Poisoned Petals

by Joyce; Jim Lavene

  Al finally picked up on the other end of the line. “Do you know what time it is?”

  “It’s me, Al. I have something important to tell you.”

  “Peggy? What’s so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

  She told him about Abekeni and Naomi.

  “Are you sure this time? I think I heard Rimer say something about charging you for the wrong hunches.”

  “I’m sure. And Naomi is willing to tell you what she told me in exchange for consideration from the DA.”

  Naomi nodded slowly.

  “So you don’t need to keep Holles Harwood any longer.”

  “We don’t have him. Your friend Sam told us they were together when Luther’s death took place. Then we found out the cottonseed DNA didn’t match.”

  “What?”

  “That’s right. Dr. Ramsey got a call. He said the DNA didn’t match.”

  Peggy considered his words. Abekeni knew something about biology, but he didn’t know enough to use cottonseeds from the same plant. “So Darmus won’t be released?”

  “Not unless you really have a different answer this time.”

  “I think I really do. Can you meet us at the precinct?”

  Al agreed to meet them there in twenty minutes. Peggy hung up as Naomi’s cell phone started ringing.

  “It’s Abekeni.” Naomi saw the number on the display. “What should I do?”

  “Nothing. Just ignore it. Let’s go to the police station. We need to get this whole thing straightened out.”

  Naomi put her shoes and jacket on while Peggy got her pocketbook and keys for the truck. Her computer was chiming with a message, but she ignored it and left her room.

  “He’s calling again.” Naomi showed her the cell phone. “Maybe I should answer it. He might get suspicious.”

  “I think he’s more likely to get suspicious if he talks to you. You might say the wrong thing.”

  Naomi agreed, and the phone stopped ringing. She shivered as they hurried downstairs. “I’m afraid anyway. Abekeni is very perceptive. He might already know I’m about to betray him.”

  “I think that’s unlikely.” Peggy locked the kitchen door behind her as they stepped out into the breezy night. “We’re only a few minutes from the precinct. We’ll be fine.”

  Peggy opened the garage door, the wind creaking in the newly sprung oak leaves and whispering through the rafters on the house. It was coming from the south, tantalizing with a hint of ocean air that reminded her of Charleston.

  She glanced up at the house. The light was still on in the sitting room. She wished she’d thought to bring her father with her. It felt like the devil himself was after her. It was fanciful, but she would have felt safer with him there.

  She got behind the wheel of the truck, hurrying Naomi to get into the passenger side. The engine started easily. She turned to look at the rearview mirror. Abekeni’s face was looking back at her. He smiled and held a small caliber revolver up to the window.

  Naomi screamed.

  Peggy wanted to scream, but the sound was trapped in her throat. She thought it might be nice sometime to be the one who screamed and covered her eyes. Sometimes it might be nice to slink down on the floor and not look at what was going to happen next. But that wasn’t what life had in store for her.

  Instead, she rolled down her window, acting much braver than she felt, and stared at Abekeni. “Does your mother know about any of this?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Of course not! She was happy getting a few thousand dollars a month from him. She was still willing to take his leftovers.”

  “But not you?”

  “No. Not when I figured out a way to have it all.” He nodded at the key in the ignition. “Turn off the truck.”

  Peggy did as she was told for now. But she watched him carefully, waiting for any chance to take advantage of a chink in his armor.

  He went back and closed the garage door as Naomi plucked up her courage and got out of the truck. “I wasn’t going to say anything. You have to believe me.”

  As a partner in crime went, Peggy thought, she’d take Steve any day. Naomi folded like a dry geranium when confronted. No wonder Abekeni didn’t want her in Charlotte.

  “It sounds like you’ve already said something.” He smiled at her in a sad, strange way. “I’m afraid it’s too late to go back to the way it was before.”

  “What are you going to do?” Peggy asked. “Keep us trapped in the garage forever? My friend, Detective Al McDonald, is waiting for us at the uptown precinct. When I don’t show up right away, he’s going to come and look for me.”

  “How long do you think that will take?” he asked her. “And when he finally comes looking, how long until he finds you here in the garage?”

  It seemed like a simplistic plan to her, but she kept her opinions to herself. If he wanted to do something so easy, that was fine with her. The garage was a little damp and cold, it would make her sinuses uncomfortable for a few days, but it certainly wouldn’t kill her.

  “Why did you come looking for Naomi?”

  “When she didn’t answer the phone, I thought something was wrong. When I saw the two of you sneaking out of the house, I knew it.”

  “Please,” Naomi begged, “I’ll do anything you ask. Please don’t hurt me.”

  He stroked her hair with a gentle hand, but the gun didn’t waver. “Get back in the truck, please.”

  He tied them both with some rope he found on the side wall with the tools. Then he took their cell phones and put them in his pocket.

  Naomi started crying piteously.

  “Don’t worry.” He hushed her. “It will be over very quickly.”

  He reached around Peggy, who was tied to the steering wheel, and started the engine. “They say asphyxiation is an easy death. No pain. You just go to sleep.”

  Naomi begged and pleaded. Peggy glanced at Abekeni. “You don’t want to do this. Please reconsider.”

  “I’m sorry you got in the middle of all this.” He sounded very sincere. “But I can’t leave you two to run around and tell everyone what you know.”

  He opened the windows in the truck and closed the doors. He smiled and kissed Naomi, who cried and begged him again to change his mind, asking him to take her with him. “Good night, Naomi. Take deep breaths. Make it easy on yourself.”

  Peggy examined the knots in the rope that held her to the steering wheel until he turned off the lights in the garage and shut the door behind him. It was completely dark, impossible to tell how to negotiate the ropes. She leaned her head back against the seat and waited.

  “Don’t give up,” Naomi urged her. “We may still have a chance if your friend comes looking for you. Try not to breathe.”

  Peggy laughed. “Not breathing is a little hard. But you don’t have to worry. The carbon monoxide from this truck isn’t going to kill us, because there isn’t any.”

  “What are you saying? Are you already delirious?”

  “This truck is electric,” Peggy explained. “As soon as we think it’s safe, we can turn on the lights and get out of here. I want to make sure he’s gone and not still watching, until he thinks we’re dead.”

  “Thank God!” Naomi cried out. “You’re a genius, Peggy.”

  “Thanks. But I really didn’t do it to save my life except in a roundabout way.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It means I’ll get to turn in that selfish, stupid, immoral—”

  “That’s true.”

  “How long should we wait?”

  “I’m not really sure. I can’t see my watch.” Peggy figured it didn’t matter how long it was. Until they got free of their ropes, they couldn’t get out of the truck unless she wanted to try to drive that way. The chances were, insurance wouldn’t cover her backing through the garage door, even if it was an emergency.

  So she concentrated on the ropes and told Naomi to do the same. The rope was the thin, plastic-coated kind that was difficult to get apart when it w
as tied tight. She’d used it to tie up trees a few years back after a bad ice storm.

  Peggy thought about everything Abekeni said while he was getting rid of them. He didn’t know about Holles being released yet or that his cottonseed evidence wouldn’t hold up to forensic investigation. But when he did, he was going to realize Holles was still an obstacle.

  She couldn’t help but notice how cold and methodical he was about killing her and Naomi. She had no doubt he would be as cold about killing Holles. She was surprised he didn’t think about it in the first place. Perhaps he thought the police might be too suspicious if another Feed America director died right away.

  What would his plan be? She considered some ideas while she worked on the knots he used to tie her to the truck. How would he try to get rid of Holles?

  “I got the knot out!” Naomi said in triumph.

  “Quick!” Peggy encouraged. “Turn on the light so I can see my hands. We should alert the police. Abekeni might try to kill Holles when he finds out his plan to frame him for Luther’s death didn’t work.”

  But Naomi opened the truck door and got out. “I’m sorry, Peggy. I know you mean well, but I can’t do this to Abekeni. You don’t realize how terrible his life has been because of his father abandoning him. I’m going to apologize. Maybe there is still time for us to get away.”

  “Don’t be silly, Naomi! This is your only chance to straighten things out.”

  “I’m sorry,” the girl said again as she took the keys from the ignition in the truck and put them in her pocket. “I don’t want to hurt you, just slow you down a little. With any luck, Abekeni and I will be gone before anyone finds you here.”

  “Well, you’ve done it now, Margaret Anne!” Peggy said in the quiet that was left after Naomi was gone. She was still tied to the steering wheel, but now the truck wasn’t running, so she couldn’t back through the garage door even if she wanted to.

  What was left? There was always an alternative if one looked for it. She continued to stretch and strain to get her hands free. Then she recalled that the garage door opener was in her pocketbook. She didn’t think about having to use it, smug in her knowledge that her position wasn’t lethal. She only had to figure out a way to get it out with her pocketbook on the floor.

  She pushed off one shoe and used her foot to feel around in her pocketbook. She felt the garage door opener, but she couldn’t pull it up with her sock on. She took off her other shoe and used her left foot to take the sock off her right foot.

  She got the sock off and used her toes to grab hold of the opener. She was trying to push it up her leg to her lap where she could push on it with her elbow, but it kept sliding down her leg.

  She pushed hard on it with the ball of her foot and heard the sound of the garage door opening behind her. She didn’t know how it was possible, and she didn’t care. All she had to do was figure out how to attract some attention and get out of the garage.

  Peggy thought about ways to get attention from people in the house. She tried beeping the horn and was immediately sorry she hadn’t checked it out sooner when she’d noticed there was a problem. It wouldn’t work at all.

  “All right,” she promised herself. “That’s on my to-do list as soon as I get out of here.”

  But without the horn, what was left?

  She knew her father was still awake. If she could get him to notice that something was wrong, that might do it. The only other creature in the house likely to hear her was Shakespeare. She didn’t know how well her voice would carry, but she started yelling for him. “Shakespeare! Come on, boy! Come on, Shakespeare! Come on, boy!”

  She whistled and called until her lips were too dry to pucker up. Even then she kept calling. Dogs have very sensitive hearing. Shakespeare knew Steve was coming when he left his house. She knew he could hear her calling him from the yard.

  “All right! All right!” She was finally rewarded when she heard her father’s voice in the yard. “You better have to go and not just want to chase a squirrel!”

  “Dad!” She traded names. “Dad! Can you hear me? I’m in the garage!”

  Ranson poked his head in through the doorway. “Margaret? Are you in here?”

  “Yes! Tied to the steering wheel. Can you come and cut this rope?”

  Ranson ran into the garage, switched on the light, and used the knife in his pocket to cut the ropes that held her. “Shakespeare started going crazy in there. I thought he must have to go out in the worst way. He was doing everything but standing in my lap trying to get my attention.”

  “We have to find Naomi and Abekeni.” Peggy threw the last of the rope that held her to the concrete floor.

  “What happened out here? Where is Naomi?”

  “After her lover tried to kill us, she got free and left to find him,” Peggy explained. “I have to go to the precinct and tell Al.”

  “Don’t leave without me!” He let Shakespeare into the truck before him. “I found my pistol. I’m ready for action!”

  “Dad!” Peggy shook her head, but she didn’t have time to argue. “Okay. You can go. But you have to leave the pistol in the truck.”

  “Fine. Well, unless I see those polecats who tried to do you in! Let’s get ’em, sweet pea!”

  Peggy knew she was going to be sorry, but she didn’t want to waste any more time. She found her spare set of keys and drove quickly to the precinct, not paying any attention to the speed limit signs and hoping someone would want to pull her over. But Queens Road was empty, and the ride to the precinct was uneventful.

  She got out of the truck and ran inside, her father and Shakespeare following her. “I have to see Detective McDonald!” she told the sergeant at the front desk. “It’s an emergency!”

  Shakespeare barked for good measure, wagging his tail with excitement, his huge tongue lolling out of his mouth.

  “I’ll call him,” the sergeant promised, eyeing them warily. “Maybe you should take a seat.”

  But Peggy didn’t wait. The door to the back offices buzzed open, and she took advantage of the moment, running through without looking back. She could hear her father and the desk sergeant competing with Shakespeare to see who could complain the loudest. She didn’t care. She raced back to Al’s office, still next to John’s old office, and threw open his door.

  “Peggy! I was wondering what happened to you.” Al pushed out of his chair and glared at her. “Another few minutes, and I was going home.”

  “Get on the phone,” she told him. “You have to alert Holles Harwood. Get a car over there. Abekeni might try to kill him tonight.”

  “Abekeni? You mean Darmus’s son? What in the world—?”

  “Just do it.” She collapsed into the chair in front of his desk. “Let’s not sacrifice anyone else, please.”

  He grabbed the phone. “Peggy, you better be right.”

  “In this case, I’m sure you’d rather be embarrassed than wrong.”

  Al made the call. Peggy filled him in on what happened. The hands moved slowly around the wide clock face on the pale green wall. Ranson and Shakespeare joined them after Al told the sergeant it was all right. They spoke in muffled tones as though they wouldn’t be able to hear the phone when it rang telling them what happened.

  Al’s radio sounded first, filling the room. “Shots fired. One officer down at the scene.” He got up from his seat. “Officer Lee is injured. Send backup to 121 Hampstead Place.”

  Peggy jumped to her feet, not knowing if she could breathe. Her chest was so tight she might have been afraid she was having a heart attack if she could think of anything except losing Paul.

  “Don’t panic.” Al grabbed his gun and his coat. “Stay here. I’ll let you know when I know something.”

  “Take me with you, or I’ll follow you,” she barked. “You know I’m not staying here!”

  Al shook his head. “Come on. But don’t get in the way!”

  “One hundred and twenty-one Hampstead Place is where Holles lives.” She walked quickly
beside him, leaving Ranson and Shakespeare to bring up the rear.

  “Then it might be Abekeni. My God, how much more does Darmus have to take?”

  Peggy didn’t say another word as Al drove through the night streets like a NASCAR driver. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t actually think besides a cold, analytical portion of her brain that kept pace with what they were doing. Drive down Tryon to Highway 49. Get off on the ramp. Follow the signs to Hampstead Apartments. Oh, God, please let Paul be all right.

  At that moment, she didn’t care about anything other than that. Nothing mattered. Not Darmus or Abekeni, not herself. Her mind replayed over and over the night John was killed. She saw Al’s face when he came to tell her. The face of the surgeon who told her there was nothing he could do. Her own face in the mirror at home when it was over, realizing he was gone. She didn’t even recognize herself.

  There were already flashing lights in the apartment complex when they got there. An ambulance crew was getting out and starting toward a dark, grassy area illuminated by the orange lights above their heads. Two police cars were there, officers keeping the growing crowd back from the site.

  She saw Rosie on the ground and for a moment, she thought she was hurt. Then she realized she was crying over Abekeni’s still form. Her face was distorted in anger and grief. Naomi knelt on the ground beside her, a lost and bewildered look on her face.

  “I don’t see Paul,” Peggy said to Al, fear tasting like brine in her mouth. “Where is he?”

  “He’s here.” Al’s voice was calm and deep. “He’s here somewhere.”

  They rode around to the left of the crime scene. Al parked the car as Ranson tried to contain Shakespeare, who was throwing himself against the window. Peggy was out before Al could turn off the engine, searching the faces of the people there. Officers took statements from onlookers, glancing at her as she walked by. A paramedic rolled another stretcher from the back of an ambulance while his partner called in someone’s vital signs.

  It was at that moment that Peggy saw her son. He was sitting on a curb beside the ambulance holding a thick wad of bandage on his forearm. Blood, a strange dark shade against the white, seeped out around his hand.