Part 13 (2/2)
She had enlarged the drying shed a few years ago when she had expanded her business. Organically grown herbs were a top item in today's market, and nearly a third of her profits came from the sale of medicinal herbs. Her list of herbs was quite extensive, everything from anise to yarrow. Some of the herbs grew quite nicely in the greenhouses, others she cultivated in warm weather in her gardens; but several were wild specimens found in the surrounding woods. She had learned everything she knew about medicinal herbs from Granny, who had learned the art of healing with herbs from her two grandmothers, one a full-blooded Cherokee and the other a descendant of Celtic Druids. She had been taught that both her Native American ancestors and her Scots-Irish ancestors shared a respect for nature. The Cherokees, as did most other tribes, lived in harmony with nature and used herbs as a means of drawing healing powers from the universe.
The drying shed, situated behind the greenhouses, was built of wood and gla.s.s, with forced-air drying. Granny and Wallace had made a simple solar hot-air device from a length of dryer hose, but she had replaced the homemade system with a propane forced-air heater. Propane was a better choice than electricity because it was more efficient and reliable.
Genny opened the shed door, then closed it behind her quickly. Her gaze scanned the interior of the five-hundred-square-foot area. She had used rafters, screens, and racks to make full use of the s.p.a.ce. In one area she had also used a ”raised” floor, which was a framework of beams covered with permeable sisal cloth.
After making her way through the room, visually checking the dried herbs, Genny made a note of what needed to be processed soon. She always kept a personal supply of processed herbs to share with family and close friends. From time to time various Cherokee County residents came to her for potions, remedies, and such like.
Dried herbs could not be kept indefinitely, of course, not without losing their healing properties. Granny had taught her that medicinal plants could be kept only as long as their growing cycle. If a flower blooms every year, it can be stored for only a year. And if an herb seed matures in two years, then the seeds cannot be kept longer than two years.
Just as Genny emerged from the drying shed, she saw Sally standing near the back porch. Sally and Wallace were deep in conversation. The two were of a similar age and seemed to have a great deal in common. Wallace was known as the town idiot and Sally the town eccentric. Both possessed hearts of gold.
Perhaps what this world needs is more idiots and eccentrics.
Sally had brought along Peter and Paul, her bloodhounds. The two red dogs, each weighing well over a hundred pounds, frolicked in the suns.h.i.+ne with Drudwyn. The animals were old friends, too.
Sally threw up a hand and waved when she saw Genny, then called out to her, ”Have you talked to Jazzy today?”
Genny shook her head. When she approached Sally and Wallace, she asked, ”Why did you ask about Jazzy? Is something wrong?”
”Don't know for sure.” Sally lifted a container of snuff from her pocket, flipped the lid, and, using a small stick, packed the finely ground tobacco in the hollow between gum and jaw. ”I tried calling her a couple of times and didn't get no answer at her apartment, and the folks at the restaurant said she had called them to say she wouldn't be in this morning.”
”That doesn't sound like Jazzy, does it? Did you try her cell phone? Maybe she went out of town for some reason?”
”No answer on her cell phone,” Sally said. ”Besides, that gal don't leave Cherokee County without telling me. She knows I'm a worrier.”
”Did whoever you spoke to at the restaurant say Jazzy was sick?”
”I talked to Tiffany. She was the one who talked to Jazzy, and she told me Jazzy didn't give her a reason.”
”I hope Miss Jazzy isn't sick,” Wallace said. ”Genny, maybe you should take her some of our medicine.”
”I'll try to get in touch with her this afternoon, and if I can't contact her, I'll drive into town this evening,” Genny said.
”You know Jamie Upton is back in town.” Sally spit out a dark brown liquid on the ground, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. ”I wish he'd stay away.” Sally grunted. ”h.e.l.l, I wish he'd drop dead. Mark my words, one of these days somebody'll kill that no-good rascal.”
”Do you think Jazzy's with Jamie?” Genny hoped and prayed not. Jamie had given Jazzy nothing but grief for as long as they'd known each other, which was just about all their lives.
”She swore to me that she wouldn't have nothing to do with him this time. I sure do hate that things didn't work out with her and Jacob. That's what my gal needs-a good man who'd treat her right.”
”Why don't you and Wallace go on into the s.h.i.+pping room and I'll give Jazzy a call before I join you?” Genny offered Sally a forced smile, then hurried into the house.
She lifted the receiver from the wall phone and dialed Jazzy's home number. The phone rang repeatedly, then the answering machine picked up. Genny tried the cell phone. Voice mail. After that she tried the restaurant.
”Tiffany, this is Genny Madoc. Has Jazzy come in yet?”
”Yes, ma'am, she just showed up. I don't know what's going on, but we're having an epidemic of no-shows. First Jazzy didn't come in, then Lois called to say one of her kids was sick and Misty hasn't shown up for the afternoon s.h.i.+ft.”
”Sorry y'all are having a problem,” Genny said. ”Would you mind putting me through to the business line in Jazzy's office?”
”Sure thing.”
Jazzy picked up on the third ring. ”Jasmine Talbot. How may I help you?”
”Next time you decide not to answer your phone or show up for work, you'd better call Sally so she won't worry about you.”
”G.o.d, Genny, tell her I'm sorry. But...well, I-”
”What's wrong?”
”I need to see you. I want you to give me a reading.”
”What's happened? Is it Jamie?”
”He came to see me last night.”
”Did you-”
”No. I made him leave. At gunpoint.”
A cold s.h.i.+ver danced along Genny's nerve endings. ”Come out around five-thirty. I'll make sure Sally and Wallace are gone for the day.”
”Genny?”
”What?”
”I'm scared.”
”Of Jamie?”
”Yes, of Jamie. And of myself. I believe I could have actually shot him last night. I-I wanted him dead.”
Brian MacKinnon had put in a phone call to Senator Everett first thing that morning. He needed to know what Dallas Sloan was doing in Cherokee Pointe. If he'd been on better terms with Jacob Butler, he would have asked him about the FBI agent. The two seemed d.a.m.n chummy at breakfast this morning. Jacob had been especially reluctant to talk to the press about the two recent murders. But murder in their relatively crime-free county was big news. And two sacrificial murders was front-page headline news.
Had Jacob asked for FBI a.s.sistance? The Cherokee Pointe Herald readers had a right to know, didn't they? And hundreds of WMMK viewers had been calling the ”Have Your Say” hotline since the morning of the first murder.
Besides, he had a burning need to find out everything he could about the man who was interested in Genny. Having Pierpont as a rival was bad enough, but where Pierpont was merely a minor thorn in his side, Agent Sloan might prove to be real compet.i.tion.
Chapter 11.
While Jacob was out of the office tending to business earlier in the day, Dallas had made a phone call to Teri Nash. He'd given her an update on the second murder and asked her if Linc Hughes had finished with the profile he'd promised to compose from the information Dallas had given him on the murders in Mobile.
”Fax me whatever Sheriff Butler will share with you and I'll get it to Linc and he can compare the murders in Mobile to the ones in Cherokee Pointe,” Teri had told him. ”Rutherford's got him working night and day on another case right now.”
Rutherford had given Dallas about as much leeway as he was going to. The guy could be a real p.r.i.c.k sometimes, a real stickler for rules and regulations. Rutherford had given him a couple of verbal reprimands and threatened him with suspension for a few weeks or even months. Dallas figured that he'd have to take a leave of absence to avoid getting suspended.
<script>