Pretty Poison (7 page)

The door to the office burst open. “Mom? I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

Peggy glanced up at her son. “Hello Paul! I know how to get to see you now. Have a murder at my shop.”

Paul Lee was tall and slender like his father. But his red hair and freckles came from his mother. He had her green eyes and delicate nose. He smiled less often, especially since his father’s death. “I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Hogwash! Give me a hug.” She caught him close to her. He squirmed away almost as soon as she hugged him. “I managed to see your father, even though he walked a beat.”

“That was different.”

There’d been a rift developing between them since John died. She opposed Paul joining the police department. He’d wanted to be an architect until his father was killed. They argued about his decision. Paul moved out on his own only a month after John’s death and then became a police officer. Peggy felt like he was looking for revenge. “Never mind. I’m glad to see you anyway.”

He lowered his voice. “So why are you here?”

She laughed. “I came to pump Mai for information.”

Mai took off her heavy glasses, smiled, and shook her head.

He glanced at her. “I didn’t notice you there.”

“What else is new?”

“Don’t give her a rough time, huh?” Paul demanded.

“Grow up!” Mai growled. “I only do my job!”

“Whatever! Can I see you out here for a minute when you’re finished, Mom?”

Paul walked out. Peggy noticed Mai watching him. “You know him well?”

“No! Thank goodness! I see him around from time to time, that’s all. I’m sorry, Dr. Lee, but he’s a jerk.”

Mai wasn’t watching Paul like she thought he was a jerk. The young forensics officer seemed pretty interested in him. “Only my students call me Dr. Lee. My friends call me Peggy.”

“Thanks.” Mai glanced at the open doorway. “Maybe he’s still grieving. Maybe that’s why he’s such a jerk.”

“I’d like to think so. But I’m not really sure.”

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be talking about him that way.”

“No, that’s all right. He’s my son, and I love him, but no one’s perfect.”

“Has he always been so . . . ?”

“Difficult?” Peggy queried. “Yes. I’m afraid so. Worse since his father died. He looks like me, but he has his father’s moodiness. He was devastated when John was killed.”

“Are you finished with her yet?” Paul looked in from the doorway. “She’s answering questions voluntarily. I hope you’ve noted that.”

“I have,” Mai answered belligerently. “And after meeting her, I don’t know what happened to
you
!”

Paul’s face turned red, but he recovered quickly. “Save the sarcasm. I’m getting my mother out of here. Anything else, you’ll have to contact her attorney.”

Peggy glanced at him. “But I don’t have an attorney, honey.”

“Maybe you should get one,” Mai warned. “We don’t know how this is going to end up yet. And you
were
the one who found the body.”

Peggy sighed and got to her feet. “We’ll see. Thanks for your help anyway.”

“Any time.”

“Come over here,” Paul invited his mother, closing Mai’s office door with a loud bang.

She followed him into an unoccupied office.

“You shouldn’t be here.” He closed the door behind them.

“I wanted to know what they found out,” she defended. “The dead man was in
my
shop.”

“Look, Mom, this is embarrassing enough without you making it worse!”

“
Embarrassing?”

“Yes.” Paul’s pacing was hampered by the tiny room stuffed full of furniture. “What do you think it’s like with people knowing my mother found a dead man in her garden shop? Mark Warner, of all people, for God’s sake!”

“You can hardly blame me for what other people think.”

“I know that. And I don’t blame you. But being here only makes it worse.”

“In what way?”

“What do you think everyone will say when they know you were here asking Mai for details?”

Peggy shrugged. “That I was interested?”

“Look, Mom, stay out of it! Go home. Let everyone do their job! You were married to a detective, but that doesn’t make you one.”

She looked at her son’s handsome face. “I’m going home. Well, actually, I’m going home
after
my class. For now anyway. But if I have a chance to solve even a small part of the puzzle, I will.”

“Mom—”

“I’ll talk to you later, Paul.”

“
Mom!”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry so much. Come by, and I’ll make you supper one night.”

“Dad always said you were too stubborn for your own good.”

“I love you, too!”

Peggy showed herself out of the station after getting some water from the drinking fountain to use on the ficus. She half expected Paul to come out screaming after her. When he didn’t, she took a deep breath and unlocked the chain on her bicycle. She glanced at her watch. It was eleven-thirty. The air was delicious with the smell of frying onions and peppers from the uptown sidewalk vendors. It made her stomach growl, reminding her that she only had tea for breakfast. She had just enough time to go home for lunch before her class.

 

 

THE WIND WAS BRISK and cold, but she welcomed it in her face as she pedaled into her driveway past the Chinese fountain and the frostbitten crape myrtles. She’d come to like having the four distinct seasons in Charlotte. Growing up at the coast, there was summer and a cool month. Then it was summer again. Or at least it seemed that way to her as a child.

“Good morning, Clarice,” she called to her neighbor.

“Morning, Peggy!” the other woman greeted her. “I was wondering if you could tell me how close I should trim these roses? Last year, I think I trimmed too close, and they didn’t do so well. John was always such a dear to help me with them, bless his soul.”

“It’s probably not how close you trimmed them.” Peggy leaned her bike against the house, then walked around the neat wood fence that separated their yards. She ignored the little tug on her heart at the reminder that John was gone. “Give them plenty of lime and make sure they have enough water. They should do fine in a sunny place like this.”

“Thanks, Peggy!” The neighbor’s inquisitive eyes roamed over the shiny red bike. “You know, it’s not safe for a woman your age to be riding up and down the streets on that thing. When are you going to start driving again?”

“After I finish the hydrogen conversion.”

“Excuse me?” Clarice looked at her like she had two heads. “What are you talking about?”

She started to explain about her project converting her father-in-law’s 1940 Rolls-Royce from a gas-burning pig to a more polite hydrogen-fueled vehicle. A sudden commotion in the backyard stopped her. Clarice’s tiny toy poodle was barking like something was ripping him to shreds.

“Poopsie?” Clarice ran toward her dog, the effort straining her brightly flowered slacks.

Peggy ran after her. The apricot-colored poodle was dyed to match Clarice’s hair. It was no bigger than a large squirrel, but it had cornered something in the garden. It was difficult to tell what it was. Even though it was massive compared to the poodle, the other animal was balled up in fright against the side of the fence.

“What is that
thing
? What the hell
is
that?” Clarice began to scream, staying a good distance away from the fray. She reached in her pocket for her cell phone.

Peggy shooed Poopsie away from the creature. She took off her purple cape and tossed it over the animal. She wasn’t sure what her reasoning was except that it appeared to be wet and cold. Immediately, a huge square head popped up. Big brown eyes looked at her in question, and the animal let out a long, low howl.

“Yes! I need animal control! There’s something in my yard trying to kill my dog!” Clarice stuttered over the words as she tried to get help from 911.

“It’s a dog, Clarice. I think it’s a Great Dane. But it’s just a dog.”

“I don’t care what it is, Peggy. I want someone to come and shoot it and get it out of my yard.”

While Clarice waited on hold, Peggy went closer to the whimpering dog. Poopsie continued to yap and growl until she told him to hush. She wasn’t a dog lover. But she could see the creature was scared and in pain. “Easy, boy. Or girl. Whichever you are. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Clarice shrieked. “Don’t touch that thing! It could take off your whole arm. I don’t know if my homeowner’s insurance will cover you being bitten by a stray dog in my yard.”

But Peggy didn’t listen. She crept in close to the animal. He laid his head down and let her stroke his matted coat. His thin hair was tan, and his muzzle was black. His ears weren’t cropped like most Great Danes. They hung down on the sides of his head. She could count his ribs. His hip-bone protruded under his wet coat. As she touched him, a long tongue snaked out to lick her hand.

“They’re on their way.” Clarice closed the sequin-studded phone. “Will you
please
get away from that thing?”

“It’s just a dog. He’s scared and starving.”

“And likely to eat Poopsie! Leave him alone until the animal control people get here.”

Peggy moved away from the dog. He struggled to his feet and lurched after her.

Clarice screamed, grabbed up her dog, and ran into the house.

“You
are
pretty intimidating,” Peggy told the Great Dane. He was rail thin, but his shoulder came past her waist. She wasn’t sure how he had the strength to stand. “I have to go now. I’m sorry.”

She started walking back toward her house. The dog followed. She stopped and looked at him. “You don’t understand. I really don’t have time for a dog. I’m sure the animal control people will find you a good home.”

The dog whimpered and shook his head, his huge ears flapping up and down.

“I know. Those places are better at putting an animal out of its misery.” She looked into the dog’s eyes. “You must belong to someone. Maybe if I could keep you alive for a while, I could find your owner. But it’s only for a few days. I’ll ask around. If no one claims you, you’re on your own.”

Clarice rushed to meet the animal control truck as it pulled into her driveway. Between loud sobs and Poopsie’s barking, she managed to tell the driver what happened.

While she was crying and thanking him for coming, Peggy got the Great Dane to follow her. She sneaked around through her garden and into her neighbor’s yard on the opposite side. A few years back, a retired veterinarian lived two doors down. She wasn’t sure if he was still there. But if she could get the dog to him, he might be able to help her.

The dog followed her silently. Peggy glanced back at him and wondered if she’d lost her mind. What was she going to do with a dog the size of a small pony?

While the animal control man scoured the neighborhood, Peggy knocked frantically on what she hoped was the veterinarian’s door. When it opened, she shoved the dog into the house and followed quickly, slamming the door behind her.

“Can I help you?”

She looked at the man who’d answered the door. It was the man in the green Saturn. “I’m sorry. I must have the wrong house. I’m looking for Dr. Newsome, the old veterinarian. I think he used to live here. I came to one of his Christmas parties a few years back.”

“I’m Dr. Newsome, and I’m a vet.” He smiled at her. “You didn’t look at my card, did you?”

Nice smile
. “No, I’m sorry. I forgot about it. You’re not as old as I remember. Or that wassail punch was stronger than I thought.”

“I’m
Steve
Newsome. You’re probably thinking about my uncle, Jack. He was a vet, too. He died last year.”

She felt like a complete idiot. “I’m sorry I barged in here like this. I found this dog, and I’m trying to get him away from the animal control people.”

He crouched down and patted the Great Dane’s head. “Is
that
what this is? He’s a mess. Maybe someone
should
put him out of his misery.”

“No! I’m sure he must belong to someone. He probably wandered off. I don’t want to be responsible for getting someone’s dog killed.”

“I was only joking, Peggy. I’ll take a look at him. My uncle always kept a small exam room and supplies in case of an emergency. I think this bag of bones qualifies as an emergency.”

She was surprised he knew her name until she recalled that he was at her lecture. “You were at the auditorium yesterday.”

“I’m flattered you noticed! I was there because I get so many cases of animals poisoned by plants. I’d like to learn more about the subject.”

“Well, Dr. Newsome—”

“Please call me Steve. We’ve bumped into each other so many times, I feel like I know you.”

Her heart fluttered a little, but she maintained her look of skeptical indifference. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with my face being on television and in the newspaper, would it?”

He laughed. “Not at all. Although the case has made for some interesting reading. I’m sure it was terrible for you to find that dead man in your shop.”

“I’ve had better days.” She glanced at her watch. “Can I leave him with you for a while? I have to teach a class, and I’m already late.”

“Sure. No problem.” He studied her face. “Are you always late?”

Her face turned red.
Stop that! You’re blushing like a schoolgirl. Get a grip!
“Oh, you mean the lecture. Actually, I’m usually very punctual. The last few days have been hectic. Now this!”

He ran his hand across the dog’s back. “Would it be a bad time to ask you out to dinner?”

“I, uh, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know about dinner with me or if it’s a bad time?”

Peggy wasn’t sure about either one. But he
was
going to take care of the dog for her. She supposed she could buy him dinner. Where would the harm be in that? “Dinner would be fine.”