Killing Weeds (8 page)

Al was the last to go. “Come and stay with me and Mary until Steve gets back. I know you lived here alone for a long time, but now it isn’t the same thing. We don’t know what this woman has in mind. If she’s masterminded both these events to attack you and your family, she’s clever and resourceful. You should be making a list of your enemies.”

She smiled and hugged him. “You know I don’t have any enemies. And I’ll be fine until Steve gets back. I’ll set the alarm and probably spend the night in the basement with my plants. Whatever this woman has in store, she must not want to kill me, just ruin my life. And we don’t even know that for sure yet.”

“Okay. If you’re sure I can’t change your mind.” He squeezed her hand. “Call me if you need anything—I mean anything. Don’t wait for it to be life-threatening. We don’t know for sure Mary Hood
isn’t
out there waiting to kill you either.”

Al finally left. Peggy fed Shakespeare and then made sure all the doors were locked. He gobbled his food down quickly and quietly followed her to each door.

She set the outer perimeter alarm and turned off the lights upstairs. Shakespeare followed her into the basement to sniff the sliding glass doors and whine as though asking if she’d made sure those doors were locked too.

“They’re always locked,” she told him. “Unless you’re asking to go out. Is that it?”

In answer, he walked around in a circle on his rug and then collapsed on it. He whined and beat his tail on the floor once or twice before laying his head down and closing his eyes.

Peggy patted his head and gave him a kiss. “I guess that means you don’t want to go out. But you know how boring it is for you being down here so you’re taking a nap. Good choice.”

She hadn’t exaggerated about staying in the basement. She’d put in a cot and a small fridge years ago. Sometimes when she was working on a project that needed to be checked every twenty minutes, it was easier to stay down here.

It hadn’t happened as much since she’d married Steve. She tended to limit those time-consuming projects, but that didn’t stop her from being a member of several botanical groups that did research into various types of plants.

She really loved working with groups that were looking for ways to make food plants go further. She’d grown large tomatoes—the size of soccer balls—and fast-growing short wheat that took less time and space to produce a full harvest.

Peggy liked working on ornamental hybrids too. She’d produced the first night blooming rose, dozens of miniature lilies, and huge ferns.

She checked each of her experiments every day and kept records of their growth rates and variables of temperature and humidity as well as any problems she encountered.

Currently she was working on a project with twelve other botanists from around the world to prove if melatonin enhanced growth in soybeans. So far her findings had been good. Her soybeans had grown more energetically and abundantly than soybeans grown without melatonin.

With the basement running the entire length of the big house, and every inch of the ceiling covered with grow lights, she had a big project at the far end. Enhanced spinach, the size of ten-foot elephant ears, was growing. Normal spinach was packed with vitamins and iron. One leaf of her spinach held enough vitamins and iron for an entire day.

She was thrilled with the thick, dark green leaves and enormous stems. They didn’t require good soil either, which was always a plus for growers. And the taste was excellent. She picked off a small leaf and chewed it as she went to check on her other plants.

In the heart of the basement was a small pond where she worked on the dwarf cattails, irises, and other water plants before she took them to The Potting Shed to sell. She also had some lovely water lilies that always made her day better just looking at them.

She cupped one of the large floating yellow lilies with her hands and smiled. They were so beautiful. It was hard to maintain any anger or frustration when she was down here with her babies.

Peggy was getting ready to check on her peanuts that could remove food allergies from other peanut plants and foods derived from them. The doorbell rang upstairs. She jumped nervously, and for the first time since Steve had the unit installed, she turned on the monitor that could show her who was at the door.

“Hi, honey.” Her father and mother waved to her. “Sam gave us a call and told us about what’s happening. We’ve brought a few things so we can stay here with you until Steve comes back.”

Cotton

No one knows exactly how old cotton is. Cotton bolls and cloth have been found in Mexico that are at least 7,000 years old. Cotton has changed very little from what is grown today. Colonists in America were growing cotton in 1616 along the James River in Virginia, creating a whole new, wealthier way of life for many.

Chapter Twelve

Like many people, Peggy had a love-hate relationship with her family.

She got along better with her father, Ranson Hughes, than she did her mother, Lilla. She was more like her father in personality but more like her mother in looks. She got her red hair from her mother and unfortunately, her short body, prone to gain weight by looking at a slice of cake.

Ranson was tall and thin with a patient disposition. He didn’t like to stir things up the way Peggy and her mother did. Most of the time, he got between them when there was trouble.

Peggy went upstairs with Shakespeare at her heels. They went to the kitchen door and opened it for her parents—a big hug from her father and polite air kisses from her mother.

“Why didn’t you call us?” Lilla demanded as Ranson maneuvered their suitcases into the house.

“She didn’t want to bother us,” her father said. “Don’t pick at her now. She’s had a rough day. We’re not here to make it worse.”

“What about Paul’s job?” Lilla continued as she strode confidently into the house leaving her handbag on the kitchen table with her pink sweater. “Is he going to be all right? I can’t believe you didn’t at least tell us about this. He’s our grandson, and Rosie is our great-granddaughter. We have a right to know.”

“Everything happened so quickly,” Peggy began to explain. “I didn’t think of it. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, honey.” Ranson smiled. “Where should I put these bags?”

“You really don’t have to stay with me. Steve is only gone one more night. I’ll be fine.”
And I’m going to kick Sam for calling you as soon as I see him.

“We’re here now, Margaret,” her father said.

“And we’re not going home until things get better,” her mother added imperiously.

Peggy sighed. “Follow me.”

They walked through the rambling old house that had been built during the turn of the last century for John’s family. It was big, even compared to the other large houses around it.

Situated on an acre of land in the heart of Myer’s Park, the house had dozens of bedrooms, a large library, and a dining room that could easily seat twenty. The Lee family had made their money from shipping, and this was where John’s great-great-grandfather had brought his new bride.

Everything in the building of the house had been carefully chosen and selected to last a lifetime. Hardwood floors and paneled walls had been cut in Wilmington and brought to Charlotte. Expensive chandeliers and furniture were the best money could buy at the time.

Peggy had been raised in Charleston, South Carolina as the only child of a gentleman farmer on hundreds of acres of land close to the sea. But she’d lost her heart to John Lee when they were in college, and it was here that he’d brought her as well.

John had inherited the house and land as part of a legacy. Paul didn’t inherit it at John’s death. The trust went to John’s nephew, who wasn’t ready to settle down.

She lived there with his good graces but without the elder family members’ approval. They were even unhappier when she’d married Steve, but it was important for someone to live in the house. She loved the old place and thought it might as well be her.

They walked through the ground floor past the thirty-two foot blue spruce that was growing under the skylight beside the circular staircase. Peggy had planted that right after she and John had moved here. She felt as though it was the soul of the house.

Her mother and father followed her up the three-story marble staircase. Peggy loved its cool smoothness beneath her bare feet in the summer. Shakespeare had a hard time with it, slipping and sliding down the stairs more often than walking down.

Peggy put her mother and father in the blue suite next to her room. Everything was done in shades of blue as it had been when she’d moved there—minus the moth-eaten drapes and bedclothes. The previous heir hadn’t been very interested in upgrading things in or around the grand old estate.

“The bathroom is in there.” She pointed. “You know the rest of the house. You can stay here as long as you like. You know the invitation is always open.”

Ranson put the luggage on the bed. “Was that pizza I smelled downstairs? I’m starving. What about you, Lilla?”

“I’m exhausted from packing and worrying about my family.” She sat in the large velvet chair beside the window that overlooked Queens Road. “And you shouldn’t eat pizza.”

“There are a few slices left,” Peggy told her father. “I can reheat them if you’d like.”

He smiled. “You know I like it better cold, little girl. Come down and sit with me anyway. Let your mother get some rest.”

Peggy and her mother hugged briefly, not too tight or close.

“If you need anything, Mom, let me know. There are clean towels in the closet at the end of the hall. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yes. And we’ll talk about what you’re doing to make this right. Goodnight, Margaret.”

Ranson and Shakespeare went down first. Peggy followed them. She hoped Shakespeare wouldn’t knock her father down the stairs. But they managed to make it to the bottom safely.

Her mother and father had moved to Charlotte a few years back after selling their farm. They’d wanted to be close to her, to Paul, and the new baby, finally realizing that she was never moving back home again. They had a small house between Paul and Peggy’s places that made it convenient to see them regularly.

She put the cold pizza out on the table for her father, found a beer in the back of the refrigerator and put that out too. Father and daughter sat at the same wood table that John had used as a child with his mother and father.

“So, Sam was a little short on explaining what happened to Paul. I think I understand the whole thing about him getting bamboozled by some pretty girl into doing something that may have caused someone else’s death. Is that about right?”

Peggy opened the bottle of beer as her father chewed his pizza. “Something like that. Paul is working as a private detective and got caught in the middle of a murder. That’s about all we know right now.”

Ranson’s gray brows went up in his lean face. “You mean like
Rockford Files
? We used to love that show. Did they already fire him from the police department?”

“No. He hasn’t been fired. He was working on the side to try to figure out what happened to John. You know he’s always wanted to do that.”

“I know. He’s been like a bear with a honeycomb stuck on his paw. We’ve talked about it a few times. I think he would’ve been better off hiring a private detective than becoming one. Lilla and I would’ve been glad to foot the bill if the Lee family isn’t interested.”

“It’s not that they aren’t interested. They believe what the police said. Paul and I have learned better.”

Ranson quickly polished off a slice of cheese pizza and took a few sips of beer. “He’s got a family now, Margaret. He can’t go off on these wild hares looking for what happened to his daddy. He has to consider his daughter and Mai.”

“I know. I had no idea what he was doing.”

“He lives close by.” Ranson chuckled. “You’re not up in his business enough. That’s what mothers are for. Ask Lilla if you don’t believe me.”

“If we can get him out of this mess with his job intact, I’m sure it will be a while before Paul uses his PI license again.”

“And can you get him out of this?”

Peggy frowned. “I hope so, Dad.”

Spiraea

Sometimes considered to be a pest, spiraea shrubs are in the Rosacea family and have been known as medicinal plants for hundreds of years. The shrubs contain salicylates, such as those found in aspirin, and may have been the first source of the drug.

Chapter Thirteen

Peggy and her father talked in the kitchen until her mother yelled over the rail upstairs that it was time to go to bed. They separated with a hug, and Peggy curled up with Shakespeare for the night in her bed.

It seemed as though she’d just gone to sleep when she heard loud banging and conversation outside. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It was five a.m., just barely starting to get light. She’d forgotten how early deliveries came since Sam had taken over that part of the business.

Yawning, she dressed quickly in jeans and a Potting Shed T-shirt. After looking at her red-rimmed green eyes in the bathroom mirror and pulling a brush through her hair, she let Shakespeare out in the backyard. He put his huge paws on top of the wood fence and stared at the people delivering plants, but didn’t bark.

Sam was outside in the chilly morning air directing where the plant shipment should go. All the shrubs were set together. All the bulb plants were separated from the others.

Peggy was happy to see that he had a good relationship with the delivery men as he joked with them and put his muscles to use helping them with their task.

She was lucky to have found Sam, even though it was at the cost of his medical career. His parents had always pushed him to be a surgeon as they had pushed Hunter to be a lawyer. They were unhappy with their son’s choice of profession and had frequently let him know it. They’d also said a few words to her since they blamed her for Sam’s change of heart.