Mulch ado about nothing

he’s the instructor who replaced her. Maybe he has a crazy need to publicize himself and his marigolds.”
    Jane replied, “I’m sure he, like Julie, is asked to give a lot of talks to groups. Probably more than he wants to do. And the marigolds aren’t even on sale for a couple more years, he said.“
    “I was thinking about what Miss Winstead said about him.”
    Jane thought a moment. “Do you suppose her version is the whole truth?“
    “I wondered that as well,“ Shelley admitted. “But Eastman is obviously a man determined to get ahead. Promote himself. Make lots of money. Maybe what he really wants is fame.“
    “He is a difficult man to like. But I don’t think any of these theories hold water.”
    Shifting gears, Shelley asked, “Mel hasn’t been around much, has he?“
    “He’s busy with three different cases at once,“ Jane said. “He’s been calling me at intervals, but I haven’t actually laid eyes on him for a couple days.“
    “Has he told you anything more about Julie Jackson?“
    “He’s being silent as the grave about it. Says things are coming along in the investigation.”
    Shelley took a sip of her iced tea she’d brought along in a big, remarkably ugly purple plastic carafe. “Doesn’t want us meddling in a neighborhood crime? ”
    Jane nodded. “I guess so. But we’ve been so much help to him before, you’d think he’d appreciate our skills,“ she said with a wry smile.
    The door of a vehicle slammed in Shelley’s driveway and she got up, saying, “Just a minute. I’ll be back.”
    It was actually fifteen minutes before Shelley got back, saying, “That was the garden place. “
    “What garden place?“
    “The one where your Mike works. I called them out to spruce up my yard.“
    “Shelley!“ Jane exclaimed. “That’s cheating! The class is coming to our yards the same day. You’re going to show off and make me look even worse.“
    “You could have thought of it,“ Shelley said calmly. “Come see what they’ve done.”
    The formerly rather bland backyard had two young men mowing and using a Weed Eater around the edges of the lawn. A multitude of gorgeous plants in planters of every variety were sitting around the edge of the patio. A replica of an old-fashioned wooden wheelbarrow was full of yellow nasturtiums; a large watering can spilled out purple petunias. There was a cupid statue surrounded by little pots of lobelia, and about ten of those fake pottery pots that look real were scattered artfully about. From one pot sprouted a trellis covered with a coral wild rose. Tall spikes of veronica were next to the rose, and there was a huge pot of dark red sunflowers the color of good burgundy. Verbena was tucked in between, filling the gaps between the large pots.
    Jane gaped at the transformation. “You—you! You don’t even know what most of this is. How are you going to take care of this?“
    “Easy. I just water for a couple days and when the garden tour is over, these nice boys come back and take it all away.“
    “You RENTED a garden?“
    “Why not? It wasn’t all that expensive. And it was easy. One plant catalog and one phone call. “ Jane glared at her friend. “I was just going to send Mike out with the pooper-scooper and a lawn mower the night before, and keep the cats inside so they didn’t leave mangled chipmunks on the patio. I even considered getting a tablecloth for the patio table and a little arrangement of flowers from the grocery store. And you go and re-create the Biltmore gardens for yourself. I call that cheating. I really do.”
    Shelley brushed this insult off. “As I say, anyone could have thought of it.”
    Jane made a raspberry noise.
    “Mrs. Nowack,“ one of the workers asked, “do you want your shrubs trimmed? ”
    Shelley made a flighty gesture and said, “Yes. Soldier on, my good man.”
    Jane clumped home and took another critical look at her yard, noting the bug-chewed white petunias in the south corner, the straggling butterfly bush that had never bloomed, the stingy little marigolds. Then she went inside and called the nursery where Mike worked. Maybe since she was the mother of an employee, they’d give her a discount.
    She was hardly off the phone when, a moment later, the doorbell rang. It was Arnold Waring holding a square pan with foil over it.
    “Come in... Arnie,“ Jane said, remembering that he’d asked the class to call him that.
    “Ms. Appledorn was telling me today about the awful food