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Authors: JOYCE AND JIM LAVENE

Pretty Poison (9 page)

BOOK: Pretty Poison
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A few people reminded her that they were already on her mailing list. Peggy apologized for not knowing them and took their names. She saw the brunette coming toward her. With a firm hand on her pen and a smile on her face, she greeted her.
The woman smiled. “I can’t think about that right now. I’ve had a personal loss. Maybe some other time.”
“I’m so sorry.” Peggy put away her pen and paper. “Are you here for flowers for the funeral?”
“Not exactly. We liked the courtyard and the stores here. We used to come over at lunchtime.” She spoke like she felt awkward talking about it and shifted her glance around the shop.
“That’s so romantic.” Peggy sighed. “My husband passed away two years ago. We were going to open this shop together but didn’t have the chance. He loved to garden. Did your husband enjoy plants?”
The expression on the woman’s face was almost comical. Her tone lowered a notch. “He wasn’t
my
husband. And that’s where the problem comes in with sending flowers to the funeral. If you know what I mean.”
“Oh! I
understand
. It happens. I could arrange to send something anonymously. That way,
he’ll
know you cared, but his wife won’t be suspicious.”
“I didn’t say he was married.” Her shoulders sagged, and she sighed. “But he was.”
Peggy touched her arm. “Of course he was. Or he would’ve been
your
husband, wouldn’t he, dear? I’m sure he was proud to be with you.”
“Thank you.” She took a deep breath as if to firm her resolve. “All right. I’d like to send something. You take Visa, don’t you?”
After their conversation, Peggy was certain that Ronda and Mark were having an affair. She helped the distraught woman pick out a lovely pot of cyclamen, explaining that it meant good-bye. After all, Ronda wasn’t interested in sympathizing with the widow so much as saying good-bye to her lover. Even though the transaction served her purpose, Peggy was still intent on helping her customer.
Twenty minutes later, Ronda McGee left the Potting Shed. After learning her name from her Visa, it only took Peggy two minutes to look her up on the Internet. She was married to Mark’s boss at Bank of America, Bob McGee.
She called Al right away and left him a message. She didn’t know if the information would help him. He probably already knew about Ronda. But she wasn’t going to take any chances with Mr. Cheever’s life.
Sam called in a few minutes later. “I talked to Brenda and Dawn today. Both of them have their keys. How about the cleaning and bug people?”
“They’re fine. I knew they would be. But something interesting happened.” Peggy picked up the Visa receipt. “The brunette who was in here with Mark before he died came by and ordered some flowers for his funeral.”
“Did you ask if she has a key?”
She laughed at him. “No, I didn’t. Did you take that key to Mai?”
“Yeah. She was okay. I got my fingerprints made. I saw Paul. He grunted at me and left right away.”
“That’s my son. What did Mai say about the key you found?”
“She didn’t say much of anything. The prints on it were blurred. She didn’t think they could get anything from it and didn’t seem to think it meant much. But she kept it anyway.”
“Check with Keeley tonight. You have that delivery to make to South Park Mall, don’t you?”
“More pansies, right? Yeah. I’ll be glad when autumn’s over. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. We can compare notes.”
Peggy hung up and glanced at the big clock by the door. It was almost six p.M. Time to close up. The shop looked empty, but their new policy was to walk through and check it out. Maybe they could avoid any other unpleasant surprises.
The courtyard outside was deserted. The lights had been on for an hour already with the early fall twilight. She saw Emil and Sofia locking up for the night and hurried out to catch them.
Sofia put her heavily ringed hand to her throat as Peggy approached them. Her dark eyes widened dramatically. “You startled me! After that murder, who knows what to expect?”
“Sorry,” Peggy said. “I needed to talk to you a minute.”
“I took a precaution anyway.” Emil brought out a huge handgun and pointed the barrel in Peggy’s face.
“Stupid!” Sofia slapped his hand.
Peggy’s knees shook. It wasn’t bad enough he had the gun in her face, Sofia had to surprise him!
“What?” He put the gun away. “I was only showing her.”
“You were showing everyone else, too! You want the robbers and murderers to know you’re armed?” Sofia slapped him again. “You’re such an idiot sometimes.”
“A gun is dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing,” Peggy managed to say in a strangled voice. “John worked a few cases where the person breaking in took the gun away from the homeowner and shot him with it.”
“It’s not loaded,” Emil assured her. “It’s just to scare the bad guys. They don’t know I won’t kill them dead.”
“If you meet one, you’ll be forced into showing him what you’ll do,” Peggy answered.
“Did you want something important?” Sofia asked her, tapping her foot impatiently.
“I was wondering if you still have the key to my shop.”
“Sure.” Emil took the key out and showed her. It was attached to a ring that held at least fifty keys, but he went to it without hesitation. “Did you lose yours?”
Peggy explained about the key they found behind the shop. Emil grumbled about people being careless and asked to see the key he gave her for his shop. Sofia complained about standing in the cold courtyard.
“Thanks anyway,” Peggy said. “I guess I’ll go and close up now.”
“You want us to wait for you?” Emil offered.
“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow.”
Music from the French restaurant kitty-corner from the Potting Shed spilled out into the empty courtyard. The wind swept away a few sandwich wrappers left behind by careless diners. Peggy shivered in the chill and hurried back into her shop.
If the last two days weren’t enough to put her on edge, Emil’s gun in her face did the trick. She felt like going into a closet, locking the door, and cowering in the corner. She didn’t want to think about what could’ve happened if the gun was loaded.
She pulled the old-fashioned shade down on the door, then turned the key in the lock and switched off the light. Her bike was in back, but she was thinking about keeping it behind the front counter in the future. The darkness waiting for her by the loading dock wasn’t very appealing, especially since one of the back lights burned out that evening.
Peggy wrote a note to remember to ask the maintenance people to replace the light and put it on the front counter. She wasn’t a high-strung person by nature, but surely anyone would feel a little frazzled in her place.
Footsteps on the hardwood floor caught her attention. Panicking, she realized she’d left the door unlocked while she was with the Balduccis. She glanced behind her, looking for something to defend herself with. Her gaze fell on a rake a customer forgot to take with him. With nothing else in easy reach, she held the implement in front of her and waited for the footsteps to reach the front of the shop.
“Peggy?”
It was Julie Warner. Peggy’s heart rate decreased, she put the rake down, and the words tumbled out of her mouth, “What are you doing here?” Realizing how rude the question sounded, she rephrased it as she turned the light back on. “Julie. I’m surprised to see you here.”
Always well-dressed, the widow looked chic and tiny in her elegant black suit. She wore a Jackie Kennedy pillbox-style hat with a black veil that covered her face. “I’m sorry if I startled you. I thought you saw me come in while you were outside.”
“No, I didn’t. But that’s okay. I thought the shop was empty. What can I do for you?”
Julie’s face was very pale behind the black webbing, but her tone was resolute. “I want to see where it happened.”
Peggy debated with herself. Was it an odd request? What should she say? “Mark was right here when I came in.” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as awkward as she felt.
“Where
exactly
?”
This probably wasn’t healthy. But didn’t she walk by the spot where John was killed? “I’ll show you.”
Julie followed her soundlessly to the colorful rag rug that hid the bloodstain on the floor. Peggy didn’t plan to show her that part. “He was right here. Facedown in a basket of bulbs. The police took everything around him for evidence. This is all that was left.”
The widow didn’t move or speak. She stared at the spot like she could see through the rug to where her husband’s lifeblood had pooled. Then she took a deep breath and reached a black-gloved hand into her pocketbook.
Peggy jumped back and put her hands up in a defensive stance.
Julie looked at her strangely as she withdrew her checkbook. “Is something wrong, Peggy? I’d like to reimburse you for the damages. It wasn’t your fault this happened. You shouldn’t be hurt by it.”
“Sorry. It’s been a long day.” She lowered her hands and felt like an idiot. But after Emil’s gun . . .
“I understand. And I apologize for getting here so late. There were so many arrangements to be made, people to call. I came as soon as I could.”
“That’s all right. Don’t worry about the expenses, Julie, please. My insurance will take care of it. I’m glad you came. I felt the same way when my husband was killed. I couldn’t be there with him when it happened. I just wanted to see the place.”
Julie put her checkbook away and smiled. “I appreciate your kindness. You know what I’ve gone through with this since it happened to you, too. The press is terrible. My children don’t understand. It’s like the world has turned upside down, and it’s all I can do to keep from falling off.”
Peggy couldn’t help herself. She hugged Julie, expensive suit, veil, and all. She might be wealthy, but that didn’t protect her from tragedy. It was like holding a child; she was so small, so fragile.
Both women were wiping tears away as they separated. Julie straightened her hat and cleared her throat. Peggy blew her nose on a tissue, then put her hands in her pockets.
“I should go.” Julie moved toward the door.
“If there’s anything I can do . . .”
“Thank you. I hope you’ll come to the funeral.”
Peggy unlocked the front door. “I’ll try. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
When Julie was gone, Peggy locked the front door again. She walked through the shop, holding the rake like a weapon. But this time, she was alone. Quickly, she turned off the light and locked the back door behind her.
She was tempted to call a taxi. Her hands were shaking, and her knees felt weak. She probably needed to go across the courtyard and have a big glass of wine to steady herself. But she refused to give in to her trauma. Like everything else, fear was meant to be handled head-on. She wasn’t good at cowering.
She forced herself to get on her bike despite the eerie shadows and creaking sounds from the loading dock. Then she realized it was after seven. Steve was going to have further proof that she was always late. The thought gave her impetus to pedal faster down the busy streets.
“I’m so sorry,” she said as she rode into her driveway.
Steve got out of his car when he saw her. “That’s okay. I wasn’t about to eat the car interior or anything. You don’t drive?”
“I do. I mean, I have a license and a car. But I prefer using the bike to get around the city. I’m close to the school and my shop. I don’t need to contribute to the problem of global warming.”
“That’s right. You teach botany, specialize in botanical poisons,
and
run a garden shop. No wonder you’re always late.”
She stowed her bike in the garage. “I’m not
always
late. But despite you impugning my integrity, I’m willing to apologize for being late tonight by making dinner for you.”
He smiled at her. “I won’t turn down a home-cooked meal. Although I think I should point out in my own defense that I
did
offer to buy you dinner.”
“You did?” She tried not to notice how her pulse fluctuated at his words. “I thought I was buying
you
dinner for taking care of the dog.”
His face was shadowed, but there was laughter in his voice. “And here I was fooling myself all day that you thought I was attractive and you couldn’t wait to go out with me.”
Peggy was glad for the shadows as she felt a blush come over her face. She searched in her pocketbook for her keys and told herself to calm down. “Speaking of the dog, how is he?”
“Were we talking about the dog? Okay. I can take a hint. The dog seems to be fine. He’s undernourished and needs to gain some weight, but he mostly looks bad. His body is basically sound. I think he needs a good home.”
“I’m willing to provide that until I can find his owner. I’m going to print up some flyers tonight and put them out tomorrow. He’s an expensive dog. Somebody must be missing him.”
“Maybe,” Steve said. “But did you notice that his ears aren’t cropped? If he was pedigreed, the chances are his owner would’ve taken care of that. He’s definitely not a show dog. He doesn’t recognize any commands. If you’re going to keep him, you’ll have to have him trained.”
She finally got the front door open. “I don’t plan on keeping him that long. As you noticed, I’m pretty busy. I don’t have time for a dog.”
“Then you plan to nurse him back to health so you can give him to the pound and they can put him to sleep?”
“Are you always so absolute?” Peggy let him walk by her, then shut the door.
“Are you always so optimistic?”
She turned on the lights in the foyer.
“Wow!” He looked up at the blue spruce. “Are you getting ready for Christmas?”
For a moment, Peggy panicked. How could she do this? Everything that meant something to her and John was around her. How could she let another man into her life? How could she explain all those things she and John thought were special? Steve, or any other man, would probably think she was crazy. She could argue with herself that she wasn’t attracted to Steve that way. But she knew it wasn’t true.
BOOK: Pretty Poison
7.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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