by Joyce Lavene
She smiled at him. “And you’re happy with his work?”
“Fat chance,” Selena muttered under her breath.
“I’m sure he’ll be great.” Sam darted an evil look in Selena’s direction. “Anyway, Peggy, if you need any help, let me know.”
“Hey!” Emil yelled from the front of the shop. “Anybody here looking for food and drink?”
“At last!” Walter pushed to his feet. “I thought I might die of thirst.”
Sam helped Peggy to her feet, nodding at Walter’s retreating back. “Kind of an odd choice of companion to have along on a murder investigation, isn’t he?”
“I didn’t realize it was going to be an active investigation. Otherwise, I’m sure I would’ve called you.”
“Aw, thanks. Nothing I enjoy better than a good murder investigation.” He laughed. “Where’s Steve? It seems like this would be right up his alley.”
“He has his own work—they’re looking for some burglary suspects. One dead man isn’t very interesting to the FBI.”
They walked through the shop together, following Walter and Selena. Emil and Sofia had come from the coffee shop with their order. They were sorting through the cups, and sandwiches in wrappers, at the counter.
“Oh! There she is!” Sofia Balducci raised her hands and eyes toward heaven. “Thank God you’re safe! What were you doing out there at that terrible place?”
Peggy thanked her for the cup of hot peach tea. “Terrible place? Are you talking about the motel? Was it on TV?”
“Was it on TV?” Sofia spat on the floor. “Aren’t there always vultures where the dead are?”
“Eww,” Selena whispered, close to Peggy. “I’m not cleaning that up.”
“We saw you on the TV just a few minutes ago,” Emil said. “You were walking out of that place with that big cop friend of yours. You know—he’s been here before.”
“You mean Al.” She took a small bag of almond cookies from Sofia. Peggy always marveled at how the woman could work with such huge rings on her fingers.
“Whoever he is.” Emil’s thick, dark mustache drooped on the right side when he wasn’t smiling, which wasn’t very often. Normally he was happy with his life. He prided himself on being a ladies’ man with his broad Italian features, craggy brows, and shadowed eyes.
“Al isn’t only a police detective,” Peggy reminded him. “I’ve known him for many years. He’s my friend.”
Sofia grabbed the large cross that was around her neck, and held it in front of her. Her long, black hair fell on either shoulder. “God save us from such friends. Did he arrest you? Were you questioned? I hope there was no sexual perversion involved.”
Walter, who wasn’t used to the Balduccis, almost choked on his tea.
“There was nothing sexual,” Peggy corrected her, trying not to laugh. “And he didn’t arrest me. I’m helping him with a murder.”
Sofia put her arms around Peggy and pressed Peggy’s face to her ample bosom. “How many times do you have to do these things before your man finds a real job and takes you away from all of this?”
Peggy knew Sofia and Emil’s concern was real, if misplaced. They meant well. They didn’t understand that Steve worked for the FBI, and that Peggy wanted to run The Potting Shed. They had some odd notion that Steve was some kind of con artist.
“This is the best egg croissant I’ve ever had,” Sam intervened. “What’s the secret?”
Emil stared at him. “You take the eggs, and you put them on the bread. No secret.”
Selena took up Sam’s cause. “And the coffee. What can you say about the coffee except yum? How do you do it?”
Sofia and Emil exchanged looks of exasperation.
“Sometimes, it seems you are all crazy.” Sofia twirled her finger around her ear so there could be no question of her meaning.
“We have to get back now,” Emil said. “You need our help, Peggy, you know where we are.”
The couple left The Potting Shed with their heads shaking, bodies leaning together as they tried to make sense of it all.
After they were gone, Sam and Selena burst out laughing.
Peggy shook her head. “You shouldn’t make fun of them. They don’t understand our culture.”
“They’ve been living here since before I was born,” Selena whispered as though the couple was still within earshot. “If they don’t get it by now, they never will.”
“She’s right for once,” Sam agreed. “It’s not the culture, Peggy. The two of them are wacky.”
Walter sighed. “I’m afraid I have to agree with these two. I don’t know how you even became friends with them.”
“They’re very good people,” Peggy defended her friends. “They’d do anything for me.”
“They make good coffee and sandwiches.” Selena smiled. “I guess that’s something.”
Sam wolfed down his food and coffee. “That’s better. Thanks, Peggy. I’m gonna run out to the site to see how Tucker’s doing.”
“Here we go.” Selena finished her coffee. “We’ll be lucky if we still have Tucker working for us by the end of the day.”
“Why are you so obnoxious?” Sam asked her.
“Because it’s fun.” Selena grinned up into his handsome face.
“Fun?” He grabbed her and threw her across his shoulder. “Let’s see how fun a roll in the manure will be.”
Selena obliged by screaming and kicking at him. Eventually, they were barely audible in the back of the shop.
“How do you get anything done around here?” Walter carefully placed his empty cup and sandwich wrapper in the trash. “I couldn’t work with that type of shenanigans going on all the time.”
Peggy grabbed a paper towel and sprayed it with Lysol before she cleaned up the spot where Sofia had spit on the wood floor. “They’re good workers. They’re a little high-spirited, but I love them both.”
“You must to put up with them.” He rubbed his hands together. “Now, on to the bulbs.”
Because the bulbs were for fall planting, there was a huge variety. There were Stargazer lilies and Muscadet, which was a fun lily with white blossoms and pink spots. There was also the Amaryllis Bella Donna which could be planted outdoors even during the summer. The new windflowers, also known as anemones, would be popular. Many gardeners still looked at them as being a protection against evil.
“What is this one?” Walter asked. “It’s a little unique.”
“They call it the voodoo lily. Arum Cornutum. It’s lovely. A real showpiece.”
“Ah! The hardy cyclamen. These are wonderful in pots,” Walter raved.
“I like these Peruvian daffodils too.” Peggy picked up some of the bulbs. “They call them spider flowers because of their unique petals. They smell good too.”
They finally reached the burlap bags filled with crocus bulbs.
“Which of the new ones do you like?” Walter glanced at Peggy.
“I like the Prins Claus variety. The petals are very white with a deep purple mark on the outsides that looks like someone painted it on them. I also like the Tuscan crocus. It’s native to Northern Italy. I got a large amount of them for Sofia and Emil.”
“I believe I’d rather avoid something you thought those two would enjoy.”
She smiled. “Okay. What about the Cream Beauty? They’re one of the first ones up. They’re very delicate, maybe like you, Walter.”
At first it seemed he might take offense at that, but he finally smiled and took two of the bulbs. “Yes. I suppose I do have delicate sensibilities. Nothing wrong with that. We could all use a little delicacy in our lives.”
“Let me get you a bag for those.”
Walter left with ten crocus bulbs—and two spider flowers. He thanked Peggy for the adventure, and went out to his Bentley.
Peggy spent some time tidying the shop. It was amazing how things managed to move from one place to another each day. She dusted and hung up the new fall bulbs promotion sign. Traffic was light from the cou
rtyard since it was still before lunch. She knew customers who received the shop’s newsletter each month would be in to check out the bulbs that day.
She’d been lucky with The Potting Shed. Charlotteans were avid gardeners all year. Traffic was fairly steady in the cold winter or the hot summer.
When everything was done, she sat by the pond where young cattails were growing. Ponds, and everything that went with them, were big business for the shop. There were large ponds for people with land to put them on and small ponds for balconies and indoor areas. Water plants had become a good sales item for them.
“Sam’s almost finished.” Selena walked up from the back. “He’s lucky I don’t take karate lessons or something.”
“You pick on him too much.” Peggy got to her feet. “One of these days, he’s really going to throw you in some manure.”
Selena laughed. “He better be able to take the consequences if he does.”
Sam ignored her jibe as he joined them. “Where are we off to today?”
Magnolia
There are about 80 different species of magnolia that are native to the eastern U.S. and Southeast Asia. Hundreds of hybrids have been created by breeders because they are easy to grow and care for. Most have large, showy flowers and attractive, shiny leaves. Their beautiful flowers are pollinated by beetles, not bees.
Chapter Seven
“How come I never get to go on any of your adventures?” Selena pouted. “You take Sam with you places. You even took Mr. Bellows. I suppose next you’ll take Sofia.”
“It’s because I count on you being here.” Peggy smiled. “I appreciate what you do for me.”
“Yeah. Thanks. But next time there’s an adventure, I want to go.”
“Okay. But you might not like it.”
“Then I won’t go again.” Selena stuck her tongue out at Sam. “Try to keep her out of jail, huh? I have tests to study for later.”
“You got it,” Sam said.
They left for the mini-storage, after Peggy advised Selena about a few things that needed to be done in the shop.
Peggy explained to Sam about what had happened to Harry, and why it was crucial that they go to the auction at the mini-storage that morning.
He was skeptical. “How do you find these people?”
“It was Nightflyer.”
“Of course it was.” Sam nodded. “What did Steve have to say about it?”
“Not much.” She left out the part about almost being arrested. She didn’t want Sam to have misgivings about going with her.
He laughed as he stopped at a traffic light. “Only if you didn’t tell him about Nightflyer. Does Steve know you’re going to the auction?”
“Yes. He knows I need those files. I wish there’d been time for Harry and me to work together, bless his soul.” Peggy shook her head. “He didn’t deserve to die that way. I hope to get to the ME’s office later today, and that they’ll let me work on the case.”
“If it’s poison, won’t they give you a call? You’re their resident poison specialist.”
“I’d like to think so, but you never know. They could bring in the state forensic botanist. I told Al what I thought. I’m sure he’ll give that message to Dorothy. We’ll see.”
Traffic got heavier as they got closer to the storage facility. Peggy wondered where all the cars were going. It wasn’t lunchtime yet.
She got her answer as they came to a spot in the road where one lane was blocked. City crews were cutting down a huge, old magnolia tree. The base of it was at least five feet across. There were hundreds of branches that sported the distinctive waxy green leaves and beautiful white flowers.
“What a shame.” She mourned the old tree.
“It was getting too big to be at the edge of the street,” Sam observed. “It was probably starting to block drivers from seeing ahead.”
“I blame the people for that. They should have kept it trimmed before it came to this. At the rate they’re cutting trees in Charlotte, there won’t be any big ones left in a few years. We’ll look a little strange being ‘The City of Trees’ without any trees.”
“True.” Sam nodded thoughtfully, his blue gaze intense. “You know, I’ve been thinking we should consider adding tree work to our list of services. I’ve had people ask about it a few times.”
They passed the growing pile of branches that littered the street and sidewalk. Peggy guessed that the tree was probably older than the brick house built behind it. There were also some wonderful old oaks in the yard. She hoped they wouldn’t suffer the same fate.
“There’s a heavy outlay of capital to get started with tree work,” she said. “A lot of equipment.”
“Yeah. Just thinking out loud.” He smiled at her.
“That’s what makes you such a great partner! You’re always thinking ahead.”
“Thanks. You too. I don’t regret leaving school to work with you.”
“How about your parents? Are they coming around?” Sam’s mother and father had been very angry about him becoming a landscaper instead of a surgeon.
“They still aren’t happy about it, but we’re okay. It helps that Hunter stuck it out and became a lawyer. At least they can point to her with pride.”
Hunter was Sam’s only sister. She’d managed to find a legal firm that took her on so she didn’t have to forage for work. Peggy knew Sam was still smarting from his parents’ rejection of his new occupation. He didn’t like to talk about it.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“I guess it all depends which side you’re on.”
She decided to change the subject and asked him about getting rid of the English ivy on her roof.
“The best way is Roundup,” he joked. “But if you don’t want to kill off every other living thing in the area, have them use apple cider vinegar. It’ll take more than one application, but it will get the job done.”
“Thanks!” She texted Dalton as Sam told her. “I’m sure that will do it.”
“No problem. That’s my job.”
“There it is.” Peggy pointed to the large sign for the storage facility. “I hope the gate is open. I’d like to get my car out without a lot of fuss.”
“I can always create diversion, and you can sneak it out,” he offered.
“Thanks. Another great reason I love having you as my partner—you’re sneaky!”
But it was as she’d originally thought—the gate was open—welcoming bidders to the auction of several storage units. Sam parked the truck at the entrance, and they walked to the office.
A dozen or so people were lined up to bid on the contents of those units. Peggy signed in with her name, address, and phone number. She hoped the manager wouldn’t pay close attention to her. He was the same man who’d wanted to press charges against her. She stood on the other side of Sam, just in case.
He came up to them and shook Sam’s hand. “Welcome. We have six units up for bid today. No promises what’s inside them. It could be trash. It could be treasure.”
“Sounds like fun,” Sam said.
The manager grinned. “I should charge just for the fun of doing it. There have been many treasures found here in the past. Usually bidders pay a pittance compared to what they find inside.”
“Excellent.” Sam glanced at Peggy hugging his side, her nose buried in a sales flyer. “Thanks.”
After the manager had left them, Sam whispered to her, “Did you know you have to get the buy the whole unit?”
“No, but that’s okay. I brought my checkbook.”
“I’m glad I didn’t bring mine. I’m a sucker for this stuff.”
She moved with him as he started walking. “Do you want to tell me why you’re hiding behind me?” he asked.
“No. Not really.” She frowned, feeling she owed him the truth since he was there with her. “The manager and I had a little run-in last night when I was here with Harry. Nothing serious.”
Sam shrugged, turning so that Peggy was behind him agai
n as the manager walked by to welcome another bidder. “It’s your show. We’ll do it your way.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
Harry’s unit was second on the list of those being auctioned. The group walked with the manager to the first storage unit. The auctioneer said most of the items listed in the unit were furniture.
“What is my bid on this first unit?” the auctioneer asked. “Do I hear one hundred dollars?”
“I’ll bid fifty dollars,” a tall man in a red T-shirt said.
“Fifty dollars.” The auctioneer glanced at the manager. “Do I hear fifty-five dollars? Come on, folks. There could be some valuable furniture inside. Do I hear fifty-five dollars?”
The unit finally went for seventy-five dollars. When the door was opened, it was filled with old furniture. Peggy recognized many of the pieces as valuable antiques. They would probably sell for a lot more at an antique auction. “He got a good deal.”
“I’ll say!” Sam agreed. “See something you want?”
“No. We have more than enough old furniture.”
As the small group was leaving to go to the next unit, an older woman walked up and demanded that the proceedings cease. “This is my furniture.” Her voice trembled. “I have the money to pay the back rent now. You have no right to sell it.”
The manager shrugged. “I’m sorry. You had plenty of advance notice that this was going to happen. We’ve sold it all. You could probably buy it back from this gentleman.”
The woman had a look of horror on her face. “No! These things have been in my family for generations. They’re priceless. They can’t be gone.”
“I am within my legal rights to sell everything in this unit,” the manager said with a touch of disdain. “Check your contract.”
Peggy felt sorry for her. She couldn’t imagine if someone had put all of her things up for sale without her consent. Even if the woman knew it would happen, it rankled. It wasn’t a good practice, but what else could the storage facilities do with items that no one wanted? They probably couldn’t afford to keep storing them.
