All Chapters of The Plants Know What You Did: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Steven wrote the name down.“Daniel.”The pothos shivered beneath my fingers, although there was no breeze strong enough to move it. “That’s what she kept saying.”“Last name?”“I don’t know.”“Relationship?”“I don’t know.”“Description?”I looked at him.Steven lowered his notebook. “Right. Plant.”“Thank you.”“I’ve been doing this for seven years, Ivy. Occasionally, I forget which witness I’m interviewing.”“You’re not interviewing it. I am.”“Then ask better questions.”I narrowed my eyes at him. The corner of his mouth moved.Behind me, Mabel said, “I still like him.”“Stay out of this.”Steven glanced toward the other greenhouse. “Mabel?”“Who else?”He nodded as though that explained everything, then turned his attention back to the pothos. Unfortunately, Steven’s questions were good ones. They were also the kind plants were notoriously bad at answering.Human beings organized the world through names, dates, addresses, and relationships. Plants did not particularly care that t

Steven arrived eleven minutes later with Detective Lena Park in the passenger seat.I knew it had been eleven minutes because I had spent every one of them standing beside Judith Mercer’s driveway trying not to interrogate the Japanese maple into botanical exhaustion. I had also called Mari.She informed me that she would handle the supplier call, threatened to deduct the time from my nonexistent vacation allowance, and hung up. The maple had been considerably more cooperative.Steven parked behind my truck. Lena climbed out first, took one look at me standing beside a tree, and sighed. “I should have known.”“Good morning to you, too.”Detective Lena Park was five-foot-four on a generous day and somehow managed to make Steven look like the less intimidating member of their partnership. Her black hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and she wore dark slacks, a burgundy blouse and the expression of a woman whose morning had already contained too many idiots.I liked her immensely.Stev

Cam was still staring at the yard when I opened the back door. Dad had noticed.Of course he had. Thomas Faylan had spent more than three decades married to my mother, thirty-two years raising me, and most of his adult life dealing with people who thought being quiet made them subtle. Cam had absolutely no chance.“What?” Dad asked.Cam blinked. “What?”“That.” Dad gestured at his face. “Whatever that was.”“I am not certain what you mean.”“Sure.”I stepped onto the porch. “He means the part where you and Reginald suddenly started acting like the lawn had personally offended you.”Cam’s eyes shifted to me. There. Too quick. Too careful.Got you.“You felt it,” I said.“Felt what?”“Oh, don’t do that.”“I asked a question.”“You answered mine.”Dad looked between us. “I’m going to need somebody to start using nouns.”“I felt something through the property. All of it, I think. The plants, the trees, maybe even the grass. Reginald noticed. So did Cam.”Dad turned to Cam. Cam considered

Steven was quiet for long enough that I checked my phone to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.“What kind of plant?” he finally asked.“That is your first question?”“You said one of your plants is outside the rental. I need to know what I’m looking for.”“Hydrangea.”“Useful.”“Pink. Probably about four feet tall by now, assuming nobody has committed crimes against pruning.”“Ivy.”“I’m looking up the address.”I reached the office and dropped into my chair, waking the computer with considerably more force than necessary. Our customer database held years of invoices, delivery records, and landscaping notes, but searching for an address required actually having the address.“Give it to me again.”Steven did. I typed it in. Nothing.“Not a customer.”“So how did your plant get there?”“I said one of mine. That doesn’t necessarily mean I sold it to whoever owns the property.”I widened the search to the street name. Seven results. One caught my attention immediately. “Oh.”“What?”“Thre

Steven was silent for several seconds.“Has Judith ever talked to you?”“Not that I remember.”“Would the plants?”I stopped. That was a much better question. “Maybe.”I pulled up Judith’s customer history. The hydrangeas had been her only purchase under her own name, three years earlier, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t visited Ivy & Rose since then.“You’re thinking.”“I do that occasionally.”“Should I be worried?”“Usually.”I left the office and headed for the main greenhouse. Three years was an eternity for most of our retail stock, but not everything left quickly. Several mature display plants had occupied the same places for years, and Mabel had been listening to customers since before Judith bought the hydrangeas.“Mabel?”“Yes?”“Do you remember Judith Mercer?”Recognition came immediately.I stopped walking. “You do.”“Of course.”“Mabel.”“What?”“You have listened to me talk about a missing woman for four days.”“Yes.”“And you knew her?”“You did not ask.”I closed my eye