Mulch ado about nothing

have overpowered two larger people?
    Come to think about it, what did Julie Jackson and Stewart Eastman have in common? They were both in the plant business in a similar way. They both had local connections, though Eastman spent most of his time elsewhere. They were highly educated and apparently were respected in their fields of endeavor. And Julie Jackson had agreed to lecture, and Stewart Eastman had taken over the class for her.
    Was someone suspicious of their relationship, or jealous? Could they have actually conspired against someone? Or did somebody mistakenly assume they had? Jane asked herself, but came up blank. Nobody but Miss Winstead and Charles Jones took gardening seriously. But they weren’t entirely obsessed with it. Miss Winstead still volunteered at the library and read the papers and went to lunch with new acquaintances like her and Shelley. Charles had a job that had to do with computers, if Jane was remembering correctly.
    Even Ursula had interests that went far beyond mere plants and flowers. Way beyond. Her little old ladies she periodically took care of. Her pets. Feeding birds. Reading every conspiracy book ever published.
    And Arnie Waring wasn’t the least interested in gardening. He didn’t even know the basics. He was concerned only with maintaining his lost wife’s life as if she were going to come back someday and chide him for forgetting her. He had only an obligation to plants, not a love of horticulture. And he apparently kept himself busy with a few other things. Cooking. Feeding what he assumed was an invalid. Presumably, working with his computer and maybe those papers on his desk had to do with some special interest he pursued.
    Who did that leave? Only Stefan. He was connected to Julie by having had a few impersonal dates with her. If he was telling the truth. And maybe he was. Mel was half-convinced that Ste- fan was open with them when questioned and even stupidly provided another motive for himself. He’d been the very picture of helpful innocence when Mel came to fetch him to the police station. As if he had nothing whatsoever to hide. Maybe Shelley was right that he was a fabulous actor, but Jane doubted it. He’d been clearly intimidated by Dr. Eastman on the first day of class. He hadn’t been able to hide his feelings that day.
    Mike and Scott finally abandoned the television and came out with the lawn mower and weed whacker and started making a lot of noise and a great show of being good kids working on the yard.
    Jane stayed where she was, still brooding over the attack and the murder. Who was left to consider? No one.
    Except Geneva Jackson and her husband.
    They not only knew Julie well, but were related. And Jane had the impression that Geneva was well acquainted with Dr. Eastman as well.

Twenty-five

    Shelley’s daughter, Denise, Katie, and Katie’s best friend, Jenny, produced a fine dinner that evening. They made little individual omelettes that were really good. Jane chose the one with chives and sour cream. Shelley went for the crumbled bacon and chopped tomatoes. As per the cooking teacher’s suggestion, they served a mixed-fruit dessert that was the perfect finish. Except for the tiny marshmallows they decided to add on their own. They were a bit slimy by the time the fruit was served.
    Mike and his friend Scott had worked up considerable appetites working on the yard and consumed vast quantities of dinner.
    “Don’t supervise the cleaning up this time,“ Jane warned Shelley. “See if they remember to get to it on their own.”
    The two women were sitting in Jane’s bedroom, feeling bloated and satisfied. Shelley was perched on the corner of Jane’s bed. Jane was at the head of the bed with her bad foot propped up on a pillow. It had been a bit more painful this evening and she thought it needed a little pampering. They were watching a garden show.
    “This guy is claiming he takes care of this ten-acre garden entirely on his own,“ Shelley said. “I don’t believe him.“
    “I’ve been thinking over the members of the class,“ Jane said, not caring much whether the gardener on the show did his own work. It was the sort of thing only Shelley could get cranky about.
    “And the murder?“ Shelley asked.
    “I sat outside while you were gone and ran down the list of suspects from the class. I could think of feeble motives for a few of them, none of which are very convincing. Then I got to Geneva and her husband. We’ve both forgotten