by Joyce Lavene
“Thanks, Dad. I think he is, too.” She told him how they met. “Meeting him has changed my life. And maybe he’s using me for something. If so, I don’t want to know. I guess that’s why I kept my mouth shut with Darmus.”
“I think that was the best course of action.” Her father commended her. “So let’s go and shake down Luther’s office.”
“Shake down?” Peggy laughed as she got in the truck.
“Yeah. You know. Fine PI you are!”
Peggy called Naomi to let her know they were coming out to the church. It wasn’t a great distance, but it wasn’t worth the trip if they couldn’t get inside to look around.
Traffic was light going out of the city, and the drive to Albemarle was fast. Sometimes it was much slower. The small town was only about thirty miles from Charlotte, but some of the way was still two-lane roads. It was easy to get stuck behind a tractor running slowly down the highway.
The church looked deserted when they got there, but Naomi was waiting for them out front. “Peggy! It’s good to see you! How are things coming with the investigation?”
Peggy introduced her father to Luther’s assistant. Then she answered Naomi. “Slow. The police believe Luther was murdered. I’m sorry. They think his brother did it.”
Naomi’s pretty face was troubled. “Would Darmus do something like that? Who would hurt their own brother?”
“No, he wouldn’t have hurt Luther,” Peggy reiterated. If only words could make it so. “But I’m trying to find out who did kill Luther.”
“Are you looking for something out here?”
“Yes. I’d like to take a look at Luther’s office, if you don’t mind. There may be something there that could give us some answers.”
“Of course.” Naomi led the way. “What do you think might be here?”
“I don’t know.” Peggy told her what she knew about Luther’s death. “So you see, whoever killed him knew about his asthma. They planted the information in Darmus’s office to make it look like he was responsible.”
Naomi stared off into the distance. “It’s so strange not having Luther here. I’m glad I can step in until another minister gets here. I would hate for the congregation to fall apart.”
“I’m sorry.” Peggy took the girl’s hand. “I’m going on about his death and not even considering how terrible this has been for you.”
“I’ll be okay.” Naomi brought her gaze back to Peggy’s. “It’s just so lonely out here by myself. There’s not much to do during the week and too much to think about.”
“Never mind,” Peggy said. “As soon as we get done here, you’ll have to come back to Charlotte and stay with us. I insist!”
“But I couldn’t. I hardly know you.”
“I won’t take no for an answer. I have a very large house and plenty of room for you. It will be fine.”
Naomi glanced at Ranson and smiled slowly. “All right. Thank you. I’ll get a few things together while you look through Reverend Appleby’s office.”
“Nice girl,” Ranson said when she was gone. “I take it she was close to Luther?”
Peggy explained about Naomi in a whisper. “I’m glad she was here, or we might not have gotten in.”
Her father produced a tiny screwdriver from his pocket. “I think I could’ve gotten us in. I came prepared.”
“Just don’t tell me you brought your gun along again.”
“No.” He opened the door for her. “Your mother took it away and hid it. You know how she is.”
“More like me than I can believe?”
“Never mind.” He shut the door to the tiny office to the left side of the altar firmly behind them and locked it. “So what are we looking for?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know if there was time for Luther to have anything from Feed America. He was only interim director for a few days.” She sat down behind the desk and looked at some of the notes he left behind. It was hard to believe he was dead.
Sam called while they were sifting through Luther’s files and papers. He asked about the shipment of white roses that came in with the gardenias and a small magnolia tree. “This planting order says tomorrow, Peggy, but I won’t have time to get these in the ground.”
“I’m planting them. Remember we talked about my taking up some of the overflow from you and Keeley?”
“Not seriously! Let me hire someone. I can get a few dudes from day labor. They can—”
“I’ll be fine, Sam,” she assured him. “I’ve planted a few things in my life, and I’m not as old as you may think. It will work out.”
“Peggy—”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Fine! I won’t.”
The phone went dead in her hand.
“Something wrong?” Ranson looked up for an instant as he snooped through some file cabinets.
“Sam’s being temperamental. He doesn’t want me to hurt myself. He’s almost as bad as Paul!”
“Well, it’s nice that they care anyway. You could be out here all alone with no one caring about you.”
“Do you feel like that?”
“I think everyone does sometimes. When my mama and daddy died, I felt like the oldest man in the world. I wasn’t sure if I could keep going. Your mother pulled me through, like she always does. She reminded me I wasn’t here just for myself. Not just for you, either. We’re each here with a purpose, Margaret. I believe that more every year. It’s important to know that about yourself.”
“I think so, too,” she replied, glancing through whatever she could find on the small desk.
“Margaret Anne, I have something I need to talk with you about. I haven’t wanted to bring it up and ruin anybody’s good time, but—”
She looked up at the serious tone of her father’s voice. “What is it, Dad?” She stuffed some church documents back into the drawer she’d opened.
“Oh nothing much. Her father’s voice faltered.“Have you found anything?”
“No. Have you?”
“Nothing with the name Feed America on it.”
“What were you going to say about ruining everyone’s time?”
“I was going to say that I know your mother is going to talk to you about moving back down to Charleston with us.”
Peggy glanced at him, hearing something in his voice but not sure what it was. “Not again, Dad. I’m happy here. My life is here.”
“I know.” He shrugged. “But she’s your mother.”
“I know.” She paused. Something on the floor caught her eye. It was so small she almost wasn’t sure it was there at all. She bent down and picked it up, turning it over in her hand.
“What is that?” her father asked.
“A cottonseed.” She showed him. “How about that?”
SAM WAS AT HER HOUSE for dinner that night. Steve and her father were cooking. Peggy introduced Naomi, Luther’s assistant, to everyone and showed her to a room to get settled in.
As Peggy set the dining room table with her good china, she tried to think about some way she could talk to Sam about Holles without drawing immediate fire from him. It seemed unlikely.
“Let me help you with that, Margaret.” Her mother took the silverware from the red velvet-lined drawer in the china cabinet. “I see you’re still using Grandma’s silver. That’s nice. She’d like that.”
“I hope you had a good time shopping today,” Peggy said.
“It was great! But you know, I like that Mills Mall better than SouthPark. I guess I’m just cheap, but I’d rather pay outlet prices.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Did your father talk to you?”
“Hmm?” Peggy surfaced from her thoughts about Sam. “Of course.”
“Good.” She nodded. “I thought that might be why you’re so pensive.”
Peggy tried to follow the train of thought that led them here but wasn’t sure what her mother was talking about. “Dad and I talk all the time.”
“I don’t mean that kind of
talk.” Her mother glanced back toward the kitchen where male laughter mingled with the sound of sizzling food. “Your father has something important to tell you, Margaret.”
Peggy prepared herself. This was it. Her mother was going to ask her to move down to Charleston. She might as well get it over with. “Why don’t you just tell me, Mom?”
“Because it’s not my place to tell you. It’s your father’s story.”
“What’s wrong? When did something Dad has to say become ‘his’ story?”
“I have some wine straight from Biltmore House.” Her father joined them, holding up the bottle as he came in the room. “Chardonnay sur Lies 1974. Sounds like a good year.”
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 somethi
ng 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.”