The Heirloom Murders - Kathleen Ernst [113]
“I’m sorry if I seemed distant these past few days,” Dellyn had told her at the hospital. “The thing is, when I showed Markus Old World’s gardens that day … well, it was fun! I enjoyed talking with him. But your cop friend saw me and Markus together at Sasso’s, and he didn’t seem to like it. Suddenly the whole situation seemed weird. I didn’t know what to tell you.”
Chloe had urged Dellyn to forget her worries, and she’d promised to bring Dellyn a few personal items from home. Now Chloe parked on the street, as if her friend might pull into the driveway any moment. Being here was a reminder that Dellyn’s problems dwarfed her own. I pray that memories of our carefree childhood provide what you need to make your own way, Bonnie had written. The wording was a little odd, but the sentiment …
Chloe caught her breath. She let Bonnie’s words slide sideways in her mind, exposing a new angle, just as a single facet in the engagement ring had reflected light. Then she got out of the car.
In the garden, the playhouse Mr. Burke had built for his daughters was almost hidden behind a trellised wall of pea vines. The child-sized cottage looked forlorn. The cheery paint was faded and chipped. The door hung ajar on rusted hinges. A few leaves had blown inside.
Chloe dropped to her knees, pushed the door open, and stuck head and shoulders inside. The package was propped against the front wall. She grabbed it, and back-scrambled into the sun.
She held a plastic storage bag. One of Mrs. Burke’s garden journals was sealed inside with a single piece of loose paper.
Dellyn won’t mind that I look, Chloe thought as she opened the bag. She read the paper first:
Dear Dellyn,
I knew you’d be clever enough to find this. I hid these things from Edwin and Simon, but I couldn’t bear to destroy them. Look at the page I’ve marked in Mom’s journal. Edwin has a theory that plant material and whey can be processed into something nutritious and medicinal, easy and inexpensive to make and ship to the world’s hungry. That sounds wonderful, but AgriFutures is about power and profits, not philanthropy. Grandma and Mom were wise enough to preserve these seeds and knowledge for all these years. I couldn’t bear to see those things feed Simon’s greed. I think you should take all the information to UW scientists. Let them figure it out and—if the process works—do something good with it.
Love always,
Bonnie
The garden journal was dated 1954—the year Dellyn had thought her mom skipped writing because of newborn Bonnie. Bonnie had marked a page headed with one underlined word: Käseklee. Chloe read how seeds had been shared with Mrs. Burke’s great-grandmother by Clarissa Wood, another Eagle woman who’d loved gardening. How Clarissa had gotten the seeds from a Swiss immigrant. What he’d told her about its healing properties, and what she’d discovered when her own curiosity drove her to learn more.
Taped to the page was Bonnie’s final contribution—a small packet of seeds, plucked from her mother’s stash before Edwin Guest had a chance to snatch it. Chloe touched it reverently before slipping the journal and Bonnie’s letter back into the plastic bag.
As she started to rise she glimpsed movement across the yard. Sonia Padopolous was about to scurry toward the lilac hedge marking the property line.
“Hey!” Chloe called. “Sonia!”
Sonia turned, one hand clutched across her heart. Her face crumpled when she saw Chloe, but something kept her rooted.
Chloe skirted the garden to join her. “What are you doing here?”
“I was … I just …” Sonia threw a nervous glance toward the house.
Chloe followed her gaze and she saw a cardboard carton on the back step. “What’s that?”
“Just something I borrowed,” Sonia said airily.
“Why are you returning it now? Do you know that Dellyn’s in the hospital?”
“Oh, yes. I just got off the phone with … oh.” Sonia put one hand over her mouth.
Chloe went to investigate. Sonia trailed along behind. Chloe pulled open the box flaps and saw a stack