6 A Thyme to Die
Page 6
“He didn’t waste any time,” Steve remarked. “He cares a lot about you.”
“We’ve known each other most of our lives.” Peggy unlocked the side door to the house. “John would laugh at the idea of Al and me working together.”
“So you weren’t into forensic botany when John was alive?”
“Maybe a little, but it was unapplied theory. I was working full-time at Queen’s University.”
She opened the door and Shakespeare ran out into the yard. His enthusiasm was humorous even though Steve felt like the Great Dane should have been better trained than to run out because the door was open.
“I’ll stay out here with him and get the mail,” Steve told her.
“All right. I’ll have to check on my plants. It shouldn’t take too long.”
“Good. I think we have some talking to catch up on.”
Peggy sighed as she left him outside. She wished she had better answers for him. She was afraid it was going to be a matter of time and learning to adapt to this new version of Steve. There was no magic pill or herb tea she could think of that would make a difference.
She kicked off her shoes and went downstairs to the basement. Switching on the lights, she could see Walter had done an excellent job tending to her plants. He was an eager, talented gardener, as well as an enthusiastic botanist. He wanted to know about everything she was working on. It was nice to have someone to talk to who was as interested in her experiments as she was.
John had loved gardening. He’d called working in the yard his getaway. He’d come home and put his hands in the dirt to forget all the ugly, sordid things he’d seen and heard on the streets of Charlotte. He was amazing with trees and shrubs and had grown azalea flowers the size of grapefruit. All of their neighbors had been envious.
She missed that close kinship in their interests. She and Steve talked about the things they were interested in, but they were very different things.
Her phone rang. It was Dorothy Beck, wanting her to come and work at the morgue tomorrow.
“I can’t do that,” Peggy said. “The police are letting the flower show open again tomorrow. I have to be there.”
“All right. We’ll just keep piling things up on your table.” Dorothy paused for humorous effect. “ Seriously, I really need you here to cover the botanical findings. If you can delegate some time to someone else, come on over. It’s possible those plant things we’re missing could help solve the case.”
“I’ll come if I can. If not tomorrow, since it will be opening day for the show, I’ll come the next day.”
Dorothy sighed dramatically into the phone. “We’ll do the best we can without you. The cause of death was easy enough. Dr. Abutto died from the gunshot wound. Whoever killed him was in a hurry to bury him. He had some dirt in his lungs.”
Aris was still alive when he was buried.
Peggy took a deep breath to calm herself. She didn’t mind helping the forensic lab at the morgue with information about botanical evidence, but she wasn’t very good with the other parts. She was still as squeamish now as she had been the first time she’d been involved in a murder investigation. She hoped she was better at hiding it.
“In other words, not a very nice person,” she said to Dorothy.
“Not many murderers are, my friend. Goodnight. I hope to see you tomorrow.”
Chapter Eight
Cedar
Cedar trees (Cupressaceae) have been very important to humans for hundreds of years. They have been used to make canoes, weapons, bowls and baskets. The pleasant smell humans enjoy is deadly to insects and fungus. They can reach 100 feet in height and can live a long time.
Peggy and Steve stayed up late that night, talking about everything from the time they’d met to the present day. It was early spring in Charlotte so Steve had started a dry cedar fire in the hearth where they sat. The smell was wonderful. At about ten p.m., they made hot chocolate and drank it as the words drained from them.
“Paul called me while I was outside with Shakespeare,” Steve told her. “He has the morning shift watching the house—and you. He’s not happy that you’re involved in the investigation.”
“He never is. You know Paul wants to protect me from everything.” She stared into the flames. “I’m sure he’s talked to you about it before.”
“He has,” Steve agreed. “I feel the same way. I’m not your son, so I know you’re going to do whatever you think you should do. It’s different.”
She smiled and put her empty cup on the side table. “I suppose it is. I know you worry too. That’s one good thing about finding out that you’re with the FBI. I can worry about you too.”
“Is that the best thing you can think of about it?”
“John was killed doing his job. I wouldn’t have chosen to marry another man who could die the same way.”
Steve’s eyes were steady on hers. “So you wouldn’t have married me if you’d known?”
Peggy leaned over and kissed him. “I don’t think I could’ve stopped myself. Even if I’d known, we’d still be sitting here by the fire, ready to go upstairs.”
“Well, that’s a good thing. I know this has been crazy for you. It was hard keeping it from you too.”
“You’re better at keeping secrets than I am.” She put her arms around him. “You didn’t give me my new bicycle until the day before my birthday party.”
He laughed. “Okay. I’m better with keeping big secrets. Maybe I’m not so good at keeping the small ones.”
“I don’t care. I love you, Steve. I want to be with you. I need a little time to get used to all of this. I’m sure we’ll work it out. Just don’t shut me out when something is going on, okay?”
Steve got to his feet and held out his hand to her. “Let’s finish this upstairs, huh? I’d rather talk to you in bed.”
How could she say no?
#
Peggy came downstairs with Shakespeare the next morning to find her son invading her kitchen.
“Good morning. I didn’t know surveillance meant eating all my food.”
“I’m starving.” Paul pulled out some hard boiled eggs and cheese from the refrigerator. “I had to leave before breakfast, not that Mai eats breakfast anymore. I’ll be glad when her morning sickness is over. I like the food situation here better since Steve moved in. At least there’s always something to eat.”
Peggy put the kettle on the stove to boil. “It seems odd that Al would assign you to keep an eye on me.”
“I volunteered.” Paul sat down and poured some orange juice. “I thought it might as well be me. I know you. I know how sneaky you can be.”
“Sneaky?” Steve joined them. “Your mother? Only when she isn’t sure if she’ll get to do something no one else wants her to do.”
“You two can stop talking about me like I’m not here anytime.” Peggy got down a cup and a peach tea bag. “I’m not sneaky, and adults get to do whatever they want, as long as it’s legal.”
Paul laughed. “Funny you don’t feel that way about me.”
“Me either.” Steve took Shakespeare outside for his morning walk.
“Do you have any English muffins?” Paul asked as he peeled an egg.
“You’re so like your father,” she remarked. “Always hungry. It used to make me so mad that he stayed skinny no matter what he ate.”
“Maybe you don’t eat enough.” Paul rummaged around until he found two slices of bread that he slid into the toaster. “Mai is always telling me the same thing. That’s why we never have anything good to eat at our house. Of course now we only have food that’s good for the baby.”
“Dr. Beck called me in to work on the botanical finds on the murder case. It will be nice to spend some time with Mai at the lab. Otherwise, I only get to see her when we have dinner once a month.”
Paul groaned. “I’m looking forward to that. After she spends ‘quality’ time with you, she picks up a lot of your opinions. Quit trying to brainwash my wife.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her you said that.”
He grabbed his toast when it popped up. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
Steve brought Shakespeare back in and fed him. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing.” Paul buttered his toast. “Same old mom.”
“If you’re watching out for your mother today, why aren’t you in uniform?” Steve asked.
“The captain thought it would be better for me to blend in.” Paul looked down at his jeans and T-shirt. “All I need is some dirt on my hands and no one will know that I’m not an excited gardener.”
“Good call.” Steve reached above Peggy’s head to grab a bag of donuts. “Breakfast of champions.”
“That’s what I’m looking for!” Paul’s hand made a quick snatch and grab when the bag of donuts was close enough. “So do we like anyone for the murder yet?”
“Not that I’ve heard.” Steve sat down with a cup of coffee. “Did they fill you in on why Al wanted to keep an eye on your mother?”
“Something about her being harassed by people who might be involved. Nothing definite.”
Peggy and Steve filled him in on the women who’d approached her about Dr. Abutto’s bag.
“Nice. So I’m there to protect you from some cute, young thing?” Paul smiled.
“I’m definitely going to tell Mai you said that.” Peggy stirred honey into her tea.
“By the way, while we’re on the subject, I got an email this morning. Dr. Abutto’s daughter is in London at the university. Scotland Yard will keep an eye on her while we work the investigation.” Steve popped a donut into his mouth.
“Well, maybe they’ll approach me again today and Paul can grab whichever version of Tanya comes to ask for the bag again. She might have some information. I’d like to get this over with.”
Paul tsked. “You always wanted me to be more interested in your plants. I have all day to stand around listening to you amaze everyone with what you know about seeds and weeds. How can you want that to be over?”
“No one you meet at the flower show today will be amazed at anything I know,” she corrected him. “These are experts, like Aris. If anything, I’ll be the one that’s amazed.”
Steve and Paul exchanged looks across the table and burst out laughing.
“We’re not buying it, Mom. It won’t matter how much they know, you’ll know more.”
“I’m with him,” Steve agreed. “And I have to get out of here. I’m meeting some agents at the airport to go over the private plane Dr. Abutto flew in on. Maybe it will give us some other clues as to what he brought into the country.”
Steve and Peggy kissed briefly before he left. When he was gone, Paul went down to the basement with his mother to check on her plants. Shakespeare ran loose in the walled garden outside, chasing birds and squirrels.
“How’s it going with you and Steve?” Paul poked around in her plants until Peggy told him to leave them alone.
“It’s going fine. Everyone is more worried about us than we are.”
“I talked to Steve, Mom. He’s worried.”
“I won’t say that it’s not difficult.” She adjusted the temperature on one of her experiments. “But I’m sure we’ll work it out.”
“Maybe you should tell him that.”
“I have. We talked about it for a long time last night.”
“Okay. I’m just saying—”
Walter poked his head into the open doorway. “I’m not intruding, am I?”
“Not at all.” Peggy was glad for the subject change. “Would you like to check the rotations on the plants for me? I want to make sure the sunlight is even.”
“I’d be happy to.” He bowed a little formally. “I’m going to change my mind about coming to the flower show, however, if that offer of a free ticket still stands. I watched the news last night. Who knew there’d be such drama?”
Peggy shook her head. “I think you’ll find the flowers and trees more interesting than the drama of someone’s death, especially since you enjoy the field so much.”
“I wouldn’t mind a ride there—you know how I hate to drive. I can have these calculations done by the time you’re ready to go.” He looked at her fuzzy lady bug slippers and robe.
“I took a taxi yesterday. It’s too far to ride my bike.” Peggy glanced at her son. “But since I’m going to be in protective custody today, maybe Paul can give both of us a ride.”
“You know I’m not supposed to do that,” Paul reminded her.
“In normal cases, yes,” she agreed. “But since you’re supposed to keep me safe, I think a ride for me and Walter would be in order.”
“Okay. If the captain comes down on me, I’m sending him to Al.”
“I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
Because Peggy had been so careful with her new green suit and heels yesterday, only to have the flower show close down, today she wore something a little less formal. The black slacks and shell-knit pink sweater were lightweight and very durable. She wore black flats instead of heels and added a little makeup to cover some of the fine lines that ran from her eyes and the heavy number of freckles on her face.
She thought again about dyeing the white streaks out of her bright red hair but it hardly seemed worth the effort. She wasn’t a glamorous figure. She was more worried about her plants than what she looked like. Steve seemed to be all right with that. Who else mattered?
Her computer on the desk in her bedroom chimed, telling her there was a new email. She sat down and brought up the hundreds of emails from universities and botanists around the world. She was looking for a particular email that she’d been expecting since yesterday.
There it was. She knew Nightflyer would send her something. He always seemed to know what was going on, especially if there was trouble.
Dear Peggy,
I see you’ve managed to get in the way of trouble once again. There is more than meets the eye on Dr. Abutto’s death, and many involved who will stop at nothing to complete the task he began when he left South Africa. Be very careful. Here is the number of a burner phone where you can reach me only for today. Don’t hesitate to call if you need help. ~ Nightflyer
Peggy copied the number into her cell phone but didn’t add a name to it. Since Steve had been investigating him, she didn’t want him to know that she was still in touch with her old friend. She was as guilty as Steve about hiding things, she supposed.
She turned off her computer. She was very good at keeping secrets when she needed to. It was something to remember when she thought about Steve keeping his secret from her.
In her heart, she knew she was more afraid of what could happen to him than that he’d kept his job with the FBI a secret. Loving a man, knowing that every time he left might be the last time she would see him, wasn’t easy. It was hard with Paul too.
When she went downstairs, Paul and Walter were studying the thirty-foot blue spruce that was growing in the entrance hall. It grew in the same opening that the large, spiral staircase occupied. John had argued with his family to have a skylight put in above it so the spruce had enough light. They didn’t like changes to the house.
“You know, Mom,” Paul said. “I think this tree looks a little off color. Maybe a little yellow. Could it be anemic?”
“No. It’s natural for evergreens to cycle through some color changes as they grow.” She touched the needles of the tree closest to her as she walked down the stairs. A few came off in her hand.
It was a pleasure to see the tree growing each day. She and John had planted it when they first moved here.
“I told him the same thing,” Walter said. “If you don’t know anything about plant life, it’s best to leave it alone.”
Paul shrugged. “I’d hate to see you have to take it out, that’s all. Ready?”
Paul had seen the t
ree every day of his life. Peggy liked that he’d thought about its health. She agreed with him about not wanting to take the tree out. She was very careful with it, and regularly consulted an arborist who was a friend of hers. She might have him come by and take a look, just to be sure.
“I’m ready,” she said. “Let’s hope things go better today.”
Walter snickered. “Or at least they’re as interesting.”
Traffic was light from Queen’s Road to the convention center. They made excellent time. Despite what had happened yesterday—or maybe because of it—the parking lot was full. People were lined up at the gate waiting to get inside.
“Looks like the murder helped attendance,” Paul said. “I’ll let you two off here and park the car. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”
Peggy poked him. “There were crowds here yesterday that had to be turned away. Maybe some of them are lookey-loos, but gardeners from across the world attend the flower show every year. Just because you don’t like gardening, doesn’t mean other people don’t.”
Her son laughed. “You are so predictable. Just mention something bad about flowers and you get all riled up.”
She ignored him and got out of the car. Walter was already out and waiting for her. It was nine-forty-five; the gate would open at ten. Peggy hoped everyone was ready for the surge of traffic that would come through the doors.
“Good morning again, Peggy.” Reggie saluted her. “Looks like a busy morning. I hope things go better today, I surely do.”
“Thanks. I hope so too.”
Chapter Nine
Daisy
Daisies have been known since at least 2,000 B.C. They were cultivated for their herbal and medicinal properties. These flowers have always been used by pharmacists and physicians from around the world, as the daisy has some hybrid in every culture. During medieval times in England, it was known as ‘daes eage’ which meant ‘day’s eye’, a correlation to using the flowers as a cure for eye ailments. The plant has been used at one time or another to treat nearly all the parts of the human body.
The convention center was humming with activity as everyone did last minute prep for the visitors waiting outside. Thousands of colored chrysanthemums made up everything from rainbow bridges to tents and animals. Thousands of daisies had been used to create dream gardens and everyday items such as wheelbarrows, tractors, and fountains. The smell of roses, every shade imaginable, brought cottages, forests and carriages with flowered horses to life.