Poisoned Petals

by Joyce; Jim Lavene

  Holles and the funeral director met them at the back door to the chapel. Holles smiled in a grim, thoughtful way while the director explained to Peggy where she’d be sitting and when he’d ask her to speak. Holles nodded to Steve and Paul when the director asked them to go in the front door and find a seat while he took her in through the back of the chapel.

  When she realized she was going to be alone with Holles again, even for a brief time, Peggy got a little nervous. Then she realized the funeral director, the UNCC chancellor, and the head of the Council of Churches would all be sitting with them beside Darmus’s elaborate coffin. Not that they were necessary. She’d included another letter opener and a can of mace in her pocketbook. Let him try something now!

  The enormity of what she had to do almost overwhelmed her when she saw the choir from Darmus’s church on the other side of the huge chapel. The room was filled to capacity. She could see Steve and her family sitting near the front door. The mayor was seated beside most of the city council. The governor was near one of the local state representatives, their heads close together.

  The scent of thousands of flowers assailed her nose. Chrysanthemums, roses, white lilies, orchids. There was a net of white roses covering the top of the coffin, and huge pots of corn plants with the Feed America banner across them at either end.

  Peggy looked at the men beside her who would also be speaking at the memorial service. Then she saw Naomi sitting in the front row. The girl gave a hesitant wave, then smiled.

  It bolstered Peggy’s confidence, seeing that timid smile. She searched the crowd for Al’s familiar face but couldn’t find him anywhere. He was scheduled to be a pallbearer. He had to be in the group assembled there.

  All three local TV stations had cameramen stationed near the front entrance. Peggy felt a fine sheen of perspiration forming on her forehead at the edge of her hat. She wished she could take it off and fan herself with it, but the occasion was too formal, too solemn. The handkerchief she’d used at the funeral home for her crocodile tears was still in her pocketbook. She took it out and dabbed at her forehead.

  “Are you all right?” Holles whispered near her ear.

  “I’m fine, thanks.”

  He reached over and squeezed her hand. “It will all be over soon.”

  As he spoke, the music came up, and the choir began to sing. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me, I once was lost, but now I’m found, was blind but now I see.”

  Peggy sat calmly, her hands folded in her lap, as the minister praised Darmus as a man of God and a man of the people. He told of his good works and his life of selflessness, his devotion to God and man. People bowed their heads and prayed as he prayed for Darmus’s immortal soul.

  Your turn, that little voice in her head whispered as the minister finished his lengthy eulogy.

  The minister introduced her, then turned with his hand held out and smiled. Peggy put away her handkerchief and got to her feet in one smooth movement. The words she had to speak flowed into her head like the lines of “Amazing Grace.” She was ready to tell the world the truth.

  The front door opened. Sunlight splashed the group in the chapel like the warmth of God, dappling the white walls and glittering on the bronze coffin. Peggy paused at the lectern, staring at the man in the doorway with the bright sunlight outlining his ragged clothes and wild hair.

  “Wait!” he yelled out.

  The crowd turned back to face him and whisper among themselves, wondering what was going on. Crowd control police moved closer to the door, talking quietly into their radios.

  “You can’t bury that man in my place! This whole thing is an elaborate farce!” the man in the doorway yelled out. “Oh God, I am Darmus Appleby!”

  10

  Cleome

  Botanical: Cleome serrulata

  Family: Asteraceae

  This wildflower was described by Lewis and Clark on their expedition. Often called spider flower, the plant is striking in appearance, drawing bees and butterflies. It is an annual but will reseed itself if the seeds fall on fertile ground.

  FOR ONE LONG MOMENT, no one moved. Then the reporters there to cover the funeral all seemed to jump to their feet at the same time as they realized the real story was the pathetic man in the doorway. Everyone got to their feet, stretching their necks, trying to see the man in the center of the chaos. Voices rose as police officers attempted to press back the crowd, and the governor was rushed out through a side door to the chapel.

  Peggy tried to get to Darmus. She fought her way through the crowd, reaching him as he dropped to his knees. Naomi was already there with him. She cradled his head on her lap when he collapsed, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” Peggy told her. “He’ll be fine now.” She was surprised to see the girl there. Was she feeling guilty for what she knew of Darmus’s plot with Luther?

  “Peggy!” Al reached them, yelling at officers to back the crowd up and call 911. “Did you know about this?”

  She glared at him. “If you ever checked your messages, you wouldn’t have to ask me that question!”

  “We have to get him to a hospital. Don’t go home! Meet me at the precinct. I know the captain is gonna have some questions for you!” Al waved to the paramedics, moving Naomi out of the way before he yelled at the young officers again. “Come on! Back up this crowd, will you? We need some room! Get everyone out of the chapel!”

  Peggy got out of the way. She tried to find Steve and her family in the jumble of people. She didn’t see them, but she saw Naomi rushing out the chapel. She followed her, hoping to have a chance to talk to the girl. But Naomi was already getting into a van waiting at the curb. The driver pulled out before Peggy could catch up with them.

  “Peggy!” She heard Steve call her name from across the stream of people exiting the chapel.

  She looked back at the old green Volkswagen that was carrying Naomi away. Whatever the girl was doing at the funeral service, it wasn’t to talk to her. She acted like the devil was after her.

  She finally managed to push across to where Steve and her family were waiting. “I have to go down to the precinct.”

  Paul groaned. “Please don’t tell me you knew Darmus was still alive.”

  She nodded. “All right. If it makes you feel better.”

  “Mom!”

  “Never mind. I don’t have time to argue with you about it, Paul.” She climbed into the van. “Steve, could you take us home?”

  Peggy didn’t offer any insight into what happened as the family discussed it on the way back to the house. She didn’t know what to say yet. She needed more information. Maybe now that it was all out in the open, she’d be able to figure out what really happened.

  “I want to go with you,” Steve said when they turned up Queens Road. “I know you can handle it, but—”

  “Please. You don’t have to sell yourself,” she told him. “I’d appreciate the support.”

  “Well, as long as we’re all dressed up, you might as well take us somewhere, Paul,” Lilla told her grandson as they reached the house. “Maybe we could go to another mall.”

  “Oh no,” Ranson groaned. “Not another mall!”

  Aunt Mayfield and Cousin Melvin liked that idea. They huffed out of the van when Steve parked in the drive and hurried toward Paul’s car.

  “Good luck, sweet pea,” Ranson said to his daughter. “I wish I were going with you.”

  “It’s only the police station,” Peggy explained.

  “I don’t care.” He sighed. “Any place is better than another mall!”

  When they were alone and on their way back uptown, Steve squeezed Peggy’s hand. “It’s too bad you didn’t have a chance to talk to Darmus. I suppose they’ll arrest him?”

  “I know they will.” She bit her lip, thinking through her revelation about the hyacinths. “If nothing else, pretending to be dead is a fraud.”

  “You think there’s
something more?” Steve asked perceptively, negotiating traffic. “The man in the house who everyone thought was him, right? They’ll want to know how he got there.”

  “I’m sure they’ll want to know that.” She gripped her hands restlessly to keep them from shaking. “And maybe more.”

  They parked outside the precinct. The sergeant at the front desk was expecting her and told her to go back to the conference room. They waited there, barely speaking, with Peggy dreading what was coming next.

  Finally Captain Jonas Rimer joined them. “Hello, Peggy. Steve.” He shook Steve’s hand. “Hard to believe what happened today, huh?”

  “At least for most of us,” Al said, following him into the small room. He was still wearing his good black suit from the funeral chapel. “Maybe some of us knew what to expect.”

  “Hello, Jonas. Al.” Peggy got to her feet. “Any word on Darmus?”

  “Not yet. He was taken to the hospital. They’ll let us know what’s up when they can.” Al closed the door to the room behind him.

  They settled in ladder-back chairs around the empty table. Peggy was glad they weren’t in an interrogation room anyway. This was just a small conference room. They’d had a birthday party for John once in this room.

  Jonas looked at her with a wary eye. “Okay. One of you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Steve nodded at Peggy. “Let her tell it. I’m just an innocent bystander.”

  “Who feels like he got hit with a truck, right?” Jonas nodded. “Yeah, I feel the same way around her.”

  “Well, obviously, Darmus isn’t dead.” She ignored their jibes and started to explain. “He and his brother, Luther, planned to fake Darmus’s death. Darmus wanted to get away from Feed America. He was afraid he was going to lose everything if he just gave it up. Luther wanted to take his place.”

  “What?” Jonas’s face mirrored his amazement. “What difference does that make? People give up jobs all the time. The Council of Churches would probably have been thrilled to have a pastor at the helm, especially Darmus’s brother.”

  She shrugged. “They obviously weren’t thinking clearly. Darmus has been paranoid about the group since he founded it. He thought if he faked his death and gave it all to Luther, he could walk away without feeling guilty. Luther wanted what Darmus had. I guess it seemed like a win-win situation.”

  Jonas looked skeptical. “And they found a man willing to cooperate by dying in Darmus’s place?”

  “Something like that.” She explained the situation and didn’t mind telling them about Holles’s involvement and his threatening behavior with her. “Darmus was going to turn himself in. I was supposed to meet him at his apartment and come down here with him.”

  “Peggy.” Al shook his head. “You know better!”

  “I left a hundred voice mails for you!” She pointed her finger at him. “This is as much your fault as mine! I tried to tell the police through you! I wanted Darmus to be taken in by someone he knew. You can see why. The poor thing isn’t in his right mind, bless his heart.”

  “I’m glad to hear we were going to be informed about all of this at some point.” Jonas smiled. “I’m surprised at you trying to take all of this into your own hands, Peggy. You should have come to us right away.”

  “I know. But I wanted to find Darmus first. Then I tried to get Al, because he knew him.”

  “Noble, but still wrong,” Al told her. “You could go to jail for harboring a fugitive.”

  “Except he wasn’t a fugitive,” Steve reminded him. “No one was looking for him.”

  Jonas shrugged. “True enough. But a judge might see it differently.”

  Steve smiled slowly. “But you don’t want to do that. You want something from Peggy. Right?”

  Al glanced at his boss and looked away.

  “Steve, I thought you were a veterinarian?” Jonas laughed. “You would’ve made a great lawyer.”

  Peggy was surprised, too. And pleased. “Luther knew about this, too. He helped Darmus set it up. I have a letter from him confessing to everything.”

  “Interesting.” Al and Jonas both nodded.

  “Neither one of them ever did anything like this in their lives,” she argued the brothers’ plight, not caring about her own. “I’m sure the DA won’t want to prosecute Darmus.”

  “Except for the hyacinth which you told us about,” Jonas said. “I might agree with you.”

  Peggy’s stomach dropped. “What’s the flower got to do with it?”

  “Luther had severe asthma. Anyone who knew him at all knew that. A hyacinth can cause asthma attacks.” Jonas glanced up at her. “The flower might not have been there by chance. Darmus might have used it to kill Luther.”

  “Why would he do that?” Peggy asked. “Darmus loved Luther. Luther helped him get away.”

  “Maybe he wanted it all back again.”

  “Feed America had just received a very large, private donation,” Al explained. “Darmus set it up, but Luther was going to get it.”

  “You know better!” Peggy rounded on him. “Darmus would never—”

  “What?” Jonas got to his feet. “Pretend to be dead? Possibly be responsible for the death of the man he put in his place for us to find? I think none of you know Darmus anymore.”

  “I have Luther’s statement about how that happened,” she explained. “I think it will convince anyone Darmus wasn’t in his right mind.”

  “Exactly, Peggy.” Al pulled at his tight shirt collar. “He wasn’t and isn’t in his right mind. We don’t know what he was capable of doing.”

  Jonas chewed on his pencil. “How did all of this get by us anyway? There was an autopsy done on the man we thought was Darmus after they found him in the house. I know they checked who he was.”

  “I’m sure they did,” Peggy agreed. “I’ve asked myself the same question. Somehow, Darmus’s body made it through the process without them finding out that it wasn’t really him. I guess it was a case of if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it is a duck.”

  Jonas’s face was bewildered. “What?”

  The phone rang before Peggy could explain her theory. Jonas spoke briefly, then hung up. “That was Officer Davis. The hospital is keeping Darmus for observation. They think he might be having a breakdown.”

  Peggy pulled a clean tissue from her pocketbook. “I can’t believe it. This is so wrong.”

  “Take it easy.” Jonas moved to pat her awkwardly on the shoulder. “The question now is: Did Darmus, in his agitated state, give his brother a hyacinth knowing it would kill him?”

  “How will you know?” Steve put his arm around Peggy. “It was a flower. Anyone could have given it to him.”

  “That’s probably true.” Jonas got on the phone again. “We’ll process it and see if we can find anything else. There could be a fingerprint on it somewhere. I’m sorry about your friend, Peggy. Get some rest. Take some of those herbs you’re always giving everyone.”

  “Thanks, Jonas.” She stood up slowly, weary after the day’s events. “You’ll let me know what you find out.”

  “I will.”

  But Peggy and Steve were only gone a moment before Jonas called the DA’s office for an arrest warrant for Dr. Darmus Appleby.

  PEGGY READ ABOUT DARMUS’S ARREST for fraud the next morning in the Charlotte Observer. She wasn’t surprised that Jonas didn’t waste any time. Even if they couldn’t prove Darmus was involved with Luther’s death, he would have to answer for the other things he’d done in his quest for freedom.

  She felt helpless, and didn’t know what else she could do to help him. She’d done what she could.

  “Says here your friend will be in the hospital awhile for observation.” Her father read from the paper as they finished breakfast. “Maybe something will come up that will help him.”

  “I don’t see what.” Peggy got up to get more coffee for Cousin Melvin. “He’s dug a pretty deep hole.”

  “But you never know,” her mother ad
ded, spooning blueberry preserves on her biscuit. “Miracles happen.”

  That led to a discussion of miracles around the table. Ranson, Lilla, Cousin Melvin, and Aunt Mayfield had come back from church an hour before. They were critical of Peggy for preferring to spend some time in her basement with her plants rather than attend church with them. Ranson supported his daughter, reminding them that God created those plants, and Peggy was the good shepherd, taking care of them.

  They finally went upstairs around ten a.m. to change clothes and prepare for their afternoon outing. The weather was holding up and there was no rain in the forecast. This wasn’t a good thing with the drought settling in around the area like a disagreeable neighbor, but it meant they could go out to the Stowe Botanical Garden that afternoon. Peggy’s good friend was the director there, and he’d promised her a wonderful show of late spring/early summer plantings.

  Although she didn’t feel like going out, Peggy knew if she didn’t, her parents would sit around all day, or worse, go to another mall. Since there was nothing she could do for Darmus, she figured she might as well go to the gardens. At least her father would enjoy it.

  Peggy put on peacock-blue slacks and a matching tunic top she’d bought the last time she was in Atlanta. She’d been there with John at a law enforcement conference. John had encouraged her to buy the outfit, telling her how much he liked the color on her. They’d gone back to the hotel that rainy afternoon and made love on the big bed.

  She put on a little pink lip gloss before she slipped her feet into sandals. That seemed a lifetime ago or longer. John was killed two weeks after they got back from Atlanta. It had been that long since she’d really thought about making love to a man, much less done it.

  Not that she ever would again. She sighed. Steve stirred up all kinds of things inside her. But they didn’t seem to have that sort of relationship, or he didn’t think about her that way. Maybe it was the age difference. Or maybe some things were best left behind with youth.