6 A Thyme to Die

by Joyce Lavene

  Sam made faces at Selena who frowned and went into the back of the shop to look for something.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Sam recommended. “This is a transition for you and Steve. You’re finding your way in a new relationship.”

  Peggy sipped her tea. “Thanks for the advice. I’d like to know your source. Was it the last three week relationship you had, or was it the ten-day relationship?”

  “Ouch.” He frowned. “I think you need some chamomile tea in that cup. You know Steve didn’t want to keep all of this a secret from you. Anyone with eyes can see how much he loves you. He had to do this for his job.”

  “What about Mata Hari?”

  “That was different. She never loved anyone she seduced. She only did it for information. I don’t think even your amazing knowledge of botanical poisons would be enough to keep Steve around all this time if he didn’t care about you.”

  She smiled at the thought. “I know you’re right. I’m a little afraid of history repeating itself. It’s not a normal life, Sam. It’s scary not knowing if there will be another knock on my door late one night.”

  “I know. At least you two love each other. Most people don’t even have that, and there can still be scary knocks on the door late at night. Cops aren’t the only ones who don’t make it home.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk. And good news about the willow trees.”

  He grinned. “While I’m on a roll, I could really use another hand in the landscape part of the business. Things have picked up, and with Keeley gone, I don’t think I can keep up with it by myself.”

  “I trust your judgment. You know where we are financially. If we can afford it, do it.” She put down her cup of tea and picked up the phone. “I have a ton of phone calls to make to angry and frightened people about the flower show. Steve and I will be fine. I hope the flower show will be too.”

  Peggy sat outside in the pleasant courtyard returning phone calls and other messages. She noticed some of the large pots of plants The Potting Shed maintained were in need of work.

  While she talked to vendors who were worried about losing the money they’d invested in the flower show, she got out a small pair of pruning shears and took care of the yellow leaves on tulips and hyacinths. The plants couldn’t be cut back yet because it would ruin them. Later, she’d remove the bulbs and plant them somewhere else.

  The shop’s name was on each planter. It didn’t look very good if they couldn’t keep up with their own work. She’d have to mention it to Sam.

  A few waitresses from Anthony’s Caribbean Café came out to sit in the sun for their break. A few other shop owners were outside in the fresh air, too, during lulls in their day. Dozens of customers wandered through the arcade to reach the courtyard. They carried bags from various shops which had always meant to Peggy that they were in a buying mood.

  Phone calls complete, Peggy went back inside The Potting Shed. Selena was half asleep in the rocking chair by the water pond. Peggy roused her and had her take a few samples outside.

  “We don’t usually do that,” Selena protested as Peggy loaded her up with a few daisies and hostas.

  “When things are slow, it’s best to take it to the customer. I’ll bring out one of those pretty rolling flower carts and we’ll set the scene. Who can resist them?”

  “Who indeed?” Selena was less than enthusiastic. “Shouldn’t Sam have to take some potting soil out there too? And what about some of those new, hand-painted flower pots?”

  “Good idea.” Peggy called for Sam as she was pushing Selena out the front door.

  She asked Sam to take out two bags of potting soil while she took out a few of the flower pots. Peggy really liked the artist who’d created them, Mandy Burke. Her designs were very original and she was a wonderful person.

  The problem was that the pots were priced too high. Yes, they were hand-painted, original designs, but they were from an unknown artist. She had yet to sell a single pot in the six months they’d been at the shop. Even Peggy’s deep-pocket customers had waved them away.

  They set everything in front of the shop and went back inside. It was only a minute before a customer came in.

  “Hello!” Selena greeted the young woman. “Can I help you find something?”

  The woman, who was probably a few years younger than Selena’s early twenties, looked around the shop without moving. Her clothes were very nice, expensive, and her black hair was piled on her head, the style emphasizing her high cheek bones and dark eyes.

  “I am looking for Dr. Margaret Lee. Is she here?”

  Selena shrugged. “Sure. Peggy, it’s for you.”

  Peggy had been washing her hands. She dried them quickly on a towel when she heard her name and bustled to the front of the shop.

  “Yes?”

  “I am Tanya Abutto. My father was Dr. Aris Abutto. He was found dead this morning at your flower show. I want to know how this happened.” Her accent was a mixture of French and something else.

  Peggy scanned the pretty young face before her. There was not a sign of tears or even anger. Her eyes were dark, placid pools. She didn’t look like someone who’d recently lost her father.

  Besides, Peggy knew Tanya. This wasn’t her. What was going on?

  “I am so sorry for you loss. Come right outside and we can talk. Would you like some tea?” Peggy ushered her out of the door, frowning as Selena made horrified faces at her over the top of ‘Tanya’s’ head.

  They sat at the same table in the courtyard that Peggy had recently vacated. ‘Tanya’ stared at Peggy as though her life depended on it. The only other sign that she was upset was the stranglehold she had on her large brown leather bag.

  “Have you spoken with the police?” Peggy was going to try hard not to step on anyone’s toes, but curiosity kept her from telling the girl to go away while she called Al.

  “No. You were my father’s contact here. I came to you for assistance.”

  “I’m not sure what help I can be as far as your father’s death is concerned. I was there when they found him. I’m sure the police would like to talk to you about hwne you saw him last. Would you like me to go with you to talk to them?”

  “Perhaps later.” The girl seemed to be mulling something over. “My father carried with him a large, black bag. A satchel, I believe you call them. I would very much like to find it.”

  Peggy thought about it. The duffel bag Reggie had mentioned, no doubt. It seemed a strange thing to be concerned about, especially if the girl was trying to pass herself off as Tanya. What could she be looking for?

  “I talked with your father while he was setting up his exhibit. He never mentioned a bag of that sort and I didn’t see him with one. Are there important documents you need in the bag?”

  “That is a personal matter,” she snapped. “I need the bag as soon as possible. Bring it to this hotel where I am staying.”

  ‘Tanya’ got up quickly from the bench and handed Peggy a card from the Hilton. She stalked toward the sidewalk and got into a new, black Mercedes that had been parked at the curb.

  Peggy watched her drive away. There was a sticker on the back that proclaimed the car a Friendly Rental vehicle. It was a local rental agency with one office at the airport.

  Still wondering what was going on, Peggy went back inside The Potting Shed. It had been a curious conversation, not at all what she’d been expecting.

  “Well?” Selena was waiting for her. “Does she want to sue you because her father died or is she planning a vendetta?”

  “Neither, as far as I can tell. That wasn’t even Tanya.”

  “What? Did you ask her who she really was?”

  “No. I thought it would be better to let her talk. She left before I could learn anything useful.”

  “Oh, Peggy. This doesn’t sound good.” Selena wrung her hands.

  “She said she wanted her father’s bag, the same one Reggie was talking about this morning, I think. She didn’t ask anything about him personall
y, not the normal questions you’d expect from a grieving daughter, even a fake grieving daughter.”

  Selena shrugged. “You should call the police. Or call Steve. He’s like the police.”

  A real customer came in the door next and asked about the painted pots outside. To Peggy’s surprise, she bought two of them. Maybe Mandy knew what she was doing after all.

  After that, several other customers came in looking for mulch and blackberry bushes. Peggy routed the customers to Sam for him to take care of. He might even be able to convince her to let him plant a berry garden for her. Sam was very good at persuading customers to become landscape devotees. It always helped when it was a woman. They found him, and his Norse God good looks, irresistible.

  While Peggy was walking the new customer to the back of the shop where Sam was working, another woman came in and asked about water plants for her pond.

  “I only have a small pond I keep on my balcony. I’d have a much bigger one if I didn’t live in an apartment.” Starr Richards laughed as she introduced herself. “I work over at the bank and I’ve almost stopped in here several times. If I’d known you had this huge pond in here, I would’ve stopped sooner.”

  And that’s the problem, Peggy thought. How was she supposed to tell people about everything she had in the shop if they didn’t come inside? She couldn’t have a sign outside that was large enough for her whole inventory. She was at the mercy of drop-ins to discover her, become great friends, and loyal customers.

  “How deep is your pond and what do you have in it now?” Peggy asked her.

  “It’s not very big. Maybe a foot deep. I put some water lilies in it last year. They filled the whole thing up, but it’s only leaves now, no flowers. Any ideas?”

  As Starr and Peggy talked, they realized that Starr’s pond wasn’t getting enough afternoon sun to make the flowers bloom.

  “You probably get enough sun for water irises,” Peggy told her. “Mine aren’t blooming in the pond right now, but they’re sensational. I have a couple of white ones and a few purple irises. They aren’t hard to grow at all.”

  Sam had joined them while they were talking. “You’ll have to pull out the water lilies. Sorry. The lilies will choke out the irises if you don’t.”

  Starr’s eyes lit up when she saw Sam. They shook hands as they introduced themselves. “Maybe you could come home with me and show me what I’m doing wrong.”

  Selena rolled her eyes at the typical female reaction to Sam. She got behind the counter to ring up Starr’s water iris purchase.

  “I’d be glad to.” Sam took out his phone and looked at his calendar. “I can be there at three, if that works for you.”

  Starr was still holding his left hand. “That totally works for me. Whatever you want to charge is fine. I have some house plants you could look at too.”

  They exchanged phone numbers and Starr gave him her address. Peggy recognized it as being in one of the new, expensive apartment residences downtown.

  “See you then,” Starr said.

  “I’ll be there.”

  Starr almost left without her irises. Selena reminded her.

  When the door had closed behind Starr, Selena took a deep breath. “Seriously? Why do all women act like Sam’s the gift of God?”

  “Don’t be jealous,” Peggy counseled. “Women like Sam, and it’s not only the way he looks. He’s very respectful and has a sweet way of talking.”

  Selena humphed. “All I can say is—her mistake.”

  “Don’t worry,” Sam said with a grin. “Someday a man will walk through that door looking for a woman like you. And even though I try to warn him off, he’s going to ask you out. I’m sure it will happen. Don’t give up.”

  “You’d better go throw some mulch around in back before I throw a flower pot at you,” Selena threatened.

  “Not one of the expensive ones, please,” Peggy said. “Will you take two more of those hand-painted pots outside to replace the ones that were purchased? Maybe they look better out there.”

  “And maybe that way the perfect man won’t have to come into the shop and find you,” Sam razzed. “If you’re out there on display, who knows what might happen?”

  “Okay. That’s enough.” Peggy’s cell phone rang and she stepped outside to answer it.

  It was Al. “I have some good news and some bad news.”

  “I’ll take the good first, please.”

  “Looks like we can have the investigation wrapped up sometime tonight, at least the crime scene part. The medical examiner gave you the all clear to open tomorrow.”

  Thank you, Dorothy! “And the bad news?”

  “Because of the nature of the crime and the victim being from out of town, the FBI will continue to assist the Charlotte PD on the case. Don’t blame me. I’m just the messenger.”

  “That’s fine. Except as the head of the flower show committee, I’m not really personally involved.”

  “Uh-huh. Did you get a phone call from Dr. Beck yet? I believe she mentioned using you on the case. It seems she wasn’t a fan of botany in school.”

  Peggy understood what he meant. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine. I can handle working with Steve on this.” If he can . . .

  “If you need a liaison, give me a call.”

  “Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Peggy put her phone away and thought about the visit from the fake Tanya Abutto. She should’ve mentioned that to Al.

  She started to call him back when her phone started ringing with vendors and growers. The shop was surprisingly busy too. Peggy kept thinking she should call Al back, but by the time she noticed, it was four-thirty and she still hadn’t called him.

  Sam was excited about the flower show opening again and upset that no one could go in to check on their exhibits until the doors opened tomorrow.

  He wasn’t the only one. Peggy called and texted participants who called and texted her back again, expressing their frustration that their living exhibits might be damaged without proper care that night.

  She repeated dozens of times that she had no control over what the police had determined to do during their investigation. At least the flower show would go on.

  A few more customers came in and made small purchases. Some regulars stopped in to gossip about what had happened at the convention center. They wanted to know all the juicy details.

  So did Sofia and Emil Balducci from the Kozy Kettle across the courtyard. Emil loved to gossip. With his broad Italian features, craggy brows, and shadowed dark eyes, he fancied himself quite a ladies man, unless Sofia was around.

  “Did you see the body?” Sofia asked as she crossed herself. “God forbid you’re cursed by it like my Uncle Francesco. He saw them dig up a murdered man once and he was dead the next day.”

  Peggy carefully smiled. Sofia could get a little upset when she openly laughed at some of her crazy curses and weird stories. The woman had one for everything that happened.

  “I’ll be careful,” she promised Sofia.

  “Why kill this man?” Emil asked. “He should’ve been carrying a Taser. I have one. Sofia does too. Show Peggy your Taser.”

  Sofia ran back to the shop and brought her Taser. It was more like a cattle prod, almost two feet long.

  “You could stun an elephant with that,” Selena said.

  “You never know,” Sofia said darkly, waving the Taser in the air. “Did I ever tell you about my cousin Rafe, who was killed by a rogue elephant?”

  Emil crossed himself. “It sat on him.”

  Selena turned away to hide her laughter. Sam hurried to the back of the shop with a muttered excuse.

  “So what are the police doing about this?” Emil asked Peggy. “When will they know who killed this poor man?”

  “I don’t know yet. They’re doing the best they can. I’ll let you know if there’s an arrest.”

  Sofia handed Peggy her Taser. “You should take this with you. There’s the curse, and my papa always said, wher
e there’s one murder, there could be two.”

  Chapter Six

  Oregano

  The first recorded usage of oregano was in ancient Greece. The plant’s use continued through the Middle Ages, and was considered a common spice to make bland foods more appetizing and disguise the taste of slightly spoiled meat. The plant was also used as a cure for rheumatism, toothache, and indigestion.

  Peggy insisted she couldn’t accept the Taser. “I’d feel terrible if you were mugged leaving your place tonight.”

  “She has me.” Emil pushed his fist against his wide chest. “You have a husband, but he’s never around. Would you like me to talk to him for you? A man should be there to protect his wife. It’s no good being a person who takes care of animals if you can’t take care of your family.”

  Peggy didn’t plan to tell Emil about Steve’s FBI job. It was bad enough that he had managed to figure out so much about her life on his own. He might have more respect for Steve being a federal agent than he did thinking Steve was a veterinarian. She didn’t care. She certainly didn’t want to have that conversation with Emil and Sofia.

  Tired but happy that the day was finally over, Peggy locked the front door to the garden shop as she left at five. Most of their business came in during the day when employees from banks and other offices around them went out for lunch. The Potting Shed was open banker hours, and the occasional Saturday morning.

  Sam had come back with good news about Starr’s pond. She wanted him to replace the entire thing and start over. It would be an expensive, short-term project for him.

  “I’ll lock up the back before I leave,” he said. “I want to go ahead and order everything for the pond today. See you tomorrow at the convention center.”

  “Okay.”

  “And Peggy?” Sam stopped her. “If you see anything out of the ordinary, look the other way. The flower show has to happen tomorrow, or it’s over.”

  “Right. I won’t look at anything. Goodnight, Sam.”