I know.”

            “I just – I want to know for certain, Capri.”

            “Know what?”

            “I saw all of you on TV, when the captain said y’all were close to catching The Florist and the accomplice. Was that the truth or …?”

            “It’s true.”

            “Then why am I here with y’all rehashing the death of old friends, huh?” she cried. “I’m trying to prepare myself for my baby’s home-going, and now I’ve got to be reminded that another vicious person stole two of my dearest friends?”

            “Aunt T, we’re not trying to open old wounds. We just … we need to make sure all of our ducks are in a row before we capture these people.”

            “How are you doing this? What were they thinking having you work on this case with them?”

            “It wasn’t their idea,” she informed. “I asked to be on the case. Well, demanded is probably more accurate.”

            “What is wrong with you?” Tristeza blurted out. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

            “Because I am tired of sitting by waiting for something to happen. If I can do anything to help, then I’m going to do everything I can.”

            “Even if it means putting your life in danger?”

            “My life is already in danger, Aunt T. It’s been in danger, ever since The Florist claimed my parents.”

            “Oh, so now you think the killer’s after you too?”

            “I don’t know what to think. All I know is … somebody is wreaking havoc on this town, our town, and I’m tired of being a victim.”

            “So, you’re trying to be a heroine, is that it? Listen to me; if you are on the devil’s list and you’re still alive, you’ve already beat him. That’s celebratory enough, Capricious! What more could you want?”

            “I want to live without fear.”

                                                                                                §

            “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Franco asked Mel.

            “We finally have proof that one of the victims is connected to another, which means there may actually be something linking them all together, other than being victims of The Florist.”

            “So we need to look at those files again … at everything: jobs, schools, not just family relationships but all personal relationships. We need to dig deep.”

            “Umm, aren’t we doing that? The flowers and notes are helping us chip away at the case.”

            “Yeah but we don’t need to chip away at it; we need to break the damn door down. You said yourself we’re on a time clock.”

            Mel sighed. “Nobody wants IA sniffing around here.”

            “Not at all.”

            “So … let’s look at the facts. Van Boerne was once Flora Winters’ doctor. In his poem, The Florist berates him for being an exploitative smooth talker, but Miss Woodruff said that there were no bad dealings between …”

            “Forget what she said,” Franco dismissed. “Capri said The Florist is using these murders to out his victims, so if the poem says Van Boerne was shifty, then the man was doing some dirt before he was killed, whether Miss Woodruff knew about it or not. I just wish that …”

            Mel’s eyebrows fell at the sound of Franco’s frustration. “What? What is it?”

            “All right, I’m just talking out loud, so hear me out and jump in where you see fit,” he warned as Mel bobbed in understanding. “So, Capri was able to make all these connections, right? The flowers are all poisonous which explains why there are no prints except the victims because The Florist was aware, but the victims weren’t … which means …”

            “The Florist has knowledge of botany.”

            “Exactly, and the poems contain three things: the meaning of the poisonous flower, the effects of said poison on the victim, and the motive behind why The Florist has them on his death wish list.”

            “Or the suffering he feels he’s endured at the victims’ hands.”

            “All victims are killed at home with no sign of forced entry further supporting Capri’s claim that they knew The Florist personally.”

            “The victim of the victim thing suggests that too.”

            “I’m getting there, I’m getting there,” Franco promised. “Now we have this connection between Capri’s mother and Van Boerne, where she might have been a victim of his but either way, The Florist feels victimized by both of them! Now he’s gone into self-retirement? What the hell? This case is slicker than an oiled skillet and we got butter fingers! Why can’t we get a handle on this thing?”

             Mel puffed a sigh sharing in Franco’s frustration … until something Capri said sounded off like a gong in his head. The Florist has a story to tell and he’s using the language of flowers and these murders to do it. The sooner we figure out the basis behind this story, the sooner we find out who he is.