6 A Thyme to Die

by Joyce Lavene

  One of the officers that had responded to the hit and run came up and quietly gave Al some information.

  “That’s fine.” Al shook his head. “That Mercedes was reported stolen three days ago. The rental company is probably in the clear. Good chance if someone rented it and didn’t take it back that they used fake ID.”

  “Dead end,” Paul said.

  “I’ve been thinking since I talked to Dr. Beck.” Peggy pushed her ideas forward anyway. “Has someone actually spoken with the real Tanya? I know she’s supposed to be at her school in London. Has someone personally verified that?”

  “What are you thinking?” Al frowned.

  Before Peggy could answer, there were some shouts and chaos as dozens of flower show visitors ran for the front door to get out.

  “What’s going on in there?” Paul glanced inside the open door.

  “I’ll have to get back with you on that.” Peggy walked in. “I’ll have to figure out what’s wrong.”

  “No rush!” Al grinned at her before he started walking away from the entrance.

  Paul went inside with his mother. Visitors were running, as though being chased, down the concourse.

  “What’s wrong?” Peggy asked one of them. “What happened?”

  “There’s an animal loose in there,” the man told her. “Someone said it’s a skunk.”

  “Oh dear.”

  Peggy knew exactly where to look. One of the growers from Minnesota had given her grief about several aspects of his exhibit. He grew plants and animals for the film industry and wanted to showcase both.

  Her first issue was with the type of plant he wanted to exhibit. They were full-sized marijuana plants. He claimed to have a license from Minnesota to grow the plants. Peggy had to tell him that his license wasn’t valid in North Carolina. He switched to eight-foot sunflowers, which were lovely.

  The second disagreement they’d had was over the skunk he’d wanted to bring, claiming the animal as a living thing too, and that he should be entitled to show it.

  Peggy had said no, of course, even though the skunk was de-scented. As soon as she heard skunk, she went to exhibit three hundred and fifty where Ken Benigni was talking to some enthusiastic gardeners.

  “Ken? Could I have a word with you?” she asked.

  “Sure.” He told the gardeners he’d be right back. “What’s up?”

  Peggy smiled sweetly at him. He looked like a mountain man with a full, dark beard that covered most of his face, and long, unkempt black hair. His clothes were worn and dirty and his boots had holes. Still he was very successful at what he did. His plants and animals had been in many major motion pictures and TV shows.

  “Did you bring your skunk with you after I asked you not to?”

  He hung his head. “I can’t leave Matilda at home. She’s been with me since she was born. It was too hot for her to stay in the truck. You don’t want her to get dehydrated, do you? Skunks dehydrate quickly.”

  “Where’s Matilda right now?”

  Ken looked around his exhibit. “She was right here. Let me check her box.”

  Of course, Matilda was gone. She’d gone for a stroll and had somehow managed to get in an elevator, unnoticed. She got off on the second floor.

  Screams of ‘skunk’ and shouting came from upstairs. People ran down the stairs and pushed into the elevator to get away.

  “She won’t hurt a fly,” Ken assured Peggy.

  “She can’t stay. You’ll have to find somewhere for her to be during the remainder of the flower show. I’m sorry. Can you go get her now?”

  Ken argued. Peggy was resolute, although she compromised on one small aspect.

  She sent him to get Matilda. “I can’t believe he brought the skunk,” she said to Paul when Ken was gone.

  “I can’t believe you said he could keep the skunk at your house while he was here.” Paul chuckled. “I don’t know whose face I’d like to see more when the skunk gets there—Steve’s or Shakespeare’s.”

  “I’m glad you were here to handle that.” Adam Morrow was standing behind them.

  “Thank you for filling in for me.” Peggy shook his hand.

  Adam was an ambitious man who’d taken his father’s single florist shop on Wendover Road and developed it into a chain. He wasn’t the usual type of flower-loving florist. He knew a lot about plants, but he wasn’t keen on working with them.

  “Not a problem.” He pulled a cell phone from the pocket of his sharply creased jeans. “Excuse me, Peggy. We’re having a run on people who want to know what every flower means after you told the media that the thyme had significance on Dr. Abutto’s grave.”

  Paul and Peggy went to see how Sam and Selena were doing at The Potting Shed exhibit. There was a large group of people listening to Sam describe how to create a backyard garden that would be friendly for birds and butterflies.

  Selena was leaning against the fence watching him. “He’s good. You should have him out in front of the shop everyday instead of flowers and flower pots.”

  “I would if he’d do it. Why do you think his workshops are always so well attended?”

  “Yeah, I know. He’s already sold a dozen people on setting up new landscape work. Definitely a garden wonder child. I wonder if he ever regrets giving up med school?”

  “I guess you’d have to ask him,” Peggy said. “It wasn’t my idea for him to continue this work. But I wasn’t going to say no once he said he wanted to stay.”

  “Well don’t expect me to do that when I finish my degree. I’m going out on my own.”

  “Did you ever decide on a major?” Paul asked her.

  “I’ve decided on several of them.” She shrugged. “At the rate I’m going, I’ll be eighty before I’m done.”

  Peggy laughed. “I guess you and Sam will be running The Potting Shed then. I don’t think I’ll be around, except in spirit.”

  Steve reached them at that point in their conversation. He almost lifted Peggy off the floor with his hug and then kissed her long and hard on the lips.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” He looked her over carefully. “You could have a concussion and not know it.”

  “I’m fine. Really. Thank you for coming back. I hope you were done at the airport.”

  He put his hand on Paul’s shoulder. “You’re okay too?”

  “I’m fine,” Paul muttered, his face turning red.

  “We’re both fine, thanks to my son’s superior reflexes. I heard the car coming toward us. I didn’t think to move.”

  Steve hugged them both. “I’m so glad he was with you.”

  Paul extricated himself from Steve’s embrace and straightened his jacket. “It’s what I’m trained to do. That’s why I was there.”

  “I’m done at the airport,” Steve answered Peggy’s question as an afterthought. “We picked up a lot of prints and botanical evidence. Dr. Beck will probably want you to look at it. I won’t know if we have anything that will help until forensics goes through it.”

  “I hope that goes better than what forensics had from Aris’s body and the crime scene. What I looked at wasn’t much.”

  “We definitely need a break in this case.” Steve watched Sam sell two more landscaping contracts. “Anything interesting happen that didn’t involve someone trying to kill you?”

  Peggy told him about the skunk. “Are you going back to the office today?”

  “I haven’t had lunch yet.” He looked at his watch. “I guess after that, I’ll probably meet with Al and see what else we can come up with. I don’t like the idea that someone is out there trying to think of ways to hurt you.”

  Paul posed his questions about why someone would want to kill Peggy. “Maybe it was a warning, but if so, what were they warning her about? We know the Mercedes was stolen, and she spotted it with one of her Tanya visits. We have to figure out why they went from trying to get the duffel to running her down.”

  “I agree. Can you stay with her? I’ll come back and pick her up.”<
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  Paul nodded. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.”

  “Thank you.” Steve kissed Peggy. “Be careful.”

  “In the meantime, could you drop something off at the house for me?”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  Peggy had Paul get on his cell phone with Ken Benigni. “Her name is Matilda. I’m sure you’ll get along fine.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Juniper

  This shrub grows from 4 - 6 feet, usually with a twisted trunk. The green/blue berries take more than 2 years to ripen. They have an aromatic scent that has been used to flavor gin and as seasoning for lamb and mutton dishes. The perfume industry has used them to give aftershaves a masculine scent for years. Juniper was one of the first shrubs to populate the British Isles after the Ice Age, about 12,000 years ago.

  Steve wasn’t happy about taking the caged skunk back to the house, even if it was de-scented.

  “Just think of her as one of your veterinary patients. You’ve taken care of horses and cows. Why not skunks?”

  Her husband had plenty of reasons ‘why not’. He still took the skunk back with him, after Peggy promised it was only for a few days.

  Ken was tearful as he watched Steve take Matilda out of the convention center but he was thankful for Peggy’s help. “You won’t mind if I come and see her, will you?”

  “I don’t know a thing about taking care of a skunk. You’ll have to come and feed her, and whatever else is necessary, while she’s my guest.”

  “I was right,” Paul said after Steve and Ken were gone. “That look on Steve’s face was priceless. I wish I could’ve captured it on my phone.”

  “You were afraid he’d knock you down, right?” Sam slapped him on the back.

  Paul shook his hand. “You mean because I know he’s FBI now?”

  “I’ve looked at him differently,” Sam admitted. “I never thought of him carrying a gun under his hoodie.”

  “Hey! I carry a gun too. That doesn’t impress me.”

  “I guess I’m more easily impressed.” Sam looked away. “Maybe I should get into law enforcement too. That way every man Peggy knows would be carrying a gun.”

  “I don’t think she needs that, guys.” Selena smiled at her wise words. “I know I don’t.”

  “I’m going to check on everything again,” Peggy said to Sam. “Selena told me you’ve done great today. You still have three more days. Have you thought anymore about hiring someone to help you at the shop?”

  “I have.” He shrugged. “That’s about it. I’m sure I’ll be thinking about it a lot harder when I’m out trying to keep up with these new contracts.”

  Peggy and Paul started down the concourse again. Everything seemed to be running smoothly, although several vendors complained about the skunk. The crowds were thinning as the afternoon waned. By five, when they closed the doors, she expected most people to be gone.

  She checked with the employee of the convention center stationed at the front door. The numbers were good for that day. Peggy hoped they’d be even better tomorrow.

  With everything downstairs running well, Peggy and Paul went upstairs. Aris’s crime scene-taped exhibit was a stark reminder of his death. Some visitors stopped and took pictures of the spot that was out of bounds for them.

  “I suppose the crime scene people have looked at everything in the exhibit,” she said to Paul.

  “You know they did. They usually don’t miss anything. Why? Is something bothering you?”

  Peggy didn’t want to tell him about the call she received from Nightflyer, but she needed someone to bounce ideas off of.

  “Suppose Aris was smuggling drugs into the flower show. What kind of drugs would that be?”

  “I’m not sure. From South Africa, it could be any of the usual drugs—cocaine, heroin—anything botanical too.” Paul looked at the front of the exhibit with her.

  “That area really isn’t particularly known for drugs, is it?” She pursed her lips. “The only thing I think of with South Africa is diamonds.”

  “That’s true. Diamonds are kind of yesterday, I think. I’m not an expert on international smuggling.”

  The wheels were turning in Peggy’s head as they walked through the exhibits upstairs. If Paul wasn’t with her tomorrow, Peggy decided she’d come in early and look closely through Aris’s demolished exhibit. Maybe even if Paul with her. She could always distract him.

  Everything was running smoothly upstairs too. They took the elevator back down and Paul went to the restroom. He told Peggy to wait where she was.

  “If you’re gone when I get out, tomorrow I’ll have to cuff us together. Okay?”

  Her green eyes narrowed on her son’s dear face. “Do you really expect me to agree with that?”

  “No. I expect you to wait for me.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Peggy leaned against the wall near the snack area. Machines that held chips and candy bars mingled with soda providers and juice box vendors. There were dozens of people seated at the plastic tables, enjoying their break from the flower show.

  There was a maintenance room next to the vending area. The door was closed, but Peggy could hear voices through it.

  “We have to find it,” a familiar voice said.

  She recognized it as Tim Roseboro’s voice, even though it was muffled.

  “Take it easy. We’ll find it. It’s gotta be here somewhere, right?”

  That was definitely Dabney Wilder’s voice.

  It might be a long-shot, but could they be talking about the missing duffel bag?

  Peggy moved a little further into the vending room. She wanted to hear if they had more to say, but she didn’t want them to know she was listening.

  Al might be right about her taking her life in her hands by confronting Dabney. He was a little on the sleazy side, even though he was a well-known attorney. Everyone knew if you had the money, he’d defend you.

  Not that everyone didn’t deserve a fair defense. There was something sleazy about Dabney—probably the reason no one voted for him when he’d run for DA.

  Tim Roseboro was a puzzle. Why would he be involved with whatever Aris had been smuggling? And how did the three of them come to be part of what had happened?

  There were too many questions and not enough answers.

  Paul came out of the restroom and briefly looked around, a frown forming on his freckled face. His eyes lit up as soon as he saw his mother.

  “Were you testing me?”

  “No.” Peggy held him back as Tim and Dabney came out of the maintenance room. The two other men were straightening their suits and ties, appearing incredibly nervous and guilty.

  “Is that why you came in here?”

  “I heard them talking through the door. They’re looking for something. Maybe they’re looking for Aris’s duffel.”

  “Maybe,” Paul joked. “Or maybe they’re looking for a new place to buy their next sports car. Who knows?”

  He started walking back toward The Potting Shed exhibit.

  Peggy followed him. “Don’t you find it a little odd that these two rich, well-connected men would be skulking around in a maintenance closet?

  “I find everything rich, well-connected men do a little odd.”

  They passed a beautiful exhibit created by a grower from Florida. In the midst of all the spring and summer blooms, Jazzy’s Junipers, had chosen to create a winter scene. It played well with their product, six and seven-foot junipers. They’d brought them potted to the flower show. From the looks of the crowd gathered around the log cabin and sleigh, the junipers were doing very well.

  Peggy took two small sprigs of the dark green foliage that held a black berry or two. She put one in her pocket and one in her son’s.

  Paul pulled his berry out and examined it. “What’s this?”

  “Juniper. In the language of flowers, this plant means protection.” She linked her arm through his. “I think we might need a little of that.”<
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  He put his arm around her shoulders. “I appreciate that, Mom. But really, I’d rather have my revolver.”

  “You were always stubborn.”

  “And who did I get that from?”

  Peggy gazed at the side of his face as they walked. “Do you really think there’s something to the FBI investigating your father’s death as something other than a domestic disturbance homicide?”

  “You know I’ve always felt that something wasn’t right about Dad’s death. When you and I argued about me going into the police academy, you accused me of wanting revenge.”

  “Yes. I did.”

  “It was really justice that I wanted for him. I want to know what happened and why he died, especially now that I know about the FBI connection.” His jaw tightened as he spoke. “Don’t you?”

  Peggy agreed, theoretically. She was afraid of what she might have to sacrifice to find justice for John’s death. That had always been her argument against Paul being on the job. She didn’t plan to lose her son the same way she’d lost his father.

  The same way she could lose Steve.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Spruce

  Spruce trees are long-lived and grow in colder climates. One tree in western Sweden has been found to be more than 9,000 years old. The wood from spruce has been used to build homes and boats for generations. The resin was used to seal roofs and to keep ships seaworthy in the past. The fresh roots are a source of Vitamin C which Captain Cook used to keep his crew from developing scurvy. The essential oils have been used for various purposes too. Spruces weren’t used for ornamental trees until the 1800s when their conical shape began to be admired.

  Steve was waiting at The Potting Shed exhibit when Peggy and Paul reached it.

  “You’re back early.” Peggy kissed his cheek. “It must’ve been a short meeting.”

  “Actually, the meeting was canceled until six tonight at the ME’s office. Al and Dr. Beck would like their forensic botanist at the meeting.” He put his arm around her.