6 A Thyme to Die (13 page)

“Is that why you came in here?”

“I heard them talking through the door. They’re looking for something. Maybe they’re looking for Aris’s duffel.”

“Maybe,” Paul joked. “Or maybe they’re looking for a new place to buy their next sports car. Who knows?”

He started walking back toward The Potting Shed exhibit.

Peggy followed him. “Don’t you find it a little odd that these two rich, well-connected men would be skulking around in a maintenance closet?

“I find everything rich, well-connected men do a little odd.”

They passed a beautiful exhibit created by a grower from Florida. In the midst of all the spring and summer blooms, Jazzy’s Junipers, had chosen to create a winter scene. It played well with their product, six and seven-foot junipers. They’d brought them potted to the flower show. From the looks of the crowd gathered around the log cabin and sleigh, the junipers were doing very well.

Peggy took two small sprigs of the dark green foliage that held a black berry or two. She put one in her pocket and one in her son’s.

Paul pulled his berry out and examined it. “What’s this?”

“Juniper. In the language of flowers, this plant means protection.” She linked her arm through his. “I think we might need a little of that.”

He put his arm around her shoulders. “I appreciate that, Mom. But really, I’d rather have my revolver.”

“You were always stubborn.”

“And who did I get that from?”

Peggy gazed at the side of his face as they walked. “Do you really think there’s something to the FBI investigating your father’s death as something other than a domestic disturbance homicide?”

“You know I’ve always felt that something wasn’t right about Dad’s death. When you and I argued about me going into the police academy, you accused me of wanting revenge.”

“Yes. I did.”

“It was really justice that I wanted for him. I want to know what happened and why he died, especially now that I know about the FBI connection.” His jaw tightened as he spoke. “Don’t you?”

Peggy agreed, theoretically. She was afraid of what she might have to sacrifice to find justice for John’s death. That had always been her argument against Paul being on the job. She didn’t plan to lose her son the same way she’d lost his father.

The same way she could lose Steve.

Chapter Fourteen

Spruce

Spruce trees are long-lived and grow in colder climates. One tree in western Sweden has been found to be more than 9,000 years old. The wood from spruce has been used to build homes and boats for generations. The resin was used to seal roofs and to keep ships seaworthy in the past. The fresh roots are a source of Vitamin C which Captain Cook used to keep his crew from developing scurvy. The essential oils have been used for various purposes too. Spruces weren’t used for ornamental trees until the 1800s when their conical shape began to be admired.

Steve was waiting at The Potting Shed exhibit when Peggy and Paul reached it.

“You’re back early.” Peggy kissed his cheek. “It must’ve been a short meeting.”

“Actually, the meeting was canceled until six tonight at the ME’s office. Al and Dr. Beck would like their forensic botanist at the meeting.” He put his arm around her.

“What kind of evidence did you find on the plane?” she asked impatiently.

“That’s why we’re having the meeting. So everyone is updated at the same time.”

“Tease,” she scolded.

“So the skunk is in the library at home. I thought Shakespeare was going to knock me down trying to get at it.”

Peggy wasn’t expecting that. “In the library?”

“She needed to be in a room with a sturdy door. The library seemed like the best place.”

“You could’ve put her in a spare room.” She sighed. “Never mind. We’ll take care of it when we get home.” She filled him in on her agreement with Ken about Matilda.

“I guess that means he’ll be staying at the house too.” Steve glanced at his watch.

“No. He’s coming over each day to take care of her.”

“Yeah. Right.”

Sam laughed. “You know her
too
well.”

“Or well enough,” Paul added.

“If you’re done ganging up on me, I think I’m going to go. With traffic, and grabbing a quick bite for dinner, we’ll barely make the meeting at six.” She glanced at Steve.

“That works for me,” he said.

Walter Bellows appeared out of the crowd that was mostly making for the front entrance now. “I assume we’re about ready to depart. What a fascinating show. I’m so glad I came. Did you see the escaped skunk earlier? Maybe not as exciting as a murder, but entertaining nonetheless.”

Steve snorted. “I saw the skunk. She’s living at our house now.”

Walter was further amazed by this unexpected revelation and continued talking about it as Peggy said goodbye to Sam and Selena.

“I can handle taking a shift on watching your mother if you want to go home,” Steve suggested to Paul.

“Okay. I’d like to have dinner with Mai. I haven’t looked at my email recently either. Captain Sedgwick might want me to be at the meeting. Or he might want me to take the nightshift at the house.”

“Thanks again for what you did today.” Steve shook his hand.

“She’s not just another case, you know,” Paul reminded him. “Not that I wouldn’t have done the same thing for anyone. You don’t have to thank me.”

“Sorry. How about I buy you a beer sometime, no women?”

“Sounds good,” Paul said. “I’ve got some Mom stories that will make you laugh.”

Peggy ignored them, starting toward the door with Walter chatting continuously about the flower show and the skunk. Steve was with them by the time they’d reached the guard shack. Pete was still on duty. He waved them through.

Steve’s car was parked by the gate. He opened the front door for Peggy. Walter slid inside with a quick, “Thank you, my good man.”

Peggy laughed and got in the back seat. “How do you rate parking up here in the No Parking Zone?”

“I’m with the FBI. We always get the best parking places.”

“I won’t tell Paul you said that since he had to park in the lot.”

“So you say the skunk is staying at your house for the remainder of the week?” Walter asked.

Steve grudgingly started the car and went out into the long line of traffic waiting to exit the flower show. Bellows might be in the front seat on the way home, he decided, but he wasn’t going out to dinner with them.

Shakespeare was happy to see them when they got back to the house. Steve said goodnight to Walter and let the dog out while Peggy went to check on Matilda.

The little skunk was very well-mannered. She peered back at Peggy through the cage bars with curious black eyes.

“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to do something for you,” Peggy told her. “Ken will be here later. Don’t worry. It looks like you have enough water. You should be fine.”

The skunk sniffed Peggy’s nose then lay down on the straw bedding in the cage. Peggy laughed. If only Shakespeare was as quiet and gentle as Matilda.

She and Steve met in the kitchen. Shakespeare was eating and Steve had taken off his jacket. He was rolling up his sleeves and seemed to be getting ready to cook something.

“I thought we were going out to eat?”

“Maybe we should stay here. We’re close to the ME’s office and I don’t really want to share you with all the people you know who can’t help stopping by our table when we’re out. We have cheese and vegetables for omelets.”

“That’s fine with me.”

Peggy sliced some sourdough bread they had left over from their last trip to the bakery. She poured some Muscadine wine for both of them. She’d been dying to try the new blackberry wine from their favorite local spot, Rocky River Vineyards.

“I’m glad the flower show went better today, even though you were almost killed in the street.” Steve whipped the eggs with a little extra force than was necessary.

“It really wasn’t that close.” Her memory of that moment when the car plunged past them still made her heart beat faster.

“I think Dabney Wilder is involved.” Steve put the egg into the omelet pan. It sizzled and immediately started to cook. “I’ve been looking into his background. He owns the plane that brought Dr. Abutto to Charlotte. I haven’t found any reason for him to need extra cash. I don’t like that this incident happened right after you talked to him.”

“I thought we weren’t talking about evidence before the meeting.” She pointed the bread knife at him as she got out the butter.

“I thought you wanted to know what I was thinking.”

She walked up behind him and put her arms around him, resting her head against his back. “I did. I do! Thanks for being so good-natured about Matilda.”

“I can handle anything you throw at me.”

“Good. I hope that’s all it takes.”

Steve turned around and started to kiss her when a loud rap at the kitchen door drew growls and barking from Shakespeare.

“You hold him,” Peggy said. “I’ll answer the door.”

“I don’t think so,” Steve argued. “I’m not the one in protective surveillance. You hold the dog and I’ll answer the door. If it’s Bellows, I’m not inviting him in for dinner.”

She laughed and went to sit down, calling Shakespeare to her. She put both arms around his chest and held him as he sat down, snuffling her ear and whacking his tail on the wood floor. “Okay. We’re ready.”

It was no mean feat to hold the hundred-and-forty pound dog in place when he was excited to see who was at the door.

Steve took his revolver out of the holster that had been under his jacket. He opened the door a crack and peered outside. “Yes?”

“Sorry to bother you. I’ve come to look after Matilda. This is Peggy Lee’s place, right?”

“That’s Ken,” Peggy told Steve. “Let him in. He needs to take care of the skunk.”

Reluctantly, Steve put away his gun and let Ken inside. It looked like he was doomed to share his wife during dinner that night, no matter how hard he tried not to.

Ken eyed Steve and the gun in his holster very carefully as he went inside. As soon as he saw Peggy, his gaze latched on to her.

“I’m so sorry. I was thinking about Matilda all afternoon. I hope she hasn’t been any trouble. Could I see her now?”

Peggy offered to show him the way to the library while Steve started working on an extra omelette.

“This is a great place you have.” Ken’s dark eyes moved over every detail as they walked through the house. “Have you lived here long?”

“Most of my life.”

They walked past the blue spruce towering through the middle of the house.

He whistled in admiration as he looked up to the top of the tree. “Wow! Did you plant it? That’s amazing.”

Peggy opened the library door. She felt Shakespeare’s interest as he sniffed at Ken’s heels. Smelling the skunk, as the door opened, got his full attention. It took both hands to hold him back from entering the room.

Ken crouched down and rubbed Shakespeare’s neck. “You’re a big boy, aren’t you? Having a dog here should make Matilda feel right at home. We have a St. Bernard back in Hibbing. The two of them are best friends.”

Peggy let Shakespeare go. The dog rubbed noses with the skunk through the cage bars. He whined a little and jumped around. Matilda settled back down to sleep.

“I brought her some food. She eats dry food but I try to dress it up some with vegetables and plants. She loves rose petals.” Ken smiled at Peggy as he took out a handful of pink rose petals from his pocket. “They were on the floor. I didn’t think it would matter if I brought them to her.”

Matilda gobbled up the rose petals and Ken stroked her fur.

“I’ll be here for you every day, little girl,” he promised. “It’s only a few days. Better for you to be somewhere safe than picked up by the wildlife people.”

Peggy agreed with that. She’d lied to animal control when they’d come to the flower show after Matilda’s escape. She thought there was no point in making a big deal out of a problem that had already been solved.

“We were about to eat dinner,” she said to Ken. “Why don’t you join us?”

Peggy took Shakespeare back into the kitchen. Ken followed after he’d finished feeding Matilda. Steve was laying out three plates with bread, eggs, and strawberries on them.

They sat at the old wood table in the kitchen. Peggy had allowed Paul’s initials to stay carved in the underside of the table, despite John’s wishes to the contrary. There were times, after John had passed and Paul had moved out on his own, that she’d reached down to feel the carving. Somehow it had made her feel less alone.

“So this house is in your husband’s family.” Ken grinned at Steve.

“Not me,” Steve denied as he poured himself more wine.

“My first husband,” Peggy clarified after sharing the story about the house with their guest. “She’s a grand old lady. I hope I never have to leave her.”

Ken agreed. “If I had a place like this, I wouldn’t leave either. I built my own place up in Minnesota. Last summer, I replaced the tar paper on the walls with vinyl siding. It looks real good.”

“More wine?” Peggy asked him as Steve glanced significantly at his watch. It was five forty-five.