by Joyce Lavene
Peggy smiled. “You never know.”
Traffic seemed to be confined to the convention center area. Once they got out of that congestion, there were very few cars. They reached the medical examiner’s office and morgue in only a few minutes. Mai was sitting on the front steps, waiting for Paul.
After they’d parked, Paul eagerly ran to his wife’s side. Mai was of Vietnamese descent with huge, almond-shaped brown eyes and a pretty face. Most of the time, that young face was hidden behind a microscope or heavy, black-rimmed glasses. Today in the sunshine, her long black hair was down on her shoulders and her smile was sweet when she saw Paul. Her belly was getting rounded in her fourth month of pregnancy.
“Hey there!” He wasted no time kissing her. “What are you thinking about for lunch?”
“Hello, Peggy.” Mai looked at her mother-in-law. “Would you like some lunch too?”
“No thanks. I’ve already eaten. You two go on. I don’t think I need protecting for a while.”
Mai put her arm around Paul. “I was thinking about walking down to where all the food trucks park. We could have our pick.”
“Sounds good.” He winked at his mother before he turned away. “You won’t believe the morning I’ve had.”
Peggy was glad they seemed so happy together. She knew a child on the way could be difficult. She also knew it only got harder from there, but she was thrilled by the idea of being a grandmother!
She went inside the building and greeted the security guard there. He ran her bag and everything from her pockets through a scanner as they talked about his wife and young son.
“He’s having a hard time getting to sleep at night,” the guard told Peggy. “We’re worn out every day. The doctor doesn’t seem to know what to do.”
“Have you tried a little chamomile before bed? It might do a world of good.”
“Is that okay for him to take? He’s only three.”
“Of course. I gave it to my son. It won’t be forever. Sometimes children go through these things. You can buy it in any grocery store. Look it up on the Internet. Ask your doctor, if you’re unsure.”
Peggy wrote the word chamomile on the back of a piece of paper from her bag.
“Thanks a lot. I think we’ll give this a try.”
She picked up a white lab coat with her name on it and went to her desk. There were dozens of Post-its all over the surface of the desk and the lampshade. Before she could look at any of them, Dorothy found her.
“It’s about time. Do we want to solve this homicide or not? I need my forensic botanist, not the plant lady for a while. Have you had lunch?”
Chapter Eleven
Geranium
Geraniums are sometimes referred to as storkbills for their wild first cousins, pelargonium. They bloom throughout the world in temperate areas. What is known now as the true geranium is a product of years of extensive breeding to produce dozens of colors and various shaped flowers. Their scent made them a favorite during England’s Victorian era.
Peggy was glad she’d had lunch already. Dorothy took her back to the morgue where they looked at Dr. Abutto’s body on the slab.
“Now I know all this stuff,” Dorothy held up a pink flower, “is thyme. You told me that. What I’m wondering is what this other stuff is? Specifically, does it have anything to do with his death? We found it all over.”
Peggy looked at the sample of the greenery in the plastic container marked with a question mark. “That’s easy too. It looks like some geranium petals mixed with some mum petals. It wouldn’t be surprising for you to have found this on him. These two flowers have been used a lot at the convention center.”
“Great.” Dorothy took a deep breath. “I know you said the thyme had some meaning to people who believe in that kind of thing.”
“Yes. It was a way of conveying messages that was created in the Victorian age.”
“What about the geranium and the mums?”
Peggy looked at Dorothy’s anxious face. “Well, geraniums mean gentility and mums have different meanings according to their color. This one is spray painted so it’s hard to say.”
“But nothing threatening, huh?”
“No. Not really. Sorry.”
Dorothy looked at the body before she covered it again. “I was hoping you might be able to provide some clues.”
Peggy noticed another plastic container on the table. “What’s this?”
“We thought it was probably pollen or some other botanical element. It’s just white dust. It wasn’t even inside of him or anything. I didn’t think it looked important.”
Dorothy handed her the container. Peggy shifted it back and forth in her gloved hands.
“I don’t know exactly what it is, but I can tell you it’s not botanical. Are you sure it’s not some kind of drug?” She told the ME about the missing bag. “There’s been some conjecture on whether or not he might’ve been smuggling drugs into the country with his orchids.”
“I didn’t know that.” Dorothy looked at the white substance. “Why am I always the last to know? We’ll have it tested. Thanks.”
Peggy looked at her friend’s covered corpse. “I’ve talked to Aris for years. We’d never met, but once we had when he got here for the show, I didn’t notice that he was different at all from the kind, knowledgeable man I’d had dealings with. I find it hard to believe he’d smuggle drugs here. He was so against them.”
Dorothy shrugged one thin shoulder. “You never know. Human nature changes. Maybe he didn’t want to do it. Maybe it was something he felt he couldn’t avoid.”
“Maybe so.”
“He has a daughter, right?” Dorothy looked at his file. “How old is she?”
“I think somewhere between eighteen and twenty. I wonder if they’ve told her about his death yet. I’d call her but I’ve never spoken with her. Aris was very private about his personal life.”
“It’s probably for the best anyway.” Dorothy left the autopsy room. “Professionals know how to handle this kind of thing. They do it every day.”
Peggy remembered what it had been like the night John had died. She’d been lucky. Al was the one who’d come to her front door and told her what had happened. She disagreed with Dorothy’s assessment. It was better to hear bad news from someone who cared about you.
“I don’t have anything else right now.” Dorothy left Peggy at her desk. “I’m sorry I had to insist on you coming in right away. It was kind of a bust.”
“That’s okay. I had someone who could cover for me. Besides, the city and county pay me pretty well to be at your beck and call.”
Dorothy looked like she was going to sneeze and laughed instead. “I get it! Beck. That’s my name. Police humor. I love it. See you later.”
That wasn’t what Peggy had meant but she smiled as she checked all the notes on her desk before she trashed them. She called Paul. He was on his way back from the Goofy Gyros truck with Mai. He said he’d be ready to leave in a few minutes.
Peggy went backwards through her routine, grabbing her bag, hanging up her coat. She waved to the guard at the door and went outside to wait.
It was too beautiful a day to be inside. Even with the large glass ceiling on the convention center and being surrounded by every plant imaginable, it still wasn’t the same. She sat on the steps, as Mai had done. She was about to call Steve and see what he was up to when her cell phone rang.
She didn’t recognize the number and the name came up as unknown. With a little flutter in her stomach, she pressed the button to answer the call. “Nightflyer?”
“Good guess,” was his reply.
His voice was scratchy, growling. She wasn’t sure if it was on purpose and he was disguising his voice or if he sounded that way. She’d only met him once, briefly.
“Where are you?” She scanned the area as though he might be hiding behind one of the cars in the parking lot.
“I can’t tell you that. Let’s say I’m not in Charlotte. I only have a few minu
tes to talk. I’ll throw away this phone when we’re done.”
“Okay. Do you have something important to the case?”
“I do. Think about one of the principle exports of South Africa. After that, think about the only thing precious enough that could make your friend give up his life.”
Peggy’s eyes got wide as her mind raced. “Are you saying—”
“Think about it.”
She knew he was about to hang up. She had to get in one last question. “You knew about Steve, didn’t you? Did you know he thinks you might’ve been involved in John’s death?”
The line went dead. She uttered a curse that had once earned her a spanking when she was eight-years-old the first time she’d repeated it after hearing her father say it.
“Was that news from Steve?” Paul asked as he walked up with Mai.
“No. It was Adam telling me about some problems at the show.” She put away her phone. There was no way of knowing when she might be able to ask those questions again.
She hoped telling Nightflyer about Steve’s investigation into him didn’t compromise his work. She probably shouldn’t have asked the question, but the knowledge that John’s death wasn’t what it had seemed was gnawing at her.
“Not surprising,” Paul said. “I heard from Al and Captain Sedgwick. They both had plenty to say about you grilling Dabney Wilder. He got on the phone with them and the DA, not to mention the mayor, as soon as we left. I’m going to be writing parking tickets for the next ten years.”
“That’s crazy.” Peggy hoped she could set things right for him, if it came down to it. “I asked the questions. You had to be there because you were protecting me.”
“Yeah. I think I need someone to protect me.”
Mai kissed him and smiled at Peggy. “I might as well go back to work if we’re going to talk shop. This isn’t as interesting as the dead body waiting for me inside. I’ll see you later, sweetie.”
They kissed again and Peggy could see that Paul only let her go with great reluctance. It was sweet and poignant. How wonderful it was to be young and in love!
“We’re on our way back to the show, right?” Paul started walking toward the car.
“Yes. I’m afraid I wasn’t much help to Dr. Beck. I couldn’t identify what might be the most important aspect of the trace evidence they found on him.”
Paul opened the car door for her. “Was this some weird, little known plant specimen? I thought you knew them all.”
“This wasn’t a plant at all. I’m not sure what it was. It looked like fine white dust. They’re checking it out.” She thought about what Nightflyer had said but didn’t understand it enough to discuss it. She wished she knew how he always knew what was going on.
His words made her feel as though she was right about Aris. Maybe it appeared that he had been doing something wrong, but he might’ve been killed for trying to do the right thing.
They drove back to the convention center in heavier traffic. When Paul saw the huge crowd at the flower show, he made his mother wait to get out of the car until he could park and get out with her.
“You left me waiting there earlier. I don’t see what the big fuss is now.”
“I don’t want to lose you in the crowd. Think how bad it would look on my record if I lost my own mother.” He grinned and hugged her. “Cheer up. Al says if nothing strange happens today, you’re on your own again tomorrow.”
She kissed his cheek. “Like that would ever be a good thing!”
They started crossing the busy road together during a lull in traffic. Peggy heard the sound of a car moving very quickly. When she looked up, the car was already on them.
Before she could react, Paul yelled, “Mom! Look out!”
He wrapped his arms around her and threw both of their bodies out of the path of the fast-moving car. They rolled on the pavement as the car whizzed by without slowing down.
Several bystanders rushed to see if they were all right, complaining about traffic and wondering who was responsible. Two women helped Peggy to her feet.
Paul was still on the ground. Peggy grabbed his hand.
“Are you all right?” she asked her son. “Do you need an ambulance?”
With the help of another man, Peggy helped her son to his feet. He looked dazed but said he was fine.
“Are you okay?” he asked her as they both heard the sounds of sirens coming from the distance.
“Maybe a little bruised.” She hugged him carefully. “You saved my life.”
“Just doing my duty, ma’am.” He grinned then rubbed the side of his face that had been scratched by the pavement. “I can tell tomorrow will be fun. I probably won’t be able to walk. I think my bruises have bruises.”
By the time the two Charlotte PD cars stopped, and the officers got out to check on the situation, Peggy and Paul were asking the people who’d helped them what they had seen.
“What’s going on?” the first officer to arrive asked. “Is that you, Paul? Were you hurt?”
They explained the situation to the officers. Paul gave them the information they had.
“It was a black Mercedes. The license number started with MLB. I only saw one person in the car.”
“I think I saw a sticker from Friendly Car Rentals, the place at the airport.” One of the women who’d helped Peggy up added to the description.
“There was a black Mercedes with that sticker at The Potting Shed when the first Tanya came to visit me,” Peggy whispered to her son. She gave him the partial plate she remembered.
Paul gave the information to one of the officers and then turned to the small group of witnesses. “I want to thank everyone for their cooperation. If we don’t have your name and phone number already, please give it to us so we can get in touch with you if we need to.”
The two responding officers chuckled.
“Leave it to Paul to investigate his own hit and run.”
“I don’t think the driver was aiming for me.” He looked at his mother. “I think you were the target.”
Chapter Twelve
Sunflower
It is believed that Native American tribes cultivated the sunflower as early as 2,000 BC. It is native to the US, taken back to Europe and spread across the world by explorers and botanists. It has been used for dozens of purposes, including food and medicinal uses. Cultivation included bigger seeds and larger crops. People around the world came to realize the usefulness of this plant quickly as the seeds were eaten and pressed for oil. They were also used to remove warts and treat strokes.
Peggy heard her cell phone ring. It was on the street with her lipstick and sunglasses that had fallen out of her bag. She went to answer it, limping a little, and could see Steve’s face on the screen, but the rest of the phone wasn’t working. The screen was broken and apparently, the phone was damaged inside too.
“That’s going to be a problem.” She picked up all her belongings and stuffed them into her bag again. One of the straps on the bag was also broken.
“What’s up?” Paul asked, looking at the broken strap. “It’s just a pocketbook, Mom. You can get another.”
“It was a one hundred and sixty five dollar handbag,” she said tartly. “And you’re right, I can get another. My cell phone is broken too. Steve tried to call.”
Paul’s cell phone started ringing. “Guess who?”
He tapped the name on the screen. “Hi, Steve. She’s right here. We had a small problem, but we’re okay—except for Mom’s phone and pocketbook.” He held out the phone to Peggy.
“I’m okay,” she told Steve. “Paul thinks someone tried to run me down. I think it was the same car at The Potting Shed with the fake Tanya.”
“Are you on your way to the hospital?” Steve asked in an anxious voice. “I’m on my way there now.”
“Don’t go to the hospital,” she cautioned. “We’re really fine. We’re both a little bruised, but we’re going on to the flower show.”
“Peggy—you should have
someone take a look at you.”
“Al just pulled up, Steve. I have to go.” She gave the phone back to Paul with a shake of her head.
It only took a moment before Al’s phone rang too. Al managed to say the right words that allayed Steve’s fears. When he was done talking, he hung up. “He’s on his way here anyway. There wasn’t anything I could say to prevent it.”
Paul, Peggy, and the responding officers, explained everything again to Al. By this time, the witnesses had gone into the flower show. Al had the officers get traffic moving again as he, Paul, and Peggy moved out of the middle of the street.
“This was exactly what I was afraid of.” Al shook his head. “Thank goodness you were here, son. You probably saved your mother’s life.”
Paul took the praise uncomfortably and changed the subject. “So what now? The two women who approached Mom about the missing duffel bag want to get rid of her? That doesn’t make any sense. If they’d kidnapped her to get the information, that would be different.”
Al put his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know. Peggy manages to stick her nose in so many places that it doesn’t belong, it could be anyone.”
“Including Dabney Wilder.” Peggy told him what Pete the security guard had said about Dabney’s fight with Tim in the parking lot.
“First of all,” he reminded her, “you don’t have positive ID on Tim Roseboro. Just because a description sounds like someone, doesn’t make it so.”
“They were together at the flower show too,” Peggy added. “They looked—uncomfortable. I think something is going on between them.”
“And second of all, you weren’t supposed to discuss any of this with Dabney Wilder,” Al continued. “He’s a lawyer. He could sue all of us. Leave him alone. Come to think of it, leave Roseboro alone too. Take care of your flower show. It seems like that would be enough to keep you occupied.”
They had reached the front door of the convention center by then. Peggy held the door for a few dozen people to leave. It was getting on in the day. Visitors that had arrived early were leaving.
“I’m taking care of the flower show. I was with Dr. Beck earlier and identified some plants that had nothing to do with Aris’s death. I’m part of this investigation, Al, whether you like it or not. I’d rather not be run over, but if you can figure out who was driving that Mercedes that almost killed us, we might have another piece of the puzzle.”