jingle? I started back for the workroom only to hear a rustle of leaves. I stopped and turned to scan the room, my gaze landing on two seven-foot-tall dieffenbachia plants in the back corner. Also called dumb cane, the big-leaved giants made terrific decorating accents. Dieffenbachia amoena had green and white variegated leaves, while the striking leaves of ‘Rudolph Roehrs’ were pale chartreuse with dark green edges and veins.
I saw a dead leaf lying on the ground in front of one plant and bent to pick it up. That’s when I noticed a pair of brown boots behind one of the large pots. The boots came with a pair of green and tan camouflage pants. I jumped back. Someone was crouched behind the plants.
“Is the coast clear?” a voice whispered.
“What?” I asked, backing toward the curtain.
A branch parted and a green face appeared. “Is the man across the street gone?”
“Oliver?”
Moving cautiously, he stepped out from behind the plants, glancing around as though he expected to be attacked by enemy soldiers. Wearing camouflage fatigues and face paint, he held a green-gloved finger to his lips, then jerked his head toward the front door and whispered, “Outside. Sitting on the cement bench directly across the street. Is he still there?”
Keeping one eye on Oliver, I looked out the bay window at the courthouse lawn. “All I see are two elderly women on the bench.”
“He was there a minute ago.”
“Who was?”
“The man. The feds. Big gov. Big Bro—they’re always watching, you know. You can’t be too careful.”
I didn’t know what to say. I glanced out again and spotted a policeman checking parking meters along the courthouse side of the street. Was that the man he’d seen?
He motioned me away from the window. “I’m on a covert operation”—he glanced over his shoulders—“for bamboo.”
“Bamboo—as in plants?”
“Yes, ma’am. Tools of the trade. The Japanese used bamboo shoots as instruments of torture in World War Two.” He held out his hand to demonstrate, looking particularly gleeful. “You jam those suckers right under the fingernails. The pain is unbearable.”
Well, that was creepy. “So . . . why do you want the plants?” Did I really want to know?
He straightened with a jerk, clicked his heels together, and saluted. “Ma’am, the commander has requisitioned them, ma’am. Will you comply?”
“If you stop talking to me like I work at the PX.”
Oliver blinked several times. “You know what a PX is?”
“It’s a post exchange, like a general store. I watch M.A.S.H. reruns.”
“Cool. So do you have bamboo plants?”
“You’re in luck. We got a new shipment in two days ago. They’re very popular now.”
“The commander always has to be on top of the latest trend, ma’am.”
“Are you talking about your mother? Do you mean that Delphi sent you here ?”
“She didn’t specify where, ma’am.”
That made more sense. I couldn’t imagine Delphi willingly giving me her business. “Thanks, Oliver.”
He placed his hand on my shoulder and said very solemnly, “You’re O.O.T.T.O.”
I’d never heard that one on M.A.S.H. Out-and-out titillating turn-on? Probably not. “What is O.O.T.T.O.?”
He glanced around, then said quietly, “One of the trusted ones. Remember that.”
Time to move on. I pulled a plant from the display in the bay window. “The bamboo plants come in these decorative twelve-inch clay pots. Will that be okay?”
At his single nod, I asked, “How many do you need?”
“Thr—four.”
“I’ll bring out the others. Have a seat.”
Oliver followed me to the workroom instead. As I opened one of the walk-in coolers, he gazed curiously around the busy room. “A person could really hide out in here.”
Inside the cooler I stepped around deep buckets of blossoms, looking for the bamboo plants. “It’s amazing how quickly Libby’s art shop came together,” I said, making conversation.
“It’s not Libby’s shop,”
I saw a dead leaf lying on the ground in front of one plant and bent to pick it up. That’s when I noticed a pair of brown boots behind one of the large pots. The boots came with a pair of green and tan camouflage pants. I jumped back. Someone was crouched behind the plants.
“Is the coast clear?” a voice whispered.
“What?” I asked, backing toward the curtain.
A branch parted and a green face appeared. “Is the man across the street gone?”
“Oliver?”
Moving cautiously, he stepped out from behind the plants, glancing around as though he expected to be attacked by enemy soldiers. Wearing camouflage fatigues and face paint, he held a green-gloved finger to his lips, then jerked his head toward the front door and whispered, “Outside. Sitting on the cement bench directly across the street. Is he still there?”
Keeping one eye on Oliver, I looked out the bay window at the courthouse lawn. “All I see are two elderly women on the bench.”
“He was there a minute ago.”
“Who was?”
“The man. The feds. Big gov. Big Bro—they’re always watching, you know. You can’t be too careful.”
I didn’t know what to say. I glanced out again and spotted a policeman checking parking meters along the courthouse side of the street. Was that the man he’d seen?
He motioned me away from the window. “I’m on a covert operation”—he glanced over his shoulders—“for bamboo.”
“Bamboo—as in plants?”
“Yes, ma’am. Tools of the trade. The Japanese used bamboo shoots as instruments of torture in World War Two.” He held out his hand to demonstrate, looking particularly gleeful. “You jam those suckers right under the fingernails. The pain is unbearable.”
Well, that was creepy. “So . . . why do you want the plants?” Did I really want to know?
He straightened with a jerk, clicked his heels together, and saluted. “Ma’am, the commander has requisitioned them, ma’am. Will you comply?”
“If you stop talking to me like I work at the PX.”
Oliver blinked several times. “You know what a PX is?”
“It’s a post exchange, like a general store. I watch M.A.S.H. reruns.”
“Cool. So do you have bamboo plants?”
“You’re in luck. We got a new shipment in two days ago. They’re very popular now.”
“The commander always has to be on top of the latest trend, ma’am.”
“Are you talking about your mother? Do you mean that Delphi sent you here ?”
“She didn’t specify where, ma’am.”
That made more sense. I couldn’t imagine Delphi willingly giving me her business. “Thanks, Oliver.”
He placed his hand on my shoulder and said very solemnly, “You’re O.O.T.T.O.”
I’d never heard that one on M.A.S.H. Out-and-out titillating turn-on? Probably not. “What is O.O.T.T.O.?”
He glanced around, then said quietly, “One of the trusted ones. Remember that.”
Time to move on. I pulled a plant from the display in the bay window. “The bamboo plants come in these decorative twelve-inch clay pots. Will that be okay?”
At his single nod, I asked, “How many do you need?”
“Thr—four.”
“I’ll bring out the others. Have a seat.”
Oliver followed me to the workroom instead. As I opened one of the walk-in coolers, he gazed curiously around the busy room. “A person could really hide out in here.”
Inside the cooler I stepped around deep buckets of blossoms, looking for the bamboo plants. “It’s amazing how quickly Libby’s art shop came together,” I said, making conversation.
“It’s not Libby’s shop,”
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