Poisoned Petals (17 page)

“Don’t you start!” she warned him. “Look!” She pointed to Holles when she saw him come through the front door. “I hope Sam can keep his mouth shut for a few minutes.”

“I wouldn’t put any money on it. Sam’s a very open person,” Steve said. “And he thinks Holles can help.”

“I know. Too open for his own good sometimes.”

“Well, let’s get this over with.” Steve kissed her. “I’ll call you if I see Darmus.”

“All right. Thank you.”

The club got louder with more people squeezing in to listen to the local band onstage. Peggy had never heard of them, but Sam had assured her they were very hot in the nightclub scene in Charlotte.

“This reminds me of when the pigs come to trough,” her father said loudly. “They push together as close as they can to make sure they get their share.”

“Dad, please! I’m trying to concentrate.”

“And I’m trying to help! And please don’t talk down to us again like that, Margaret Anne! Your mother and I have plenty of gay and black friends back home! We knew exactly what you meant with Sam. We don’t like him any less for it.”

She smiled at him. “Okay. Sorry. But Aunt Mayfield and Cousin Melvin—”

“We used to call them rubes.” He laughed. “Not sure what it means, but I think it applies here.”

Peggy laughed. “Yeah, I think so.”

She went back to scrutinizing the crowd. Why would Darmus pick a place like this? He’d never spent time at night-clubs or hanging out with whoever was considered cool.

Peggy saw Hunter, Sam’s sister, and her new boyfriend, who looked like a quarterback, barely moving to the music, wrapped around each other on the dance floor. She tapped Hunter’s bare shoulder. Might as well use whatever resource was available. If Darmus realized what she was trying to do, he might disappear.

“Peggy!” Hunter quickly unwrapped her arms from around her quarterback and lost the dreamy-eyed expression on her beautiful face. “What are you doing here? Who’s your friend? Have you thrown Steve over?”

“This is my father, Hunter. Dad, this is Sam’s sister, Hunter. I’m looking for someone.” Peggy smiled at the quarterback. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

“Sure. I’ll go and grab something to drink.”

“Hello, Mr. Lee.” Hunter shook Ranson’s hand when her boyfriend was gone. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, young lady. But I’m a Hughes, not a Lee.”

“Oh, sorry! Of
course
you’re not!” Hunter’s face suffused with color. She turned to Peggy. “What’s wrong? Has there been another murder in or around the Potting Shed?” She stood up to her full, impressive height, looking like an avenging goddess with her hands on her hips, the silky material of her pale blue dress outlining her statuesque body.

“No.” Peggy quietly explained what had happened. “You know what Darmus looks like from working in the Community Garden. Do you think you could help us find him?”

“You think he’s here?” Hunter laughed. “Has he been reincarnated? No offense. But I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

“I know. Humor me.”

“Sure.” She grabbed her date’s arm as he came back with beer for both of them. “This is Kevin. He can help, too.”

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed. “Help with what?”

“Don’t I know you?” Peggy peered into his face above the bulging neck and chest muscles.

“Yeah. I helped you dig through some trash. Me and Sam.” He grabbed Hunter close to him. “And my baby.”

“That’s right. It’s good to see you again.”

“You, too.” He shook her hand.

“But Hunter, I’d rather everyone didn’t know about—”

“We’re looking for Professor Appleby,” Hunter blurted out before Peggy could stop her.

Kevin shook his head. “You’re way too late, babe. He took the plunge.”

“Didn’t you have him for botany last semester?” Hunter asked.

“Yeah, but—”

“We’ll look,” Hunter told Peggy. “Come on, Kevin. I’ll fill you in.”

“So much for keeping it a secret.” Peggy had been worried about Sam telling Holles. Now she’d told a man she didn’t even know.

“These things happen,” her father prophesied. “You need to learn to roll with the punches, little girl.”

Sam bumped into them with Holles in tow. Peggy watched Holles play with his glasses and smooth back his dark hair. She knew Sam had already told him about Darmus.

The two men were a perfect foil for each other. Sam, tall and golden, broad in the shoulders and chest. Holles, tall and slender, dark and sinewy. They were gorgeous together. More than one pair of eyes flashed in their direction, male and female.

“Hello, Dr. Lee.” Holles spoke loudly so he could be heard above the crowd and the music. He glanced at Sam, then said, “You have to let it go! Darmus is dead. You have to accept it. I know you had a hard time with Luther, but—”

“Holles.” She returned his lightweight clasp. His hand was cool and dry. “I understand this is hard to accept, but Darmus
isn’t
dead. And we have to find him.”

“I told him about Darmus,” Sam offered lamely. “I thought he could help look for him, too.”

“I guessed that.” Just what she needed: another unbeliever. “Look, if the two of you need to go, that would be fine.”

“We’ll help.” Sam whispered something to Holles, who shrugged and started back into the crowd.

Peggy and her father found their way to a clearing by the back door. She climbed up on a crate to be able to see over the crowd. There were so many people, but none of them looked like Darmus. A seventy-something black man, probably in a suit and tie, shouldn’t be that hard to find in this crowd. How could he ever expect to blend in here?

Her father shook his head. “There are plenty of black men here, but none who look over thirty.”

“I think I should go home now before my brain explodes from this music,” she said, ready to give up. “This is ridiculous.”

It seemed like they’d wandered aimlessly through the club for hours, but when Peggy looked at her watch, it was only a little after midnight. She should’ve turned the whole thing over to Al instead of being out there half the night looking for Darmus. What the two brothers did was wrong. She could only do so much to help a friend.

Then she saw him. She couldn’t believe it was Darmus Appleby, but she’d know his dear old face anywhere. He was sitting at the bar wearing a dirty, ripped, orange T-shirt and jeans, a Panthers cap slung low on his head. It half covered his forehead, but she knew it was him. He was sneaking furtive looks around the room, probably looking for whoever called him on the cell phone.

“There he is!” She hurried through the crowd, losing her father somewhere along the way. She turned around to look for him, but he was gone. When she looked back, Darmus had moved from his place by the bar. It took a few moments to locate him again. She couldn’t call out to him, couldn’t risk someone else recognizing him.

Determined not to lose Darmus, she rushed after him, keeping her eye on his orange T-shirt. Would he be embarrassed when he saw her? Would he pretend it wasn’t him?

The club had to be exceeding every noise ordinance in the city. People were spilling into the street outside the club. Cars raced, their engines revving, like they did at the speedway. There were plenty of NASCAR fans there, judging from the jackets and caps proclaiming undying love for Dale Jr., Jimmie, and Number 3.

When she found herself out in the alley behind the building, she glanced around and saw couples kissing in the dimly lit recesses. Spilled trash cans made the whole place smell like garbage.

“Darmus!” she called out finally, taking her chances when she saw the orange T-shirt rapidly disappearing. “Wait!”

Peggy skirted the worst of the trash and the couples fondling each other. She jumped over a stream that ran down the alley. She didn’t want to know what
that
was. Old furniture, wooden crates, and beer bottles littered the space between buildings. The scurry of rats in a corner made her shiver.

“Darmus!” she yelled, catching her purple pleated skirt on the ragged side of a brick building. It tore across when she jerked at it. The orange T-shirt moved on just ahead of her. She pushed her white/red hair out of her eyes and sprinted toward it.

She reached out to grab hold of him. The cotton T-shirt was warm and damp in her hand, but she didn’t see the box in front of her and tripped over it. She went down with her face in the disgusting stench in the alley, skinning the palms of her hands and her knees on the pavement. She didn’t care about any of that, but she swore as she realized she’d let go of the orange T-shirt. She was
so
close.

But then his crippled hands that would barely open reached down to help her to her feet. She brushed off her face and wet clothes, trying not to think about what was on them.

“Peggy, what are you
doing
here?” Darmus’s wonderful, familiar voice came from the shadows. She couldn’t see his face. “For God’s sake, can’t you ever leave well enough alone?”

“I came to find you. What are
you
doing here? Why did you want everyone to think you were dead?”

“I’m here because I
am
dead. At least to the man I used to be. I fought so hard to be something I wasn’t. I’m tired, Peggy. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

She took a deep breath and almost choked on the stench. “I understand.”

“No. No you don’t. You
can’t
understand! All of your life you’ve been sure about everything. You had a big family. Parents who loved you and cared for you. You knew you wanted to be a botanist before you went to school. You married John and had the whole storybook family life. You’ve never had to struggle or ask questions that ate at you inside. I’m
still
struggling, still asking questions. But the one thing I know is my old life isn’t right for me. Not anymore.”

“Okay,” she corrected herself. “I may
not
understand what that’s like. But you didn’t even give me a chance. You never told me.”

He grunted. “Just as well. This way, Feed America lives on. Luther will take good care of it.”

“What are you saying? Haven’t you read the newspapers or watched TV? Luther is
dead
! They found him in the Community Garden. They think his body just gave out.” She didn’t bother telling him it might be more than that.

“What do you mean? He can’t be dead!”

“He’s dead, Darmus. Holles and I were at the hospital. I’m sorry.”

“Not Luther, too.” Darmus sobbed brokenly. “Not him, too. How could this happen? He was doing better. We thought he was going to get well again. Why didn’t Holles tell me?”

Holles!
Peggy paused. Was he involved? “It was probably what the two of you did to that poor man, Darmus! You both knew it was wrong. Luther left me a letter explaining the whole crazy thing. You have to come back to explain it to the police. Maybe they’ll go easier on you.”

“No one knows.” There was an odd, scary tone in his voice that bordered on eerie. “Except for
you,
I suppose. But you wouldn’t tell. You wouldn’t let them take me.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t know. But you can’t let that man be buried without his real name. You say it’s terrible to live your life without being able to tell the world who you really are, without knowing. Isn’t that what you’re doing to him?”

Peggy felt his warm hands on her shoulders but still couldn’t see his face. For a moment, she was frightened. How desperate was he? He didn’t know other people knew the truth, too. He might think she was the only one. She couldn’t believe Darmus would hurt her. But last week, she wouldn’t have believed she’d be having this conversation with him, either.

“You’re right. It was stupid. Desperate. When Luther called me, it seemed like a Godsend. I needed to get away. Luther said he would help.”

“It was a good way for him to take your place as head of Feed America.”

“It was all going to come crashing down anyway. I couldn’t keep going the way things were. I had to do something. But I can see what I did was wrong.”

“Come back with me,” she urged. “Talk to the police. You’ve never done anything wrong in your whole life. They’ll take that into consideration.”

“All right.” He sighed heavily. “Dr. Margaret Lee, purveyor of the right. We’ve had some grand times together, haven’t we? I remember when John was alive. When we were in college. Those were the days, like the song says, right? Those were the days.”

She reached out and put her hand on his cheek. He was still crying, tears slipping silently down his cheeks. “It will be all right, Darmus. I’ll go with you.”

“All right. Let me change clothes. I’m living in the apartment here. I don’t want to meet the police looking like this and smelling like trash. You, either. Come back for me in an hour. We’ll see what we can do to clean up everything else.”

“Okay.” She wasn’t sure if she should insist on going with him. He
sounded
rational, like the old Darmus. She knew he probably wasn’t. But she was afraid if she pushed him too hard, he might never go in. “I’ll come back in an hour. Promise me you’ll be here.”

“I will.” He kissed her hand. “Pretty Peggy.” “Oh well. One hour then?”

“One hour.” Peggy heard him leave. He was only a shadow in the alley. She wasn’t sure what to do. Should she follow him to make sure he was going to do what he said? She knew where to find him,
if
he was telling the truth.

But even if she followed him, what would she do if he decided to leave? She couldn’t stop him. He was small, but he was strong. It was terrible even thinking it could come to something like that between them.

But Darmus wasn’t in his right mind. She realized that now. He wasn’t responsible for what he did. Glancing back at the club, she wished her father, Steve, or Sam was there with her. She couldn’t afford to lose Darmus, either. She followed his shadow as he crept through the alley toward the nightclub.