The Florist

Not Ready To Make Nice

            Capri sat frozen in a cryptic fog as she experienced a similar feeling of numbness as the day her parents were murdered. All she wanted to do was call Nia and tell her everything: how she breezed through the exam, how Vasu acted like a creep when she didn’t respond the way he wanted along the drive home, and how the alluring scent of the detective she met in the midst of her crazy day captivated her senses as if it were on purpose. It was nowhere near as overpowering as her ex-boyfriend’s was, but subtle, like his cologne was whispering to her. The neighborhood around her transformed into a blurred fusion of color she couldn’t begin to make sense of, but somehow, his cinnamon skin was perfectly in focus; the sharpness of his soft black hair showed signs of a fresh cut; his broad shoulders displayed an agonizing strength of carrying the weight of the world on them. She disposed of the thought when the vehicle screeched to a halt.

            Mel stepped out of the car and escorted his passenger into the station. He took notice of the way everyone stopped and stared at the magnificence of her beauty … and the fact that she wasn’t aware of the endless attention. He grabbed a hold of a notebook from his desk on his way to placing her in an interrogation room.

            “Okay. Let me just say again how sorry I am for your loss.”

            “If you apologize one more time, Detective, I’ll think you’re responsible.”

            Mel’s eyes popped open, amazed by her quick wit. “Well, we don’t want that. Capri, correct?”

            “Yes.”

            “What is your full name?”

            “Capricious Autumn Winters.”

            “What was your relation to the victim, uh … Zinnia Woodruff? Roommates?”

            “We were roommates, best friends. Our parents were best friends. We were born together, raised together … so on and so forth.”

            “I see. When was the last time you saw her?”

            “A couple of hours ago when I left to take my last exam.”

            “So, you’re a student?” he asked as she nodded. “Where do you go to school?”

            “Nolan.”

            “Was Miss Woodruff a student there as well?”

            “Yes, but Nia didn’t have a final today.”

            “Nia?”

            “That’s what I call her – called her,” she corrected while fighting back tears. “Ugh! Are you serious right now?”

            “I’m sorry?”

            “This should’ve been my first reaction … when I saw her. But I didn’t want to believe what was happenin’. Now that I’m answerin’ these questions, realizin’ I can’t call her and tell ‘er how crazy of a day this is … she’s really gone, isn’t she?”

            A gasp preceded the successive flow of tears that soaked her arm when Capri allowed her head to fall onto the table. Mel excused himself to retrieve tissues for her. No sooner than he left the room, his partner called to him.

            “I’m kinda in the middle of somethin’, man.”

            “Oh, you’re gonna wanna see this,” Ward warned passing him a picture from the crime scene. “A flower and a note. The Florist strikes again.”

            “Great,” he voiced sorrowfully. “Another one for the garden. Was the victim poisoned this time too?”

            “Nope. She was strangled.”

            His head snapped back in alarm. “That’s a little more intimate than usual, isn’t it?”

            “What usual? Some of ‘em get shot; some get poisoned. This psycho switches it up all the time. The only consistency ... is the flowers and these damn notes.”

            “We have got to find this bastard. We don’t know anything about him. We can’t figure out his next move. We don’t know what the notes mean or, or how he chooses his victims. It’s like we’re sitting ducks waiting around for the next dead body to pop up!”

            “Forensics can’t find anything. Franco’s pissed. He’s been working this case since The Florist came on the scene and this is what, victim number twenty?”

            “Nineteen.”

            “Did you find out anything from the roommate?”

            He shook his head. “I only got in a couple of icebreaker questions before reality hit. Gave her some privacy. She did say that she came back from taking an exam, though.”

            “I forgot it was finals week,” Ward said rubbing his chin. “Which one is she at? Blaise, Nolan, Bellerose …”

            “Nolan.”

            “You want me to go and see if her alibi checks out?”

            “Yeah, do that. And call the victim’s parents while you’re at it.”

            “For what? The roommate already identified the body when she fell out on the damn floor.”

            “It’s common courtesy.”

            “Courtesy? What, are we in the Girl Scouts now?”

            “Man, go make the call,” he directed before making his way back to Capri. As soon as he opened the door, he was surprised to see her pacing behind the chair he left her sitting in. “Uh, Miss Winters, are you okay?”

            “I’m fine, thank you.”

            Her tone was serious. There was no trace of the tears she shed. It was as if her emotional outburst was nonexistent.

            “I brought you some – would you like a tissue?”

            “I would like to know why you’re in here asking me silly questions when you should be out there finding my best friend’s killer.”

            “Well, I need to question anyone who knew Miss Woodruff, or information about Miss Woodruff, that may help with the investigation.”

            “Look. Detective Perrin, was it?”

            “It was.”

            “I appreciate you trying to handle me with kid gloves, but this whole thing would go a lot smoother, and possibly faster, if you’re straight up with me.”

            “Fair enough,” he surrendered with a nod. He had to admit he was impressed by how forthcoming she was. Her rigorous honesty was refreshing … and enticing. “You said you left to take an exam. Do you remember what time that was?”

            “About 8:30. My final started at 8:50.”

            “When did you arrive at Nolan University?”

            “8:35.”

            “Did you run?” he wondered, stunned by the small time difference.

            “No. Nia was supposed to take me but she had to go to work.”

            “Where did she work?”

            “Nix Boutique. She had to open today and didn’t want to leave early to drop me off so she … arranged a ride.”

            “Arranged? With who?”

            She sighed heavily. “My ex-boyfriend, Vasu Jó.”

            “You don’t seem too pleased with that arrangement.”

            “He’s an ex for a reason.”

            Mel chuckled at her bluntness. “Uh, so, were you mad at Miss Woodruff for communicating with your ex-boyfriend?”

            “Not really. It was to be expected.”

            “How so?”

            “Zinnia liked to go to parties around campus, especially since we live off campus, and Vasu is a frat boy, so the only way you won’t catch him at a party is if hell freezes over. There was a party last night. They ran into each other. Nia called herself playing matchmaker.”

            “I see. And you weren’t upset about that?”

            “Well, I … wasn’t exactly excited about being alone in a car with my cheating ex but, I mean, that was Nia. She always looked for a silver lining and thought people deserved a second chance. Third, fourth, and fifth too.”

            “Did Miss Woodruff have any enemies?”

            “No.”

            “You don’t know of anyone that wasn’t fond of her or would want to cause her harm?”

            “Isn’t that what the word enemy means?” Capri snipped. When she noticed the chagrined look on Mel’s face, she softened the harshness of her tone. “I’m sorry, Detective Perrin. This is very difficult for me.”

            “I understand.”

            “No, I don’t think you do. Today was Nia’s birthday. We had it all planned out. Her mom was coming home early from vacation to surprise her. We were going to take her out for dinner. She already had her flowers, it was all …,” she paused. She could feel the tears trying to revisit her face but the touch of Mel’s hand gently caressing hers caused her to stare into the warm brandy color of his eyes instead.

            “You don’t have to fight how you feel, Miss Winters. You just lost someone very close to you. It’s okay to cry if you need to. It might do you some good.”

            Her eyebrows sloped, stunned by his empathetic demeanor. “Why are you this compassionate?”

            “Just because I have to grill you with questions, doesn’t mean I don’t care. And I promise you, I will do everything in my power to find your friend’s killer.”

            “Uh-huh. Well, forgive me if I don’t seem too reassured.”

            “Well, maybe this will help. We think we have a good idea of who the killer is.”

            Her eyes grew startlingly large. “Then why are you in here talking to me? Go get him and bury him under the jail!”

            “And that’s exactly what I intend to do … as soon as we find out who he is.”

            Capri’s face dropped. “Didn’t you just say you know who the killer is?”

            “Yes, but …”

            “And now, you’re saying you don’t know … who the killer … is?”

            “Yes, well, it’s complicated.”

            “Then un-complicate it.”

            “Miss Winters …”

            “I think we’ve established each other’s names, Detective Perrin. What are you not telling me?”

            Mel took a deep breath before delivering the news. “We think a serial killer known as The Florist may be responsible. Now, I don’t know how much …”

            Capri felt the air quickly leave her lungs as everything silenced around her. The beat of her heart slowed to a deathly pace before her head lowered to the table. “Not again.”

            “I’m sorry. W – what did you say? Are you okay? You look a little pale … like you just saw a ghost.”

            Capri lifted her eyes to his. The frightened glance almost stopped Mel’s heart. She opened her mouth to speak. Nothing but a soft whisper escaped.

            “The Florist killed my parents.”

            “What do you mean The Florist killed your parents?”

            “Freddie and Flora Winters …”

            “The first two victims?” he recalled. “They were killed in their home. One was poisoned, the other was shot, and they were found by … their daughter.”

            The heaviness of his sigh revealed a similar sentiment as the officer who spoke to her that fateful day. She was grateful for it then, but in the aftershock of her best friend’s murder, she saw the value in his thoughtfulness.

            “Detective, did you mean what you said, that you will do everything in your power to find Nia’s killer?”

            “Of course.”

            “Even if it meant … enlisting help?”

            “Absolutely.”

            “Unconventional help?”

            “Uh, I’m not sure I know where you’re going with this.”

            “I want to see The Florist brought to justice.”

            “And we will do just that.”

            “No, you’re not hearin’ me; I want to help you bring him to justice.”

            His head jolted back in response; a nervous laugh followed from his lips. “Miss Winters, I can’t allow you to be involved in the investigation.”

            “I wasn’t asking.”

            “Miss Winters …”

            “Detective.”

            “I can assure you that we want to catch The Florist as much as you do.”

            “I doubt that. For you and your colleagues, this is all about a career move. It’s that pat on the back the next morning from your peers and public acknowledgment followed by some kind of gaudy ceremony. For me, this is personal.”

            “For you, it’s too personal.”

            “Where is your boss?”

            “Excuse me?”

            “Please direct me to your boss,” she politely ordered. “I’m sure he’ll see things my way.”

            “Miss Winters, I understand your frustration ...”

            “Okay, Mister Understanding. Let me see if I can simplify this for you. You have no reason to keep me in here. It is obvious that I had nothing to do with Nia’s murder as I was preoccupied with taking my exam, and I’m sure you have that … cheeky partner of yours double-checking the information as we speak. I know how this works. When you release me from this room, I will find your boss and defend my reasons for needing to be on this case! Now the conversation can either happen sooner or later, Detective. Your call.”

            With one look, Mel could tell she was not playing. Every word that exited her mouth had purpose, and she was stubborn enough to plant her feet deep into the soils of the earth until she got what she wanted. If this woman isn’t going to school for law, she oughta be, he thought along the way to their next destination. A light knock on his boss’s door alerted him of their presence even though Mel could tell he was startled when he instantly stood to welcome the company he had in tow.

            “Perrin.”

            “Hey, Cap. You got a minute?”

            “For you? Always, but who’s your friend?”

            “This is Capricious Winters. She wanted to speak with you.”

            “Mornin’, ma’am. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

            “Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard, sir, but my best friend was murdered today.”

            “The newest Florist victim,” Mel clarified.

            “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

            “Thank you. I want to work the case.”

            He looked to Mel with a smile of disbelief. “Is this your idea of a joke, Detective?”

            “No, sir.”

            “I am more than qualified to help.”

            “Is that right? How’s that?”

            “I have knowledge of criminology, psychology and botany, not to mention an extensive familiarity with this case.”

            “Was it part of a class assignment?” he chortled with sarcasm to her annoyance.

            “As a matter of fact, it was. I chose it as the focal point of my undergrad senior project.”

            “Uh-huh. Uh, Miss Winters, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we have the situation under control.”

            “My enthusiasm is fueled by the fact that this maniac killed my parents. I’ve patiently waited ten years for the police to catch him where, not only did he add seventeen more people to his so-called garden, but one of them was my best friend. Quite frankly, sir, if you had this situation under control, I wouldn’t have to prepare myself for another funeral. Now, look. Y’all need all the help you can get, and I’m the best you’re going to find.”

            “And you think you can help how, with a personal quest for revenge?” Mel asked as Capri glared at him. “I don’t mean to offend you, but we have all the knowledge you’ve acquired in school as well as on-the-job training. If the only thing you can bring to the table is vengeance, then we’re better off without it.”

            “Excellent point, Perrin. I’ll tell you what, Miss Winters. If you can tell me one thing you know about The Florist that we don’t, I will consider having you on board. If not, I have to agree with Detective Perrin and respectfully decline.”

            Capri heaved a sigh before turning to view Nia’s mother in conversation with Mel’s partner at his desk. Suddenly, a light bulb flashed in her head. She returned her attention to the man in charge with a grin. “The flowers and poems he leaves, are you aware they’re directly related to each other?”

            “How so?”

            “In every poem, he reveals the meaning of the flower and the way he kills his victims. Since y’all have been waiting for the results of toxicology reports and autopsies to report your findings, I imagine you had not figured that out yet.”

            “That’s part of our procedure, Miss Winters.”

            “And we never publicized the contents of the notes, so how did you know they were poems?” Mel asked.

            “I’m the one who found my parents, remember? Y’all may have collected the evidence, but I memorized it. Beware the ides of April, the selfish and ungrateful, fall in pain and fade away, for your last sleep is fatal.”

            “That was left on Freddie Winters’s chest.”

            “Across his heart,” she corrected.

            “Okay, but there’s nothing in that poem about a flower.”

            “The flower was an oleander. Oleander means beware. The rest of the poem details the results of the poison, namely the phases of his death.”

            “Wait a minute,” Captain Grayson stopped her. “Oleander means beware? According to whom?”

            “Not whom, what. It’s called the language of flowers. Certain flowers express certain sentiments. Those who specialize in that knowledge provide floral arrangements for say … Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, weddings or funerals.”

            “Did they teach you that at Nolan?”

            “No. As I said, I have a personal interest in the matter. Captain, whoever The Florist is, he’s killed my entire family. Now, I don’t care if you and Detective Perrin help or not. I’m already working this case and if you can’t help me … then get the hell out of my way,” she growled.

            Captain Grayson worriedly shifted his eyes between Mel and Capri. He noticed a certain fire within her delivery that Mel exuded in his work ethic. Suddenly, lightning struck his brain. “So what you’re saying is, if I permit you to look at the files, you’ll be able to make the same correlation between the flowers, the poems and the deaths of all the victims?”

            “Yes, sir.”

            “Do you feel that this knowledge will help determine his next move?”

            “I think so. If we put all of our heads together, I have no doubt that we can find this guy before he claims his next victim.”

            “All right, Miss Winters. Welcome to the team. You’ll be working exclusively with Detective Perrin.”

            “What?” Mel exclaimed. “Captain, you just gave me a new partner.”

            “And now, I’m giving you another one. Miss Winters will be your, uh, secret partner,” he smiled. “This stays between the three of us, you understand? No one is to know about this.”

            “So, I’m supposed to come in here and act like whatever Miss Winters tells me came from my own think tank? Yeah, you know I can’t do that, Captain.”

            “Fine. Then I tell you what. If this arrangement works well, you can take her to Franco, compare notes and see if it matches the criminal profile him and his bunch mapped up.”

            “Officer Ethan Franco?” Capri inquired to their surprise.

            “He’s a forensic scientist now, but yes. How do you know him?”

            “He was the first officer on the scene when I called in my parents’ murder. I used to keep in contact with him, but we lost his number …”

            “We?”

            “Nia’s mom,” she told pointing behind her. “I lived with her after my parents were killed and then Nia and I got our own apartment when we enrolled at Nolan.”

            “Sounds like a reunion is due. Perrin, I need you to stash her in a hotel until we can secure a safer place for ‘er.”

            “Hotel? Whoa, whoa, hold up. If I’m working my regular shift here with Ward, and then driving to whatever hotel we stash her at to get her take on the cases, then reporting all that information back to you, when am I supposed to go home? I have to sleep sometime, Cap. I mean, that’s a lot.”

            “You’re absolutely right, Perrin. How thoughtless of me. She can stay with you.”

            “What?” they both shouted.

            “You can’t be serious!”

            “Do I look like I’m joking?”

            “Captain, sir, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean, why can’t I stay with Nia’s mom? She’s right out there!”

            “What part of no one else is to know about this was I unclear about, Miss Winters? Besides, if The Florist has killed three people close to you, you might be another target.”

            “I …,” she paused in terror. “I might be a target?”

            “Don’t worry, Miss Winters. In Detective Perrin’s custody, you’ll be more than safe. As long as he’s alive, you will be too, so nobody’s dying today.”

            “Did you just make me a guard dog, Cap? I got a life to live you know.”

            “Perrin, you are a single man living alone with no children, no roommate, and nobody occupying your house. What life?”

            “What about my belongings, my clothes?’

            “I’d like to think that your life means more than material things, Miss Winters. Besides, I’m sure Detective Perrin can accommodate your needs.”

            “With what?” he yelled.

            “We will discuss the details when you get back, Perrin. For now, please take Miss Winters to your house. I’ll keep an eye on your partner while he questions the victim’s mother. Miss Winters, you might want to say your goodbyes. Once you’re in protective custody, you won’t be able to speak to her. Not until this is over.”

            Capri nodded before Mel opened the door for her to exit the office. As soon as she called to Nia’s mother, she found herself smothered in a weepy hug. Ward took the opportunity to make an impromptu introduction.

            “Captain Grayson, Detective Perrin, this is Tristeza Woodruff.”

            “Ms. Woodruff,” Captain Grayson greeted. “My condolences.”

            “Thank you. Thank you very much. I – I just can’t believe this. Who would do this to her? Why would someone want to hurt my baby?”

            Mel stepped in to reach for her hand. “Ma’am, I want you to know that we are going to work diligently to find your daughter’s killer.”

            “And when you find him, kill him! I want him to burn in hell for taking my little girl from me!”

            “Duly noted,” Captain Grayson empathized. “Please follow Detective Ward. He has some questions for you.”