by Joyce Lavene
Peggy did as he asked. She scanned four more pages while she drank her coffee. She was about to scroll up again, when one of the faces caught her attention.
Is that him?
She squinted hard at the man’s face. His hair was different—shorter. His face was thinner too, but the eyes looked the same. Also the mouth. He’d had a scar right at the corner of his mouth when he’d attacked her. It wasn’t in this picture, but Peggy believed it could be him.
His name was Ray Quick. He’d been born in Florence, South Carolina, and had been in and out of trouble most of his life.
She looked closer at the image. The more she looked, the more sure she was that it was him. His description included his height and weight. Five foot nine, one hundred and sixty pounds.
Peggy closed her eyes and envisioned him during their scuffle in the parking lot. He was taller than her, but not as tall as Steve or Paul. The height worked, although she thought he might weigh less than what they had listed.
Al came back a few minutes later, and she showed him the photo. He nodded. “Yeah. Kind of a small-time punk who does jobs for other people. We’ll look him up and see if he’s in Charlotte. Good catch.”
She smiled. “I hope I’m not causing some poor man extra grief by picking his face out of the computer. I could be wrong.”
“Let’s run with this, and we’ll see. If we can find him, we’ll bring him in for a line-up. That way you’d see him in the flesh, and it would be what he looks like right now.”
“Thanks. I guess I should get back to the office. Is my car ready?”
“Yeah. It’s ready to go. I had it taken in front.” He handed her the keys. “Be careful, Peggy. I don’t like not knowing why you were attacked. He had to know you could go right back in and get another copy of the file he took. That means it was a warning. The next time could be worse.”
“I know,” she admitted, getting to her feet slowly. She was so stiff from the fall yesterday. It felt like every part of her was bruised. “He probably hoped I was too scared to go back and get another copy.”
Al smiled. “But he didn’t know how stubborn Peggy Lee is, did he? How are you feeling today, by the way?”
She eased herself forward a few steps. “I’m in good shape, as long as I don’t move.”
“I’ve had those days.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Al had a rookie take the poinsettia out to the car for her. She stopped in her tracks when she saw that her car wasn’t covered in red paint. Al had gotten it cleaned, and the inside was even spotless because of the crime scene work.
She got in the car, texted her thanks to Al, and put the passenger seatbelt around the plant. She was about to drive toward the ME’s office when she got a call from Dorothy. A judge had issued a court order for the exhumation at three p.m. Dorothy couldn’t be there and asked Peggy if she would mind taking her place.
“Of course,” Peggy said, though she would rather be anywhere than at the cemetery.
“Thanks. I’ll send you the name of the cemetery, and where you need to meet them when you get there. Talk to you later.”
Peggy started the car and drove to The Potting Shed. She might as well take advantage of her time away from the case to relax with her plants and customers. She could also take a peek at lecture for tomorrow at the university. She’d given the same lecture so many times that she tended to take it for granted. It couldn’t hurt to look it over.
“And you, my new friend, can be repotted so you can spend the rest of your life at the shop. People will fall in love with you when they see how magnificent you are.” She patted the poinsettia carefully.
Selena was surprised to see Peggy at The Potting Shed that morning. She was sorting through another shipment of bulbs, trying to organize them. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here.” Peggy put her bag away and put on her apron. “I thought I was here enough that you’d remember that part.”
“Ha-ha. You know what I mean. Usually when you’re hot on the trail of some bad guy, we get neglected. I’m used to it.”
Peggy hugged her. “Not right now. I have to leave to be at an exhumation at three, but I’m here until then.”
Selena frowned. “Exhumation? You mean you’re digging someone up?”
“I’m afraid so.” Peggy started sorting through the bulbs too. “There seems to be no other way to figure out what happened to this poor woman.”
“Wow. I didn’t know you did things like that. Can I come too?”
Chocolate Vines
These exotic plants grow leathery, green leaves. The pulp is edible and likened in taste to tapioca. The chocolate vine plant is visually stunning with its purple flowers and has a wonderful chocolate scent. Large seedpods ripen in mid to late fall. The vine climbs walls, fences, or anything upright.
Chapter Sixteen
Peggy felt blessed that she didn’t have to answer that question. Only Selena would want to go out to a cemetery and dig up a woman who’d been dead for twenty years. She talked with the customer who came in looking for something new for her garden and pretended that she hadn’t heard the question.
Mary Ann Polumbo was looking for an unusual vine that she could train to climb a new trellis on her gazebo. “I know there are plenty of tried and true plants I could use,” she explained. “I see those new exciting plants in the garden catalogues, and I just want one.”
“I understand. I feel the same way. And I might have something for you. Come back here with me.” Peggy led her to the back of the shop where new plants were kept. “We just got this in. They call it a chocolate vine. Smell it.”
“Wow! It smells just like chocolate,” Mary Ann raved. “What are these little pods on it?”
“Edible fruit.” Peggy pulled one off for her. “Have a taste.”
“Are you sure? I’ve been to your poison plant seminars. Is this safe?”
Peggy popped one into her own mouth. “Very safe. And very delicious.”
Mary Ann pulled off another pod and chewed it. “I love this! How many could I grow on my new gazebo?”
“I would think two or three. You don’t want to be overwhelmed by them. Aren’t they fantastic?”
“You always have what I’m looking for, Peggy. I’ll take three, if you have them. Can I plant them now?”
“Yes. But they may lose the flowers and pods. They’ll come back next year.”
“Wonderful. Thanks so much. What would I do without you?”
The three chocolate vines were actually for one of Sam’s projects. Peggy let Selena ring up Mary Ann’s order while she got on the Internet and ordered five more. It looked like chocolate vines might be popular.
Selena carefully wrapped the vines and helped Mary Ann take them out to her car.
Peggy started back sorting bulbs. This was the bad part about getting them wholesale. They came in one large box with stickers showing which was which. If she put them all out together, the customers got confused. It was worth the time and trouble to separate them.
Mr. Beazle came in with his usual sour expression. Peggy and Selena always joked that he reminded them of Ebenezer Scrooge. He always dressed in an old black suit and frequently complained. Usually he was looking for the cheapest sale plants.
Selena ran into the back of the shop before she had to wait on him.
Peggy smiled, as she always did, and went to ask him what she could do.
“There were three of the five tulip bulbs I bought from you last fall that did not bloom this spring.” He glared at her over his starched white collar. “What do you plan to do about it?”
“I plan to give you three new bulbs,” she replied, trying not to lose her patience with him. “Would you like more tulip bulbs?”
“That would be all right—but not red. I have far too many red tulips.”
“All right.” She grabbed a small brown bag and put three yellow tulip bulbs into it. “Is that all?”
“I might be intere
sted in a new rose bush for my formal garden area.”
“This isn’t really a good time to plant roses, Mr. Beazle. I can’t guarantee they’ll grow.”
“Inferior products, madam. You should be able to plant them at any time with success.”
“You’ve been a gardener for a long time,” she reminded him. “The dog days of summer aren’t a good time to plant many things.”
“Superstitious hogwash!”
“Have it your way.” She shrugged. “I’ll sell you a rose bush, but I won’t guarantee it.”
“Why would I purchase it from you then?” He grabbed his bag of tulip bulbs and left the store.
Peggy sighed as she sat in her rocker. She was glad all of her customers weren’t like him.
Selena glanced around before walking to the counter. “That is one mean, old dude. I wish he’d find another garden shop.”
“Thanks for running off and leaving me with him.”
“You could just ban him from The Potting Shed, and we wouldn’t have that problem.”
“We can’t always work with people we like.”
Selena snorted. “That’s the truth. Look at Sam.”
“I think you’re jealous of him.”
“Jealous? Why?”
“Because everyone loves him and asks for him.” Peggy got up to pull a dead catkin from the miniature cattail plant that grew in the pond. “It’s either that, or you’re in love with him.”
“Both of those ideas are stupid,” Selena argued, but her cheeks bloomed with red. “Sam is gay. He isn’t interested in me that way.”
Peggy shook her head. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t interested in him that way.”
“Trust me. I can go out with whoever I want, whenever I want. I don’t have to sit around sighing over Sam like those other women. They’re so pathetic.” Selena glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I’m going to take a break and get something at the Kozy Kettle. Want something?”
“No, thanks. Have fun.”
Did Selena have a crush on Sam? That could lead to all kinds of difficulties. She needed them to be able to work together, but she knew the heart wasn’t always predictable. It might be a good idea to talk to Sam. He was a few years older, and in most cases, very mature. She’d have to hope he could take what she had to say seriously, without making fun of Selena.
The door chimed, and Peggy looked up. It was Arnie again. He stepped inside and used his inhaler.
“I suppose you’re surprised to see me.” He smiled. “I’m surprised to be here.”
“Why are you here?”
“It’s about the idea of digging up my sister.” He took a seat in the chair by the door. “I’m sorry I was so upset about the idea earlier. I wasn’t expecting it. I’ve thought about it. If you think it’s important, I’ll sign that paper.”
Peggy felt bad that he’d come to tell her he’d reconsidered. She’d warned him that they would do it without his permission. Now she was embarrassed to tell him that it was already done.
“I’m sorry, Arnie. The medical examiner already got a court order. They’re exhuming Ann’s body this afternoon at three. When they think a murder might have been covered up, they move pretty quickly.”
“I suppose I should’ve known.” He got up from the chair. “Will you be there?”
“Yes.”
“I will be too. Thanks, Peggy.”
She watched him walk outside. At least no one had tried to tell her that John’s death was an accident. She knew from the beginning that he was murdered. Maybe she’d be smart to let it go at that. What difference did it make why he was killed? He was dead—that was all that really mattered. She didn’t want to see him exhumed too.
Her cell phone rang. It was Paul. “Hi, Mom. I need to talk to you. Do you have some free time?”
“I’m at The Potting Shed. Could you come here?”
After a short pause, he said, “I can’t. Not the house either. We need to meet somewhere that people wouldn’t expect you to be.”
Peggy’s cinnamon-colored brows knit together. “Where are you? What’s wrong? Who are you worried about seeing?”
“Steve. Maybe Al. Meet me at the Old Settler’s Cemetery. Can you get there by eleven?”
“Yes. But what’s going on, Paul? I don’t like the way you sound.”
“Just meet me there, Mom, please.”
Peggy put down her cell phone as the call ended. Something was wrong. She hadn’t heard Paul sound that way since he got in trouble at college for helping a friend pass an exam.
She looked at her watch. It was ten-fifteen. She could see Selena coming back to the shop with her hands full of goodies. Since she’d had a chance to take a break, maybe she wouldn’t feel so bad about Peggy leaving for a while.
Peggy was telling Selena that she had to leave before eleven, when a man pulling a small wagon with a huge watermelon in it came into the shop.
“Miss Peggy.” Dorian Hubbard pulled at his cap. “I thought you might be interested to see my prize-winning watermelon. I bought the seeds right here. Someone from the Observer is on his way to take pictures.”
Peggy marveled at the watermelon, rubbing her hands on the smooth round sides. “How much does it weigh?”
“Seventy-eight pounds.” Dorian was a long-time customer. “I thought you all could use a little extra publicity.”
“Thank you for thinking of us.” Peggy was always surprised at the kindness and thoughtfulness of her customers.
“I’ve got some mighty big squash this year too.” He sat down in the chair by the door, took off his hat, and swiped his hand across his sweaty brow. “Hot out there. Those squalls in the Atlantic don’t do much good for us up here.”
Selena stood close to Peggy. “You can’t go anywhere until the reporter comes. I’m not getting my picture taken with Godzilla the watermelon.”
“Don’t worry,” Peggy whispered back. “I’ll be late if I have to.”
They sat around talking about gardens and the many bumper crops they’d heard about that summer. Dorian said he’d gone to the county farmer’s market, and a man had offered him a hundred dollars for his watermelon.
“That got me thinking. If he was interested in it, maybe someone else would be too. I called the Charlotte Observer, and the young man I talked to was right excited by it.”
It was ten-thirty, but there was no sign of the reporter. Selena got Dorian a cup of cold water and started working on the bulbs again. Peggy talked with her guest and kept looking at her watch. She was worried, after talking to Paul. She wished he would’ve said a little more about what was wrong.
A young man in a blue T-shirt and jeans carrying a large camera finally came into the shop. He saw Dorian and the watermelon. “Hi. I’m Skip Taylor. I guess this is the big fella.”
Dorian pulled on his suspenders as he got to his feet. “That’s right. Never grew one like it before. Peggy sold me the seeds. This is her garden shop. Make sure you get the name right—The Potting Shed.”
Skip wrote the information in his notepad. He shook hands with Peggy. “I’m glad to meet you. Nice place.”
“Thank you. But really, Dorian is more responsible for the big watermelon because he’s such a good gardener. He takes good care of his garden.”
“So, we think the garden is more important than the seed?” Skip asked.
“Not as far as I’m concerned,” Dorian denied. “Look around you, young man, do you see any other garden shops in this area?”
Sam came in as Skip was trying to think of any other garden shops at all. Once Sam got the idea that The Potting Shed was getting free publicity—he took over the event—making sure the reporter knew they did landscaping too. He had Skip take pictures of all three of them with the big watermelon—setting it up so that the photo would pick up the contents of the shop behind them.
“He’s much better at this than I ever was,” Peggy confided to Dorian as Sam had Skip taking pictures all over the shop while he gav
e him information.
“But you’re a damn sight better looking.” Dorian winked at her. “You know, a few years back, I thought there might be something between you and me. We both love plants, and we lost our spouses. Then that good-looking fella came along and snatched you up. I should’ve done it quicker.”
Peggy hugged him. He’d been one of her first customers and had always been there to support her. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I’m flattered. We could’ve grown some big vegetables together.”
Dorian’s laugh was wheezy, reminding her of Arnie. She glanced at her watch. It was five minutes until eleven. Sam had this. She was going to meet Paul.
She said goodbye to Dorian and thanked him again for bringing the newspaper to her door. Selena waved to her as she was leaving.
Sofia was standing with her nose pushed against the plate glass at the front of the shop. “Is that a newspaper reporter? Emil saw him go in with a camera.”
“Yes. Maybe you should see if he’d be interested in taking pictures of your shop too.”
“You’re right! I better go tell Emil.”
Peggy watched her run back across the courtyard. Skip Taylor might be in for a full day of taking pictures and reporting on the shops in Brevard Court. She got in her car and raced through downtown Charlotte, hoping none of the blue and white squad cars would notice.
She was only a few minutes from the old Settler’s Cemetery on Fifth Street. It was maintained by the city as a park where workers from downtown could wander and eat lunch each day. The big oak trees overhung the neat paths creating quiet spaces to get away from the bustle of the city.
The cemetery was first used in 1776. Many of the area’s Revolutionary War heroes were buried here. The old tombstones told their tales of Charlotte’s early settlers who’d brought so much to the fledgling community.
Peggy parked her car on the street and went to search for Paul. She was a few minutes late. She hoped he’d waited for her. When she finally saw him, she waved and walked quickly to meet him.
“Mom.” His face was grim. “I’ve done something you’re not going to be happy about. I’m not happy about it either. It just happened.”
