Traffic was a bit heavy this morning, so DeeDee Byerly only crept along Coast Village Road in her Beamer Z4. She knew it was ridiculous to drive such a sports car, but it was her rebellion against advancing years, along with high heels and red hair. Finally she passed her flower shop and stopped for a light.
To think she almost chose a location in downtown Santa Barbara! Wouldn’t have done half as well as here. Coast Village Road served the fat wallets of Montecito and also the hotels, restaurants and vacation condos along Cabrillo Blvd. and the beachfront. Kept her active and made retirement nicer for Walter and her. And helped her afford this car.
She made a right turn, then another into the parking lot behind her shop, pulling into the spot next to the delivery van marked DeeDee’s FLOWERS. Red Roses encircled the words. She unlocked the rear door of the shop and began opening up.
The only trouble with the location was size. The space was too small for the amount of business she did. The coolers, work area and storage were wholly inadequate. Everybody and everything was in somebody’s way. Nerves rubbed raw sometimes and good humor became a premium.
Today especially. At mid-morning she lamented, “What possessed me to open a flower shop? A travel agency would’ve been smarter.” Trimming flowers always did that to her, in this case white glads, three dozen of them, to go into funeral baskets.
“I’ll do that for you.”
She looked at Gabriella, her newest employee. Such lovely eyes, large, brown and soft. “Thank you, thank you.” She rubbed her aching hands. “Whatever you do in life, dear, don’t get arthritis in your thumbs. You use them for everything.”
“I’m sorry, DeeDee.”
“Pay me no mind, child. I could be worse off, like leukemia or leprosy.”
Where, oh where, was Karen La Rocca? She was her senior employee, and her absence caused this morning’s chaos.
“Does anyone know what’s bothering Karen? This is the second time she’s been late this week, and when she’s here she’s so distracted. The other day she sent a funeral wreath to a wedding. The bride burst into tears. She thought her ex-boyfriend sent it.”
Sharon, another of her girls, said, “A wreath would’ve been appropriate at my wedding. “
“Maybe we should offer them as specials.”
The phone rang. “This is DeeDee… Who did you say you were?… Of course I remember Jan Wedgerton, how are you?” She didn’t know her, she didn’t think. “Someone forgot to order flowers for your banquet? What a shame… You came to the right place… How many tables?… Of course we can handle it.”
She hung up and said, “Sorry, girls, she wants arrangements for 12 tables and a dais-by tomorrow night.” That earned a collective groan.
“Why did you take it, DeeDee, when you know how busy we are?”
Gretchen was not being accusatory. She merely had an inquiring mind, as a person attending Santa Barbara City College should. A question deserved an answer.
“I suspect none of you sweet young things can possibly understand why, but I’ll try to explain. You’ve all heard of the Great Depression and the hard times of the 1930s.” She made a fluttery gesture with her hands. “Of course, I don’t remember that long ago, either.” Another flutter. “Actually I was told about it-years later.” That earned a laugh. “My daddy had a store and there were often no orders and no money. So, it’s foreign to my nature to turn away money. You might say it’s bad for business.” Another laugh. “Darlings, we’ll find some way to fill the order. Meanwhile I doubled my price. You can all expect an extra twenty in your paycheck.”
Karen La Rocca came in about eleven, looking harried and guilty. She revealed her origins, lovely dark hair, olive complexion, an eye-popping figure and sultry brown eyes. There was an aura of toughness-maybe just worldliness-to her. But DeeDee figured it was the garland tattooed on Karen’s upper arm that made her think so. Tattooed women were seen as often as nose rings in her day.
“Let’s go into my office,” she said and closed the door. “I know I have no right to butt into your life, Karen, but I have a business to run. When your affairs interfere with that, I-”
“I’m sorry, I know I’ve let you down.” Her eyes filled with tears.
DeeDee patted her hand. “And I’m sorry to be such a scold. I just wish… Karen, something is bothering you. I’d like to help if I can.”
Karen blew into a tissue and reached into her purse, extracting a piece of notepaper. DeeDee accepted it and read:
Please don’t tell anyone you have Jamie.
He’s in great danger.
I’ll be back for him as soon as I can.
“Where did you get this?”
“It was in Jamie’s bag.”
“Who is Jamie?”
“He’s a friend of my son.”
She knew Karen had a son, but he was awfully young. “How old is Jamie?”
“I’m not sure, but he and Tommy are about the same age, going on three. They met in Alameda Park, you know, the one with the play castle.” DeeDee nodded. “They got along famously from the start. Tommy begged to go back to the park to see his friend.”
Telling a cohesive story was not Karen’s forte. “How did you get this note?”
“Last Tuesday morning I took the day off, remember?” DeeDee nodded again. “JoAnn, that’s Jamie’s mother, showed up at my door. Could I babysit him for a couple of hours while she went on a job interview? I said sure, Tommy would be thrilled.”
“And she never came back for him?”
Karen gaped at her. “How did you know?”
“The note, obviously. You found it in his bag?”
“Jamie had an accident and needed a change. There was a picture of JoAnn, too.”
“So fascinating! She knew she wasn’t coming back and wanted her son to remember her.” She paced across the office. “How romantic! It’s like an old novel by one of the Bronte’s.”
“What am I going to do, DeeDee? I like Jamie, he’s a good boy, but I can’t keep him. Tommy’s nursery school let him bring a friend this week, but I know they’ll want to be paid and I can’t afford it.”
“Walter and I can help there.”
“Then there’s Marco, my boyfriend. He’s okay with Tommy, but he doesn’t want me to have another kid. I’d hate to lose Marco, DeeDee. I’ve been hiding Jamie from him all week, as it is.”
Where do young women come up with these guys? But she said, “One problem at a time, Karen.” She thought a moment. “We ought to be able to locate this JoAnn. What’s her last name?’
Karen grimaced, showing teeth. “That’s just it, I don’t know. I only met her in the park that once. We only exchanged first names.”
“You must have talked about something.“
“Sure, little boys and potty training.” Karen sighed. “I got the impression she was new to Santa Barbara.”
“You must have told her your last name. She knew where you lived.”
“That’s because my place fronts the park. I pointed it out to her. She also pointed, but further up Garden Street.” Karen moaned. “DeeDee, I went for blocks all around, dragging Jamie, showing her picture. Nothing. It’s like the woman doesn’t exist.”
DeeDee kept shaking her head. “She could be the tooth fairy, I suppose. Let me see her picture.”
The black and white photo was of a thoroughly undistinguished-looking woman, perhaps in her late 20s. “What color is her hair?”
Karen hesitated. “Light brown, looks natural.”
“Eyes?”
“Blue-green, light anyway, I didn’t pay much attention.”
“Does the boy look like her?”
“Not much, I guess, he’s a towhead, blue eyes.” She shrugged. “I just assumed he was her son, didn’t question it.”
“Of course he is.” She turned back to Karen. “May I keep this?” Karen agreed. “I’ll ask Walter to make some discreet inquiries. I’m sure he’ll come up with something. Meanwhile, will you please, please, please try to forget all this and help me with these flowers? I’m going nuts.”
Karen headed for the door. “I’ll go to work at once.”
Walter entered her office soon afterward. “Excuse me, ma’am.” He attempted a southern drawl. “Could you tell me where I might find a shop called Doreen’s Flowers?”
She had to laugh. “I believe you want DeeDee’s Flowers, kind sir.”
“Have I ever told you how much I hate that name?” His normal voice now.
“Incessantly.” She sighed. “I guess you want the set-up line. Okay, I was born Doreen Dodd, everybody calls me DeeDee, I’ve always been called DeeDee, what’s wrong with DeeDee?”
“Only B-girls in sleazy dives are called DeeDee. It’s a certified fact.”
“Last time it was drooling debutantes.”
“Them, too.”
“My favorite was fizzy headed flappers.”
He grinned at her. “You’re the same old carrot top I married. I don’t know how you do it.”
“It’s called Golden Surprise and comes in a bottle.” She grimaced. “If you’re noticing my hair, the roots must be showing. We’re so busy here I can’t even get to the hairdresser.”
His inspection lowered. “I like your outfit.”
She wore a pants suit, orange in color, sort of clingy. “Thank you, sir.”
“You look like a Popsicle.”
“Ready to melt?”
“Don’t I wish.”
He bent to kiss her, not easy since he was a foot taller. “You’ll shock my girls,” she whispered, then turned her cheek. “I thought I gave you a rain check this morning.”
“Skies are clear today.”
“I have it on reliable authority that rain showers, quite heavy at times, are forecast for tonight.”
“Weather in California can be so changeable.”
“Not to worry.” She patted his cheek. “What are you doing here at this hour? I thought you had a doctor’s appointment.”
“That’s tomorrow. My urologist wants to put me on Viagra.”
“That you don’t need, and I still don’t know why you’re here. The homeless have all found housing?”
“Don’t I wish. Actually I heard some news on the radio. Don’t you know a woman named Gould?”
“I know a Lorna Gould.”
“Does she have a son Harry?”
“Lorna brags about him constantly.”
Walter grimaced. “Not any more she doesn’t-unless there are two Harry Goulds in town. One of them, a young lawyer, shot himself in his office above La Arcada.”
She gasped. “Harry a suicide? Lord, Walter, Lorna will be beside herself. I’d better go to her.”
“I thought you might want to, that’s why I stopped by.”
“I’m glad you did but for another reason.” She told him about Jamie. “Would you look into it, try to find this JoAnn? I told Karen you would.”
“Look into what? Doreen, the woman just went off for a few days. She’ll be back for the kid.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Okay, try this. She heisted the kid somewhere, probably from a supermarket, got cold feet, and dumped him on Karen. The only thing to do is phone Children’s Services and have it over with.”
“What about the note? It says Jamie’s in danger.”
“Nonsense. The note cinches it. This JoAnn-if that’s her real name, which I doubt-doesn’t want to go to the slammer for kidnapping. She does what anyone would do, concoct the danger bit so a couple of naives like you and Karen will hold on to the kid long enough for her to disappear without a trace.”
“You’re being your insufferable best, Walter.”
“I can do better. How long has the woman been gone, a week? That’s long enough. Time the kid was returned to his lawful parents. They’re probably beside themselves.”
She gaped at him. “God, how awful if you’re right.”
“This is a job for the police, Doreen. You know someone on the force, don’t you? Some girl who used to work for you?”
“Sure, Lupe Hernandez, looks Latina but was raised Anglo. She’s lost between cultures and doesn’t know where she belongs. Lupe’s had a terrible start in life. She was-”
“Oh yes, she’s the shoplifter who took-”
“Don’t be silly. She just helped herself to-“
“After which the shoplifted took the shoplifter under her wing, gave her a job, paid for college, loaned her the down payment on her house-”
“All of which she repaid. Lupe’s doing wonderfully. She just made detective.”
“Detective? My, the caliber of your friends is improving.”