Lethal Lily (A Peggy Lee Garden Mystery) (3 page)

“The private detective?” Steve looked surprised. “How did you meet him?”

“He contacted me.” She didn’t tell him about Nightflyer. Steve disliked her online friend more than Paul did. “He wants my help trying to figure out what happened to his wife. Harry believes she was poisoned here in Charlotte about twenty years ago.”

 “That’s right.” Steve collected his thoughts. “That’s why he agreed to work as an informant for us. He was trying to get some help. Didn’t the police decide it was an accident?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “But I can’t tell you how many times poisonings are actually murder, and the police can’t tell the difference.”

“I think I’ve read those statistics.” He frowned. “I don’t remember Harry ever having much real information. What’s he telling you that he knows about John’s death?”

“That’s why we were at the storage unit. All of his files are about to be auctioned. He said a lot of what he knows is in the files.”

“And you never thought to come to me with this information—even though you know I’m interested in finding out what happened to John too.”

Steve had a stake in what Harry said he had on the case—she agreed with him on that. The case was still open with the FBI, and she knew Steve felt at least partially responsible for John’s death.

She hadn’t told him because it felt odd discussing John’s death with him. Maybe she was just being overly sensitive, but being married to Steve and discussing her late husband’s death with him was really awkward.

Peggy compromised so that she didn’t leave Steve hanging. “I didn’t want to involve anyone else until I had some real answers. So far, all I have are promises that there are answers. That’s not much for the FBI, or the police, to get involved with.”

He reached across the seat and put his arms around her. “And you don’t want Paul to find out, right? I understand. I won’t say anything to him. But you have to promise me that you’ll be more careful. I don’t think Harry Fletcher is dangerous, but what if the storage manager had shot you instead of calling the police?”

She let him think it was all about Paul, instead of him. She wasn’t happy about Paul finding out what she was doing either, but
that
was different.

“Then we probably wouldn’t be going to the Waffle House.” She was flip about it because she didn’t know what to say. They probably should have a
real
conversation about it, but she didn’t know where to start.

“That’s for sure.” He kissed her. “You know, I have to eat at those places on the road all the time.”

“They have the
best
waffles.” She smiled, trying to distract them both. “I have a waffle maker somewhere in my kitchen, but you don’t want to eat a waffle
I
make from scratch.”

He moved away from her, and started the car. “Waffle House it is.”

* * *

The Waffle House was nearly empty. A waitress in a pink uniform with a nametag that said, ‘Candy’ on it, came up to them quickly with two cups of coffee. Peggy asked for tea, and they each ordered a waffle.

When they were alone, Steve took Peggy’s hands in his. “Would you like me to go with you to see Harry? It doesn’t have to be official. I’m your worried husband. I don’t have to be there as an FBI agent interested in the case.”

“In other words, I could head out with the full—though unofficial—weight of a large national security organization at my back?” She laughed. “That
might
spook him! I can handle Harry, even though I might be arrested for his murder before it’s over. He’s kind of crazy and has no idea what he’s doing.”

“I remember him that way too.”

“But I promise to call if I need your help.”

He looked skeptical. “You didn’t call me before you went ‘undercover’ last night.”

“Well, now our organizations are working together. I promise to call you—if you promise not to overreact every time something unplanned happens. I’ve been doing this kind of thing for a long time.”

“You mean getting arrested, almost killed—that kind of thing?” His smile was doubtful.

“Exactly.”

Their waffles arrived, with Peggy’s tea, and they talked about normal things for a while. There were roofers working on their turn-of-the-century home. They’d both been surprised to wake up and find them there one morning a few days before.

The three-story, twenty-five room house in Myer’s Park didn’t belong to Peggy. She’d lived there with John, who’d inherited it, but it would never belong to Paul. Now, she and Steve were there until John’s cousin decided to take possession of it. The house was maintained as part of a trust by the Lee family.

The family wasn’t happy about Peggy living there now that John was dead, but it was pointless for the house to remain empty. John’s young cousin who’d inherited it traveled extensively as part of his job and had no plans to settle down in the near future. He’d asked Peggy to stay put so there was someone living there.

Peggy loved the old house and wanted to live there as long as she could. Her basement was filled with her plant experiments, and her foyer had a large blue spruce growing in it. It was the perfect house for her. She secretly hoped she’d die there, and they’d take her out with a sheet across her head, so she wouldn’t see herself leaving.

But being an old house, it had a lot of maintenance that had to be done. One of the problems right now was the roof. As the work was being done, the roofers had begun complaining about the English ivy growing across the old shingles.

The plant was beautiful, but it could be invasive too. Twining tendrils and roots excreted a sticky substance that made it possible for the plant to climb on anything. Trying to get it off where it was the thickest had turned out to be a difficult job that had made the roofers want to charge extra.

They were pushing to spray the roof and walls with herbicide, and kill the ivy. Peggy was totally against the practice since it would kill all the other plants in close proximity to the house. With the difference in price, John’s uncle, Dalton Lee—who was responsible for the house—wanted to do whatever the roofers wanted. It had been an ongoing battle.

“How bad could it be to use an herbicide?” Steve poured more syrup on his waffle.

“How bad?” Peggy stared at him over her cup. “Some of the rose bushes and azaleas close to the house are over a hundred years old. You can’t find those breeds anymore. They can’t be replaced. It would be devastating.”

“Okay.” He smiled. “Sorry. Just that you and Dalton are formidable foes. I don’t see either of you winning.”

“Dalton knows it would be a mistake. He doesn’t understand the value of plants, but he understands the value of the house.” She picked up her fork. “Besides, I’m going to talk to Sam about it today. I know he’s done this before. There must be something that could make the job go faster without killing everything.”

Sam Ollson was her partner at her garden shop, The Potting Shed. He took care of the landscaping end of the business.

Peggy tried calling Harry again while Steve paid for breakfast. There was still no answer.

Why bother having a phone if you never answered it?

Peony

The peony is a flowering plant native to Asia, Southern Europe, and Western North America. Most are herbaceous perennial plants, but some are the size of small trees. The peony is named after Paeon, a student of the Greek god of medicine. Zeus saved the student from the wrath of Asclepius, his teacher, by turning him into the peony flower. Research continues into more than 262 compounds obtained from the plants.

Chapter Four

Steve drove them home after leaving the Waffle House. Neither of them thought it was a good idea to get Peggy’s car until morning. By that time, maybe things would have calmed down at the mini-storage.

Peggy hoped a different manager would be on duty.

“I have to be there for the auction tomorrow anyway.” Peggy closed the car door and walked toward the house. She could hear her Great Dane, Shakespeare, barking loudly from inside. She hoped it didn’t wake her neighbors. “I’ll have one of the kids at the shop drive me over there.”

“Or I could take you.”

“There’s no reason to upset your schedule because I made a mistake.”

“I don’t mind.”

She opened the kitchen door at the side of the house, and Shakespeare ran full-tilt into her. If he hadn’t pushed her into Steve, she would’ve fallen on the ground under his weight.

Peggy had rescued Shakespeare from an abusive owner and loved him dearly, but his joyous welcomes could be a bit much.

“You missed me, didn’t you?” She stroked his floppy, unclipped ears, and massive black muzzle. “You might need to start missing me a little
less
.”

Shakespeare’s big brown eyes were focused completely on her, until he saw the door close behind her, and galloped off in the other direction. He wasn’t used to his humans going in and out at all times of the day and night.

“It’s only two a.m.” Steve glanced at his watch and yawned. “I’m going back to bed. What about you?”

“I’m much too nervous and upset to sleep.” She put her handbag, and the tiny dieffenbachia in her pocket, on the kitchen table. “You go on up. I’m going to take a look at my plants.”

He put his arms around her. “Maybe we could find something
else
to do with all that nervous energy.” He kissed her. “And I could talk you into letting me take you to the mini-storage tomorrow.”

She smiled and leaned against him. “That
does
sound more interesting than looking at my plants right now. What did you have in mind?”

* * *

 Peggy fell asleep in Steve’s arms for about an hour. Then her restless mind woke her and urged her to get out of bed.

She groaned when she saw it was only four a.m. She’d hoped it was closer to six.
Oh well.
Still time to check on her plants in the basement. Peggy got up and pulled on a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants. She studied Steve’s sleeping face for a moment. He was so handsome and kind.

Funny how things could change. After John had died, she thought she would always be alone. She’d told herself that she didn’t mind. She’d had her love. Then Steve had sneaked into her life, and her heart. He’d brought light and love, changing her life again.

Shakespeare accompanied her down the spiral staircase from her bedroom to the first floor. She loved the feel of the cool marble stairs against her feet, and brushed her hand against a branch of the blue spruce that grew beside the stairs. The scent filled the air around her.

She loved the big, old house when it was quiet. It made settling sounds, like an old tree in the forest. She’d managed to leave her mark on it—something she wasn’t sure was possible when she’d first arrived as a young bride. So many generations of John’s family had added to the rambling halls and rooms. She’d expected to get lost in it, but it never happened.

Some of the old furniture in the library, dining room, and bedrooms had been handmade by John’s grandfather. The antique rose china had come from John’s great-grandmother. The piano had been brought by ship from New York in 1920, pulled by horse and wagon from the port of Wilmington to Charlotte.

Peggy knew her contribution to the house could mostly be found in the grounds surrounding it. She’d planted trees and bushes, landscaped the old roses, and added terraces and other outside features. She felt sure no one in the future would quibble with the work she and John had accomplished in their lifetimes.

John had been an avid gardener too. Except for her specific field of study—poisonous botanicals—he could keep up with her on any gardening projects. He’d created the circular stone terrace and fountain and then filled it with tulips, hyacinths, and daffodils. He’d made beautiful benches that graced the walkways.

She missed the understanding and appreciation of gardening that they had shared for thirty years. Many times, it was the last thing they’d talked about at night and were eager to get started on a project in the morning.

It wasn’t something she and Steve had in common. He was good about listening to her ramble on about a new rose or peony, but she knew it wasn’t where his heart was. She smiled when she remembered how puzzled his face had been when they’d first met, and she’d started talking about various plants. He was better educated now.

Peggy was about to go into the basement, where she kept her botanical experiments, when the phone in her pocket rang.

“Mom!” Paul’s voice was high-pitched and excited. “We’re leaving for the hospital. Mai says it’s time.”

“We’ll meet you there.”

Paul had already hung up before she could say goodbye. Peggy smiled, remembering the night he’d been born. She’d thought John was going to drive
into
the hospital when they couldn’t find a close parking space.

She ran upstairs excitedly and kissed Steve. “Wake up! We’re about to be grandparents.”

* * *

Three hours later, the hospital staff was sending Mai back home. She wasn’t dilating enough. The doctor said she wasn’t having real contractions.

“But we’re getting ready for the big event,” he said with a broad grin on his face.

“Sorry to drag you out for nothing,” Paul said to Steve and Peggy. “I thought for sure she’d know when the baby was coming since she works for the medical examiner’s office. She knows everything about
dead
bodies.”

Peggy laughed. “It happens to a lot of people, no matter what their training. Even doctors and nurses are fooled. It’s a huge moment in your life. It’s easy to get carried away.”

Mai stepped out of the cubicle, wearing her street clothes instead of a hospital gown. Her pretty, almond-colored face was annoyed. “I feel like a bloated idiot.”

“You’re not any kind of idiot.” Peggy hugged her. “And maybe this is just as well since your parents are in Europe. I know they want to be here too.”

“Thanks. I wish that made me feel better.” Mai wiped tears from her dark eyes. “I just want to get this over. I’m sorry I decided to take a leave of absence from the ME’s office before the baby was born. I’m so bored. All I want to do is eat and sleep.”