Lethal Lily (A Peggy Lee Garden Mystery) (7 page)

“It was getting too big to be at the edge of the street,” Sam observed. “It was probably starting to block drivers from seeing ahead.”

“I blame the people for that. They should have kept it trimmed before it came to this. At the rate they’re cutting trees in Charlotte, there won’t be any big ones left in a few years. We’ll look a little strange being ‘The City of Trees’ without any trees.”

“True.” Sam nodded thoughtfully, his blue gaze intense. “You know, I’ve been thinking we should consider adding tree work to our list of services. I’ve had people ask about it a few times.”

They passed the growing pile of branches that littered the street and sidewalk. Peggy guessed that the tree was probably older than the brick house built behind it. There were also some wonderful old oaks in the yard. She hoped they wouldn’t suffer the same fate.

“There’s a heavy outlay of capital to get started with tree work,” she said. “A lot of equipment.”

“Yeah. Just thinking out loud.” He smiled at her.

“That’s what makes you such a great partner! You’re always thinking ahead.”

“Thanks. You too. I don’t regret leaving school to work with you.”

“How about your parents? Are they coming around?” Sam’s mother and father had been very angry about him becoming a landscaper instead of a surgeon.

“They still aren’t happy about it, but we’re okay. It helps that Hunter stuck it out and became a lawyer. At least they can point to
her
with pride.”

Hunter was Sam’s only sister. She’d managed to find a legal firm that took her on so she didn’t have to forage for work. Peggy knew Sam was still smarting from his parents’ rejection of his new occupation. He didn’t like to talk about it.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“I guess it all depends which side you’re on.”

She decided to change the subject and asked him about getting rid of the English ivy on her roof.

“The best way is Roundup,” he joked. “But if you don’t want to kill off every other living thing in the area, have them use apple cider vinegar. It’ll take more than one application, but it will get the job done.”

“Thanks!” She texted Dalton as Sam told her. “I’m sure that will do it.”

“No problem. That’s my job.”

“There it is.” Peggy pointed to the large sign for the storage facility. “I hope the gate is open. I’d like to get my car out without a lot of fuss.”

“I can always create diversion, and you can sneak it out,” he offered.

“Thanks. Another great reason I love having you as my partner—you’re sneaky!”

But it was as she’d originally thought—the gate was open—welcoming bidders to the auction of several storage units. Sam parked the truck at the entrance, and they walked to the office.

A dozen or so people were lined up to bid on the contents of those units. Peggy signed in with her name, address, and phone number. She hoped the manager wouldn’t pay close attention to her. He was the same man who’d wanted to press charges against her.  She stood on the other side of Sam, just in case.

He came up to them and shook Sam’s hand. “Welcome. We have six units up for bid today. No promises what’s inside them. It could be trash. It could be treasure.”

“Sounds like fun,” Sam said.

The manager grinned. “I should charge just for the
fun
of doing it. There have been many treasures found here in the past. Usually bidders pay a pittance compared to what they find inside.”

“Excellent.” Sam glanced at Peggy hugging his side, her nose buried in a sales flyer. “Thanks.”

After the manager had left them, Sam whispered to her, “Did you know you have to get the buy the whole unit?”

“No, but that’s okay. I brought my checkbook.”

“I’m glad I didn’t bring mine. I’m a sucker for this stuff.”

She moved with him as he started walking. “Do you want to tell me why you’re hiding behind me?” he asked.

“No. Not really.” She frowned, feeling she owed him the truth since he was there with her. “The manager and I had a little run-in last night when I was here with Harry. Nothing serious.”

Sam shrugged, turning so that Peggy was behind him again as the manager walked by to welcome another bidder. “It’s your show. We’ll do it your way.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

Harry’s unit was second on the list of those being auctioned. The group walked with the manager to the first storage unit. The auctioneer said most of the items listed in the unit were furniture.

“What is my bid on this first unit?” the auctioneer asked. “Do I hear one hundred dollars?”

“I’ll bid fifty dollars,” a tall man in a red T-shirt said.

“Fifty dollars.” The auctioneer glanced at the manager. “Do I hear fifty-five dollars? Come on, folks. There could be some valuable furniture inside. Do I hear fifty-five dollars?”

The unit finally went for seventy-five dollars. When the door was opened, it was filled with old furniture. Peggy recognized many of the pieces as valuable antiques. They would probably sell for a lot more at an antique auction. “He got a good deal.”

“I’ll say!” Sam agreed. “See something you want?”

“No. We have more than enough old furniture.”

As the small group was leaving to go to the next unit, an older woman walked up and demanded that the proceedings cease. “This is
my
furniture.” Her voice trembled. “I have the money to pay the back rent now. You have no right to sell it.”

The manager shrugged. “I’m sorry. You had plenty of advance notice that this was going to happen. We’ve sold it all. You could probably buy it back from this gentleman.”

The woman had a look of horror on her face. “No! These things have been in my family for generations. They’re priceless. They can’t be gone.”

“I am within my legal rights to sell everything in this unit,” the manager said with a touch of disdain. “Check your contract.”

Peggy felt sorry for her. She couldn’t imagine if someone had put all of
her
things up for sale without her consent. Even if the woman knew it would happen, it rankled. It wasn’t a good practice, but what else could the storage facilities do with items that no one wanted? They probably couldn’t afford to keep storing them.

She watched as the woman sobbed when a beautiful rosewood desk was taken to a truck that held other pieces of her furniture. There was nothing Peggy could do to help. It was doubtful that the woman had enough money to buy back her belongings since her lease hadn’t been paid in months.

“Okay folks.” The manager drew the group away from the grieving woman. “We’re moving on to the next unit. Come this way.”

Unit 34 was around the corner and down the lane. Peggy’s imagination wandered through all the other storage units as they passed. There could be anything inside the large and small units. Jewelry, clothes, shoes, household items. Harry had told her that he’d seen a man pull a forty-year old Mustang into one of the big units. What secrets could these cubbies hold?

The manager waited for everyone to catch up before the auctioneer got in place with his battery-powered microphone and clipboard.

A man standing beside Peggy was having a hard time breathing. He was a large man, way over six feet, with broad shoulders and chest. Despite the heat of the day, he was wearing a brown corduroy jacket. She listened to him wheezing before he brought out an inhaler and took a deep puff.

Was this the same man who’d walked passed her when she and Harry were there?

With a careful hand, she pretended to take a picture of the storage unit, but she had the camera on her phone faced toward her, instead of away. She turned it slightly to the side where he was standing and snapped a photo of the man’s face. It wasn’t very clear, but it might be enough to identify him.

Maybe she was wrong. He might not be the man who’d passed her. Or he had some legitimate reason to be out there. In either case, no harm done. He didn’t know she’d taken his picture.

Harry had told her that he thought people were following him. He thought it had been to get the files he had stored in this unit. Now that he was dead—probably murdered—his words didn’t sound so much like fantasy. But it seemed to her that it had been a mistake to kill him without securing whatever was inside.

Unless the killer was there with them now.

She surreptitiously stared at the other people waiting for the next auction. There were at least a dozen men and women. Any one of them could be Harry’s killer. She kept a close eye on the wheezing man.

“What are my bids on this unit?” the auctioneer asked.

“Five hundred dollars.” The wheezing man raised his hand first.

The manager smiled.

Peggy could tell that must be a great first bid, especially compared with the first unit. It could only go up from there.

“Five hundred dollars,” the auctioneer called. “Do I hear five-fifty?”

Peggy raised her hand. “Six hundred.”

The auctioneer pointed his gavel at her. “Six hundred. Thank you. Do I hear six-fifty?”

“Eight hundred.” The wheezing man seemed determined to have the unit. He glared at Peggy and stepped in front of her.

“Nine hundred.” Peggy ignored him and bid again. She was glad the others in the group weren’t bidding too. Maybe it was too rich for their blood.

“One
thousand
!” The wheezing man called out before the auctioneer could repeat Peggy’s bid, or ask for another.

Sam folded his muscular arms across his wide chest. “Seriously?” he whispered to her. “How high are you prepared to go with this?”

“Eleven-hundred,” Peggy called out with a lift of her chin, letting the wheezing man know that she wasn’t backing down.

“Fifteen-hundred,” the wheezing man said loudly.

The rest of the group was starting to mutter, waiting for the next bid. The manager was rubbing his hands together. Suddenly, auctioning this unit was exciting.

“Sixteen-hundred.” Peggy held up her hand.

“Seventeen-hundred,” came the wheezing man’s bid.

She hoped the smaller bid meant he was running out of money. She was only prepared to go to two-thousand dollars.

“Seventeen-fifty.” She flashed a cheeky grin at him.

“Twenty-five-hundred dollars.” His flinty eyes dared her to bid any higher.

Peggy wished she could shove that dare in his face, but she couldn’t go any higher. When the auctioneer pointed his gavel at her, she shook her head.

“Twenty-five-hundred, going once.” The auctioneer paused, and stared at the crowd—especially Peggy. “Going twice? Sold to the man in the brown coat.”

Bamboo

Giant bamboos are the largest members of the grass family. Bamboo is also one of the fastest-growing plants in the world, with a unique rhizome-dependent system. High quality bamboo is said to be stronger than steel. The plants make wonderful fences, and deer don’t like to eat them!

Chapter Eight

Peggy didn’t like to lose.

She ignored the smug look the wheezing man gave her. She’d done the best she could to secure Harry’s files. She’d hoped the wheezing man might open the unit after he won the bid, but instead, he went with the manager to pay for what he had and probably pick up the key. She wouldn’t get to see inside, as she had the unit with the furniture.

“Sorry.” Sam studied the wheezing man as he walked away with the manager. “What could be so valuable in there that he’d be willing to pay so much?”

“Maybe the same thing I’m looking for—only he wants to keep those files away from anyone searching for the truth.”

Sam shrugged. “Or maybe he’s looking for some
different
truth. What’s in there, Peggy?”

She explained about John’s files. “I don’t know if any of it is true, but I really wanted to find out. I need to get my car out of here before they auction it too.”

“How are you going to do that?” Sam walked with her down the twists and turns between Unit 34 and her car.

Peggy hadn’t realized how far she’d walked last night, probably because she’d been so intent on finding Harry.

“Just drive it out, I guess.” Her tone was bitter. It was over. She might never know if what Harry had said about John’s death was true. It was disappointing, though there was nothing she could do about it, even if John
had
been
killed because he was working with the FBI. John would still be dead. It wouldn’t bring him back.  

The truth about it seemed precious to her. She couldn’t explain it rationally. It had obsessed her since she’d first heard it.

“Wow! Look at that!” Sam exclaimed as they passed a huge stand of dark green bamboo that had been planted as a buffer between the storage buildings and the main road. “This is the native bamboo I’m encouraging to grow at Sandra Mansfield’s house. It’s probably been here for ten years, at least, to be so thick. It must be twenty-feet tall!”

“It can’t be cut down either since the state declared it an endangered species,” she said. “It’s beautiful.” She touched the tall, sturdy shoots, grateful for the distraction.

“What are you hoping to gain by doing this anyway, Peggy?” Sam put his hand on her shoulder. “You already
know
John was murdered. What good would files detailing the whole thing be?”

“They might not be any good at all,” she admitted. “Harry said he had some information pertaining to why John was killed and that it wasn’t simply a random act. I don’t know.”

“He seems like he was kind of a shady character. Not really surprising, since Nightflyer set the two of you up.”

Peggy glanced up at him impatiently.

“What?” Sam grinned at her. “Come on. I don’t have to be a brain surgeon to see that Nightflyer is a little on the corrupt side. I’m
sure
you know it too. How many times has he gotten you into trouble?”

“He knows things, Sam—things the rest of us don’t know.” She started walking toward her car again.

“Well, if he knows that John’s death wasn’t what it seemed, why doesn’t he just come out and tell you? Why all these games?”

“I don’t think Nightflyer knows
exactly
what happened to John.” She defended her online friend. “He set me up with Harry because Harry was part of what happened. There’s also the question about what happened to Harry’s wife.”