6 A Thyme to Die

by Joyce Lavene

  As the years had passed, Paul had proven to be dedicated to the job and serious about his task of upholding the laws of the city. He wasn’t reckless, despite having her red hair and fiery temper. She’d relaxed, especially after his marriage to assistant medical examiner, Mai Sato. They had a pretty little house and Mai was pregnant with their first child. It seemed her initial fears had been unfounded.

  Still there was that tightness in her chest when she knew he was on duty.

  “What happened here?” Paul asked her. “Any idea if something might be in there? I guess it’s not supposed to look that way.”

  She shuddered. “All I can tell you is that the Egyptians buried their dead with thyme. Maybe that doesn’t mean anything—I hope it doesn’t. Are they going to dig it up?”

  “I’m not sure yet. We’re waiting for whoever is going to take jurisdiction on this.” He shrugged. “Could be the FBI. It is the International Flower Show.”

  She knew he was teasing her. Friends had joked about them working together since they’d learned of Steve taking the job in Charlotte. Peggy infrequently worked with the Charlotte PD on cases requiring forensic botanical expertise.

  “Surely the FBI has better things to do than dig up dirt mounds, even if they might be graves.” She took a quick look at her watch. “I wish they’d do whatever they’re going to do. The show opens in an hour. Where is everyone?”

  “Probably being held outside until we figure out what to do. If there’s a dead body in there, like you think, you know what that means.”

  Having been married to a cop for thirty years and consulted with the police on occasion, Peggy knew exactly what that meant.

  It probably also meant the committee that chose sites for the flower show would never choose Charlotte again.

  “Who’s making the decision? Should we give them a call? I could be completely wrong about this and opening day would be ruined for nothing.” Peggy was beginning to regret that she’d called the police.

  “Actually, I think Al is making the decision. Calm down, Mom. He’ll be here.” Paul patted his mother on the shoulder in a perfunctory manner.

  “That’s right. I guess as head of homicide, that would be his job.”

  Peggy thought about all the years that Detective Al McDonald was her husband’s partner. He was notorious for being late. She loved him dearly, but the man couldn’t make it to his own wedding on time when he’d married his wife, Mary.

  There was a disturbance at the door. Al, along with Charlotte’s new medical examiner, Dorothy Beck, walked into the convention center. They had a technician with them in a gray coverall who was holding a shovel. Peggy hoped this would be the person who could dig up the mound and figure out what was going on.

  Please don’t let there be a dead person in that grave. I want to be wrong.

  There was someone else with Al and Doctor Beck. Peggy would have known his handsome face anywhere. It was Steve, no doubt there in his capacity as area director for the FBI.

  She watched him walk toward her, talking on the phone and conversing with another man in a suit and tie, probably an associate. She felt so lucky to have found love twice in her lifetime.

  Steve was ten years younger than her. They’d literally run into each other one morning at a coffee shop. He’d apologized and offered to repair her bike, even though it was her own fault for daydreaming while she was in city traffic.

  She wondered, but hadn’t asked, if he’d facilitated that accident to get to know her. Or was it exactly as it had seemed? Not that it mattered, but—

  “Peggy.” Al smiled and acknowledged her. “I might have known you’d be here. Plants and murder. They always call to you.”

  Al’s heavy-set black face sat low on his thick, muscular neck. He was a large, strong man even so many years after he was the high school and college star quarterback. He and John had grown up together before both going to the police academy, and later, becoming partners.

  “Believe me, I don’t want this to be anything but a poor joke.” Peggy’s green eyes flashed under her white-streaked red hair. “Can we do something to speed this up before the opening?”

  “I understand you’re in charge of this whole shebang.” Dr. Beck stepped forward and shook Peggy’s hand. They’d worked together on a case last year.

  “You could say that.” Peggy’s gaze flickered toward Steve. She couldn’t help it. She forced herself to focus on Dr. Beck’s brown eyes. “I’m the chairman of the committee that brought the flower show to Charlotte.”

  In the meantime, Al had been walking leisurely around the dirt mound on the concrete floor.

  “And you think this might really be a grave?” he asked her.

  “It’s the thyme.” She showed him the flowers and explained about the plant’s meaning as it was used in Egyptian burial practice. “I can’t believe anyone here at the show would have anything to do with it.”

  “Wouldn’t it be out of the ordinary for anyone else to have that information?” Steve asked.

  It felt to Peggy as though the large convention center grew totally silent after he’d spoken. Al glanced away and Dr. Beck put on her glasses.

  “Millions of people know about the language of flowers and about plant meanings. It wouldn’t only be the people here that have that information.” Peggy responded as though she wasn’t talking to her husband. He was just another person working for law enforcement.

  “Anyone else here using this plant for their exhibit?” he asked.

  She consulted her tablet PC that had all of the information about the growers and vendors. “No. No one has it listed.”

  Al took a deep breath and nodded at the technician standing next to Steve. “Watcha got for us, Director Newsome?”

  Steve stepped up to the mound. “I have a portable scanner that should tell us if anything is buried in there. That way we’ll know if we need to dig it up.”

  “Nice toy.” Al grinned, shaking Steve’s hand. “Congratulations on the promotion.”

  “Thanks.” Steve cast a doubtful look in Peggy’s direction. “Let’s see if anything is in there.”

  He and Al stepped back from the grave. The technician set up the scanner. Dr. Beck slid her tall, angular form close enough so that she could see the images relayed back.

  Peggy stayed where she was, beside Paul. She wondered if Al had known about Steve working with the FBI before she did but also wasn’t able to say anything. They hadn’t talked about it.

  “I see something in there,” the technician said. “Not sure what it is.”

  Dr. Beck carefully surveyed the image. “I’m afraid what we’re seeing is a foot. I think Peggy may be right about a dead body in this mound of dirt. I’ll send for a team to excavate it properly.”

  Peggy took a deep, calming breath. “I guess that means the opening will be delayed.”

  “I’m afraid so.” Al took out his worn notebook and a pen. “When were you here last, Peggy?”

  “Last night at ten-thirty. Everything seemed to be ready. The mound wasn’t there. I got home at about eleven.”

  She glanced up at Steve again. Their gazes clashed and skittered uncomfortably away.

  “Any idea who might be in there?” Steve asked her.

  “Absolutely none, Director Newsome.” She answered with a cheeky smile.

  “I guess we’ll know when we get rid of that dirt.” Dr. Beck got on her cell phone with her team who were in the parking lot.

  “I’ll go and tell the vendors the bad news.” Peggy walked away, the only thing holding her back straight, a refusal to let everyone see how disappointed she was. She felt their eyes on her.

  Her new shoes pinched her toes, the sound of the heels echoing in the huge room. She kept herself from falling apart after all the hard work by reminding herself that all of the vendors and growers deserved to know what was going on.

  Hundreds of flower show participants were waiting at the gate with several police officers stationed between them and th
e chain link fence. When they saw Peggy, they rushed to the gate asking dozens of questions.

  Peggy held up her hands and called for quiet so they could hear her.

  “I’m very sorry to tell you all that the flower show won’t open this morning.” She knew better than to tell them that she’d found a dead body inside. That would have to be for later, after the police had released their information. “The police are checking out an irregularity that could make it dangerous for any of you to be inside.”

  “The police?” A grower she recognized from Florida pushed forward. “What kind of irregularity? I’ve got twenty thousand dollars’ worth of plants in there that aren’t getting any fresher.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry. That’s all I can say right now. I have all of your contact information. Someone will get in touch with you as soon as we’re able to open.”

  There was a lot of grumbling and complaining until the crowd of participants finally started moving away from the gate. That left a smaller group of visitors who had paid for tickets on opening day.

  “There will be a full refund,” Peggy assured those unhappy people. “You’ll also be able to come to the flower show on another day. We’re trying to work out this problem as quickly as possible.”

  That group of people complained before heading back to their cars. There was even a bus from Huntersville, North Carolina with at least fifty people on it that had to turn around and go back home.

  In the midst of all the disgruntled people leaving the parking lot, Peggy caught sight of Sam and Selena from The Potting Shed. She told the police to let them through the gate.

  “You two are a welcome sight.” Peggy hurried them away from the officers.

  “What gives?” Sam Ollson had been working for Peggy since his first year of college. His blond hair and year-round tan from working outside made him look like a large, muscular surfer. He’d given up attending med school to become her partner in The Potting Shed.

  “I think someone may have been murdered in there last night after I left,” Peggy whispered.

  “Murdered?” Selena Rogers’s voice went higher and louder than Peggy would’ve wished. “How is that possible? It’s a bunch of flower growers.”

  “Hey! I’m a flower grower.” Sam spread his large hands that he frequently used to express himself when he wasn’t shoveling dirt or planting flowers. “I think I could get rid of someone giving me a hard time. Maybe you.”

  “You wish.” Selena glared at him, her cocoa-skin emphasizing her whisky-colored eyes. Long, black hair blew across her shoulders in the morning breeze. She was very thin but muscular, a long distance runner at Queen’s University.

  Peggy was used to the two of them bickering back and forth, but now wasn’t a good time. “Don’t make this any worse.”

  “I don’t see how it could be much worse.” Sam nodded toward the rapidly emptying parking lot. “There were hundreds of people at the gate already. We can’t get inside for no telling how long. We have a sizeable investment in our exhibit that might be ruined. What could be worse than that?”

  “FBI Director Steve Newsome is here.” Peggy rolled her eyes as she dramatically pronounced the name.

  “Great.” Sam knew all about what had been going on in Peggy’s life. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his tight jeans. “Just when I thought everything bad had already happened.”

  “Newsome?” Selena wrinkled her nose as she tried to make her brain work without caffeine. “Wait. You mean Steve, right? I mean, he probably should be here, right? The FBI is good. Maybe the job will get done faster. And you have an ‘in’ with someone who can tell you what’s going on.”

  Peggy looked into her assistant’s pretty, hopeful face. “It’s not exactly the ‘in’ I was looking for.”

  Sam shook his head and frowned at Selena. Their non-verbal communication was sometimes better than when they spoke. Selena scuffed the toe of her shoe on the gravel parking lot and didn’t reply.

  “What can we do?” Sam asked.

  “I don’t know yet. We’ll have to wait until they uncover the body and secure the scene. Nothing is going to happen until then. We might be able to open the show tomorrow. I guess you two should go back and open The Potting Shed so the day won’t be a complete waste.”

  “But we’re officially closed for the day,” Selena said. “There’s a big sign on the door, and I posted it on our website.”

  “I know, but when our customers realize what’s happened, they might show up there.”

  Sam shrugged. “With this fiasco, we can’t afford not to make some money. Come on, Selena. Let’s go. Call us if you need anything.”

  Peggy agreed she would call them. She watched them leave before she turned back to go inside.

  Steve met her outside the door to the convention center. He was alone, and his expression was troubled. “I’m sorry this happened. You’ve worked hard on this for a long time.”

  “Did they find anyone?”

  “Not yet.” He looked past her as a white crime scene van was allowed through the gate. “It shouldn’t be too much longer.”

  “Why are you here?” She got to the heart of the matter. “Since when does the FBI come in on a local case?”

  “You have more than eighty vendors and growers from all over the country, some from outside the country. This event has been on our radar for a while. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”

  “Let’s stop saying that, okay?” She opened the door and went inside without him.

  Steve took a deep breath and followed her.

  It wasn’t long before Dr. Beck’s crime scene team had carefully dug up the mound. All the dirt would be taken back from the area along with the dogwood cross and other items close to the grave.

  “Whose exhibit is this, Peggy?” Al asked her.

  Peggy again took her tablet out of her enormous flowered bag. She pulled up her file of vendors and growers, in case he needed the address. “This area was set up by Bandy’s Flowers of Distinction from Richmond, Virginia. Rebecca Bandy is the proprietor and vendor.”

  “Everything okay?” Paul whispered as he gravitated to her side again.

  “Everything is fine.”

  “I thought you always told me it was bad to lie.”

  “Thanks, Peggy. We’ll speak with Ms. Bandy.” Al flipped over to a clean sheet of paper in his tiny notebook.

  “You should get one of these,” Peggy said. “It’s easy to carry and you won’t need a pen. Besides, you and I both know you can’t read your writing.”

  The police officers, including Paul, snickered a little.

  “No, thanks. I’ve been doing it this way since I started walking a beat.” Al flipped over another sheet of paper. “Anything unusual happen here yesterday? Any fights or disagreements?”

  “Not as far as I know. I didn’t see anything.”

  “Okay,” Dr. Beck called out from the area they were clearing. “We have something.”

  Peggy and Al went closer into the exhibit. The whole space was torn apart, and in the center of the area where the pile of dirt had been, was a body.

  It was a black man, dirt smudging his features. He was wearing a colorful robe that reached down to his ankles. His shoes were gone. Other than being covered in dirt, he looked as though he was asleep.

  Peggy sucked in a sudden breath and held her hand to her chest.

  “Do you recognize him?” Al took her arm. “Peggy? Do you know him?”

  “Yes. His name is Aris Abutto. He’s from South Africa. He’s here to exhibit his new orchids.” Her voice broke. “I’ve known him for a long time.”

  Chapter Three

  Orchid

  Historically the meaning of orchids is wealth, love, and beauty. The ancient Greeks believed orchids improved virility. Orchids have also been credited with healing properties. The Aztecs were said to drink a mixture of the vanilla orchid and chocolate to give them power and strength.

  Dr. Beck and her team prepared to m
ove the body to the morgue. Al asked Peggy to walk him to Dr. Abutto’s exhibit. It was a long way down the concourse and up to the second floor.

  Peggy lamented each wilting flower she saw as they passed dozens of exhibits. She hoped the police could clear up enough of the investigation that the show could open tomorrow.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a heads up about Steve.” Al huffed as he walked slowly beside her. “You didn’t know he was going to be here, did you?”

  “He didn’t tell me before I left the house, but he probably didn’t know until I called it in.” She stopped walking. “Did you know about Steve—before I did? Have you worked with him before?”

  Al took her hand. “It was a surprise to me when the FBI sent me his information. I guess he’s worked in our area, but not with me. I didn’t know about him and John either. I’ve asked around. They still won’t talk about it. I don’t like it.”

  She closed her eyes, and opened them to look into his bloodshot brown ones. “I know what you mean. It’s bad enough John is dead. Now that I know his death was more involved. Honestly, this whole thing with him has had me up in the air a little.”

  “Steve is a good man. I don’t care if he’s a vet or an agent. Or both. He’ll explain when he can. John didn’t tell you everything about every case he was involved on either. You didn’t know he was working with the FBI, did you? I know I didn’t.”

  “No.” She smiled at her old friend. “You’re right. I guess I’ve been silly about it. It was such a shock. I would never have guessed the truth. It scares me a little.”

  “That Steve was watching out for you after John was killed? Or that he fell in love with you?” He squeezed her hand. “I know it’s not easy being married to someone who might not come home again after shift. Mary tells me all the time.”

  “Thanks, Al.” She kissed his cheek. “I talked to Mary the other day. She says you broke your promise to her when you became head of homicide. You were supposed to retire.”

  “I put a down payment on a house at the beach last week.” He laughed, his bulbous nose shaking a little. “I don’t think she wants me to retire yet.”