Free A Root Awakening: A Flower Shop Mystery by Kate Collins Page B

an ego. The way he was posing reminded me of a matador.”
    Rosa held the petal beneath her nose, inhaling the scent. “How odd that you should say that. In my language,
matador
means ‘killer.’” She let that sink in. “After you told Adrian that Sergio had not had a heart attack, I suppose he tried to blame me for the fall.”
    “I really can’t talk about an ongoing investigation, Rosa.”
    She slapped her hand on the table. “Why not? I am the one who hired you.”
    Oh, right. Awkward. Quite a temper she had there, too.
    She wagged her finger at me. “You don’t want to say anything because Adrian
did
blame me. Am I right?”
    I inserted the last carnation. “I wouldn’t be too concerned about what anyone else says. Suspects always point the finger at someone else.”
    Rosa muttered something about Adrian in Spanish, then said, “When will you talk to the rest of the crew?”
    I tore off a big piece of wrapping paper and laid it on the table. “We’re planning to go back around five this evening.”
    “Don’t do that yet.”
    That did it.
    “Rosa, you have to let Marco and me run this investigation. We need to interview the men while the incident is still fresh in their minds.”
    With a
Pffft
, she waved away my protest as though it were inconsequential. “I’m not talking about the investigation.” She pointed to the arrangement. “The flowers. You’re missing a carnation in the back.”
    I swiveled the pot for a look. Damn, she was right. The arrangement wasn’t balanced. How had I missed it?
    “See?” she said brightly. “I’m a natural.”
    *   *   *
    “You hired the woman who hired
us
?” My husband gazed at me as though I’d lost my mind. We were on our way to the HHI headquarters and I’d just broken the news about my new employee.
    “Rosa kind of hired herself. And actually she did help out a lot today. She seems to be a fast learner.”
    Marco shook his head. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Abby.”
    “I don’t, either, but we really need the extra pair of hands, and Lottie thinks she’ll liven things up. You have to admit Rosa is colorful.”
    “I’m not saying she won’t work out. It’s just—I don’t know.”
    “The situation’s no different than if Grace hired us to investigate something for her. Besides, Rosa’s going to work only two mornings a week. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Was I trying to convince Marco or myself?
    “I hope so.” Marco pulled into a customer parking spot in front of the HHI building and shut off the motor. A gated security fence on the right side of the building enclosed the employee parking lot, where three men in navy coveralls were standing in front of a pickup truck having a conversation.
    When the largest of the men separated from the group, unchained a big black Harley, and walked it through the open gates, Marco said, “That must be Sam Walker. Let’s catch him before he takes off.”
    I got out of the car and pulled my notepad and pen out of my shoulder bag as I hurried to keep up with Marco’s rapid strides.
    “Mr. Walker?” he called.
    The man was about to mount the motorcycle, but paused to watch us approach, giving me a vertical sweep. “Yeah?”
    Standing well above six feet tall and with a wrestler’s build, Sam wore his brown hair short on the sides and straight up on top like a rooster, with the tips dyed blond.
    Marco displayed his license and introduced us. “We’re investigating Sergio Marin’s fall. We’d like to ask you a few routine questions.”
    Wrestler Sam, as I’d decided to refer to him in my notes, put the kickstand down and turned toward us,folding his thick arms across his chest. “You one of them insurance cops?”
    “No,” Marco said. “This is a private investigation. I’m not sure you’ve heard the latest news, but doctors haven’t found any medical condition that might have precipitated Sergio’s accident, which leaves it a puzzle as to why it happened. Can you