by Joyce Lavene
“What’s the point of having meetings together if we’re the only ones sharing information?”
“I don’t know. But I’m hoping I can get a few hints from my husband.” Peggy smiled.
“Good idea. Maybe that’s the only way we’re going to stay in the loop.” Dorothy glanced at her watch. “I’m putting some extra people on the case to find out if Ann Fletcher is dead. That seems like an important hurdle to me. Let me know what Steve has to say about everything.”
Peggy promised that she would keep her updated and left the building. Trying to keep her promise to be more careful, she peeked out into the parking lot before she went outside. Her car was unmolested, and she didn’t see Ray Quick or any other threatening figures.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on things out there.” Tom noticed her furtive movements. “I was embarrassed that vandalism happened on my watch. I haven’t seen anything unusual.”
“Thanks, Tom.”
“I can walk out to your car with you, if you like.”
“I think I’ll be okay. I appreciate the offer.” Peggy smiled at him as she opened the door and went outside. She winced as a blast of hot, humid air hit her. Thank goodness for air conditioning.
Traffic was light as she drove to the shop and parked in the back next to the loading dock. Peggy locked her car doors and went inside. The Potting Shed truck wasn’t there, so she knew Sam was out working.
She felt bad knowing that he wasn’t there. Maybe Selena’s call was an emergency. She would’ve worried more if it had been Sam calling, but Selena sometimes called about silly things—like large spiders and not being able to find the lizard in the pond. Thank goodness that most of the time she was perfectly capable.
In this case, Peggy walked through the back of the shop to find Selena rocking in her chair with an iced mocha in her hand. “You called?”
Selena jumped and dropped her mocha. She was quick to pick it up so only a few drops spilled. “I didn’t mean you had to come over! There was a question I couldn’t answer about tulips. Mrs. Eisenhower wanted to know if you had any white tulips with purple edges. I looked in the catalog and didn’t see any. I thought you might know.”
Peggy shook her head. “That doesn’t qualify as an emergency.”
“I know. You didn’t have to come in to answer.”
“Let’s go with things that aren’t an emergency as texts, and emergencies are phone calls.”
“I didn’t want Mrs. Eisenhower to go away unhappy. That’s what you always say.”
“And that’s true. I’ll see what I can find and get back with her. Thanks.” Peggy went behind the counter to stow her bag. “Anything else interesting this morning?”
“Nope. A person called about a huge piece of corn he grew. I think he saw the watermelon story in the paper today. Now we’re going to be the place to take large fruits and vegetables.”
“Oh. That came out today? Did we get a copy?”
“Of course.” Selena reached around her and produced the gardening section of the paper. “I think we should have taken out an ad at the same time.”
Peggy read the story and smiled at the picture of her, Dorian Hubbard, and the large watermelon. “You’re probably right. Still, they mentioned our address and phone number. That was good.”
Selena shrugged and went back to drinking her mocha. “What have you been up to today?”
Before Peggy could answer, Steve came in from the back of the shop.
“I know you’re busy,” she said to him. “I’ll get what I wanted to show you out of the car.”
“I’m not that busy.” He smiled. “Let’s go over to the Kozy Kettle and get some coffee. You can show me what you have after you tell me.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“What about me?” Selena asked. “If you two go over there, I won’t get to hear the good stuff.”
“Hello, Selena.” Steve said to her. “I’m sure Peggy can fill you in later. Thanks for watching the store.”
Peggy thanked her too, but Selena was determined to be cranky about it. Peggy might have felt worse if she didn’t know that her assistant already had a break that morning, and the shop wasn’t busy.
“Are you sure you want to go over there?” Peggy asked Steve when they were in the sunny courtyard.
“I know how Emil and Sofia feel about me.” Steve took her hand in his. “I can live with it.”
Peggy felt her friends’ eyes on them as soon as they walked in. It didn’t help that it was a slow time for the coffee shop. That gave them plenty of time to hover.
Steve got coffee and a bagel. Peggy just got peach tea. They sat at a table inside. The occasional grunt from Emil made them realize that he was listening to their conversation. Once they had their order, Peggy decided they should sit outside.
There was a beautiful bougainvillea blooming beside their table. The huge red and purple flowers danced in the light breeze, and drooped down from the pretty green pot where Sofia had planted it.
“So? What are we talking about?” Steve asked.
“I got the boxes of files from Arnie this morning. I also took another box of personal items that Harry had stored there. Arnie thinks the items belonged to Ann.” She sipped her tea. “There were some very valuable pieces of antique jewelry that probably didn’t belong to her. Arnie said she and Harry never owned much and were always borrowing money.”
“You’ve heard that there was another antique jewelry burglary ring in Charlotte about twenty years ago,” he guessed as he spread cream cheese on his bagel. “Sometimes I wonder why you’re not working for me.”
“Because I like you too much to let that happen.” She grinned at him and snatched a bit of his bagel. “Do you have records of the jewelry that was taken back then that we could compare it too?”
He nodded. “Of course. This is the FBI. We’re all about records.”
“Good. Then we can trade. I’d like to know why Agent Norris lit up like a Christmas tree this morning at the medical examiner’s meeting.”
Dahlia
The dahlia is the national flower of Mexico. The mountains of Mexico and Guatemala are the home of this beautiful and versatile flower. Spanish conquistadors, in the 16th century, brought back a vast collection of plants. The hollow stems of these plants were many times more than twenty-feet high and used for hauling water to the city. The Aztec name for dahlias was acocotli, or water-cane.
Chapter Twenty-two
Steve laughed. “He called me as soon as he left the room. It sounds like Ann and Harry Fletcher may have killed this young woman whose body you exhumed—at least that’s the way Norris heard it. What did you think?”
“It could go that way. He said Sheila Conway’s name might have been mentioned in the older robbery. I suppose Ann could have faked her own death by killing Sheila. From her reading material, she may have been able to poison Sheila with lily of the valley. Does that mean you see Ann as being the head of the burglary ring?”
“I’m not sure what’s going on today, but it’s possible she was part of what happened twenty years ago.”
“Does Norris think the same people are involved in the new burglaries?” she questioned.
“He does. He may be right. It looks like it could be an operation that has been moving around the country for years, possibly stealing millions of dollars in antique jewelry.”
Peggy sipped her tea, not sure what to make of those ideas. “You’re welcome to look at what I have. Do you think that means that Harry was part of the robberies?”
Steve covered Peggy’s hand with his on the sun-warmed table. “Not necessarily. In fact, he may have been murdered because he could identify Ann. He might have been involved in the past, but Ann may not have clued him in to what was going on now.”
She nodded. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been crusading to find out who killed her, right?”
“Pretty much.” He finished his coffee, and leaned toward her. “Stay away from this, Peggy. It
might get a lot more dangerous now that Ann has been exposed. She might think you know more than you do. It may have been her that sent Ray Quick after you.”
“I’ll do what I can to stay out of it, but Dorothy is counting on me to finish the investigation.”
“Okay. Just don’t do anything that might attract more attention to you.”
“I won’t. Do you want to see the jewelry now?”
“What about the files you got on John?” His brown eyes were steady on hers.
“There isn’t much information there. I don’t know if Harry just wanted my help with Ann’s death, or if he really thought what he had would make a difference.”
“I’m sorry. Would you like me to look through them?”
“Maybe so, after all of this is over. Thanks.”
They got up to leave. Steve waved to Emil and Sofia, who were standing with their noses pressed against the glass behind them. Emil almost tripped over a chair trying to pretend he wasn’t watching them. Sofia crossed herself several times and turned away.
“Why don’t they like me?” Steve asked.
She laughed at the question. “They think you’re a bad husband because you don’t spend all your time with me. I think it’s also because they want to hook me up with someone from their family who needs a wife.”
“I guess I can see that—as long as Emil doesn’t have his eye on you.”
They were both laughing at that as they walked back into The Potting Shed. Selena was playing games on her tablet and looked up as they came in.
“So do I get to hear the good stuff now?” she asked.
“Later,” Peggy told her. “I’ll be right back.”
Steve walked out to the car with her. She showed him the jewelry she was talking about and put the pieces into a cloth bag for him.
“You’ll let me know what happens.” She smiled and kissed him.
“Yes. Thank you for your cooperation.” He put his arms around her. “I’m thinking about making you my confidential informant.”
“That sounds sexy. I think I’d like that.”
“It’s as good as done.”
They kissed again as Sam pulled The Potting Shed truck beside Peggy’s car. “Hey, don’t we have some kind of rule about people not doing that kind of thing in the parking lot? If not, I think we should write one. It gives the place a bad reputation.”
Sam and Steve shook hands and exchanged a few words. Steve thanked him for going places with Peggy so she didn’t have to go alone and then he had to leave.
“How is the Drummond job going?” Peggy asked Sam after she waved goodbye to Steve.
“Great. I like working with Claire. She’s wide open to anything. I think the blueberry bushes are going to be a hit. We’re going to make a pile of money on her yard, and she’s going to recommend us to all her friends.”
“Excellent. I’m glad you two are finally able to work on a project together.’
They went into the shop as Selena was having a conversation with a short man in a gray suit. Sam retreated to the back storage area.
Peggy smiled as she greeted her customer. “I was wondering when you were going to show up!”
“You knew I’d be here.” He hugged her. “So where are my fabulous dahlias that you promised to set aside for me?”
“Blackberry Ripple, if I remember correctly, TJ?” She started toward the orders she’d put aside for him.
He rubbed his hands together. “Yes! I’m looking forward to having them in my yard after seeing them at the Festival of Flowers this year.”
“I also added some Raspberry Sherbet dahlias with them.” Peggy held out the bag for him. “I think the combination will be spectacular together.”
“I can’t wait until they bloom next year. I’ll invite you for tea.” He kissed her cheek. “I saw you in the newspaper today. It was a very good picture. I hope it doesn’t make The Potting Shed too famous. I don’t want to have to fight my way in the door.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, but we all have to stay in business, don’t we?”
“I certainly hope you do, Peggy. I’ll see you later.” The small man tipped his gray cap to Selena and left.
“Why do they make flowers sound like food?” Selena asked.
“They don’t—not all the time. Sometimes they’re named after famous people or famous places. The colorful food names are cute. And someone has to name new species every year. I think they do the best they can.”
Selena went back to her games—Peggy didn’t mind when they weren’t busy.
Peggy spent some time working on the small pond in the shop. Seasons didn’t seem to matter much when plants were kept indoors all the time. Her purple water irises were about to bloom. Some clearing of the root system for all the plants was in order.
Customers came and went as she worked. A small lizard kept watch over her activities, darting away if she got too close. Most of The Potting Shed customers were comfortable talking to Selena. Peggy always greeted them, and many sat down for a while to pick her brain about one garden problem or another. She answered questions about everything from cutting back roses to getting rid of voles.
She really loved this part of owning the garden shop. Talking with other gardeners about their problems and successes was special to her. Seeing friends come and go with her flowers in their hands made her day. She wanted the shop to succeed so she could continue, but no amount of money could make her feel any better about what she did.
The forensic work was challenging and exciting. She liked it too. Between the two things, she was well satisfied with her career.
After lunch with Sam and Selena, Peggy was looking through fall catalogues for new products, as she always did. Arnie called her. He sounded nervous, maybe even a little afraid.
“Peggy? Someone showed up at the storage unit a few minutes ago. He said his name is Ray Quick and that Ann had something that belonged to him. Have you done anything with that box of stuff I let you have today?”
“No,” she lied, wanting to hear more about what Ray wanted. “What is he looking for?”
“He says he’s looking for that jewelry we found. He says it belongs to him and that Ann was supposed to leave it for him, but Harry took it with everything else.”
She was beginning to get a bad feeling about this. “Where are you, Arnie?”
“I think I’m in trouble, Peggy.” The phone went dead before he could say where he was.
* * *
Peggy drove to Arnie’s motel room. The door was locked, and there was no response when she knocked. She convinced the motel manager that she was Arnie’s wife, and he opened the door for her.
When the manager was gone—after a warning about two of them staying in the room that was meant for a single—Peggy started looking around for some idea of where he could be. She tried his cell phone again. There was no answer. Thinking about how Harry had died made her nervous. What if Ray Quick wanted to kill Arnie too?
If Ann was still alive, and had killed her husband because he could recognize her, would she hold back because Arnie was her brother?
The only other place she could imagine Arnie and Ray going was the mini-storage. She got back in the car and headed that way. She took a few minutes to call Al and let him know what was going on.
“All he said was that he could be in trouble, right?” Al asked as though he was only half listening.
“Yes, but I’m afraid he might be headed in the same direction as Harry.”
“I can’t get away right now, Peggy, but I’ll send an officer to the mini-storage to assist you. We’ve been following the trail of breadcrumbs left behind by Sheila Conway. I think it’s possible that she was the head of the old burglary ring. I still can’t explain why she was buried under Ann Fletcher’s name, but things of that nature happen sometimes.”
“So you don’t think Ann might still be alive and head of the new burglary ring?”
“I don’t know yet. That irritating
agent of Steve’s has been here to pick up everything we had on the burglaries twenty years ago. I hope his theory is correct just so he stays out of my office. What does Steve see in him anyway?”
“I don’t know if Steve likes him or not, but he says he gets the job done.” Peggy made the turn into the mini-storage. “I have to figure out how to get in here without a passcode, Al. Thanks for sending a car.”
“Peggy, don’t do anything until my officer gets there, you hear? Peggy?”
“Sorry, Al. There’s bad reception out here.” She scraped her fingernails across her phone. “Talk to you later.”
If she was right—and Arnie was Ray Quick’s next target—she couldn’t wait for the Charlotte/Mecklenburg police officer to arrive. She locked her car and went as quickly as she could to the office of the storage facility.
Of course, the same man she’d met before was on-duty. He took one look at her and immediately got to his feet. “I don’t want to see you here. Leave now, and I won’t call the police.”
“You don’t have to call the police—they’re already on the way.” She took out her pass to the medical examiner’s office. “I work with the police. We have to go to Unit 34. A man’s life might be in danger. I know you don’t want the publicity from someone dying here.”
His eyes narrowed, but he made no move toward the door. “You’d say anything to get into that unit, wouldn’t you? What’s so special about it? Did you know everything in there was stolen, and put back again? I need to see a search warrant if you want me to open that door without the owner’s permission.”
“I’m telling you—the man who owns the unit—Arnie Houck—could be dead or dying in there right now.” Her sharp green eyes pinned him to the wall. “If you don’t want to have TV news out here tonight, not to mention living with your own conscience, you’ll open that door right now.”
He got his keys from the desk. “You’re crazy, you know that? If I don’t find Mr. Houck in that unit, I’m having you arrested again.”
“Whatever. Stop talking and let’s go!”
They went quickly out to the golf cart. The manager drove haphazardly in the narrow aisles between the buildings until they came to Unit 34. Peggy snatched the keys from him, despite his loud protest, and ran to open the door.