by Joyce Lavene
“You did?” She tried not to notice how her pulse fluctuated at his words. “I thought I was buying you dinner for taking care of the dog.”
His face was shadowed, but there was laughter in his voice. “And here I was fooling myself all day that you thought I was attractive and you couldn’t wait to go out with me.”
Peggy was glad for the shadows as she felt a blush come over her face. She searched in her pocketbook for her keys and told herself to calm down. “Speaking of the dog, how is he?”
“Were we talking about the dog? Okay. I can take a hint. The dog seems to be fine. He’s undernourished and needs to gain some weight, but he mostly looks bad. His body is basically sound. I think he needs a good home.”
“I’m willing to provide that until I can find his owner. I’m going to print up some flyers tonight and put them out tomorrow. He’s an expensive dog. Somebody must be missing him.”
“Maybe,” Steve said. “But did you notice that his ears aren’t cropped? If he was pedigreed, the chances are his owner would’ve taken care of that. He’s definitely not a show dog. He doesn’t recognize any commands. If you’re going to keep him, you’ll have to have him trained.”
She finally got the front door open. “I don’t plan on keeping him that long. As you noticed, I’m pretty busy. I don’t have time for a dog.”
“Then you plan to nurse him back to health so you can give him to the pound and they can put him to sleep?”
“Are you always so absolute?” Peggy let him walk by her, then shut the door.
“Are you always so optimistic?”
She turned on the lights in the foyer.
“Wow!” He looked up at the blue spruce. “Are you getting ready for Christmas?”
For a moment, Peggy panicked. How could she do this? Everything that meant something to her and John was around her. How could she let another man into her life? How could she explain all those things she and John thought were special? Steve, or any other man, would probably think she was crazy. She could argue with herself that she wasn’t attracted to Steve that way. But she knew it wasn’t true.
“I planted it here when I moved in thirty years ago,” she explained.
Her heart was racing as he walked around the tree. She didn’t know what to expect from him. She promised herself she wouldn’t give up on moving forward in her life, even if he acted like a jerk. Not everyone could like or appreciate her for what she was. John did, but he was exceptional. Maybe she was greedy to think she could have more than one exceptional man in her life.
“It’s great!” Steve looked back at her. “I wonder if I could get one to grow in my foyer.”
5
Hibiscus
Botanical: Hibiscus rosa-sinensis
Family: Malvaceae
Common Name: Queen of tropical flowers
Hibiscus is native to Asia and the Pacific islands. It signifies peace and happiness. The red hibiscus is worn behind the ear by women of the Pacific islands. If she wears it behind the left ear, she is desirous of a lover. Behind the right ear, she is already spoken for. But if she wears a flower behind each ear, she has a lover but would like another.
PEGGY MADE SCRAMBLED EGGS and toast for dinner. She apologized to Steve for not realizing her cupboard was bare. “I only shop when there’s no food in the house.”
“Yeah, me, too. Don’t worry about it. This is great. What kind of herbs are in the eggs?”
“These are green scallions that I grow myself. They’re a little sweeter than the ordinary ones. I’m glad you like them.” She poured them both another cup of orange spice tea.
He sat back in his chair. “I like your house, too.”
“It was built in the 1920s. It belonged to my husband’s family. He was a direct descendent of Robert E. Lee.” She took a sip of her tea and smiled. “Of course, since you aren’t from the South, that doesn’t mean anything to you.”
“That’s not true. I’m very impressed. I grew up in Cleveland, but I came down here over the summer every year. My uncle and my mother were the only ones left of their family. They were pretty tight. Now both of them are gone. I always loved his house and this neighborhood. So when he died, I moved my practice down here.”
“How is it you and your uncle both had the same last name?” She turned her back and took out two strawberry tarts she bought last week at Harris Teeter. They smelled all right. No mold spots. Praying they weren’t stale, she gave one to Steve on a napkin.
“Thanks.” He put the tart on his plate. “My mother never married. I never knew my father. I don’t know why she moved to Cleveland instead of staying here where her family was. But that’s my life story.”
She smiled as she tasted the tart. It wasn’t too bad. “I’m sure there’s more to it.”
“I suppose. Let me see. I’m forty-five years old. I have all my own teeth and hair. I graduated somewhere in the middle of my class at the University of Ohio. I’ve never been married. I can’t tell you exactly how much money I make because only my accountant knows that. I’m afraid to ask.”
“You’re very honest.”
“And obnoxiously absolute.” He saluted her with the tart, then ate it. “Pretty good. What about you?”
Peggy didn’t want to go there. “You know, I want to pay you for your work with the dog. More than just some scrambled eggs.”
“Okay. I’ll have my accountant send you a bill. Are we going to talk about the dog every time it starts getting personal?”
She had a good mind to ask him to leave. He was smart-mouthed and intrusive. Instead, she stirred a little more sugar into her already sweet tea. “I was married for thirty years. He was killed two years ago. I guess I’m used to people knowing everything about me. I don’t like to dredge up the past.”
“Fair enough. We won’t dredge. How about showing me around your beautiful home?”
She took him on a quick tour. Now that they’d eaten, she was nervous. He made her uncomfortably aware of herself. What did he want from her anyway? She was seven years older than him. He had to realize it. Part of her wished he’d leave and she’d never see him again. The other part of her wanted so much more.
Most of the twenty-five rooms in the house weren’t being used. She pointed out her bedroom, glad the door was closed, then hustled him down the main staircase. “I have my laboratory in the basement.”
“Like Frankenstein?”
She laughed. “I suppose so.”
“Would we have to start talking about the dog again if I ask to see it?”
“No. I take people down there all the time.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Yes. But do they ever come back?”
She couldn’t resist spending a few more minutes with him. He was as enthusiastic about her plants as she could’ve wanted him to be. He asked questions and paid attention, even when she described her work as “natural selection or genetic modification that remains within the natural bounds of cross-pollination.”
She realized she was rambling beyond what a layman could grasp and started talking about her night-blooming rose. She showed him the water lily, pleased when he bent his head and smelled it. Even more so when his tie dangled in the water, and he didn’t make a fuss. The lights gleamed on his dark hair.
“You know, I was surprised to see you here.” She tried to make normal conversation, worried he’d think she was all compost and hybridization. “How did you know where I live?”
“It wasn’t too hard.” He looked at a big red hibiscus. “I knew your name. You’re listed in the phone book, address and all. Why? Did you think I was secretly an FBI agent?”
“No. Of course not! Just wondering. I’m incurably suspicious.”
“You probably should be.” He smiled at her in a way that made her skin tingle. “You live alone. Someone could take advantage of you.”
Peggy led the way back upstairs to the foyer. Steve marveled again at the size of the tree. “You do decorate it for Christmas, don’t you?”
“I have in the past,” she answered. “Not the last two years, since . . .”
“Your husband died?” he guessed.
“Yes.” She lifted her head. He might as well know the worst of it. “I didn’t want to do it without him.”
“I think that’s understandable.” He nodded as he walked around the tree again. “But if you decide to do it this year, I’ll be glad to give you a hand.”
“Thanks.” She hesitated, wanting to ask him to stay for more tea. Feeling she should let him leave right away. More confused than she’d been since she was a teenager. “Can I ask when I can pick up the dog without you making a big deal out of it?”
“Of course.” He slipped his arms into his jacket. “I wanted to keep him overnight to be sure he was okay. You can pick him up tomorrow. Or I can bring him by.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to do that. I’ll pick him up. Thanks.”
“That’s fine. I’ll try to have your bill ready. Or you could make me dinner again.”
Peggy picked a spot on the wall and stared across his shoulder. It helped not to look into his gorgeous eyes. Why did she think he was so ordinary? “I think I should pay you. You are a professional. And you’re in business to make money.”
He took a step closer to her. “I’m also a man who’d like to spend more time with you, Peggy. If we can get past talking about the dog. Or not. Either way, I’d like to see you again.”
She could hardly breathe. Her voice squeaked when she replied, “I’d like that, too.”
“Great. We’ll work with that.” He put his hand on her arm and lightly kissed her cheek. “Good night, Peggy.”
“Good night, Steve.”
She rested her head against the door after it closed behind him. She was as light-headed and weak-kneed as she’d been when she found Mark Warner’s body. “I guess that says it all!”
Her answer was to bury herself in her work. The phone rang while she was grafting some of her water lily to her rose, humming “Till There Was You” from The Music Man. Not wanting to put it down, she let the machine get it. It was Paul. She hastily set the sample down and grabbed the phone.
“Mom? Are you all right? You sound kind of breathless. Have you been running?”
“Just to answer the phone. I was in the middle of an experiment.”
“I’m calling because Clarice Weldon tracked me down. She said there was a strange man going into the house with you, and she was worried. She thought I should know.”
Peggy took a deep breath and said a little prayer for patience. “I appreciate the phone call. But you know Clarice! She wasn’t really worried, just nosy.”
“Who was he?”
“Are you nosy, too?”
“Mrs. Weldon was looking out for you. I asked her to keep an eye on things since I can’t be over there as much as I’d like. You’re not exactly a teenager anymore, Mom. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Don’t worry about it, Paul. I’m fine. The man Clarice saw is a veterinarian. He’s taking care of my dog.”
“When did you get a dog? You don’t even like dogs!”
Peggy didn’t want to answer that question. She didn’t even know the answer. A timer went off behind her. It seemed like a good excuse. “Gotta go, sweetie! Call me, and we’ll have lunch without Clarice!”
Paul complained but finally said good-bye.
Peggy hung up and went back to work. She thought about her son for a long time, wondering how she could mend their relationship. He didn’t think she understood about his need to find John’s killer. But she empathized all too well. She just didn’t want to lose Paul, too.
BY MIDNIGHT, HER BACK WAS killing her from leaning over the pond. Exhausted but satisfied with the progress of her project, she dragged herself upstairs to shower and change. A thin trail of water and dirt followed her up the wide marble stairs. She pretended not to notice. It would still be there tomorrow for her to clean.
Afterward, she sat down in front of her computer monitor for a game of chess. She’d been playing on-line with various people from around the world for about a year. She never knew their real names, only the names they logged on with. It was exciting to play masters of the game, pitting her skill against people she wouldn’t have met except for the Internet.
Tonight, she was playing against a new opponent. His screen name was Nightflyer. She was white and took the first move. Pawn to f4.
“Good evening, Nightrose.”
She read the words in the chat box and responded to her screen name. “Hi there.”
Black pawn slid to e5. “You’re taking some time out to relax tonight.”
Peggy studied her next move. “I try to be here at least a few times a week.” She moved forward. White pawn takes black pawn on e5.
Black pawn moves to d6.
The game progressed. Peggy gave as good as she got. The two players were well matched.
“About that poisoning in Columbia . . .”
Nightrose’s white knight moved to f3. Peggy realized what was in the chat box after she made her move. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Black queen takes white pawn on g3 and checks white king. “The young woman succumbed about an hour ago.”
Peggy watched the black queen put her king in check. But she was too astounded by the chat to think about her next move. “How do you know about that? Are you Dr. Samson?” White pawn takes black queen on g3.
A smiley face appeared in the chat box. “Are you sure about that move?”
“Are you Dr. Samson?”
Black bishop takes white pawn on g3. “Checkmate. You’re not playing well tonight, dear.”
“Who are you? You’re not Dr. Samson.”
“You’re right. Care to try again?”
Before she could reply, the phone rang, startling her away from the computer.
It was Hal Samson. “I’m sorry to call so late, Peggy. But I thought you’d want to know. My patient died about an hour ago. The police are involved now. They believe the husband might be responsible for the poisoning.”
“Were you on-line playing chess a few minutes ago?” It sounded ridiculous, but she had to know.
“No. I’ve been with the girl’s parents since it happened. I would’ve called you right away except for that. Why do you ask?”
Peggy looked at the computer screen. Nightflyer had left the game room. It couldn’t be a coincidence. “I’m sorry, Hal. Her chances of recovery were slim. I assume there’ll be an autopsy.”
“There will. I’ll be happy to send you the results, if you’re interested.”
“Thanks. Maybe we can learn something from her death.” She paused, reluctant to open the subject again, but she couldn’t help it. She had to know. “Was there anyone else involved with the case who knew you approached me about it?”
“No. I didn’t see any reason to tell anyone else. Why? Is something wrong?”
She told him what happened during her chess game. It seemed significant to her.
He didn’t think so. “It was probably someone who knows your screen name, Peggy. If they know you at all, they know you work with poisons. That’s not much of a coincidence to me.”
“You’re probably right,” she acknowledged. “I shouldn’t be up playing chess with strangers in the middle of the night anyway.”
“If you’re not sleeping, I could get you a prescription for that,” he offered. “Not getting enough sleep is bad for the nervous system.”
“Thanks anyway, Hal. I’ll be fine. I don’t envy you having to deal with people’s loved ones after such a tragic death. Please keep in touch.”
Peggy hung up the phone and logged back in for another chess game. There were several immediate answers to her challenge. But none of them were Nightflyer. She realized she’d never seen that name before.
Hal was probably right about turning off the computer and going to bed. But a cold chill slid down her spine, and she stayed up for a few more hours. The event haunted he
r. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she knew who Nightflyer really was.
PEGGY WAS AT THE Potting Shed the next morning when Mai called from the precinct. She wasn’t officially open on the weekend, but a few good customers needed to come in for supplies now and then. It gave her a chance to do some straightening up and check the inventory for Christmas. Unlike most retail establishments, her garden shop had to get through fall before plunging into the holidays. Seasons were important to gardeners.
“Peggy, I just found out!” Mai told her. “They picked up Mr. Cheever last night. They’re letting him sleep it off in a cell before they question him. But he had Mark Warner’s personal possessions. It doesn’t look good for him.”
