Pretty Poison plgm-1

by Joyce Lavene

Peggy patted her hand. “Only if you’ll take Paul. He and I have the same problem. But you know what it’s like trying to live your own life, not just doing what your parents expect of you.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know if I can remember back that far. Mama and Daddy have been gone for so long. You’re lucky to still have your parents.”

  “Sometimes I’m not so sure about that.” Peggy stopped when she saw the horrified expression on Lenore’s face. She sometimes forgot that her old friend didn’t share her sense of the ironic. “Never mind about that. I’ll go and talk to Keeley. But you have to talk to her, too.”

  “After you see her, I will,” Lenore promised. “Thank you, Peggy. I’ll think of something to say to her.”

  “Something that doesn’t sound like Bible scripture thundering down from Reverend Jacob’s pulpit, I hope.”

  Lenore smiled. “He was loud, wasn’t he? I still remember how many times I was about to drift off, and he started shouting. Mama used to say it was enough to scare the devil right out of the county.”

  “But not what a young woman wants to hear from her mother after a thing like this.”

  “I know. Don’t scold. You live in their world, Peggy. You have to expect the rest of us to be a little shocked by it. The idea that my daughter was with a man before she was married is still hard for me.”

  “She’s twenty-one years old,” Peggy reminded her. “Just remember that you love each other.”

  KEELEY WAS SITTING UP in bed when Peggy entered the room. She’d known the girl all of her life. She held Lenore’s hand when Keeley fell off of her bike and got a concussion at twelve. She took care of her many times when her parents went away on business. Now she looked at her and felt a little like her mother. She wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I suppose Mom sent you in here because she couldn’t face me,” Keeley guessed.

  Peggy hugged her. “How are you? The doctor said you’re fine, but he can’t see the important part of you.”

  Keeley looked up at her. “Which part is that?”

  “Your heart. I know it must be aching.”

  “It was a stupid mistake, Peggy. I probably would’ve gotten rid of it anyway. It wasn’t anything yet. Just some tissue.”

  “But you didn’t. And you can’t convince me that you didn’t know about it from the beginning. You’re too smart for that. Did you think he wanted the baby?”

  “Yes.” Keeley’s bottom lip quivered. “I thought he loved me. How could I be so stupid?”

  Peggy put her arms around her again. “Because you loved him. You wanted what everyone wants. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re not stupid for falling in love and believing someone loved you in return.”

  Tears ran silently down Keeley’s pretty face. “Even if he was married?”

  “Please don’t tell me—”

  “It was Mark. I’m the one he was meeting at the Potting Shed. I was probably the last person to see him alive.”

  Peggy didn’t want to believe it. “Have you told anyone else?”

  “No. I told the doctor I didn’t know who the father was. I didn’t go to the police yet to give them my fingerprints because I was scared they’d find out.”

  “Tell me everything about that night.” Peggy put her pocketbook on the side table and sat down close to Keeley. “Don’t leave anything out.”

  The story poured out of her in low, uncertain tones. She met Mark at Bank of America while she was working with the plants. He asked her out for lunch, then for dinner. After a week of expensive restaurants and gifts, Keeley met him at the Omni Hotel. They went there a couple of nights every week for the past three months.

  “He was funny, you know?” Keeley wiped the tears from her face. “He knew how to have a good time. I liked being with him. Then he called me one day and said it was over. I knew I was pregnant. He started coming to the shop at lunchtime with that other woman. I think he was trying to show me that he didn’t care about me anymore.”

  “But he agreed to meet you one last time,” Peggy surmised. “You told him you were pregnant.”

  “Yes. I thought it would make a difference to him.” She laughed. “He offered me money to get an abortion. He said he wouldn’t leave his wife.”

  “So you met him at the shop that night, let him in, and argued with him about the baby. Then what?”

  “I guess I got a little hysterical. He was drunk anyway. Slurring his words and unsteady on his feet. I didn’t want to talk to him anymore, so I ran out. He was still alive when I left. When I got home, my key was gone. I thought I left it in the back door, but I must’ve dropped it in back.” She gripped Peggy’s hand. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I was so afraid everyone would think I killed him.”

  “Did you kill him, Keeley? You were upset. You weren’t thinking about what you were doing. The shovel was handy.”

  “No! I didn’t kill him. I can’t believe you even have to ask me that question!”

  “I’m sorry, honey.” Peggy hugged her. “But the police will ask you more than that.”

  “Why do I have to tell them? I didn’t kill him. Maybe Homer did.”

  Peggy stood up straight. “Let’s stop thinking of him as a cartoon character. His name is Joseph, not Homer. He’s in jail, and he’ll probably go to prison for a crime he didn’t commit either. You have to tell the police what happened.”

  “How will that help Mr. Cheever? It’ll only make me a suspect. Then he won’t be in jail, I will. Is that what you want?”

  “Of course not. But someone killed Mark. If nothing else, your recollections of that night could cause the DA to question what happened.”

  “But if it wasn’t me and it wasn’t Mr. Cheever, who did it?” Keeley asked. “Who else was at the shop that night?”

  8

  Holly

  Botanical: Ilex aquifolium, Ilex opaca Family: Aquifoliaceae

  Common Name: Christmas holly

  The word holly comes from the word holy. Holly has always been associated with Christmas. There are over 150 species of holly. English holly (Ilex aquifolium) and American holly (Ilex opaca) are the species most commonly grown as Christmas decorations. The American holly has duller leaves and more spines than the English holly. Holly berries are potentially dangerous if eaten. Twenty berries can kill an adult human.

  HUNTER CALLED FROM THE COURTHOUSE as Peggy was leaving the hospital. “Mr. Cheever was held over for trial. No bond. The DA made it sound like he was a risk to himself and others. I couldn’t exactly claim a homeless man had strong ties to the community.”

  “What happens next?”

  “Without a lot of fancy footwork to prove the case, the trial should come up pretty quickly. Maybe right after the beginning of the year. The forensic evidence is all in their favor. They found him with Warner’s possessions. He admits he took them and said Warner was on the floor ‘asleep.’ His fingerprints are all over everything. Mr. Cheever doesn’t remember what happened. I won’t even be able to use him on the witness stand. He’s his own worst enemy.”

  Peggy stood next to a badly pruned holly bush. It was cut back so far, there were no red berries on it. For some reason, the one beside it wasn’t pruned to within an inch of its life. It had mounds of berries. It reminded her of all the possible suspects popping up in Mark’s death. “Suppose you could show it was possible someone else was responsible for the murder?”

  “That would be fine.” Hunter’s voice faded in and out on the cell phone. “Creating reasonable doubt in the minds of the jury is the only thing that’s going to save your friend. I have to tell you, I pleaded not guilty for him today. But I think we should be going for diminished capacity. He’s not all there. I don’t know if it’s drinking or something else. They kept him at the hospital for more tests. The doctor thinks it’s possible he had a stroke.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Not really. Unless you have some evidence that can create reasonable doubt.”

  Peggy co
nsidered her words carefully. “I might have some evidence. I don’t know exactly what to do with it. Can you meet me somewhere?”

  THEY MET AT the Potting Shed at six when it closed. Peggy was straightening up when Hunter walked in. She’d already sent Selena home. She didn’t want anyone else to hear what she had to say.

  “This is where it happened, huh?” Hunter put down her briefcase and looked around the shop. “I recognize this area from the police photos. Warner was on the floor in the middle of your autumn collage.”

  “That’s right. Some other facts have come up since then.” Peggy took out two cream cheese and sprout bagels, handing one to Hunter.

  “Thanks. Have you told the police?”

  “I wanted to tell you first. The police don’t seem too interested in anything but Mr. Cheever anyway.”

  Hunter unwrapped her bagel. “Tell me what you know, and we’ll see.”

  Peggy told her what she knew about Ronda McGee, Angela Martin, and Keeley as she poured them each a cup of lemon balm tea. “I can’t believe Keeley was involved with him. I promised her mother no one else would know unless it was absolutely necessary.”

  “I guess that depends on how you gauge something being necessary.” Hunter sipped her tea. “The DA could ask for the death penalty. I think it’s unlikely, given Mr. Cheever’s current state. But the best scenario possible puts him in a hospital for the rest of his life. That seems pretty necessary to me.”

  “I know. But what good will it do to shift the burden of guilt from one innocent person to another?”

  “Are you sure she’s innocent?”

  Peggy wiped her lips with her napkin. “I’ve known her since she was born. She did something stupid, but I don’t believe she killed Mark. She loved him and thought he was going to marry her. I wouldn’t want to see her on trial for the murder any more than I want to see Mr. Cheever there. There must be another way.”

  “What about the other women?” Hunter wiped cream cheese from her hand. “Angela and Ronda. Do they have alibis for that night? Isn’t it possible one of them could be guilty?”

  “I don’t know about Ronda,” Peggy admitted. “Angela said she was in all night by herself. Not much of an alibi, but she didn’t have a motive to kill him either.”

  Hunter considered the prospects as she polished off the rest of her bagel and some cookies that Peggy brought from the Tea and Coffee Emporium. “We could hire a private investigator to find out everything about Warner’s relationships with these women. Even if we don’t find anything that proves one of them was responsible, I could use the possibility of their guilt to show the jury Cheever wasn’t the only one who had access and motive for the crime. I could use Keeley as a last resort if the other two don’t work.”

  “I’m afraid a private investigator is out of my price range,” Peggy admitted. “Maybe I could keep looking around and asking questions. You said we have a while before the trial. If it gets too close and I don’t find anything, I could turn everything over to an investigator.”

  “I guess that’s okay. I spoke with Cheever’s daughter after the arraignment. She doesn’t have much money either. I wish the court would’ve appointed me, then the state would pay for Cheever’s defense.”

  Peggy laughed. “Like that would’ve paid for a private detective! Don’t worry. I’m sure we can work this out. I’m glad you’re on our team.”

  “Let me know what you find out,” Hunter said. “And don’t go too far. You don’t want the police coming after you.”

  Peggy agreed, and Hunter left a few minutes later. After the other woman was gone, she turned out the lights and locked the front door. The dog let out a long, low howl that sent goose bumps down her spine. “What’s wrong, boy? Are you ready to go home?”

  He came over and snuffled her hand. She wiped the dog slobber on a rag, then picked up his leash and led him out the back door. After she locked up, he growled low in the back of his throat and came to full attention, staring into the shadows that surrounded the loading dock.

  “Do you see a rat or something?” Peggy asked loudly to deal with her sudden sense of fear. It was silly. She’d never been afraid walking out behind the shop before. Of course, she’d never had a dead man in her shop before either. She patted the dog’s head and quickly pulled out her bicycle. “Let’s go home. We’ve both had a rough day.”

  The dog wouldn’t move. He stood like a statue, growling and glaring at the dark end of the loading dock. Peggy wasn’t scared of shadows or things that went bump in the night. But the dog’s fierce expression and challenging stance made her nervous. She finally got him to walk away and got on her bike. It was a relief to be away from the area. She was going to have to hound the maintenance people until they got that back light replaced.

  As she turned out of the drive into the street, she thought she saw a small light, like a flashlight, at the top of the loading dock. When she looked again, it was completely dark behind the shop. The dog whined when she stopped as she tried to decide what to do.

  She started to go back, then reasoned with herself; if she thought someone was back there, she’d be better off calling the police and letting them handle it. What would be the point of her checking it out? It wasn’t like she was up to tackling a would-be thief.

  Taking out her cell phone, she started to dial 911. Uncertainty stayed her hand. Unless she had something more to say than she thought she saw a flashlight, she didn’t want to call. If she started calling the police every time there was an unusual sound or the dog growled, she’d be in a mess. She stayed where she was and watched the shadows as cars passed her in the street. There was no sign of the light again.

  Sighing at her flights of fancy, taking a deep breath to clear her mind, she urged the dog toward home. It had been a strange week. No wonder she was quick to panic. Once she got home and had a nice cup of tea, she’d feel better.

  A car she didn’t recognize was waiting in her drive when she got home. She parked her bike beside the house. A man opened the car door and got out. “Peggy Lee?”

  Her heart was beating fast and her knees were wobbly. “Yes?”

  Paper rustled. “I saw your flyer. I think you might have my dog.”

  Peggy gave a sigh of relief. “You startled me. I wasn’t expecting someone to come to the house.”

  The young man moved into the streetlight and frowned at her. “I’m sorry. I looked up the phone number on the flyer. I live about a block from here. I couldn’t wait to come and take Jo-Jo home.”

  The dog whined and barked at the man. She patted his head and soothed him. “He seems to know you.”

  “Sure he does.” He clapped his hands together. “Come on, Jo! Let’s go home!”

  But the dog backed away from him. He looked up at Peggy and whined, butting his huge head against her leg.

  “He seems to know you,” she amended. “But he doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

  “That’s ridiculous! I paid a fortune for that dog. He’s damn well coming home with me.”

  Peggy stood between the man and the cowering dog. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll have to ask you to leave now.”

  “Not without my dog.” He reached his hand for the leash.

  The dog lunged at him, barking and growling like he’d take his hand off. Jo-Jo chased his owner back to the car and put his massive paws on the window even after the man was inside. His teeth grated against the glass as he tried to get at him.

  “That’s enough.” Peggy called him back.

  “I’ll be here tomorrow with my lawyer,” the man promised when the dog went back to her.

  She ignored the car leaving the drive and turned to the dog. “Let’s go inside. It looks like we have some thinking to do.”

  The phone was ringing. She closed the door and locked it, took the leash off of the dog. He immediately fell on the floor at her feet as she answered the phone. She wanted to collapse there, too. Her life had taken on a weird, frantic aspect that didn
’t want to go away.

  “Hi Peggy. Hal Samson. I wanted to let you know what’s happened. The police decided not to press charges against the husband. There was no proof he was involved in his wife’s death. They aren’t sure where to go from here.”

  She took off her gloves and sat down on the bench by the door. “I’m glad for the husband if he was innocent, but that still doesn’t answer the question of how the poisoning happened, does it? She was murdered, Hal. They can’t want to overlook that fact.”

  “They don’t. But apparently, there’s no reason to suspect the husband beyond the obvious. I talked with the detective tonight. They’re going to continue to investigate. But they’re stymied right now, and that puts the case on the back burner. It seems murder by poison doesn’t happen often in Columbia.”