A Corpse for Yew (5 page)

Paul, who’d made the decision to ride along with them, drove them to their destination in his new Jeep. He was proud of his new toy, even though it went against his mother’s beliefs in conservation. He didn’t have a problem with the internal combustion engine, a fact his grandfather found perfectly fine.

“So, where are we going again?” Ranson Hughes, Peggy’s father, asked from the backseat as he held on to the roll bar. He’d arrived at the Potting Shed to pick Lilla up just as they were leaving. “I thought we were going out to supper with Steve.”

“That’s next Tuesday, Dad,” Peggy reminded him.

“I told you,” Lilla began, “we have to go and see the historical group. Margaret found a dead body, and they think there’s something at the dead woman’s house she should see.”

“Then why aren’t we going in Paul’s squad car?” Ranson laughed. “I think we should have our sirens blazing for this emergency!”

“Grandpa, I told you I can’t chauffeur my family around in a car that belongs to the city,” Paul said. “My boss wouldn’t take kindly to that.”

“It sounds to me like you need to have a man-to-man talk with your boss,” Ranson replied. “He obviously undervalues you. You could go anywhere and get a job. You could go to Charleston!”

“Not now,” Lilla whispered. “We just moved up here to see him and Margaret more often. What good would it do us if he moves back home?”

Peggy put her hand to her sunburned forehead. She was starting to get a headache. It was just the day for it. She wished she could be more concerned about what the Shamrock Historical Society had to say about Lois’s death. But she was more worried about the lack of customers at the Potting Shed.

She couldn’t afford a massive advertising campaign. The shop had received good coverage on its grand reopening, but that was two months ago and long forgotten. She’d tried to think of nonexpensive ways of getting the word out. But just as she came up with some clever idea, the new drought report was issued. How could anyone make money on something that depended on water right now?

Even worse, the few times before when traffic to the shop had been slow, Sam’s part of the landscape business was booming. That was not the case this fall. Many of their regular clients were cutting back on the work they usually had done this time of year. Sam and Keeley Prinz, his helper in all things landscaping, were keeping up with their indoor plantscaping at apartments, offices, and some retail establishments. It just wasn’t enough.

All this came on the heels of her decision to give up teaching at Queens University to work as a contract botanist for the police. It was interesting work and she enjoyed the challenge, but it came only from time to time. The shop had been doing so well, she’d felt justified in her decision. Now she was starting to regret it. That gnawing fear she’d felt when she’d first opened the business after John’s death was returning.

She looked out at the passing scenery as they drove toward the Plaza-Midwood area of the city. The azaleas were brown and crisp next to wilting oaks drooping in the gas fumes and heat. There were no signs of the colorful flowers that had made the city famous. The drought had driven them all underground to wait for cool, damp weather. How could she expect anything less for her garden shop?

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Lilla scanned the same scenery. “I don’t see anyplace that looks like somewhere Lois would’ve lived. Maybe we should go back to Myer’s Park.”

Ranson snorted. “You’re such a snob! Just because you see some ethnic restaurants and some buildings that aren’t exactly in the best of repair, you want to run back to your safe haven.”

“I never said that,” Lilla countered. “I only meant that I know Lois lived by a country club in a large estate house. I don’t think we’re going to find that over here.”

“As a matter of fact, there are several large estates and the oldest country club in the city behind this façade,” Paul told her. “Just wait, and you’ll be surprised.”

Peggy knew the area well. Several of her friends lived in the Plaza area. She was surprised to see how many people were watering their lawns, despite the drought. The precious crystal droplets shot up in the air across emerald green grass and wet the sidewalk. “They must not know there’s a drought.”

“They probably have wells like you.” Paul smiled at her. “I know you don’t water the grass, but it’s really no different.”

“I suppose you’re right, but it seems so flagrant.”

Her son laughed at her. “I can’t believe you said that! You, who are beyond a doubt the most plant-loving person I know. I’d think you’d be happy to see a little green.”

“I am. I just feel guilty with what little bit I do at the house. This makes me feel worse.”

Paul was right about the area opening up into older estate houses set on large, manicured lots. The brick and stone fronts faced the street that led to the Charlotte Country Club, which people needed more than money to join. There were probably more historical pedigrees in that single organization than in the rest of the city.

Here the crape myrtles were green and healthy. The flowers on the taller bushes were pink, red, and white, as they should’ve been; only it was October and summer was gone. The hot weather had kept those plants blooming when they should have retreated before the autumn breezes.

“Oh, look at those zinnias!” Lilla said as they pulled into the Mullis’s drive. “What a wonderful display. I wonder who does her gardening.”

“That may be an imprudent question to ask at this time,” Ranson chastened her. “The woman has been dead only a short while.”

“She lived here by herself.” Paul turned off the Jeep’s engine and leaned across the steering wheel to look up at the three-story house. “I know that only because I heard some of the guys talking. Chief Mullis was always worried about her being over here alone. His uncle died of a stroke a few years back. He was afraid his aunt would go the same way. Supposedly, she had a bad heart. I guess you never know.”

They all looked up at the pink granite façade glittering in the light. The front windows were huge, bowing out from the castlelike walls. It was a house created to last many generations. No doubt there would be another family of Mullises who would move in now that Lois was gone.

Peggy admired the landscaping without shouting her appreciation. The colorful zinnias were only a small part of the whole picture. The design was tasteful, and put together so well that the eye easily followed the clean line from the taller plants and bushes to the shorter ones. The old oak trees that guarded the perimeter were trimmed and well cared for. It was a masterful blend of harmony and function. She wouldn’t have minded if the sign in front said MAINTAINED BY THE POTTING SHED.

That was a reminder of another thorn in her side. Sam hadn’t gone back to college this fall. Something had happened that made him want to give up becoming a doctor, much to his parents’ consternation. She knew how they felt, since it had been only a short time since Paul had dropped out of college to become a police officer. She wasn’t happy about it, since he’d shown such promise of becoming a great architect. And she’d been sure he’d done it only as a memorial to his father, John. Or worse, to try and find the man who’d killed him.

She and Paul had gotten through that. Now she felt guilty because Sam had wanted to run the landscaping business full-time. Only there wasn’t enough business right now to make the living he’d envisioned. He’d changed the name for his part of the firm they’d both worked so hard at to TPS ’Scaping by Sam. She’d made him her full partner in a business that might be on the way out.

As they sat admiring the house and grounds, one of the four garage doors opened. All the members of the Shamrock Historical Society looked out at them like large owls blinking at the light. Paul got out of the car, and the garage door slammed shut.

“I think you might’ve scared them off.” Peggy got out on her side. “They weren’t expecting the police.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know they were doing something illegal.”

“I don’t think they are,” she argued. “Maybe just a little off-color.”

Lilla walked up to the garage door with Ranson and pounded on it. “It’s all right. He’s my grandson. He isn’t here in his official capacity. He just didn’t go home and change clothes yet.”

“Don’t say that, Grandma,” Paul hissed. “If they broke into the house, we have a problem. Even though I’m not on duty, I can’t look the other way. Especially since this house belongs to the chief’s family. Don’t promise something I can’t hold to.”

“Paul, would you please get back in the Jeep?” Peggy asked.

“Mom . . .”

“I promise if there are any desperate criminals in here, we’ll let you take care of them. But I think you’ll find these women are as well connected as Lois. You aren’t going to want to arrest any of them.”

“Especially since we have a key!” Geneva called from behind the garage door. “You tell him we have pepper spray, and we aren’t afraid to use it.”

Dorothy responded, “Don’t be ridiculous! You don’t use pepper spray on a police officer. Lois hasn’t been dead long enough that she won’t come and get you for the very idea. Don’t forget her family is five generations of law enforcement.”

“Then what are we going to do?” Annabelle asked. “The fuzz is out there waiting for us.”

“I’m feeling a little like Butch Cassidy right now,” Grace added. “Only I don’t have a gun to shoot my way out of this.”

“Let’s all calm down a minute,” Peggy advised. “If you’ll open the door so we can talk, I promise Paul won’t bother you.”

Slowly the garage door opened, and Geneva poked her head under the bottom of it. “All right. We’re coming out. Or maybe you all should come inside. We don’t want anyone to see us.”

Peggy glanced at her mother and father. “Okay. We’ll come in there.”

“I told you that you should’ve told her to come alone,” Grace said.

“I would’ve, but it sounded too melodramatic. Besides, it’s just Lilla and her husband. They won’t say anything.” Geneva glanced at the Jeep where Paul kept his distance. “I’m not too sure about
him
.”

“He’s my son, despite the uniform,” Peggy assured her. “Besides, what are you so worried about? Did you break into Lois’s house?”

“No!” Mrs. Waynewright smoothed her avocado-colored shirtwaist dress. “We wouldn’t do a thing like that! We had a key. Lois gave it to us in case she lost hers.”

“And there was that time when we were meeting here and she couldn’t get here until after the meeting started,” Annabelle recalled. “We let ourselves in that day, too. Her housekeeper was off, and we just went in and got some cheese and strawberries and went on.”

Peggy was impatient with the group not getting to the point. “And why are all of you here?”

“Because the police won’t listen to us. They keep saying Lois probably had a heart attack or something out there at the lake. But how did she get there?” Dorothy drummed her fingers on the smooth silver finish of a late model Mercedes. “Both of her cars are still here. None of us took Lois there. She wasn’t planning on meeting us out there, with her lumbago and all.”

“But if she
had
gone out there,” Geneva started, “she would’ve driven one of these vehicles. How hard is that to understand?”

“I’m sure the chief has taken that into consideration.” Paul’s voice was decisive in the closeness of the garage.

Geneva let out a startled yelp. “Who let him in here? Why are you here? You’re supposed to be out
there!
”

“Look, I’m not here to arrest anyone or give you a hard time.” Paul walked farther into the heart of the group. “I just thought maybe I could explain a few things about our procedures.”

Peggy smiled as she recognized her son’s carefully modulated crowd voice. No doubt it was the same voice he used when he stopped a speeder. It was strange hearing that tone, the same tone John had adopted so many times, coming out of his mouth.

“That’s exactly why we asked Peggy to meet us here,” Annabelle told him. “She’s as near to the police as we need right now.”

“Paul’s right.” Peggy backed him up. “He knows a lot more about this type of thing than I do.” She wasn’t sure if it was true, but she didn’t want them to panic.

The members of the Shamrock Historical Society who weren’t members of Peggy’s family huddled together, speaking furiously with dozens of hand gestures before Geneva finally turned around and said, “Okay. He can stay.”

“Thanks.” Paul smiled at them. “Now why don’t you tell me about the problem from the beginning?”

All the voices began at once. Paul stopped them, and had Annabelle tell the story by herself. “We found Lois dead at Lake Whitley.
They
think she died from natural causes. But she wasn’t supposed to be there. She couldn’t make it because her back was acting up.”

“Lumbago,” Geneva interjected with a solemn nod of her head.

“So there we are, looking for bones and artifacts, and we find Lois. She’s been dead awhile.” Annabelle looked at Peggy. “Wouldn’t you say so? I mean, I’m no expert but people don’t turn that color right away when they die. My husband was dead awhile before he was that color.”

“I agree with you.” Peggy thought back to Lois’s body. There were several unusual aspects to her death.

“Anyway, Lois went out there before us, even though we’d been out there since seven-thirty this morning. She went into the mud, where she had a heart attack and died. That’s what the police want us to believe.” Annabelle had a belligerent look on her round face. “Now we want to know, how did she get there? She didn’t drive. Both her cars are still here.”

“And if she didn’t drive”—Geneva couldn’t keep from butting in—“how did she get there? And how did her car get back here if she drove herself out there?”

Paul ran his hand across the back of his head. “Have you ladies considered that she might’ve taken a taxi or had a friend drop her off? I’m sure there’s more to this than you know.”