by Joyce Lavene
Peggy washed her hands in the restroom and gazed at her cheek. It was looking better today, not as red. It really wasn’t that bad—definitely not as bad as everyone’s reaction to it. She knew her mother hadn’t had the last word on it yet.
Sam wasn’t in the parking lot when she went outside. Instead, his younger sister, Hunter, was listening to music as she sat in her blue Camaro. She turned her head and grinned at Peggy when she opened the door.
“Hi there. I had some free time this morning so my brother talked me into picking you up to go look for some files.” Hunter was a statuesque blond with her brother’s blue eyes and a flawless complexion.
“I’m glad you could come.” Peggy got in and fastened her seatbelt. “I haven’t seen you for a while. How’s the new job?”
“Great! I have money! It’s really nice to have money. I got this car and a new apartment. I have a whole closet full of new shoes and clothes. I even have a new credit card. I love having money again!”
“It sounds like it.” Peggy laughed.
“I don’t have to ask how you’re doing. Sam brought me up to speed. I’m glad too, because otherwise I might have thought Steve took a swing at you.” She nodded at the cut on Peggy’s cheek.
“It would be more likely that I would take a swing at him,” Peggy said. “You know Steve—he’s as calm as buttermilk. That’s why we’re so good together. Having a temper myself, I wouldn’t do well spending my life with someone else who had a temper.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Hunter grinned. “That’s the only thing I’m missing in my wonderful new life—a man. I suppose I shouldn’t be greedy and expect it all at one time, right?”
“I think you have a right to be happy. You’ve worked hard for this job. I can’t believe that love isn’t somewhere in your future too.”
“Thanks, Peggy.” Hunter squealed out of the parking lot. “Sam put the GPS coordinates into the car for this storage place we’re going. What are we looking for? Treasure, I hope, and not a dead body.”
“Probably neither one.” Peggy grabbed the door handle as Hunter made a sharp turn and revved the Camaro’s new engine as she darted in and out of traffic. “I already found the dead body. This is looking for information about what killed him.”
“That doesn’t sound very exciting.” Hunter glanced at her and sailed through a red light. “I really liked the times we’ve worked together. But I remember them being more on edge, you know?”
Peggy saw the blue and white lights coming up fast behind them. There was a short burst from the police siren.
Hunter glanced into the rearview mirror. “Uh-oh. Don’t worry. Once they see that I’m a lawyer, they leave me alone.” She pulled the car to the side of the busy road and stopped. “They don’t want to irritate someone they might need later.”
“Do you need your registration?” Peggy asked.
“It won’t matter.” Hunter grinned and then put a finger to her mouth for quiet as the officer approached her window.
“License and registration, please.”
Peggy recognized him. “Hello, Officer Blandiss—Luke! We met yesterday.”
Luke Blandiss leaned into the car a few inches and smiled at her. “Dr. Lee. Good to see you. I hope you aren’t being kidnapped.”
“Oh no. My friend, Hunter, is taking me to an appointment. How are you this morning?”
“I’m great, thanks.”
Hunter handed him her business card from the prestigious law firm where she worked. “This should take care of it, Officer.”
He looked at the business card and handed it back to her. “I really need your driver’s license, Ms. Ollson, and your registration. Do you know why I stopped you?”
“Because you didn’t have anything else to do?” Hunter joked.
Luke looked a little put out. “No, ma’am. You were speeding, driving erratically, and failed to stop for a red light.”
“I am an officer of the court, sir. That allows me some leeway in these matters.”
“Maybe I should get the registration out now,” Peggy suggested.
“That isn’t necessary,” Hunter said.
“I’m afraid it is, ma’am,” Luke added.
“Fine.” Hunter huffed angrily as she dug her driver’s license out of her bag. “You might be sorry you did this.”
He looked at her license, and Peggy handed him the registration that had been in the glove box. “You’re only making it worse, ma’am. You were driving recklessly. That could mean trouble for anyone in your path.”
Hunter looked like she was ready to pop. “I think we’ve established who might be in trouble.” She snatched her license back from him. “Can I go now?”
He smiled at her in a less than threatening manner. “Not yet. I have to check your information. Be right back.”
As he left, Hunter made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. “Am I wrong?” she whispered. “Was he checking me out?”
Peggy laughed. “He’s very nice.”
Hunter pulled down the visor mirror to stare at herself. “And really cute. Did he mention if he was single?”
“No. We didn’t have that kind of conversation. But you never know.”
Luke came back a few minutes later—after Hunter had refreshed her lipstick and pulled at her shirt to show more cleavage. “I’m going to let you go with a warning this time, Ms. Ollson.”
Hunter smiled prettily. “Thank you so much. And please, call me Hunter. You never know. We might work together some time. You’re a police officer, and I’m a lawyer.”
“But you don’t work for the DA’s office,” he said. “Anyway, I’m giving you a warning, instead of a citation, because you have a safe driving record. Let’s keep it that way, hmm?”
“I’ll be very careful, Officer.” Hunter leaned toward him. “Do police officers ever have drinks with lawyers who aren’t in the DA’s office?”
“I guess that would all depend on the police officer, and the lawyer.”
“What about you and me?” Hunter threw herself right into it.
Luke glanced at the street behind him and grinned at her. “Sure. That could happen. I can’t make a date with you because I’m on duty, and I did stop you for a violation. But sometimes I hang out with some friends downtown at Dem Bones. You know it?”
“I sure do. I’ll see if I can swing by.” Hunter winked at him.
“Okay. Drive safely, Hunter. You might not be so lucky next time.” He saluted her and walked back to his car.
Hunter squealed as she pulled out into traffic. “Please tell me he’s single!”
“Would you like me to call Paul and ask him?”
“No! That would be going too far.” Hunter glanced into the rearview mirror. “He is such a babe! I hope he’s single.”
“I hope so too.” Peggy hid her smile as she glanced out the window.
They finally reached the storage facility. Arnie was leaning against his car, waiting for them. He waved when he saw Peggy.
“I was wondering if you were coming,” he said. “I thought you might have changed your mind.”
“Not at all. Do you have the code to get in?”
“Why don’t you just hop in my car, and I can give you a lift back when we’re done,” he suggested.
Hunter frowned. “I have strict orders not to leave you, Peggy. Sam made me promise to stay until you were done. We’ll follow him in.”
Peggy relayed the message. Arnie shrugged and got back into his car. They followed him through the open gate, after he’d punched in the code. Peggy showed Hunter where to park. Arnie parked beside them.
They followed the twists and turns between the buildings until they reached Unit 34. Arnie took out a small key on an orange ring. He glanced at Peggy and then opened the door.
“Well!” Peggy stared in surprise at the open, empty space.
Poinsettia
The Christmas flower. Poinsettias were known as Cuetlaxochitl in Mexico. A sap was used to c
ontrol fevers, and the bracts (modified leaves) were used to make a reddish dye. Poinsettias don’t actually flower, as is commonly thought. The bracts turn red and appear to be flowers amidst the green leaves.
Chapter Fifteen
Arnie drove to the office to demand to know what had happened to the contents of the unit. Hunter and Peggy walked into the small storage building.
“What was supposed to be in here?” Hunter kicked aside a few shreds of paper.
“Files and other things. I’m sure Sam told you that Harry Fletcher supposedly had files he kept on his wife’s death.” Peggy picked up an old bottle cap from the concrete floor. “He said he had files about John’s death too.”
Hunter grabbed Peggy’s hand. “Your first husband, John? Sam didn’t tell me that. Why would this man have files about John?”
“It’s a long story. It doesn’t seem to matter much right now since everything is gone.”
Arnie returned riding in a golf cart with the manager. He used his inhaler as he got out after the vehicle had stopped.
“You!” The angry manager pointed at Peggy. “She’s the one who tried to break in here. She probably took your stuff.”
“I didn’t take anything,” she denied. Not that she wouldn’t have, if she’d had the chance. “Did anyone else have a key to this unit?”
“Of course not,” the manager denied. “I gave the only key to Mr. Houck here. I don’t know what happened.”
“Don’t you have a key?” Hunter asked him. “You people always keep keys.”
“Sure, I have a key.” The manager glared at them. “Are you saying you think I took the stuff out of here?”
Peggy stopped the angry cascade of words before it could start. “We’re not saying anything. We just want to know what happened to everything that was in here.”
“Or I want my money back,” Arnie said.
“We have video surveillance.” The manager tried to pacify him. “Top notch too. We could take a look at it, and maybe you’d recognize the thief. They say thieves travel in packs.”
Peggy knew that dig was for her. She ignored it, and they all got on the golf cart to ride back to the office. She, Hunter, and Arnie sat in the waiting room while the manager retrieved the video.
He returned in a few minutes, his face pink with embarrassment. “I’m real sorry, but it looks like that camera wasn’t working last night. All I’ve got is fuzz. We can call the police. Maybe they can get fingerprints or something. I swear this kind of thing doesn’t happen often here. Did you get the renter’s insurance?”
Arnie didn’t get the insurance—not that any amount of money would have brought back the information they were looking for. The manager apologized a few more times and took Peggy, Hunter, and Arnie back to Unit 34.
“So much for that.” Hunter adjusted the strap on her handbag. “What do you want to do now, Peggy?”
“There isn’t anything to do about Harry’s files. Maybe the man who attacked me in the hospital parking lot got them. Maybe there really was something in there that could prove Ann was murdered. I guess we’ll never know.”
Hunter put her hand on Peggy’s shoulder. “There must be some other way to get that information.”
Peggy shook her head. “Not the information about John, but we may have another way to get the information about Ann.” She fished around in her bag until she found the permission form. “If you’ll sign this, Arnie, we can do the work that needs to be done.”
He glanced at the paper. “You want to dig up my sister? That’s crazy.”
“It may be the only way to prove what happened.” Peggy watched him look at it again.
“This seems wrong to me.” He balled up the paper and gave it back to her. “I don’t want anyone touching Ann again. I’m sorry.”
Peggy understood how he felt, but she knew Dorothy would simply get a court order to do what needed to be done. “I’m sorry, Arnie. But one way or another, the medical examiner is going to exhume her.”
He took a puff from his inhaler, opened the car door, and got inside. “It’s a bad world when you can’t even protect your sister after she’s been laid to rest. I’m sorry I talked to you at all, Peggy. I’m going home.”
As the white Cadillac slid by them, Hunter let out a gasp. “Some people don’t do well in this heat. Maybe he’s one of them.”
“I don’t know how I’d feel if they wanted to exhume John’s body,” Peggy said. “It’s such a terrible invasion of privacy. John and Ann have already been so violated.”
“Still.” Hunter opened the doors to her car. “It makes him seem a little suspicious, doesn’t it? If I thought Sam had been murdered, and couldn’t prove it, I’d let them dig him up. I think you would too.”
* * *
Peggy had Hunter take her to police headquarters in downtown Charlotte. She hoped they were done with her ca, and that Al had a few more answers for her.
Hunter made her promise to mention her to Luke if she saw him. Peggy was happy for her. She seemed so excited about meeting him.
It was better going in the front door of the station than the side door where they took prisoners. Peggy spoke with the sergeant at the desk who’d known John and waited while they sent someone to find Al.
A huge poinsettia on the sergeant’s desk still had red bracts and huge green leaves. The branches of the plant were so heavy that they drooped into a weeping shape. It was attractive, in an odd way, but Peggy knew the plant couldn’t live like that. It needed to be repotted and possibly cut back a little.
“That might be the biggest poinsettia I’ve ever seen outside a hothouse,” she remarked.
“You like it?” he grunted. “It’s yours. I didn’t even know what the hell it was. Someone stuck it over here at Christmas, and it kept growing.”
“Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t want him to put the poor thing into the trash because she’d noticed it.
“Let me get you a sack for that,” he offered, getting up from his chair.
Al showed up as the sergeant presented Peggy with the heavy poinsettia. “What’s all that about?”
“No one wanted this poor plant, even though it’s had phenomenal growth for a tropical, especially in this office.”
He laughed. “Are you saying this is a bad environment for plants?”
She directed his gaze to a dead fern that was hanging by the door. “I’d say that.”
“Come on back to my office, and let’s talk.” He held the door for her as she struggled with the heavy canvas bag holding the plant.
Peggy put the bag on the floor near her feet as she sat down in Al’s office. Paper, files, and empty food containers were heaped on his desk. She thought he could do with a good clean.
“From what I can tell, this Houck character isn’t into much.” He handed her Arnie’s file. “He’s got a few speeding tickets and a misdemeanor for not paying a court fee—but that was a few years ago. He’s clean.”
“What about Harry? Anything new?”
“There was no sign of an empty, or full, scotch bottle. I don’t know what’s up with that yet. He’s got a file three inches thick for everything from driving without a license, to breaking and entering charges. He served some time when he was younger, but he’s been off our radar for a few years. I don’t have a clue yet why anyone would want to kill him.”
Peggy explained about the puncture wound and poison Dorothy had found in Harry’s body. “You’d better find Ann Fletcher’s file too. She’s going to be exhumed as part of this.”
“Really?” He shivered. “I hate when they do that. Is she so sure Ann Fletcher was murdered too?”
“I’m probably to blame for that—though I don’t like exhuming the body any more than you do. The same poison that killed Harry was in her body when they autopsied her at the hospital. No one took it any further, but it’s there. How can we look the other way?”
“I suppose not. I’ll pull what I can find on Fletcher’s wife.”
He scribbled her name on a piece of paper. “I don’t think it’s much since there wasn’t an official investigation.”
“I should tell you that Harry’s papers were stolen too.”
“You mean the ones about John?”
“I mean everything he had in the storage unit. Harry had been saving information he could find about his wife’s death too.”
“You think this Arnie Houck took them?” He sat back in his chair, hands folded across his stomach.
“Why would he? He already had them. We went there this morning, and everything was gone. The manager said the cameras at that side weren’t working so we don’t have any idea what happened.”
“That’s a nice coincidence,” he muttered. “Your car isn’t quite ready to go. You could hang around a while until it is. Feel like taking a look at some pictures to see if you recognize the man who assaulted you yesterday? Maybe this man is already in the system. I don’t know about you, but it would make me feel better if we knew who it was.”
“Sure. Dorothy is probably working on that court order. I can look at pictures. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Al heaved his large frame out of the chair and got her settled behind his computer. He found the spot where the digitized pictures of criminals were kept. “Go to it. I’ll check on your car.”
Peggy had to sit on the very edge of Al’s big, leather chair to keep it from rocking back. It nearly swallowed her in its buttery, soft folds. She put one hand on the mouse to scroll through the photos. These were not only local criminals, but also national felons.
It was amazing, after a short time, how much all of them looked the same. She blinked her eyes, and pushed to focus, but it was difficult. Page after page flew by with no sign of the man whose face was etched in her memory.
“Any luck?” Al came back with a cup of coffee for her.
“He might be in here, and I might not recognize him.”
“I know what you mean. There are a lot of faces in there. Try to close your eyes for a minute, and visualize him when he was closest to you. Remember, his hair will probably be different. He might be younger. Just keep looking.”
