Another vehicle was coming up the drive. This, too, was a closed white van, but was painted along the sides with a colorful garland of flowers. A willowy young man with shoulder-length blond hair, perfectly faded jeans, and a violently vivid Hawaiian shirt hopped out and strode toward Jane, his arms outstretched. "My darling Jane, I have finally arrived. Traffic was positively deadly, but I persevered for your sake." He folded her in a careful embrace.

Once Jane was released, she said, "Shelley, this is Larkspur. Larkspur, Shelley Nowack — my best friend who's helping me pull this wedding off."

“You've mentioned her. I'm charmed to meet you, Shelley. What wonderfully Pre-Raphaelite cheekbones you have, my dear.”

Shelley touched her face. "Oh. . have I really?"

“Divine. If I were a painter, I'd paint you," he proclaimed. "I must see the gardens first."

“I don't think there are any," Jane said, glancing around.

“The ghosts of gardens, I should have said," Larkspur explained. "I saw the tiniest glimpse of a bleeding heart right over there and where there's bleeding heart, there has been a garden. The old heirloom plants are so much better than some of the new varieties, don't you think? I wouldn't think anyone would mind if I just dug up a few little plants, would they?"

“I'm sure it would be fine," Jane said. "It's doomed to become a golf club this year anyway.”

He threw his hands in the air dramatically. "Horrors! Horrible old men in light blue polyester pants traipsing around acres of boring grass. Then I must rescue some of the abandoned darlings that have survived the neglect. It's a sacred duty. And maybe I'll find time to search for the secret treasure as well." He laughed merrily.

“Secret treasure?" Jane asked.

“You don't know the story?" he trilled. "Then I shall have to tell you all about it, but I must explore the gardens first and see what poor, neglected plants are here." He wandered off, making happy little exclamations to himself.