Berns and I needed to head out from Paynesville’s nicest hotel, the Relax Inn, to run errands at 10:30 at night was more difficult than getting her to leave her house. Since she’d bought into my argument that her home wasn’t safe, she didn’t want to let me out of her sight. Fortunately, she was too polite to argue for long. After extracting a promise from her that she’d deadbolt lock and chain lock the door and peer through the spy hole before letting anyone in, Mrs. Berns and I left.“Who else knew about the orange begonias?” I asked.“Those three women at the funeral, any random people they told over the years, Natalie, and you and me.”I pulled onto Highway 23 going west. “Who knew that we knew about the flowers?”“Those three women.”“And?”Mrs. Berns fiddled with the radio. “I didn’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re implying.”I shook my head. “You forgot one. Lynne Bankowski. She was standing so close when we heard the story that she was almost riding my shoulders.”“Forgot about her.
