Fruit of the Poisoned Tree (4 page)

“Does he want you to marry his brother-in-law again?” Sam laughed, his even, white teeth gleaming against his darkly tanned face.

“Of course. I’m sure one day I’ll have to meet him.” Peggy picked up the mail and looked through it, tossing away some ads for life insurance. “How are you, Selena? How did it go while I was gone? Any strange requests?”

Selena shrugged her thin shoulders, her blond hair sliding against her neck. “It was about like February. It’s cold outside. It’s hard for most people to think about planting yet. But there was this
one
guy. He wanted to plant a whole yard full of stuff right now.”

“Oh yeah.” Sam zipped up his jacket. “I forgot to tell you about him. Mr. Crawford. He offered me a thousand dollar bonus if I could get enough plants in his yard to make his wife think they were there already when the house was built. I think it’s one of those treeless wonders from over in Pineville.”

Peggy stopped opening her garden catalogues. “What did you say to him?”

“It was hard, but we both said no.” Selena looked at Sam. “First of all, none of those plants would survive right now. How happy would he be after his wife pulled up into a yard filled with dead plants? It was a crazy, desperate idea.”

Sam shook his head. “I offered to plant
anything
that might live, but none of it would have tons of flowers and green leaves. Apparently Mr. Crawford told his wife, who was still out of state, that everything blooms here all the time and their yard was filled with flowers and trees.”

“If there had been any way at all,” Selena finished, “we would’ve shared that money. It would’ve made the Potting Shed’s bottom line skyrocket for the month, too.”

“It’s just as well you didn’t do it.” Peggy put down the mail and picked up the phone. “It would’ve ended in disaster. And we all know he would’ve blamed us. So I guess we’ll have to do something the old-fashioned way to remind our normal customers spring is closer than they think. Pull up the customer list on the computer, Selena. Let’s come up with a sales flyer to send to everyone. By the way, I love your hair.”

The younger woman smiled and fingered her new, shorter cut. “I was mostly trying to get that awful blue color out I put in over the summer when I went to that pool party. I’m thinking about going darker. Dark hair is really popular right now. What do you think?”

“I already told you what I think,” Sam responded as he picked up a hundred pound bag of bulbs from the floor like it was a child’s toy. “You don’t have the coloring to go dark. Unless you’re going to dye your lashes and brows. You’d just look spooky.”

“Okay, Thor. Thanks.” Selena turned to Peggy. “I meant what do
you
think?”

“I agree with Thor, I mean, Sam,” Peggy replied with a laugh. “Sorry, honey. Let me make this phone call, and we’ll talk.” She dialed the number of one of their local distributors and ordered two fifty pound bags of Jerusalem artichokes.

Selena and Sam were still bickering about Selena’s hair color when Peggy got off the phone. She ignored it. The two were good-natured, even when they disagreed. “Thanks for taking over for me, Selena. I feel like I haven’t been home in a month. And I promised Steve I’d get Shakespeare from him before dinnertime.”

“Not a problem, Peggy,” Selena added. “But what do you
really
think about me going dark? I think I’d look good.”

Peggy glanced at her. “There’s only one way to find out. Do it. You can always change it back. It’s only hair, after all.”

“Thanks, Peggy.” Selena smiled at Sam smugly. “At least
someone
has a brain around here!”

“Sam, can you drive me home?” Peggy asked him after they’d gone through a moment of glaring at each other.

“Sure.” He shook his head. “Are you still working on changing the engine in your Rolls so it burns hydrogen? If not, maybe you should just get a hybrid car. It’s not doing much good for the environment if you ride your bike to work then use our old truck to drive all over the city after you get here.”

“I know that.” Peggy shot him an irritated glance. “I’m working on it. Selena, please get that list together for me. This place is like a tomb. We have to get some of our shoppers interested in warm spring days and beautiful green plants. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They went through the back door to the loading area behind the shop, and Sam asked, “And what are we going to do with all the Jerusalem artichokes? I already got four fifty pound bags in yesterday, and now you ordered more. Any ideas? Are we planting them in Founder’s Hall?”

“They’re very nice plants and a good way for patio growers to have sunflowers. They’re also good to eat and good for you. And they aren’t really Jerusalem artichokes, you know. They’re calling them sunchokes right now. That’s much nicer, isn’t it?”

Sam started the truck. “I suppose. But that’s still a lot of them. Do you have some plan you aren’t sharing? Are you giving them away when a customer buys a
real
plant?”

“Don’t be prejudiced,” she scolded, buckling her seat belt. “The sunchokes will do very well. You’ll see. People are always looking for something different. As long as we give it to them, they won’t have to look anywhere else.”

“You’re the boss.” He backed the truck out of the parking lot. “I just don’t want to be eating them for the next year. I remember the first year the Potting Shed was open, and you ordered too many tulips. I got tulips for bonuses, my birthday,
and
Christmas.”

“You worry too much.” She smiled at him and patted his arm. “This is different.”

They drove through thick evening traffic from the Potting Shed to Peggy’s home on Queens Road in the heart of the city. As usual, there was never a break in conversation between them as they discussed Sam’s notes about the shop.

Peggy noticed a problem with her Great Dane, Shakespeare, as soon as she got out of the truck. He had a crazed look in his eyes as he waited in the drive and almost knocked her down when he saw her. “What did you do to him?” she asked Steve as she absorbed the impact of the dog’s body slamming into hers.

“He’s the same unruly mutt you left behind.” Steve kissed her and nuzzled her neck as he handed her the leash. “You smell great! I missed you. But as your veterinarian, I’d recommend obedience classes. Just because he’s friendly and lovable doesn’t mean he won’t pull you down the street while you’re holding his leash.”

A thin layer of ice from that morning still varnished the sidewalk in her yard where the trees kept the sun from reaching the concrete. Peggy wasn’t paying attention as she took the dog toward the house. Shakespeare saw a squirrel and pulled hard to the right as he investigated. Fully recovered from his abuse at the hands of his previous owner, the 140-pound dog almost dragged her into oncoming street traffic. She pulled him back but lost her footing and sat down hard on her butt right on Queens Road.

Shakespeare looked back at her with a goofy grin, his floppy, unclipped ears framing his massive face and black muzzle. He paused long enough to lick her face, then started back toward the house. The leash went with him. Fortunately, he sat down by the front door and waited for her, tail thumping the frosty ground.

Angry and bruised, suffering from several drivers’ vented rage as cars swarmed around her, Peggy wasn’t in the mood to be lenient or moved by his cute face. “You’ve become a monster. We’re going to have to do something about this before you kill me.”

“Are you okay?” Steve reached her side.

Sam hid a smile behind his hand as he grabbed the dog’s leash to keep him from running any farther.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Peggy brushed herself off while Sam opened the door and took the dog in the house. She didn’t want to admit how bruised she already was from her long night in jail as she walked slowly into the house behind them.

Shakespeare galloped through the house to the kitchen and slid across the hardwood floors, waiting to be fed. She followed him past the thirty-foot blue spruce that grew in her foyer. “I have to do
something
with him.”

“I’m not surprised. What did you have in mind?” Steve asked. “I know a man who works on a freighter who would be glad to have him. Or we could volunteer him to be the first Great Dane in space.”

Peggy frowned. “That’s
not
what I mean. I like having him here. I just don’t want him to kill me. You’ve been preaching the gospel of obedience classes almost since I got him. I’m ready now. Where do I sign up?”

“I have a friend who gives classes. She’s really good. You’ll like her. She has a grooming salon over in the Ballantyne area, unless that’s too far for you. I’m sure she could find time to help you with Shakespeare.” He gave her the phone number. “Want me to go with you?”

“Thanks. But I think I can handle this. Selena will be at the shop in the morning. I’ll give Rue Baker a call.”

“You’re not teaching tomorrow?”

“Not until the afternoon.” She yawned. “Oh, sorry. I’m just exhausted.”

“No wonder, after you had to elude the police
and
save the world.” Sam laughed.

Steve glanced at her, then took a seat at the kitchen table. “I was wondering why you were late. Anything you’d care to share?”

“Sure.” Sam drew up a chair. “Picture these headlines: ‘Peggy vs. the Police.’ ”

“Don’t you have something to plant?” she asked him.

“Oh.” He looked at the two of them. “I suppose you’d like some time alone, huh? Three days apart. That’s a pretty long time. Even for you old folks.”

“Okay! Okay! I’m going. I’ll see you later, Steve. I’ll talk to you in the morning, Peggy.”

Steve waited until Sam was gone, then got slowly to his feet. “How about some dinner?”

“I’m too tired to go out,” she said. “Maybe tomorrow night.”

He moved to the fridge and took out a covered tray of cheese and veggies. “I thought you might be. I have this, some salad, bread, and an excellent bottle of sauvignon blanc. I thought we could take it into the basement and picnic beside the pond while you work on your plants. I know you’re not going to ignore
them
for a whole night after you’ve been gone.”

“You think of everything.” She smiled as she kissed him.

“And you can tell me what Sam was talking about.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, I think you’ll talk.” He opened a tray of mini éclairs.

“Brute!” She reached to grab one.

“Uh-uh. Start talking.” He re-covered the dessert. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

 

THE NEXT MORNING, PEGGY ate her breakfast and read the paper while Shakespeare ate in another corner of the kitchen. She was just pouring herself another cup of coffee when her son knocked on the kitchen door. “Come in, Paul. I’ve got a cup of coffee left. Have you had breakfast?”

“You know me.” He took off his regulation blue police jacket and hat, his thin frame appearing even narrower in the navy blue uniform. “I’m always hungry.” He chafed his hands together. “It’s cold out there. I thought it was supposed to be warming up.”

“We still have some cold weather left. You need some gloves.” She poured him the coffee and fished some powdered sugar donuts from the bread box. “Are you about to go on duty or just coming off?”

He sat down at the scrubbed wood table, tracing the tiny initials he’d carved into it as a child with his long, narrow fingers. Peggy gave him piano lessons when he was four with dreams of him being a concert pianist with those supple fingers. But Paul had other ideas. “About to go in. I thought I’d stop by and see how things are going. I would’ve stopped last night, but I thought Steve would probably want some time alone with you.”

Peggy sat down opposite him. “You aren’t still having trouble with the idea of Steve and me being together, are you?”

He shook his head as he sipped his coffee. “No. I like him, Mom. It was weird to begin with, but I’m handling it. I was trying to be considerate.”

Her cinnamon-colored brow raised above one clear, green eye so like her son’s. “Thank you. But you’re always welcome here. I’m glad you came this morning.”

He shoved a whole miniature donut into his mouth and kept talking. “I’ve been moonlighting. Mai and I have been seeing each other for a few months. We’re thinking about getting a place together. We need some extra cash. I’ve been doing some side jobs they offered at the precinct. You know, directing the Bojangles’ customers into the parking lot, doing some security work. That kind of thing.”

“That’s wonderful about you and Mai!” Since Peggy was the one who saw the initial attraction between Mai Sato, the young medical examiner’s assistant, and her son, she was especially gratified. Not many people she thought
should
be together ended up together. She squeezed his cold hand across the table. “But you don’t have to moonlight. I have some money. I’ll be glad to help.”

“We’re almost set, Mom. Thanks anyway. I want to show Mai how important this is to me. I’ve had a tough time convincing her to give up that little packing crate she calls an apartment.”

Peggy was very proud of his attitude but didn’t say so. She didn’t want to sound
too
lofty. She was only recently on secure footing with her only son who had her fiery hair, temper, and independent spirit. After his father’s death, they had some bad times together. Paul suddenly wanted to join the police department after studying to be an architect. She didn’t want him to get hurt, especially since she suspected he was only interested in finding John’s killer. “I just wanted to let you know I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Paul sipped his coffee with an awkward expression on his freckled face. “Anyway, we found a place on Providence Road. It’s a little bungalow house. We’re going to rent with an option to buy. Mai isn’t so sure about the buying part. I asked her to marry me. She turned me down. She said she might reconsider after we live together and share stuff for a while.”