Trouble In Bloom by Heather Webber Page B

said, "Exactly."

Nine

    "Where are we? Oz?" Roxie asked.
    I'd taken 63 east off 75 north. After the correctional facility, farmland bordered the road on both sides. Looked like most everything had been harvested already, the soil freshly turned, dark and rich.
    "Don't get up here much, huh?"
    She shook her head.
    "You're missing out."
    "On what? Life?" she muttered.
    I smiled. If she grew up in the city, then this would seem like another world to her. Rolling meadows, dairy farms, houses set miles apart.
    If we continued straight, we'd hit civilization again in downtown Lebanon, famous for its old-fashioned charm, but I turned left onto a gravel driveway and drove it for a good mile.
    Ash trees in golden glory lined the main drive, and Lowther House finally came into view.
    "Wow," Roxie said.
    I agreed.
    It was stunning. A two story Georgian-style colonial mansion complete with pillars out front, Lowther House was a residential facility for the retired set. Almost innlike, it offered its residents amenities other facilities could only dream of. A concierge, for one. In-house doctors. Private chefs. It was the best of the best, as the quarter-million per year price tag suggested.
    From the front the house didn't seem so elaborate, but I knew from an earlier tour that four additions had been added to the main house. The lower level's fl oor plan looked like the Pentagon's, complete with a courtyard in the center of it all.
    We parked near the elaborate fountain, a bronze fl eur de lis, and passed under beautiful stone columns as we walked up the front steps of the main entrance. I'd called ahead to inform Pippi about the cameras, and she'd been thrilled. She was a closet reality TV junkie and a huge fan of Hitched or Ditched .
    Though I knew the code for the front door, I spoke into an intercom and was buzzed in.
    Pippi met us in the grand foyer. Such a quaint term, foyer. This foyer was two stories of square white panels. Beautiful impressionist artwork splashed the walls with color, breaking the monotony of the white. A wide walnut staircase rose up and branched left and right, curving up to the second floor. It was nothing short of spectacular and looked like something out of Gone with the Wind .
    I half expected to see Scarlet come running down, dressed in velvet drapes. The evil part of me had always wanted to see her fall down those stairs. I never could stand that Scarlet O'Hara.
    Pippi kissed my cheeks. A little thing, she stood about five feet tall. She had a slender build, most of her weight probably coming from her hair, which was gray and pulled into a full bun atop her head.
    She looked like a doppelganger for the grandma from the Tweety Bird cartoons, only a tad bit younger.
    Pippi pinched Nels's cheeks, told Roxie she loved her glasses. "Please, please tell me Thad Cochran is just as adorable in real life as he is on TV." Her voice was whiskey rough with a hint of southern charm.
    "You sound like my mother," I said.
    Pippi looped her arm through mine. "Obviously a woman of impeccable taste."
    Though Pippi looked grandmotherly, she reeked of cigarette smoke. I also spotted a tiny heart tattoo at the nape of her neck, peeking out from under a lace collar.
    I couldn't help but like her.
    "So, Thad?" she asked.
    "He's cute."
    "And married," Roxie piped in.
    Like that mattered, I thought. I wondered if Sherry knew about his behind-the-scenes action with Genevieve Hidalgo Sala. Or if Willie knew, for that matter. Could that have been what propelled Willie and Sherry into each other's arms?
    "I'm so sorry to hear about your resident who passed on," I said.
    "Yes, me too. Poor Gaye Goldwin passed away after a long battle with colon cancer. Awful, awful disease."
    "I'm sorry," I said again, though I'd never met Mrs. Goldwin.
    "The doctors here at Lowther House made her last days as comfortable as possible. She was at peace. But enough of the drear and gloom. I'm very excited for the makeover. This place needs a little