Poisoned Petals (14 page)

Sales had been picking up since mid-April. It was the end of May, and the trend showed no sign of reversal. She knew it didn’t mean they wouldn’t have some slow time over the long, hot summer. But she hoped the new contracts they negotiated for landscaping services would carry them through. She wasn’t desperate, but she was still a little worried.

The Potting Shed was still a toddler. She knew the first five years were critical to a business, just like a child. She didn’t want to rush into early retirement from the university only to feel the pinch of financial strain.

But there were only so many hours in the day. The Potting Shed was taking up more and more time. She loved her work there as well as the side projects she took on for various friends and associates in her field. She believed those, plus her speaking fees as a poisonous plants expert, would carry her through. But that didn’t do anything for the large butterflies in her stomach.

Emil and Sofia disappeared out the door after her parents, but they returned at three with bagel sandwiches and tea. The shop had cleared out by then, leaving Peggy and Selena straightening up and replacing stock. The Balduccis glanced around as they entered through the heavy glass and wood door. “Where is everyone?”

Peggy looked up from trying to remove some gum from a box of fertilizer spikes. Small hands probably put it there while the child’s mother or father was browsing. “The lunch rush is finally over.”

“Thank God!” Selena sighed from behind a shelf of plant stakes.

“No. Your parents,” Sofia explained. “Where are they?”

“Probably still at the mall.”

Emil and Sofia exchanged meaningful glances. Sofia rolled her expressive eyes. “You think that is such a good idea? After all, they didn’t take to Steve too well, did they?”

“I think it will be fine.” Peggy refused to let them make her any more paranoid than she already was. “The food looks good!”

Emil and Sofia both sighed heavily, and Sofia crossed herself. “Did I ever tell you about my great-aunt Baba? Heaven forbid you should end up like her.”

Selena whispered to Peggy, “Here we go again.”

“My great-aunt Baba on my mother’s side was very independent. She owned a big house and a fine vineyard.”

“It’s true.” Emil validated his wife’s story. “She even had a big car. I think it was a Buick.”

“Baba only had one fault. She couldn’t pick a good man. Time after time my family watched her pick the worst of the bunch. Until finally my uncle Savio on my father’s side said, ‘Baba I will pick out a good man for you.’ That’s all it took. Sometimes we can’t see what’s best for us, Peggy. Sometimes we have to rely on our family and friends, you know?”

The phone rang, and Peggy ran to get it, grateful to get away from yet another parable that closely resembled her life.

“Don’t leave me here!” Selena ran after her. “I’m sure you need help answering the phone.”

Sofia crossed herself again. “May none of us know a death alone.”

Selena shook her head, blond/brown curls bouncing from her ponytail. “I’m going for a little walk, Peggy, before they launch into the next story. This is too weird for me.”

Peggy wished she could go with her, but already two new browsers were in the shop. Sofia began her new tale of woe. Peggy hoped her browsers would become buyers before she had to run screaming from the shop as well.

At four, Peggy put in a call to her friend, Detective Al McDonald, on the Charlotte Police Department. She didn’t plan to tell him everything, but she had to start somewhere. She needed some answers. There were pockets of questions in her mind
before
she talked to Nightflyer. Now that she knew Darmus wasn’t in his coffin, there were whole chasms.

She could only speculate on what happened until she had some firm answers. It looked like the man she rescued from the burning house was made to look like Darmus. Someone, wanted him to be mistaken for Darmus.

And what about the police? They weren’t going to like the fact that a mistake was made in Darmus’s identity. How far were they supposed to go to identify a man who was clearly who he was supposed to be? And who
was
the dead man she dragged from the house?

Peggy fingered Darmus’s ring in the pocket of her jeans. Was Luther going to give Darmus his ring back the day he was killed in the garden? Could the two brothers have been working together?

Luther acted strangely that day in the hospital. She couldn’t help but recall his speech in Albemarle. With Darmus’s death, a man of God
had
become the head of Feed America. Could Luther somehow have influenced Darmus to fake his own death so Luther could run Feed America?

If so, it was short-lived. Now Luther was dead, too. Was he killed because he’d taken Darmus’s place? How much money was involved in Feed America anyway? And who would take Luther’s place?

DETECTIVE AL MCDONALD, a broad-faced black man who’d been her husband’s partner for twenty years on the job, finally stopped in to see her a little after five. Selena was gone for the day, taking extra credit classes to add to her engineering courses for fall.

“Peggy!” Al embraced her and smiled down into her face. “How’s it going?”

“Good! My parents are up for a visit. How’s Mary?”

“Still waiting for me to retire.” He chuckled, talking about his wife of many years. “I might have my time in, but I don’t see anything else waiting for me up the road. I’ll probably stay where I am until I can’t get around anymore and they kick me out.”

She laughed. “Can I get you something to drink? I think I have some Coke in the mini-fridge.”

“No, that’s fine.” He planted his large frame on a stool behind the counter. “I got your message. What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure.” She told him what Nightflyer said about Darmus.

He groaned. “Not that weird guy on the Internet again! Peggy, how would he know if Darmus is dead or not? Have you asked yourself that question? I mean, was he in the hospital or something?”

“I don’t know.” She didn’t want to tell him about her excursion to the funeral home. There might be some unpleasant repercussions. Was it illegal to open a sealed coffin? Even worse, he might not believe her. It would be better to convince him to check it out on his own. “All I
do
know is that he knows things. He has ways of finding things out.”

“Like what? I mean, what does he think happened?”

“He thinks Darmus might have faked his own death.”

Al’s thick black brows raised above skeptical dark eyes. “That’s ridiculous! You and I both know what kind of man Darmus was. He wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“But—”

“And even if he would, don’t you think someone would’ve noticed? A doctor saw him at the hospital. The ME examined him at the morgue. The mortician has him now. Wouldn’t someone have noticed the dead man wasn’t Darmus Appleby?”

“He was badly burned.”

“They checked his dental records! The man we’re about to bury
was
Darmus Appleby!”

Peggy’s forehead knitted together. “Don’t you think I’ve argued with myself about this? But there are a few things that bother me.”

“Like what?”

She told him what she recalled about Darmus feeling cold when she tried to move him. “And he was supposed to be buried with his wedding band. Why would Luther have it in his hand at the Community Garden when he died?”

“Maybe he was taking it to the mortician to have it put back on Darmus. Did you ever think about that?”

“No.” She bit her lip to keep from spilling what she found in the bronze coffin. She needed to talk to someone, in a roundabout way, and find out how the law felt about opening coffins. She wanted to find Darmus, but she didn’t want to go to jail.

“Think about it, Peggy. You told this Internet guy those things, and he fueled that overactive imagination of yours!”

“Thanks.” She frowned and moved to the other side of the counter, shifting seed packages and pot stickers shaped like fairies.

“I’m sorry,” he relented. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yes. You did!”

He looked down at his shiny black shoes. “Look, Peggy. Is there any scrap of
real
evidence that us normal mortals can understand?”

She started to blow him off. He wasn’t listening anyway. But she knew this might be her only chance to get more information. “I think there may be. Darmus wasn’t himself since Rebecca died.”

“That’s true. But that doesn’t mean he ran away and pretended to die.”

“The corpse in the house was disfigured. Anyone could make a mistake.”

“Dental records don’t lie.”

She couldn’t argue with that and pressed on. “Nightflyer thinks it may not have been an accident that Luther died. I don’t know, Al. I just have this feeling that he’s right, and something
is
wrong.”

He closed his eyes. “I don’t want Darmus to be dead either, Peggy. But trust me, someone would’ve noticed during the long chain his body passed through. Maybe he wasn’t Elvis or someone instantly recognizable, but this kind of thing doesn’t happen. There was blood work, dental work. The dead man is Darmus Appleby, sad as that may be. We have to accept the fact.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She sighed and glanced around the familiar walls hung with old garden signs and antique farming implements.
Oh God! I’m going to have to tell him the truth.
Then she thought of something else. “I suppose it doesn’t make sense. But for my own peace of mind, could you get me a copy of Darmus and Luther’s death certificates?”

“Peggy!” He rolled to his big feet as he shook his head. “I can’t get those for you. They haven’t been released for public record yet.”

“Could you at least find out what Luther died from? Holles Harwood was Darmus’s
and
Luther’s assistant. He said Luther was having some heart problems. Luther didn’t say anything to me about it, but Holles saw more of him than I did.”

He looked at his cell phone that was buzzing loudly. “I’ll check into what killed Darmus and Luther. But that’s
all
I’m doing.”

“Thanks, Al.”

“Have you thought any more about the ME’s offer to hire you on contract? I know it would only be as needed, but since you’re thinking about giving up your job at Queens, I thought you might want to consider it.”

Peggy wasn’t sure what to say. The unexpected job offer to work as a contract forensic botanist for the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department was still rolling around in her head. “I’m still thinking about it. But right now, the Potting Shed is pretty busy. I have to keep up with it. And I’m not sure if I like the idea of working with dead bodies. It seems a little strange for a botanist who deals with life to help the police sort out facts about dead people.”

Al looked skeptical. “You seem to like to do that fairly well on your own! Anyway, think about it. I’ll talk to you later. Say hello to your parents for me.”

“I will.”

“I’ll let you know when I find out what the ME listed as COD for both brothers.”

“I appreciate it. Are you going to Darmus’s memorial service?”

He hugged her in his massive arms. “I wouldn’t miss it. Want to drive over with me and Mary?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“And Peggy? Stay out of trouble, huh?”

When Al was gone, Peggy walked through the store, straightening shelves that didn’t need straightening, wondering where Steve was with her parents. She’d expected them to be back sooner. She was reluctant to call him and find out. Instead she pictured all kinds of things going wrong, like her mother walking down Concord Mills Boulevard with a bag of Off Broadway shoes under her arm because she got mad at Steve and refused to get into his car.

She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous about her parents spending time with Steve. He was a great guy. They couldn’t find fault with him.
Except he’s seven years younger than you.

She wasn’t sure where that voice came from, but it had been with her since she was small. It made her turn herself in when she was the one who painted a mustache on the Confederate Soldier Memorial, and it kept telling her that her skirt was too short the night of her first date with John.

She suspected her mother had it grafted to her brain when she was born to keep her on the right path. But she also thought it would have been gone by now. How old did she have to be before it faded away?

It turned out to be fortunate for her that Steve and her parents were late when the owners of a luxury uptown condominium complex came in to discuss whether the Potting Shed could take care of their atrium and garden areas.