Poisoned Petals plgm-3

by Joyce Lavene

  “Meaning I shouldn’t ask what you’re planning?”

  “I always wash this myself. It’s very valuable.” She showed him the governor’s signature inside the bowl. The light caught on the twenty-four-karat gold rim. “I rarely use it.”

  “Peggy—”

  “I think you’re getting paranoid.”

  “I’d agree. Except you have this knack for getting into trouble.”

  “And getting out of it.”

  “So you admit something is going on!”

  “Something is always going on.”

  “Peggy!”

  “Good thing my name isn’t Lucy,” she quipped. “You’d sound just like Desi.”

  He stepped forward to block the door into the kitchen as she would have walked by him. “Let me help.”

  “There’s nothing to help with. Really. I think I might have a lead on who killed Luther, but it will have to wait until I talk to Al tomorrow.”

  “No skullduggery?”

  “I’m not really sure what that is, but I don’t think so.”

  He kissed her and sighed. “Thank you.”

  She hugged him with her free arm. “You’re welcome. I think I’ll get on the Internet and see what I can find out about Holles. I’m not getting anything from Sam.”

  “Need any help?”

  Hoping there wouldn’t be any messages from Nightflyer, she smiled. “I can always use your help.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” He kissed her, and they went upstairs toward her bedroom.

  “Now hold on a minute.” Peggy’s father stopped them. “No hanky-panky up there. Margaret Anne, I know you’ve been married, but you still need to watch your reputation. You’re a woman alone. You shouldn’t be having men up to your bedroom.”

  “We’re going to look up some things on the Internet.” She looked down over the banister.

  “Whatever you want to call it, it’s still wrong.”

  Paul laughed as he dried his hands on a dishtowel. “Mom, you know what I’ve told you about hanky-panky. I’m always telling her about that.”

  “You stay out of this!” Peggy warned.

  “No, he has a right,” her father continued. “He’s your only son. He should be involved in the decisions you make.”

  Peggy couldn’t believe it. She stared at her son and her father. Did they have to pick on her right now? “Is there something you wanted?” she addressed Paul.

  “Yeah, Cousin Melvin needs some bacon grease. Got any handy?”

  “You know I don’t! Why don’t you run to the Fresh Market and ask for some.”

  “Okay!” He ducked his head. “I’m sorry I said anything.”

  Ranson put his arm around Paul’s shoulders. “Don’t you make this boy feel bad about trying to do the right thing! He’s a good man like his daddy.”

  Steve muttered, “If I had any ideas about bedroom hanky-panky, between the bacon grease and your relatives, I’d definitely be out of the mood.”

  “Never mind that.” Peggy took his hand and led him toward the bedroom. “I’m fifty-two years old. I can take a man to my bedroom to look at the Internet or anything else I want to show him.”

  “That sounds promising.” Steve grinned. “Maybe I’m still in the mood after all.”

  Paul laughed and left them alone. But Peggy’s father was more persistent. “I’ll just come up there and help you out with that Internet thing.”

  “Ranson!” Peggy’s mother called out from the second story. “For heaven’s sake stop picking at her. Stop being so obnoxious!”

  “Oh, Lilla, you never let me have any fun.”

  “Yes, I do. Now go and help clean the kitchen. I’m trying to rest!”

  Peggy’s father shook his head. “All right.”

  Her mother sighed. “It’s your own fault,” she told Peggy. “The two of you never take anything seriously.”

  Thankfully there were no messages from Nightflyer waiting on her computer. She opened Explorer and went to Google Holles’s name.

  Steve sat back in his chair as she scanned for information. “I don’t see anything saying he’s really a wanted fugitive from Idaho.”

  “No.” She continued looking at entries. “But his thesis for college was about poisonous plants. That must count for something.”

  “I don’t know.” He yawned. “I don’t think anyone is going to arrest him for that.”

  Peggy thought for a moment. Nightflyer might have all the answers she needed about Holles. She’d wait until she talked to him before going any further. “You’re right.” She turned off the monitor and sat back with a sigh. “I don’t know what to do next.”

  “I have a few ideas.” He kissed her slowly, passionately, his hands traveling up from her waist, across her breasts.

  Peggy was surprised. She wasn’t sure what to expect from this romance that had come on her so suddenly and unexpectedly. They were very good friends. She and Steve kissed and hugged all the time, but they’d never discussed deepening their relationship.

  She thought about it sometimes in bed at night, even though she knew she wasn’t supposed to. Being over fifty didn’t make the urge go away, but she’d decided it wasn’t necessary. If he didn’t think of her that way, she’d take what she could get. She wasn’t twenty anymore with desire coursing through her veins like wine. She was a sedate, matronly woman who’d already experienced her grand passion.

  But that kiss made her pulse beat faster, her heart pound. The surprise she experienced when he felt her up (she wouldn’t dare call it that for fear no one said it anymore) must have shown in her eyes when she opened them to find him looking back at her.

  “Are you okay?”

  She knew he meant. Are you okay with what I just did? She nodded. “I was just . . . surprised.”

  “In a good way?”

  “Of course.”

  He frowned. “Of course? Could you clarify that statement?”

  Their conversation was interrupted by pounding on Peggy’s door. Her father bellowed, “It’s too quiet in there, Margaret Anne! What’s going on?”

  “Can’t he remember when he was young?” Steve rested his forehead against hers.

  “I think that’s the problem.” She grinned. “He remembers too well!”

  “We’ll talk about this later. Okay?”

  “All right.” She knew her voice sounded a little breathy and faint. She hoped he didn’t take that the wrong way.

  Shakespeare and her father were waiting in the hall for them. “Can’t you get on the Internet without having your bedroom door closed?”

  Peggy felt her face get hot. “That’s enough, Dad.” She flushed easily anyway. She wasn’t embarrassed by what happened between her and Steve. It was ridiculous at her age. She kept her back straight and her chin high as she went downstairs, despite the look of complete amusement on Steve’s face.

  PEGGY HATED TO LIE to Steve. But she couldn’t take her eyes off her watch as they sat around talking. She was already planning how she was going to slip out of the house after everyone was in bed. Only her father was likely to be awake, and he’d be engrossed in a book. She might even be able to tell him the truth without him insisting he had to come. But it would be better for him not to know. Of course this would have to happen at a time when she had a house full of company!

  She had to admit she was curious to see what Nightflyer would look like. Her heart pounded, and her face felt flushed. She wasn’t romantically interested, she kept telling herself as the minutes dragged by and she lost track of the conversation. She was curious because she knew so little about him. That was all. It was a midnight fling with adventure for a woman who didn’t have too many adventures in her life.

  That sobered her. What if he was using her somehow? She didn’t like to admit to being vulnerable. She was a sane, rational woman. A scientist.

  This is different. I’m meeting him because he has information about Luther and Darmus. It wasn’t the same as sneaking out to meet
John when they were dating. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She knew what she was doing.

  But now that she had some doubt in her mind about how sane and rational it was to meet a man she’d never met in Myers’s Park at midnight, the time suddenly began to fly. She found she couldn’t hold on to the minutes. Paul and Sam said their good nights and left. So did Steve. She walked him out to his SUV and kissed him in the light from the new crescent moon.

  “Good night, Peggy.” He smiled and nuzzled her neck. “Anything on tap for tomorrow?”

  “I’m going to plant a white garden and talk to Al. That’s about it.”

  “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  He studied her face. “Something wrong?”

  “No.” She yawned. “Just tired. It’s been a busy week.”

  “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before.”

  “Even I get tired. Thanks for cooking dinner tonight and taking my mom out today.”

  “My pleasure. I like your mother. She reminds me of you.”

  “Really?” She could hardly believe it was true. She was nothing like her mother. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

  He laughed as he opened the door to the Vue. “Sorry! I didn’t mean it to be offensive.”

  “No offense taken.” She waved to him as he started the engine. “Good night.”

  She looked up at the night sky, shivering a little in the chill breeze that reminded her it was still spring. In another month it would be seventy-five degrees at night. If she was going to ride her bike to the park, she was going to have to dress warm. It might be insane, but she was going to meet Nightflyer.

  Peggy went inside and said good night to her cousin and her aunt. They were already climbing the stairs with her mother and Naomi. Her mother seemed to have adopted the poor girl. “Why don’t you put in one of those stair machines,” Aunt Mayfield huffed when she saw her. “It would make this much easier. You’re not a spring chicken yourself anymore, Margaret!”

  Peggy agreed and went to kiss her father good night. He was in the den with the television on, turned low, and a book in his lap. It was the way she remembered him best. He always had to do more than one thing at a time. She felt fortunate she took after him. Her mother was different. She was more focused, always knowing how to get things done. She had to do things her way, one step at a time.

  Ranson put his book down when he saw her. “So what do you think about Sam being involved with Holles now that we know Holles may have something to do with Luther’s death?”

  “I don’t think Sam knows anything about it. And we can’t really prove anything with those cottonseeds. They’re unusual in the city, but not in Albemarle. They could have come from anywhere. It’s circumstantial at best.”

  “That’s true. But it’s all you’ve got right now. Sam might know something, too. Sometimes people know things they don’t know they know.”

  “I know.” She laughed and kissed him. “Mom said you’re supposed to be telling me something. Is something going on with you two?”

  He reached his hand down to pet Shakespeare. “We’re thinking about selling the farm, sweet pea. It’s a big responsibility. We can’t maintain it the way we used to, and you’re not interested in living down there. I should have had a son I could have guilted into helping out.”

  Peggy laughed. “Sorry! I think you had more to do with my genetic makeup than I did. Seriously, Dad, if you two make that decision, it’s okay with me. Can I do something to help?”

  He took her hand and kissed it. “Probably not. I wanted you to know. That’s all. Your mother has to make such a big fuss over everything.”

  “Is that all?” She searched his face, wondering if she also got that secretive part of her nature from him.

  “That’s it. Considering we’ve lived all of our married life on that piece of land, I think that’s enough.”

  “I know. It will be a big move for you. What will you do?”

  “Maybe move up here with you.” He glanced around the room. “You have plenty of space. I think we could get along well enough.”

  Is that what this trip was all about? Peggy couldn’t believe they wanted to live with her. She caught a lift at one corner of his mouth. “You!” She bent down to kiss his forehead. “You’d never leave Charleston!”

  “You’re probably right.” He sighed and picked up his book again. “So much for La Dolce Vita. Have you ever seen that movie?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Anita Elberg, I think it was, scampering around in a fountain. If she tried that today, they’d arrest her!”

  “Good night, Dad.”

  “Keep me posted about what’s going on with Darmus.”

  “I will.”

  Shakespeare stayed with her father. When she saw he wasn’t going to follow her to bed, Peggy tiptoed to the kitchen and grabbed the light jacket she kept there. It was 11:40. She’d probably be early, but she’d never have a better opportunity to slip out unnoticed. Besides, it would take a few minutes to get to the park. If she were going to go, she’d better do it.

  She walked her bike to the road like it was a car she couldn’t start without disturbing everyone, and glanced back at the few lighted windows in the house. Thankfully, Shakespeare hadn’t barked or tried to follow her. It was quiet. The only sound was the occasional car on Queens Road. She put her keys in her jacket pocket in case someone locked the house door while she was gone and shoved her cell phone into her pants pocket.

  The section of the city known as Myers Park actually was built around a small park that, by day, was teeming with joggers and mothers with strollers, power walking with their headphones. Now it was empty. There weren’t crickets or birds at this time of night.

  As Peggy circled the park, trying to decide where to put her bike, a cat meowed from behind a tree. It startled her and made her realize how alone she was. She could hear the sound of a truck off in the distance, probably at Harris Teeter making a delivery.

  The breeze shook the new leaves in the oak trees. Looking around, she decided to leave her bike near the footpath where she could see it. She planned to sit down on a nearby bench and wait. She locked her bike, then stood up and peered into the dark.

  “Peggy? What’s going on?”

  “Steve! What are you doing here?”

  The breeze had picked up in the last few minutes. It blew a strand of hair into her eyes, but not before she thought she saw someone else. A shadow moved quickly across the empty sidewalk toward the tall red tips of the photinia bushes at the far end of the park. Was it Nightflyer?

  “I was worried about you. And I knew something was up. I can’t believe you lied to me! If you had to visit a park in the middle of the night, you should have told me. I would have come with you.”

  “I was supposed to meet Nightflyer.” She knew it wouldn’t happen now. Even if he was here, Nightflyer wouldn’t come out with Steve standing over her, glowering. What in the world was Steve thinking, coming out at this time of night?

  “Are you kidding me? You sneaked out here like this to meet some guy from the Internet? Peggy, that’s crazy! Don’t you watch the news about people who get hurt by meeting their Internet connections? You could have been killed!”

  “You shouldn’t have followed me. This is exactly why I didn’t tell you about the meeting.”

  “Really? Is that it? Or is this more a romantic thing with you and this guy? You wanted to meet him secretly to find out if there was really anything between you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!”

  “Ridiculous? I’m not the one who rode my bike over here at this time of night to meet a stranger who’s been emailing me for the past six months.”

  “Steve—” She tried to calm him down, but it was too late.

  “Wait. You’re right. I am the one who’s ridiculous. I’m the idiot who followed you over here because I was worried about you.” He turned to walk away. “S
orry to interrupt your tryst. Give my best to Nightstalker.”

  “Nightflyer,” she corrected lamely as Steve walked away from her, blended into the shadows, and was gone. He must have been waiting outside her house for her to make her move. Thinking about it, she didn’t know if she should kiss him or choke him. She was glad he cared about her, but he had ruined her meeting with Nightflyer. She might never get another chance to meet him. And she wouldn’t get the information she needed from him.