Peggy’s mother started out the door, but her plan to leave the two alone was foiled when Aunt Mayfield popped her head around the door. “Lilla, is dinner almost ready?”
“Almost.” Peggy’s mother tried to get her back out of the room.
But at that moment, the doorbell rang, and Paul brought bread into the dining room. “The rest of the food is on the way!”
The moment had not only passed, it had been trampled. Lilla sighed.
Thinking the worst, Peggy went to answer the front door. It was a messenger with a wonderful planter full of forget-me-nots. The blue flowers spilled over the sides and lay gracefully on the edges. “Thank you! Let me get my pocketbook.”
“Not necessary.” The young man held up his hand. “He took care of it. G’night.”
Peggy knew who they were from. Nightflyer was reminding her of their appointment at Myers Park that night. There was no card. There didn’t need to be.
“Nice flowers,” Steve commented as he walked out of the dining room. “Are they from Nightflyer?”
13
Cotton
Botanical: Gossypium
Family: Malvaceae
The cotton plant is actually a tree. The bolls that produce fluffy white material that can be made into cloth have been prized for centuries. It is still grown as a cash crop in many countries. The introduction of the boll weevil almost destroyed cotton production in the United States until radical procedures were introduced to prevent infestation.
PEGGY DIDN’T WANT TO LIE to him, but she didn’t want to play twenty angry questions, either. Her relationship with Nightflyer was one of the only things she and Steve couldn’t find a middle ground to stand on. She was going to meet Nightflyer tonight, no matter what. She didn’t want to break up with Steve over it. “They’re from a customer. She was very happy with the job we did on her pond last week.”
“Really? Forget-me-nots, right?”
“Yes. You learn quickly.” She put the pot of flowers down on the foyer table. “Are we ready to eat?”
“Yes.” He put his arms around her. “Be careful, Peggy. I’m worried about you and your dad snooping around this thing with Darmus and Luther.”
“I’m always careful.”
“Yeah. Right.” He rested his face against her hair. “That’s why Paul and I have had to get you out of scrapes before, because you’re always careful.”
“I try to be.” She sniffed, wanting to change the flow of the conversation. “Whatever you made in there certainly smells good.”
“All right. You don’t have to hit me with a thirty-two-foot blue spruce.” He looked at the tree beside them. “I’ve said what I wanted to say. Let’s eat dinner.”
Peggy was glad she hadn’t told him the flowers were from Nightflyer. If that would have led to him weaseling the truth out of her, he wouldn’t have let it alone. She planned to go to Myers Park that night and she didn’t want it to be an issue between them.
It had certainly occurred to her that Steve could be jealous. It was even exciting in a way. That Steve would see Nightflyer as a threat to their relationship was silly, of course. But it was also exciting, like walking down the wrong side of the street.
She managed to sit beside Sam at the crowded table. She was glad he hadn’t brought Holles with him. She wanted a chance to talk about him and see if there was anything he could tell her about Holles’s activities with Luther. As she passed the rice, she smiled at him. “How is Holles doing after finding out Darmus is still alive?”
“I think he’s okay.” Sam took the big bowl of rice. “I don’t think he wanted Darmus to be dead, Peggy. He just wants to work for Feed America. He knows all about what Darmus was doing. It makes sense.”
“Yes, I suppose it does.” She poured herself a glass of sweet tea. “Does he have a specialty in the field?”
“I’m not sure.” Sam glanced at her. “Why this sudden interest in Holles?”
“Not sudden. I went to see him today. I thought he might know something more about Feed America. He was so sweet.” She hoped the lie didn’t choke her.
Sam warmed up. “He’s a nice guy. We’re good together.”
“I’m so glad for you.”
“His family lives out in Stanly County,” he continued. “They own a huge dairy farm out there.”
“Really? I suppose that’s where he gets his love of plants then. What do they grow?”
“Are you going to sit there all night with the iced tea, Margaret?” her mother asked. “Naomi is gasping over here. This is some spicy food, Steve!”
“I’m fine,” Naomi said with a shy smile. “The food is very good.”
Peggy passed the tea anyway and talked with Paul on her other side for a few minutes. She told him about Darmus rediscovering his lost wife and son. But all the time, she was anxious to ask Sam more questions. Stanly County was where Luther’s church was. It was also a likely place to find cotton farms.
“I can’t believe he had a son all these years and didn’t know it.” Paul heaped some red beans on his rice. “I’m glad they were able to get back together now though. He’s going to need plenty of support through this. The DA isn’t crazy about brothers killing each other.”
“It seems kind of loose to me,” Sam said. “I mean, they found a hyacinth in Luther’s pocket. It was spiked with extra scent. That doesn’t seem like much of a case.”
Paul chewed the beans and rice in his mouth before adding, “It’s cut-and-dried for the DA. Everything points back to Darmus. I think they’ll have a strong case by the time they go to trial.”
“Hunter wants to know who’s representing Darmus,” Sam said to Peggy. “She says she’s being left out of the loop.”
“I know,” Peggy sympathized. “Tell her I wish she were representing him. But he hired a lawyer through Feed America.”
“Yeah,” her father agreed, “a real sharp. I wouldn’t trust him with my life.”
“Holles probably knows him.” Peggy tried to steer the conversation back to Holles. Oops! That didn’t come out the right way! “I mean, the lawyer has worked with Feed America before. Holles has probably met him there.”
“Oh.” Sam looked a little less offended. “You know, Peggy, I’m beginning to get the impression you don’t like Holles.”
“Why?”
“Because you try too hard to like him! Where are all the questions you usually ask? Where is that feeling that you’re constantly checking him out and you don’t approve? I’m used to that.”
“You want me to do that?” Peggy asked.
Cousin Melvin let out a gasping snore that woke him up, and he looked around the table, red-faced. “I’m sorry. Was I asleep?”
Everyone laughed, and the moment passed. Peggy wished her father would quit sending her furtive glances across the table. If she were closer, she’d kick him. He was about as suspicious as a blackbird in a cornfield. Everyone was going to know they were up to something if he didn’t stop.
Steve was the first to notice, of course. He kept looking her way all through dinner but didn’t actually speak to her until they were clearing the table. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“You have that look on your face.”
“Really? What look is that?” Really, I’m going to have to do something about this look everyone sees all the time.
“The look you get when you’re about to do something I wish you wouldn’t do.”
Peggy carefully took the Limoges serving bowl inlaid with tiny pink florets off the table. “This bowl was a gift from the first governor of South Carolina to my great-great-great-grandmother. No one was ever quite sure why, and no one asked too many questions when my great-great-grandfather came out looking more like the governor than my great-great-great-grandfather. It would be impolite to ask.”
“Meaning I shouldn’t ask what you’re planning?”
“I always wash this myself. It’s very valuable.” She showed him the governor’s signature
inside the bowl. The light caught on the twenty-four-karat gold rim. “I rarely use it.”
“Peggy—”
“I think you’re getting paranoid.”
“I’d agree. Except you have this knack for getting into trouble.”
“And getting out of it.”
“So you admit something is going on!”
“Something is always going on.”
“Peggy!”
“Good thing my name isn’t Lucy,” she quipped. “You’d sound just like Desi.”
He stepped forward to block the door into the kitchen as she would have walked by him. “Let me help.”
“There’s nothing to help with. Really. I think I might have a lead on who killed Luther, but it will have to wait until I talk to Al tomorrow.”
“No skullduggery?”
“I’m not really sure what that is, but I don’t think so.”
He kissed her and sighed. “Thank you.”
She hugged him with her free arm. “You’re welcome. I think I’ll get on the Internet and see what I can find out about Holles. I’m not getting anything from Sam.”
“Need any help?”
Hoping there wouldn’t be any messages from Nightflyer, she smiled. “I can always use your help.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He kissed her, and they went upstairs toward her bedroom.
“Now hold on a minute.” Peggy’s father stopped them. “No hanky-panky up there. Margaret Anne, I know you’ve been married, but you still need to watch your reputation. You’re a woman alone. You shouldn’t be having men up to your bedroom.”
“We’re going to look up some things on the Internet.” She looked down over the banister.
“Whatever you want to call it, it’s still wrong.”
Paul laughed as he dried his hands on a dishtowel. “Mom, you know what I’ve told you about hanky-panky. I’m always telling her about that.”
“You stay out of this!” Peggy warned.
“No, he has a right,” her father continued. “He’s your only son. He should be involved in the decisions you make.”
Peggy couldn’t believe it. She stared at her son and her father. Did they have to pick on her right now? “Is there something you wanted?” she addressed Paul.
“Yeah, Cousin Melvin needs some bacon grease. Got any handy?”
“You know I don’t! Why don’t you run to the Fresh Market and ask for some.”
“Okay!” He ducked his head. “I’m sorry I said anything.”
Ranson put his arm around Paul’s shoulders. “Don’t you make this boy feel bad about trying to do the right thing! He’s a good man like his daddy.”
Steve muttered, “If I had any ideas about bedroom hanky-panky, between the bacon grease and your relatives, I’d definitely be out of the mood.”
“Never mind that.” Peggy took his hand and led him toward the bedroom. “I’m fifty-two years old. I can take a man to my bedroom to look at the Internet or anything else I want to show him.”
“That sounds promising.” Steve grinned. “Maybe I’m still in the mood after all.”
Paul laughed and left them alone. But Peggy’s father was more persistent. “I’ll just come up there and help you out with that Internet thing.”
“Ranson!” Peggy’s mother called out from the second story. “For heaven’s sake stop picking at her. Stop being so obnoxious!”
“Oh, Lilla, you never let me have any fun.”
“Yes, I do. Now go and help clean the kitchen. I’m trying to rest!”
Peggy’s father shook his head. “All right.”
Her mother sighed. “It’s your own fault,” she told Peggy. “The two of you never take anything seriously.”
Thankfully there were no messages from Nightflyer waiting on her computer. She opened Explorer and went to Google Holles’s name.
Steve sat back in his chair as she scanned for information. “I don’t see anything saying he’s really a wanted fugitive from Idaho.”
“No.” She continued looking at entries. “But his thesis for college was about poisonous plants. That must count for something.”
“I don’t know.” He yawned. “I don’t think anyone is going to arrest him for that.”
Peggy thought for a moment. Nightflyer might have all the answers she needed about Holles. She’d wait until she talked to him before going any further. “You’re right.” She turned off the monitor and sat back with a sigh. “I don’t know what to do next.”
“I have a few ideas.” He kissed her slowly, passionately, his hands traveling up from her waist, across her breasts.
Peggy was surprised. She wasn’t sure what to expect from this romance that had come on her so suddenly and unexpectedly. They were very good friends. She and Steve kissed and hugged all the time, but they’d never discussed deepening their relationship.
She thought about it sometimes in bed at night, even though she knew she wasn’t supposed to. Being over fifty didn’t make the urge go away, but she’d decided it wasn’t necessary. If he didn’t think of her that way, she’d take what she could get. She wasn’t twenty anymore with desire coursing through her veins like wine. She was a sedate, matronly woman who’d already experienced her grand passion.
But that kiss made her pulse beat faster, her heart pound. The surprise she experienced when he felt her up (she wouldn’t dare call it that for fear no one said it anymore) must have shown in her eyes when she opened them to find him looking back at her.
“Are you okay?”
She knew he meant. Are you okay with what I just did? She nodded. “I was just . . . surprised.”
“In a good way?”
“Of course.”
He frowned. “Of course? Could you clarify that statement?”
Their conversation was interrupted by pounding on Peggy’s door. Her father bellowed, “It’s too quiet in there, Margaret Anne! What’s going on?”
“Can’t he remember when he was young?” Steve rested his forehead against hers.
“I think that’s the problem.” She grinned. “He remembers too well!”
“We’ll talk about this later. Okay?”
“All right.” She knew her voice sounded a little breathy and faint. She hoped he didn’t take that the wrong way.
Shakespeare and her father were waiting in the hall for them. “Can’t you get on the Internet without having your bedroom door closed?”
Peggy felt her face get hot. “That’s enough, Dad.” She flushed easily anyway. She wasn’t embarrassed by what happened between her and Steve. It was ridiculous at her age. She kept her back straight and her chin high as she went downstairs, despite the look of complete amusement on Steve’s face.
PEGGY HATED TO LIE to Steve. But she couldn’t take her eyes off her watch as they sat around talking. She was already planning how she was going to slip out of the house after everyone was in bed. Only her father was likely to be awake, and he’d be engrossed in a book. She might even be able to tell him the truth without him insisting he had to come. But it would be better for him not to know. Of course this would have to happen at a time when she had a house full of company!
She had to admit she was curious to see what Nightflyer would look like. Her heart pounded, and her face felt flushed. She wasn’t romantically interested, she kept telling herself as the minutes dragged by and she lost track of the conversation. She was curious because she knew so little about him. That was all. It was a midnight fling with adventure for a woman who didn’t have too many adventures in her life.
That sobered her. What if he was using her somehow? She didn’t like to admit to being vulnerable. She was a sane, rational woman. A scientist.
This is different. I’m meeting him because he has information about Luther and Darmus. It wasn’t the same as sneaking out to meet John when they were dating. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She knew what she was doing.
But now that she had some doubt in her mind about how sane and rational it was to
meet a man she’d never met in Myers’s Park at midnight, the time suddenly began to fly. She found she couldn’t hold on to the minutes. Paul and Sam said their good nights and left. So did Steve. She walked him out to his SUV and kissed him in the light from the new crescent moon.
“Good night, Peggy.” He smiled and nuzzled her neck. “Anything on tap for tomorrow?”
“I’m going to plant a white garden and talk to Al. That’s about it.”
“I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
He studied her face. “Something wrong?”
“No.” She yawned. “Just tired. It’s been a busy week.”
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before.”
“Even I get tired. Thanks for cooking dinner tonight and taking my mom out today.”
“My pleasure. I like your mother. She reminds me of you.”
“Really?” She could hardly believe it was true. She was nothing like her mother. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”
He laughed as he opened the door to the Vue. “Sorry! I didn’t mean it to be offensive.”
“No offense taken.” She waved to him as he started the engine. “Good night.”
She looked up at the night sky, shivering a little in the chill breeze that reminded her it was still spring. In another month it would be seventy-five degrees at night. If she was going to ride her bike to the park, she was going to have to dress warm. It might be insane, but she was going to meet Nightflyer.
Peggy went inside and said good night to her cousin and her aunt. They were already climbing the stairs with her mother and Naomi. Her mother seemed to have adopted the poor girl. “Why don’t you put in one of those stair machines,” Aunt Mayfield huffed when she saw her. “It would make this much easier. You’re not a spring chicken yourself anymore, Margaret!”
Peggy agreed and went to kiss her father good night. He was in the den with the television on, turned low, and a book in his lap. It was the way she remembered him best. He always had to do more than one thing at a time. She felt fortunate she took after him. Her mother was different. She was more focused, always knowing how to get things done. She had to do things her way, one step at a time.
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