by Joyce Lavene
“I’m really going to push Dad to come home with me again, if he gets out,” Jane interrupted the silence. “This wouldn’t have happened if he’d been at home where he belongs.”
Hunter and Peggy agreed with her. The conversation picked up involving elderly relatives and their care. None of them mentioned the trial again.
“Well, I have to go.” Hunter glanced at her watch. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything new. I assume you’ll do the same.”
“I will,” Peggy promised. “Thanks again for taking the case.”
Jane lingered a little longer, talking about the way her father was when she was a child. “It’s terrible to see this stranger. I don’t know what to do about it. He doesn’t think rationally, but he’s not a child. I can’t send him to his room.”
“He’s one of the most rational men I’ve ever met,” Peggy disagreed. “I don’t understand why he prefers to live on the street. But it’s certainly not because he’s a half-wit.”
“You think it’s me, don’t you?” Jane wrung her hands.
Peggy squeezed her arm. “Of course not! It’s him. Something inside of him won’t let him rest. I wish I understood it more, and I could help. But it’s not anything you’ve done.”
Jane thanked her, then gathered up her belongings. “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know, too, if you hear anything.”
“I will.” Peggy smiled as she watched the younger woman leave the café. Talking to her made her think about her relationship with Paul. How much was there between them that neither of them understood?
“Your friends eat like rabbits,” Anthony told her with a laugh. “Next time bring somebody with an appetite!”
Peggy promised she would and thanked him for lunch. She walked back to the Potting Shed, for once glad to see her customers had thinned out. She sent Keeley home when she saw how tired she looked and had Selena wait to leave until she could take Shakespeare for a short walk.
“You think Keeley’s okay?” Selena asked her when she got back.
“I think she’ll be fine,” Peggy answered. “She needs time to get her strength back. Losing a pregnancy isn’t only the physical aspect. It’s the emotional one as well.”
“I can’t believe she was pregnant! Especially with that old guy’s baby. What was she thinking?”
“That he wasn’t all that old?”
Selena ducked her head. “I guess I should go before I say anything else stupid. See you later, Shakespeare. Bye, Peggy.”
When Selena was gone and the shop was empty, Peggy called in her monthly plant order. She included some poinsettias for Christmas as well as a large supply of paper-white narcissus. Besides some decorations and a few gift ideas for gardeners, it was the only consideration she gave the holiday season. Christmas wasn’t as big for her as for some other retailers.
Feeling accomplished when the order was in, she sat down behind the counter and put her leg up on a basket. Her knee was feeling a little better, but she might have to give some thought to a few sessions of physical therapy, as the doctor suggested. It was still a little stiff, and she didn’t want to give up riding her bike.
She picked up the newspaper and glanced through it, checking out competitors’ ads as well as some news stories. A short mention in the society page caught her attention. Ronda McGee had filed for divorce yesterday. Peggy’s eyes narrowed and lost focus as she considered what that could mean. It might not have anything to do with Mark’s death. But on the other hand . . .
Before she could consider her actions, she looked up the address of the McGee household on the computer. She could empathize, take Ronda some tea and a plant. It was the least she could do. They were passing acquaintances anyway. After her thoughts that morning about Bob McGee, she had to know what happened. The best way was to go to the source.
She waited impatiently for the hands on the big clock to swing to six. A few customers straggled out of the dark courtyard and purchased some bulbs and a few planters. Peggy talked to them about their needs and explained what they had to do to see their plants flourish. All the while she kept glancing at the clock. Impatience made her edgy. She called for a taxi at 5:40 and started shutting down the shop.
The new lights by the loading dock made the whole area bright again. The maintenance crew finally installed them that day after the furnace was repaired. As predicted, no shadows lingered. Satisfied, she shut off the back lights and locked the door. At the same time, she heard the front door open and close. She should’ve locked it.
Smile fastened firmly in place, even though her heart was pounding, she turned to greet what she determined was going to be her last customer of the day.
“Am I too late? I suppose I should’ve called.” Steve waited by the counter for her. “I finished with a patient and thought about surprising you with a ride home. Surprise!”
Peggy didn’t know what to say. “That was . . . thoughtful of you. But I already called for a taxi.”
“You can cancel it. We can go out for dinner, and I’ll take you home.” He studied her face. “Unless you had other plans.”
“Not exactly. There’s this one thing I need to do. . . .”
“Great! You close up; I’ll cancel the taxi.” He picked up the phone. “Which company did you call?”
“It might be best if you don’t come with me,” she suggested, trying not to hurt his feelings.
“What is it? Are you meeting someone else?”
“Not the way you make it sound,” she said. “It’s something else about the Warner murder. You might not want to get involved.”
“I’m already involved. I went to the Warners’ with you, and I ate pancakes at your house with all your police friends. What are you going to do? Break into a building? Meet an informant in a dark alley?”
She laughed at him. “I did that last night. Tonight, I’m going to see Ronda McGee to see if it’s possible her husband might be involved. You’re welcome to come along. But you’ll have to wait in the car. I don’t think she’ll be as open with a man since she lost her lover and now she’s divorcing her husband.”
“I wouldn’t want to be there either,” he agreed. “I can be Kato. You can be the Green Hornet tonight. Are we grilling the suspect before or after dinner?”
“Before. I thought it might be better on an empty stomach.” She watched him pick up the phone and cancel the taxi. He was definitely a man after her own heart. “Come on, Shakespeare. Let’s go!”
RONDA AND BOB MC GEE’S HOME was a two-story Tudor set within an elaborately fenced yard on Providence Road near Myers Park. The wrought-iron gates were open when Peggy and Steve arrived. It looked like every interior and exterior light was turned on. As Steve started to turn into the drive, a fast-moving gray Jaguar squealed past them and into the street.
“Do you think that was the suspect, and he got tipped you were coming?” Steve asked as he pulled through the gate.
“It’s possible,” she quipped. “My reputation may have preceded me.”
“Or he heard you had a big dog.”
She opened the car door. “Stay!” Shakespeare subsided with a groan. “Have a good time, you two. I’ll be out as soon as I can.”
“I’ll be practicing my karate moves.”
Peggy rang the doorbell and waited, juggling her gifts of angelica and lemon balm tea. The dried leaves from the plant made a lovely sachet to relieve stress and insomnia. The lemon balm tea tasted good and was soothing. Ronda’s housekeeper opened the door, looking frazzled. Without a word, she walked back into the house, leaving the door open. Not sure what to do, Peggy followed her.
Ronda was in what looked like the library. Huge, oak shelves lined the walls surrounding a stone fireplace. The room was a wreck, books and other articles strewn everywhere. The desk looked like it had been looted. Papers and computer parts were scattered across the top.
“Hello, Ronda.” Peggy approached her. “I heard about what happened. I wanted to offer my condolences.”
“Maybe it was better for him to leave right now.” Peggy put the plant and tea on the desk. “What happened?”
Ronda collapsed in one of the high-backed chairs. “I don’t know. I had a feeling something was going on. Then he went out of town for another business meeting. They usually cover for each other. I don’t know what went wrong. But I found out he was with her.”
“Who is she?” Peggy sat down opposite her.
“A secretary. Not even his secretary. Some young twit they hired. She looks like she’s sixteen. I caught them out at our house on Lake Norman. He had her in our bed. Can you believe it?”
“It was certainly brazen of him.”
Ronda laughed. “I’ll say. I mean, it’s not like I expected him to be faithful. These things happen. But not in your own house. That’s too much.”
“So you kicked him out.”
“You bet your ass I did! He can have his little bimbo, but he’s going to pay for it. It’s not like this is the first time either. That night Mark was killed, Bob was out of town. He wasn’t working. He was with her that night, too. I had a private detective following him. I have pictures. He’s going to pay big time. This may be a no-fault state, but my lawyer says adultery means major property settlement. By the time I get done with him, he and that little slut will have to live in the Tryon Arms!”
Peggy sighed. That brought down her theory about Bob McGee being involved in Mark’s murder. It was a long shot anyway. She didn’t mention to Ronda that she’d been doing the same thing to Bob. Obviously, in her mind, infidelity had its rules. Bob crossed over them.
As if Ronda suddenly noticed Peggy was there, she wiped her face with a tissue and combed her hair back with her fingers. “I know you didn’t come to hear all of this. Did you have something you needed to ask me about Mark?”
Thinking quickly, Peggy answered, “Yes. I was wondering how many people knew about Mark’s allergy to alcohol.”
“Not many people. Mark felt like it made him seem old. He’d pretend to drink to keep up appearances.”
“And he never drank liquor?”
“Not that I know of,” Ronda replied. “I read the old guy who killed him had a stroke. I guess it was bad luck all the way around. Even for Julie, that spiteful little bitch.”
“I’d say especially for Julie, since she lost her husband,” Peggy said, not feeling particularly sympathetic toward Ronda.
“You know, the rest of us knew how the game was played. I always knew Bob fooled around. He knew I fooled around. We respected the limits. Julie never got that. She felt like Mark was her own personal property. How realistic is that?”
“You mean Julie never cheated on Mark?”
“Never! Mark was the one and only man for her. We laughed at her behind her back. That kind of marriage is so yesterday. She was nasty about it, too. I really believe she was the one who called and threatened me about seeing Mark. If you could’ve seen the look in her eyes when I passed her that night leaving Mark’s office. If looks could kill, as my mama always said, I’d be stone dead.”
Peggy thanked her and showed herself out of the house. It was easier for her to understand Julie’s point of view on not sharing her husband with other women. She wasn’t sure what she would’ve done if she’d found out John was cheating on her. Maybe Ronda considered jealousy a thing of the past. But clearly the controlled infidelity she believed in didn’t always work either.
She got back in the car with Steve and Shakespeare. The lights that shone on the house picked up the crystals of ice forming in the drops of water as the sprinkler system rained on the yard. It was almost a fairy-tale setting in the beautifully manicured park that surrounded the McGees’ unhappy home.
“Did you get what you were looking for?” Steve pushed the dog into the backseat.
“Yes and no.” She closed the door and put on her seat belt. “Bob McGee was with his lover the night Mark was killed. Ronda has proof of it. Since they were both unfaithful, it would hardly follow that Bob would kill Mark over his wife anyway. That theory is useless.”
Steve started the Saturn. “I’m sure you’ll think of something else. Someone killed him. If you don’t believe it was either one of your friends, the truth about who was responsible will have to surface at some point.”
“We have some extra time anyway.” She told him about the postponement of the trial. “I guess it’s just as well. This is taking a while.”
“While we’re waiting, how about dinner? I know this great place for frozen potpies.”
Peggy laughed as she patted Shakespeare’s head. “Sounds like my kind of place.”
WHILE THE POTPIES WERE cooking, Steve showed Peggy around his house. It was very much the same style as her own but on a smaller scale. He was in the midst of remodeling, tearing out the old carpet to reveal the beautiful patina of the old heart-of-pine floors and replacing the worn drapes at the big windows.
“I plan on operating my private practice from here,” he told her, flicking on the overhead fluorescent light in a front area of the house. “My uncle did pretty well here. Business is starting to come in for me, too.”
She looked around the white and silver exam room, investigating the medical instruments he used. “You must really love animals to want to work with them all the time.”
“I guess I could say the same thing about you and plants.” He smiled. “And kids, for that matter. Animals have to be better than college students.”
“Sometimes there’s not much difference,” she agreed. “I think you’ll do well here.”
He crossed the room deliberately and put his arms around her. “You do, do you?”
Peggy stifled the frantic impulse to be embarrassed at his casual embrace. She smiled up at him. “Yes, I do.”
He kissed her lips lightly, and the oven timer buzzed. “It’s always something. But don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. We have plenty of time.”
“Thanks. Those potpies smell delicious!”
They ate their potpies with an Aussie 2001 Annvers Shiraz from Steve’s uncle’s wine cellar. The conversation was intimate as they tried to learn more about each other. Peggy laughed and enjoyed herself more than she had in a long time. Shakespeare rolled over on his back by the kitchen door and looked totally at ease.
It was nine before she looked up at the clock. “I hate it, but I have to go. I have tests to grade for tomorrow.”
Steve laced his fingers through hers. “Why do you work so hard to stay busy? It seems like the garden shop would be enough.”
It was difficult to explain how empty her life was after John died. It wasn’t something she was willing to try to put into words. Not yet. “I like to be busy. And the kids keep me on my toes. I was worried about the Potting Shed making it to begin with. Then I just enjoyed having something to do.”
He nodded and smiled at her in a way that made her feel he understood some of what she didn’t explain. The kitchen was quiet around them as they sat together at the table. It was a good, pleasurable silence that drew them together, giving them a few moments of tranquillity from the outside world.
The peace was shattered when Peggy’s cell phone rang. She apologized to Steve but answered when she saw the number that came up. “What is it, Mai?”
“I’ve got the results of the tox screen, Peggy. You aren’t going to believe this.”
13
Hyacinth
Botanical: Muscari racemosum
Family: N. O. Liliaceae
Common Names: Common hyacinth, garden hyacinth
Hyacinthus was Apollo’s favorite companion. Zephyr, the west wind, was jealous of the boy’s youth and beauty. When Apollo took up the discus and threw it, Zephyr blew the discus over and hit Hyacinthus in the head. When he died, his blood turned into a flower. Apollo put his friend’s body into the heavens as a constellation
. The legend stands, though the flower is not native to Greece.
MAI WOULD ONLY AGREE to meet her at the Waffle House off of Interstate 85.
Peggy wasn’t sure why the younger woman considered the Waffle House a safe place to meet, but she agreed. She took Steve with her since she needed a ride, and taxis were hard to find at night. They dropped Shakespeare off at her house after he had a short romp in the yard.
Mai was waiting in the parking lot when they pulled up. She stared at Steve, then pulled Peggy aside and hissed, “He shouldn’t be here. This is too important!”
“He pretty much knows everything about the case,” Peggy assured her. “He’s okay. I trust him.”
