Killing Weeds (14 page)

“We hope that evidence is forthcoming,” Steve said. “Because I’m pursuing this with the full blessing of the FBI, I’ve been in contact with the CMPD. They’re still working the case against Paul for Ms. Honohan’s death, but the shop and our break-in here is different.”

Everyone seemed to take a deep breath at the same time.

“I called Al today because I thought of someone on my suspect list that would be capable of everything that has happened,” she told them. “Do you remember Ruth Sargent? It seems to me that she’d be the only one who knew me intimately enough to wreak such havoc. But Al checked. Ruth died in prison last year.”

Steve frowned, remembering the case. “I agree that she’s the perfect suspect—except for that—but death is hard to come back from. Did she have any family that you know of?”

“No. She never married. Never had any children. She wasn’t even close with her family when she was in college.”

“It still might be worth looking into.” Steve took out his phone. “Excuse me.”

Ranson squeezed Peggy’s hand. “Steady. It’s gonna get better.”

She smiled and went to let Shakespeare back inside. She went through the basement and checked on her plants. She heard Sam come in upstairs and went to see him. Shakespeare followed her, sniffing at her shoes.

Maybe she was feeling down, but Sam was jubilant. He was so proud of himself that he’d managed to sell most of the plants he’d ordered.

“We should go out for supper,” he exclaimed. “To celebrate.”

Lilla agreed. “I love that idea.”

Ranson shook his head. “I don’t know if anyone else is feeling up to that, son. I know you’ve had a great day, but the rest of us are kind of in the swamp, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” Sam sat at the table. “I suppose so.”

“No,” Peggy disagreed. “Sam’s right. We should all go out for dinner, and then I’m going to The Kozy Kettle to hold my garden club meeting.”

“Is that a good idea, Margaret?” her mother asked.

“I think both ideas are great,” Peggy said. “We can’t let this person ruin our lives.”

Ranson shrugged, still uncertain.

By the time Steve came back from asking for an in-depth search to be done on Ruth Sargent, it was decided. They sat at the kitchen table, talking about everything, until Paul and Al got back. Peggy had already invited Millie and Hunter to meet them at the restaurant.

Steve and Al weren’t thrilled with the idea, but it would’ve been hard to get through the enthusiasm that had built up. They went along with it—grudgingly—Al called Mary to join them. Paul called Mai, and Sam called his boyfriend, Tucker.

At five-thirty, they all got in their vehicles and agreed to meet at the restaurant on South Boulevard. It was in the new area, where the trolley had first been brought back. It was the only place Peggy could think of that was big enough to hold all of them.

It had been foresight that had made Steve call ahead. The restaurant didn’t take reservations, but he and Peggy were good customers. They prepared a side room for them that normally was used for business meetings.

Hunter was waiting when they got there. She was surprised to see how big a group it was. “I wish I could’ve asked Luke, but I didn’t want him to feel awkward with the rest of us talking about working around the police investigation. So I’m solo, all you married people. Just don’t talk to each other.”

Peggy laughed and linked her arm through Hunter’s. “See? I won’t even sit next to Steve.”

“Why do I have to pay for Hunter’s boyfriend not being here?” Steve asked.

Lilla put her arm through his. “Never mind them. You can sit next to me and tell me tons of exciting FBI tales.”

Steve’s expression was pained when he spared a glance at Peggy, but he smiled and held the chair for his mother-in-law. “I’m sure I can accommodate that request. I don’t know many exciting stories. It seems like most of my time with the FBI has been spent on stakeouts and research.”

Everyone took their places around the long table. Sam arrived with Tucker. He introduced the young man to everyone who didn’t know him. Tucker nodded his head in their directions, his longish brown hair falling into his face. He sometimes helped Sam at The Potting Shed with his brilliant water features.

Al got there with Mary at the same time as Paul and Mai arrived. They did the introductions around the table as Millie arrived with Norris.

Peggy looked at her menu, trying not to feel disappointed that Steve’s associate had come too. He might be annoying, she reminded herself, but he was still someone Steve worked with and trusted. He couldn’t invite Millie without Norris—unless Norris hadn’t been there when he called.

With so many people in the room, they did the best they could to help the three waiters who took their orders for drinks while they tried to decide what to eat. The restaurant’s primary menu was Italian. One of the waiters convinced them to do a family-style meal which would be several courses that would serve everyone.

The group quickly agreed as the drinks were brought to the table and the waiters went to get everything set up.

“I guess there must be good news,” Mai said cheerfully as she held Rosie.

There was silence around the table until Sam spoke up. “There was good news for me today. The police were finally convinced that none of the plants we had delivered to Peggy’s house were giant hogweed. And I convinced several of our best customers to buy the bushes and plants I’d ordered for the fake Mary Hood.”

Silence fell again when he was done speaking.

Finally Ranson held up his glass. “Here! Here! After a day like today, it’s good to celebrate something. Right, Margaret?”

Peggy held up her glass too. “That’s right. I’m drinking to Sam and his hard work. Thank you for being my partner.”

Everyone talked for a few minutes as the salad course was served in three big bowls with dozens of small bottles of salad dressing.

Mai still looked unhappy. “But no good news about this crazy woman who’s done so much damage to us?”

“No. Not yet.” Steve said. “We’re working on it.”

Al agreed. “Good police work takes time, Mai. You have to be patient. I shouldn’t have to tell you about it with the painstaking work you do.”

She agreed with a nod and took a sip of her cold, sweet tea.

The double doors opened into the meeting room again. Three waiters came in with pitchers to refresh their drinks, and trays of warm breadsticks.

But Captain Hager and several CMPD officers followed in right behind them.

“What a nice family scene,” Hager remarked with a smile. “Sorry to bust this up, but I have a warrant for the arrest of Paul Lee.”

Bamboo

Bamboo is one of the fastest-growing plants on earth. It can grow thirty inches in a 24-hour period in some areas. It is used for building materials and food in Asia. Bamboo is stronger than wood, brick, or concrete, and its tensile strength is comparable to steel.

Chapter Twenty-one

“What?” Mai demanded in a shrill voice, waking Rosie and making her cry.

“Let me see that.” Hunter snatched the warrant from Captain Hager.

“They found something else,” Peggy whispered to her father. “Something we missed.”

“We’ll find out what it is,” Ranson said. “Stay calm.”

It was all Peggy could do not to rush over and free Paul as they read him his rights and put on handcuffs. One of the young officers who’d worked with Paul put his jacket on top of the handcuffs as a sign of respect before they walked him through the restaurant.

One of the arresting officers was Hunter’s new boyfriend, Luke Blandiss. He glanced around the room, his gaze ending on Hunter. He didn’t ask, but the question of why he hadn’t been invited to dinner was clear in his eyes.

Peggy was just glad that John wasn’t there to see this. He’d never wanted his son to be a police officer. They’d both done their best to dissuade Paul from following his father on the job.

Seeing her son charged with murder was like having someone hit her in the stomach with a sledgehammer. For a moment, she had a hard time breathing and felt lightheaded.

The waiters brought in three large bowls of pasta, but no one was in the mood to eat. Dozens of boxes were distributed to take the food home.

Steve went outside to talk with Captain Hager about the arrest. Hunter left immediately so she could be at the police station when Paul arrived.

Ranson offered to drive Mai and Rosie home. Mai was sobbing and clutching the baby to her. She barely nodded to his question, and Ranson escorted her outside.

Sam and Tucker told Peggy how sorry they were and offered to do anything to help. After Steve had been gone a few minutes, Millie went outside to offer support.

Norris grabbed a couple boxes of pasta and bread and then stopped at Peggy’s chair as she gathered her things together.

“This is why you should leave these matters to the experts,” he said. “Amateurs shouldn’t be involved in law enforcement. Sorry for your loss.”

Peggy glanced up at him, her temper working overtime. “You’d better leave. Pasta sauce is hard to get out of a white shirt.”

He nodded—after moving his box of pasta out of her reach. He understood her meaning.

“What happened?” she asked Al when Norris was gone. Mary held her hand.

“I don’t know yet. I’m out of the loop. Maybe Steve can find out. If not, I’ll call in a few favors.”

“I can sit with you at the house until there’s word,” Mary offered.

She was slight and small, her head barely reaching Al’s chest. She’d been a good friend for many years. She and Peggy had gone through concussions, gunshot wounds, babies, and then John’s death together.

“Thank you.” She hugged her friend. “I’ll be okay.” Peggy glanced at her watch. It was six-thirty. “I’m doing a plant workshop at seven.”

“Maybe you should reconsider,” Mary suggested. “You push yourself too hard, Peggy. I know it comes from being alone after John died. Things aren’t like that anymore. You have Steve now. You have to relax and let go.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that.” Peggy smiled at her. “But thanks for the good advice. I’ll try to remember that after we find a way to free Paul.”

Al and Mary both hugged her and left the restaurant with pasta and bread. Peggy went to pay for the bill, but Ranson had already taken care of it.

“I didn’t know we were volunteering to pay when I suggested that we eat out,” Lilla complained as they walked out of the restaurant.

“I’ll write you a check,” Peggy offered.

“That’s all right. Your father and I aren’t paupers.”

They got in Peggy’s car together. There was no sign of the police or Steve. Peggy had to assume Steve had driven his SUV to the police station. She wished she knew what was going on.

Norris was in front of the building. He appeared to be waiting for a taxi. Peggy started her car and left him there.

“That was rude,” her mother observed. “He’s an associate of Steve’s, you know.”

Peggy didn’t respond. “I’ll drop you at home before I go to Brevard Court.”

“No. I’d like to go with you. You and your father have all these secret talks and adventures. Sometimes I’d like to be part of those. I guess this is as good a place as any to start.”

Any other time
.

Peggy sighed and drove toward The Kozy Kettle. Her mother talked about the Shamrock Historical Society the whole way over. Lilla was a veteran of historical societies in Charleston and had joined a group in Charlotte as soon as she’d moved there. The groups found graves where men were buried from the Revolutionary and Civil wars as well as searching for historical data for their archives.

Lilla had drafted Peggy for one memorable excursion during the drought a few years before. She hadn’t gone back again.

“You should join,” her mother encouraged. “The ladies all loved you. They ask about you all the time. So does that nice Mr. Underwood, though he’s married now.”

Peggy knew her mother had high hopes for getting her together with someone, preferably a scholarly man like Jonathon Underwood. That was before she and Steve were married, although they were dating at the time.

The street parking area outside Brevard Court had an empty spot. Peggy pulled into it, usually leaving those spaces for customers. She just didn’t feel up to walking through the deserted Potting Shed again that day. She hoped the next time she went inside, it would be to begin restocking.

Emil and Sofia had always held her weekly plant workshops at The Kozy Kettle. It was a good way to bring in new customers for them and gave Peggy someplace nice to invite her group.

The Balduccis always baked extra pastries for the night and brewed special teas. Peggy was happy to share her audience. There wasn’t enough room at The Potting Shed to have chairs and tables for her workshops without holding them in the back storage area—not exactly the atmosphere she was looking for.

She was grateful that she’d already planned this week’s meeting. If she’d started to think much about what she was doing, she either would have had to call it off or start crying.

“Oh. This is where you hold your meetings?” Lilla asked as they locked the car doors and went through the wrought-iron gate that was the entrance to the courtyard. “It’s very—quaint.”

“They have wonderful pastries, Mom. You should try one.”

Her mother patted her flat stomach. “I’m not one of those women who let themselves go to rack and ruin because they’re older, Margaret. I would’ve expected that you had noticed that by now.”

Peggy’s talk that night was about planting rhizomes. Several of her group had asked her to do a workshop on the topic. Because she’d put some rhizome root stocks aside for this program, she still had her examples to show her usual group of about twenty-five gardeners. Some of them still came every week since she’d first begun.

After a chorus of people asking if she was okay, Peggy introduced her mother and then began her program.

“A rhizome is only a nice Greek name for a mass of roots that are growing underground. These roots send out shoots from their nodes to create other plants. Some of these we hate—such as Chinese privet and in some cases, bamboo. Others we love, like irises, lily of the valley, and cannas.”