A Corpse for Yew (17 page)

Putting aside the threads of sorrow, which continually threatened to ensnare her, she pedaled her bike into Queens Road and turned on Providence. It was only a few blocks to Third Street. She couldn’t be sure Chief Mullis had changed his habits, but when John was alive, the chief ran up Third Street and along Providence Road before turning back for home every morning before work.

The tires on the bike made a squishing sound as they ran through standing water on the street. Leaves had gathered, blocking the drains that should have carried the rain away. She was glad she’d invested in new tires a few weeks earlier. Hers were getting worn, and she sometimes needed the traction. They’d cost the earth. She couldn’t believe the price had gone up so much in the past two years. Ironic that the cost of bicycle tires should be affected by the price of oil despite the fact that they saved energy.

Peggy caught sight of a runner in a red hooded sweat-shirt. His legs were bare, stretching down to expensive running shoes. She guessed he was about the right height and weight to be Chief Mullis, and swerved into a driveway to make a U-turn to the other side of Providence Road.

A car whizzed past her, throwing cold water on her legs and feet. She’d have to go home before going to the Potting Shed, but she wasn’t going to let this stop her. She slowed her bicycle as she reached the jogger.

The man looked up from under the red hood. “Dr. Lee? What are you doing out here?”

“Getting a simple answer, I hope.”

“A simple answer to what?” Chief Mullis demanded. “If you want to talk to me, make an appointment.”

“I would, but I’m not working on a police case right now. Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop me from wondering what in the world you were thinking, dropping your aunt off at Lake Whitley so early in the morning. What time was it? We were there by seven, and she must’ve already been dead. Were you there instead of running?”

“I don’t care if you’re curious or not. I’m not talking to you about this.”

“If you don’t have anything to hide, why won’t you answer?” she persisted. “Everyone does stupid things from time to time. No one is blaming you for what happened.”

He stopped running, and Peggy jammed on her brakes. Cars swerved and horns blew as traffic brushed by them in the street.

“There’s nothing to blame me for, all right? Aunt Lois wanted to be out there early. I told her I could get her out there at five-thirty. She said that was okay. I didn’t know her friends weren’t coming until so much later. You all left her out there to die, not me.”

She was astonished at his hostility. “No one knew she was going to be out there. Everyone thought she was staying home. Didn’t you notice how deserted it was?”

“No. I didn’t pay any attention. She was always doing crazy stuff. I wasn’t happy about being dragged into it. Is that what you want to hear? I loved her, but she was a pain in the butt sometimes. I just wanted to get rid of her that morning.”

Neither of them moved. They stared at each other as Peggy wondered what had made him so angry at his aunt. She ignored splashing water and flying debris as she considered what she could say to him.

“I don’t know why I’m bothering to tell you at all.” He started running again.

She followed him, swerving close to the curb. “Because you know you made a mistake and you’re sorry for it. You wouldn’t have left her out there if you’d known what would happen.”

“No, I wouldn’t. But I suppose you understand her insanity, since you’re a member of the gang. They do some stupid things. Aunt Lois was lucky nothing happened to her before this.”

“Like what?”

“Ask your friends. That’s all you’re getting from me today. God knows I could use someone like you on Homicide. You don’t give up. Now get out of the street before I call one of my boys.”

 

 

PEGGY PEDALED QUICKLY THROUGH THE city, her mind going over her conversation with the chief. He obviously felt bad for his mistake in judgment, leaving his aunt alone at the lake. He’d expected her to meet up with the rest of the group, but something happened between that time and her death. Was it accidental? Most plant poisonings were, but this seemed to take on some questionable overtones. Lois probably saw the juicy red berries and decided to have a nibble while she waited. The chief was so angry and hostile. Had anyone else noticed his odd behavior?

It could just be a terrible mistake, she considered, as she locked up her bike behind the Potting Shed. But it could also be something more. The longer she was involved with this case, the more she doubted it was an accident, despite Mai’s evidence to the contrary.

She unlocked the back door to the shop, locking it again behind her after she’d entered. This wasn’t exactly a bad part of town, but the shops had problems from time to time with break-ins. Better safe than sorry. She’d thought that axiom was pointless when she was younger. It made sense now.

Everything in the Potting Shed was in its place. She stocked a few shelves, but it was more for something to do than out of necessity. She didn’t need to check the receipts from yesterday to know it had been a slow day. She looked around the shop that had become her home away from home, and hoped Sam’s idea about drought gardening was brilliant enough to turn things around.

Her garden club was meeting at the Kozy Kettle that morning. Normally they met on Thursday, but the meeting had been postponed because several members were going to be out of town. It had been just as well for her, with everything she’d done yesterday.

She looked around at the plants available for her talk. She liked to have a fresh specimen to show the group. Her eyes lit on a pretty French lavender plant that had been in her basement for years. She’d decided to bring it here after redoing the shop. It would be an interesting plant for the club to see and learn about.

Selena came through the back door a while later and found Peggy going through a plant catalog. She was listening to the Moody Blues, one of her favorite groups from her college years. Her parents had always frowned on their music because they weren’t American. Of course, that made them all the more attractive.

“Who is this?” Selena asked. “And why are they torturing small animals?”

“You have room to talk with the music you listen to,” Peggy said. “The Moody Blues was a great band. They may still be. I haven’t kept up with them.”

“You didn’t have to come in this morning.” Selena grabbed her apron from behind the counter that held the cash register. “You could’ve just come in late for the garden club.”

“Thanks.” Peggy didn’t look up from her catalog. “Next time, I’ll call you before I come in, and get the lowdown on whether or not I should be here.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought you’ve been busy and there’s nothing much going on here right now. You could take it easy for awhile. Like an hour or two, anyway.”

“I’m just kidding you. Did you notice that little lizard that’s taken up residence on the side of the pond?”

Selena jumped up onto the rocking chair with a screech. “No! Where is it? Maybe Sam can kill it when he comes in. I hate snakes and lizards.”

“They’re two different things.” Peggy kept her laughter to herself. “Besides, Sam better not hurt it. The little fella is cute.”

“I’ve worked here through floods, snow, dead bodies, and spiders, but I’m not working here with a lizard. I don’t like them and they don’t like me.”

“All right. I’ll take it home with me. Will that work?”

Selena nodded, her gaze focused on the pond as she searched for the terrible lizard. “Can you do it now?”

“Do what?” Sam strolled into the shop, Jasper and Keeley behind him. All three were wearing incredibly muddy clothes. “Does it involve all of us jumping up onto a chair?”

“Very funny,” Selena said. “There’s a lizard in the pond. And where did you manage to find enough water to make mud and wallow around in it?”

“Actually, we installed a pricey rainwater reclamation unit,” Jasper told her. “And we have orders for three more just like it.” He walked up to the chair and gave her his hand. “Let me help you down from there.”

Selena made a face at Sam. “At least there are still
some
gentlemen left in the world.”

“And I’m sure you could find them if you weren’t always relying on the kindness of strangers.” As he spoke, Sam’s voice went up several octaves and became more Southern.

“Next thing you know, you’ll be wearing a dress made from curtains,” Peggy observed. “So tell me, just how pricey was this rainwater reclamation unit, and what was
our
cost?”

Sam and Jasper showed Peggy the plans for the units as well as the cost and profit structure. She was impressed with the numbers and the simplicity of their idea. “It’s basically catching the rainwater from the rooftop and storing it, then using a pump to utilize it in the garden,” she surmised.

“Exactly.” Sam beamed. “We also sold a few rain barrels out there. I’m thinking we should stock some in the store. Jasper knows a man who’s making them with designs.”

“Designs?” Peggy tried to picture that, and failed.

“Yeah. Some of them look like little men with hats,” Jasper explained. “They’re very decorative.”

Keeley agreed. “They were really cute, Peggy. Wait till you see them.”

“Okay.” Peggy stood up and put her catalog away. “We’ll take a few and see how they do. This sounds great, Sam. Maybe just what we’re looking for.”

“That’s why I’m here.” He watched her pick up the French lavender plant. “I take it you have garden club this morning. Let me carry that for you.”

Peggy wondered if this was a hint that he needed to speak with her alone, and agreed to let him help. “Is something wrong?” she asked as they walked across the courtyard.

“No. Well, not exactly. I just wanted to make sure this is where you want to go with the landscaping, too. We can pretend this side is all mine, but we’re partners. I don’t want to do this if it seems wrong to you.”

She smiled at him as the sunlight caught in the golden strands that framed his face. “I think it’s a great idea. Really. You’re brilliant, Sam. You don’t need me to tell you.” But she loved him for asking.

“Okay. We don’t have regular meetings. I think maybe we should. You know, like regular businesses.”

“I guess that’s left over from you wanting to be a surgeon. All that organization and things laid neatly in place. You should know by now the garden business isn’t that way.”

He laughed as he put the lavender on a wrought iron table outside the Kozy Kettle. “At least the plant lady isn’t that organized, huh? Fine. That’s enough new stuff for one day. We’ll work on those meetings later.”

Sam said good-bye as two members of the garden club saw Peggy. They watched him walk away with gleaming eyes. “Is that your
son?
” Renee Walters checked out his broad shoulders and slim hips.

“No. Although I think of him like my son,” Peggy said.

“How can you think of that hotty as anything but an incredible hunk?” Jessica Martin demanded, straightening her pink blouse and tossing her blond hair.

“I guess I never thought about him that way. He works for me. Sam heads up our landscaping division.”

Jessica and Renee both took out their Palm Pilots to add his cell number. Peggy smiled as she got ready for her presentation. No reason to tell the two women that they were hardly Sam’s type.

After the rest of the garden club had assembled outside the Kozy Kettle, Emil came to take orders for drinks and food. It was the reason they’d first come to an understanding about Peggy holding her garden club meetings there. She didn’t have enough room at the Potting Shed, and Emil enjoyed the business on an otherwise slow morning.

“This is French lavender.” Peggy showed the group the plant. “It’s not the same as we normally think of lavender, because that’s English lavender. This plant began as a weed and eventually ended up in the British Pharmacopeia in the late 1700s. They say Queen Elizabeth the First enjoyed French lavender, but not just the smell; she regularly drank tea made from it to prevent migraines.”

The group of twenty or so, two of them gentlemen, wrote down what she said and contemplated the gray green serrated leaves of the plant. The two ladies closest to the plant, a mother and daughter from Carmel Road, leaned closer and smelled it. “It smells more like rosemary than lavender,” the mother said. “It seems strange to call it lavender.”

“True, although it was probably the first lavender,” Peggy told her. “The English lavender we’re used to was bred from this.”

“How would it be with this drought?” Mary Tillis asked, pencil in hand.

“It would probably be fine,” Peggy answered. “It doesn’t necessarily need a lot of water. The plant should be trimmed back twice a year, in spring and fall, or it becomes quite bushy. The flower heads can be left on to dry, and you can save the seeds for another plant.”

“Does the plant dry well to use in an arrangement?” another lady asked.

“It does,” Peggy responded, holding up one of the branches to show the delicate purple flower. “I used to keep this plant in my basement, but now it lives in the Potting Shed and seems to be happy there. I plan on keeping it in a pot of some kind and bringing it in for the winter.”

There was a flurry of questions as Emil brought out teas and lattes with bagels and croissants. Peggy answered each one and gave everyone a chance to take a close look at the plant. She cut off small pieces for them to smell, each person deciding if they liked the scent or not.

“Peggy, talk to us about the drought.” Suzi Harcourt said. “I mean, my roses are looking really bad. I know Sam did a good job planting them, but I don’t have a well and rain hasn’t come often enough. They look like they’re dying. What should I do?”

“Have you added hydrogel crystals to the soil around the roots?” Everyone’s ears perked up as Peggy asked the question.