6 A Thyme to Die (15 page)

“Steve!” she persuaded Shakespeare to stay in the hall and closed the door.

He handed her a single red rose. “I looked this up in the language of flowers. It means passionate love. This is how I feel about you, Peggy.”

She took the rose from him and smelled it.

“I knew you’d do that.” He grinned. “I ordered it specially. It’s an heirloom perfume rose. Like it?”

“Love it.” She put her arms around him and kissed him. “It’s not our anniversary. What’s the special occasion?”

“There isn’t a special occasion. Or every day with you is a special occasion. I know we’ve had some issues lately. I want you to remember that you’re always special to me.”

“You’re always special to me too, whether you’re a veterinarian or a secret agent.”

“Secret agent, huh?” He kissed her and drew her closer. “I guess I should’ve worn my tux.”

Peggy smiled in a wicked way. “I like you better this way. There’s less to take off.”

#

At two thirty-five am, Peggy’s cell phone started ringing. She thought it was the alarm clock and tried to hit the snooze button. When it didn’t stop, she groaned and opened one eye.

“I think that’s your phone,” Steve muttered.

“I think you’re right.”

Peggy answered the call, barely understanding that the man on the other end was working for the alarm company responsible for the convention center. Her name had been put on the roster for contacts in case of emergency during the flower show.

When she finally understood the message, she thanked the caller and shut off her phone. “The alarm went off at the convention center.”

“Do you have to do something with that?” Steve asked in a sleepy voice.

“I’m supposed to go and make sure everything is okay.” She was already tossing back the comforter and swinging her legs out of bed.

Steve sat up too.

“You don’t have to get up. I’ll throw on some sweatpants and ride down there on my bike. I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

“That’s not happening.”

“The officer outside will follow me there,” she told him. “There’s no reason for you to lose sleep over it.”

“Are
you
going?” He peered at her after turning on his bedside light. “Then I’m not staying here.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

They got dressed. Shakespeare thought it was time to get up. He wanted to go outside and then eat breakfast. He followed Steve and Peggy downstairs, excited that the night was over.

“Everything okay?” Ken stood at the top of the landing. “Need some help?”

“We’re fine,” Steve assured him. “The alarm went off at the convention center. Go back to sleep.”

Peggy turned off the outside alarm and answered another call on her cell phone. This time it was Charlotte PD telling her that the alarm had gone off at the convention center. She told them that she was on her way and put on a light jacket.

Shakespeare was whining, not understanding what was going on.

“I don’t want to feed him this early,” Steve said. “It’ll throw off his schedule for the day.”

“Let him relieve himself and bring him with us.” She yawned as she looked for her bag. “I guess we should take your SUV instead of the FBI car. He’s usually good in a car, but who knows?”

Steve put the leash on the dog and grabbed his keys. “Better not take any chances.”

Shakespeare made his outdoor constitutional fast. He was so excited when Steve called him into the backseat of the SUV that he jumped in with one leap. He sat on the seat, wagging his tail, as Steve put the doggy seatbelt around him.

“Anything wrong?” Walter called out from his front door after turning on his outside light.

“Everything’s fine,” Peggy said. “Go back to sleep.”

Before Steve could get inside and start the engine, the blue flashing lights from the police car came on. The officer drove the vehicle into the end of the driveway.

“Here it comes,” Steve said. “Do you want to say it again or should I?”

“Your turn.”

“Everything is fine, officer.” Steve rolled down his window.

“I’m supposed to escort you to the convention center. Captain Sedgwick says it could be a cover for something else going on. Follow me.”

“I should’ve let you say it.” Steve started the engine.

“You’d better get moving or he’ll come back for us.”

They followed the fast-moving police car through the nearly empty streets. There was a street cleaner out and a few cars at Krispy Kreme Donuts. The lighted ‘hot donuts now’ sign was on.

“I wish I had a hot donut now.” Steve turned right to follow the police car.

“Me too. And a hot cup of tea.”

Shakespeare whined and wagged his tail.

“I think he does too.” Peggy reached back a hand to stroke him. “Almost there. Let’s not talk about food again. He’ll think we’re holding out on him.”

Steve smiled. “As big as he is, he might eat us if we don’t feed him.”

They finally reached the convention center. There were several police cars in the parking lot with their lights flashing. Reggie was at the guard shack, talking to an officer. The alarm was still going off.

“I thought someone would’ve turned it off by now.” Peggy pointed at a new green Jaguar in the parking lot. “That’s Dabney’s car right there. I wonder if he’s inside?”

Steve parked the SUV near the gate, ignoring the frowns he received from the police officers waiting there. He took out his badge as he stepped out and showed it to them.

“Is Dabney inside trying to find the off switch?” Peggy asked, wanting to cover her ears to block out the annoying alarm. She felt sorry for the people who lived around there and had to be awake at that time of the morning.

“No one is inside, Peggy,” Reggie said. “I’ve been here all night. Probably a bird or something tripped the alarm. It happens.”

She swiveled to glance at Dabney’s car again. “They put me on the alarm list, but I have no idea where the switch is to turn it off. No one gave me an alarm code either. If Dabney’s not here, you should call him.”

Standing beside Steve as Reggie looked up Dabney’s number, Peggy was puzzled. Surely as manager of the center, he’d get the first call. If so, why wasn’t he there?

“Maybe he didn’t feel like coming.” Steve shrugged. “If it happens all the time, he probably wants to leave it to you.”

“That would be a mistake. I think it’s odd that his car is here but he’s not.”

“Maybe he went home with someone else. People do that kind of thing. Police get missing person calls every day from small events like that.”

“No answer.” Reggie put down his phone. “Just like last time.”

“Find someone on that list to turn off the alarm,” an officer growled standing close to him.

“Yes sir.”

Peggy couldn’t explain it. It was like a sixth sense that told her something was wrong with Dabney. It sounded crazy so she didn’t say anything as she sneaked over to look into his car.

The overhead lights in the parking lot were so tall that the glow they cast was difficult to make out fine details. She bent down and peeked into the passenger side front window.

Dabney was sitting in the driver’s seat with his head on the steering wheel.

Chapter Seventeen

Poppy

The poppy family is large and vibrant, containing both wild and cultivated flowers. Not all poppies are the kind used for heroin. Non-heroin poppies are a favorite of perennial gardeners. The flowers attract bees, butterflies and hummingbirds, making them a delight in any garden. They can grow more than a foot tall and range from shades of red to blue. 

“Steve!” she yelled. “It’s Dabney. I think he’s hurt.”

Several police officers ran to the car with Steve.

“Stand back, ma’am,” one of them said. “The door is locked. We’re going to open it.”

Peggy and Steve stood back from the door. The officer used a Slim Jim to get the door open.

Dabney slid out of the car. He would’ve fallen on the pavement but a second officer stepped in to catch him. Together, the two officers laid him in the parking lot. One of them felt his neck.

“No pulse.”

Steve stepped forward and opened Dabney’s suit coat. Even under the odd lighting, it was easy to see the bloodstain that had spread across his chest. “He’s dead. Someone call the morgue. We need crime scene and the medical examiner out here.”

More police cars arrived along with crime scene techs that set up secondary spotlights to better see the car and Dabney.

“Does it look like he was shot too?” Peggy asked Steve when he had a moment to answer.

“I don’t think so. It looks like a knife wound to me. Let’s see what Dr. Beck has to say. I’m going to take Shakespeare home and come back, unless you’re going home.”

“I’m still supposed to go inside and look around. I wish someone on Reggie’s list would come out and turn off the alarm.”

An older brown Chevy, that had seen better days, chugged into the parking lot. The driver was challenged by police who finally let him through.

“I’m Dabney Wilder’s assistant.” The young man adjusted his glasses. His voice cracked as he asked what was going on. “There are a lot of police out here for an alarm.”

Peggy smiled at Steve. “I’m not going home just yet.”

She went to talk with Dabney’s assistant. “I hope you’re here to turn off the alarm.” Peggy took the young man by the arm and started walking toward the convention center. “I can’t get inside to check on things until you do.”

“You must be Dr. Lee.” He looked at his cell phone. “I’m David Mueller. This kind of thing happens sometimes. The alarm company assumes Mr. Wilder has already been to the scene and turned off the alarm. They call me if the police keep bugging them.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, David, but Mr. Wilder is dead.”

“Dead?” He nervously took off his loose glasses and cleaned them on a cloth. “What happened?”  

“Let’s go inside and I’ll explain. This alarm is making my head hurt.”

The keypad for the alarm was to the right of the door, behind a large cement post. David didn’t even have to look up the code. He turned on the light and punched it in. The noise stopped.

“Thank goodness.” Peggy turned to him. He was average height and weight with light brown hair and hazel eyes mostly hidden behind his glasses. He looked as though he could be right out of college.

“What happened to Mr. Wilder?”

“We found him outside in his car. It looks like he’s been murdered.”

“Murdered? Him too? First that African man and now Mr. Wilder.” His eyes were unfocused.

“I’m sorry. I know it must be a terrible shock for you.”

He stared at her until it seemed he’d taken it all in. “I know it’s an awful thing to say, and please don’t tell anyone I said it, but I’m not surprised at all. Mr. Wilder was friends and enemies with some terrible people. I tried to stay out of their way as much as possible. I don’t know how he lived that way. He had threats against him every day.”

Peggy patted his arm. “That must’ve been a hard way to work for you. I’ve heard stories about your boss. I knew him a little. Has there been anything recent that you think might have caused this?”

David seemed to search through his thoughts. “There was something unusual going on with the flower show. He got a lot of angry phone calls from some people. Last week, some criminal types stopped in at the office.”

“Criminal types?”

“I know, right?” He nervously grinned. “But these weren’t the kind in expensive suits like most of the others. These were badly dressed, smelly men. They wanted more money for something.”

“Something like what?”

“I’m not sure. A lot of times, Mr. Wilder kept things from me. I’m not complaining—I didn’t want to know about that side of his business. It seems to me that it had something to do with a plane.”

Peggy barely had time to thank him and store away the information he’d given her before Norris Rankin joined them as they stood in the doorway.

“Dr. Lee?”

“Yes? Oh, hello Norris.”

“Steve wanted me to come down and walk through the building with you. There’s supposed to be an officer with us. I don’t know where he’s gone. It’s a circus out there.”

Not particularly wanting to be alone with Norris, Peggy wanted to wait for the officer.

“It might be better since technically, the police department has jurisdiction here.”

“I’m not worried about jurisdiction.” Norris scowled at David. “Is there someplace you should be, son?”

“You should probably go and talk to Lieutenant Al McDonald,” Peggy said to David. “Tell him what you told me.”

“Does that have anything to do with this case?” Norris put his hand on David’s arm to detain him.

“Nothing at all to do with this case,” she assured him. “Go on, David. Find Al McDonald.”

“Thanks, Dr. Lee.” David gazed at the FBI agent whose hand was still on his arm.

Norris let him go. “All right. Just remember who I report to, Dr. Lee. I don’t want to cause any problems between you and Steve.”

Once David was gone, Peggy started into the flower show. She was gritting her teeth in frustration as she picked up her clipboard that she’d kept at the welcome center in case she forgot her master copy of vendors and growers in her tablet.