Pretty Poison (11 page)

“You’re probably right,” she acknowledged. “I shouldn’t be up playing chess with strangers in the middle of the night anyway.”

“If you’re not sleeping, I could get you a prescription for that,” he offered. “Not getting enough sleep is bad for the nervous system.”

“Thanks anyway, Hal. I’ll be fine. I don’t envy you having to deal with people’s loved ones after such a tragic death. Please keep in touch.”

Peggy hung up the phone and logged back in for another chess game. There were several immediate answers to her challenge. But none of them were Nightflyer. She realized she’d never seen that name before.

Hal was probably right about turning off the computer and going to bed. But a cold chill slid down her spine, and she stayed up for a few more hours. The event haunted her. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she knew who Nightflyer really was.

 

 

PEGGY WAS AT THE Potting Shed the next morning when Mai called from the precinct. She wasn’t officially open on the weekend, but a few good customers needed to come in for supplies now and then. It gave her a chance to do some straightening up and check the inventory for Christmas. Unlike most retail establishments, her garden shop had to get through fall before plunging into the holidays. Seasons were important to gardeners.

“Peggy, I just found out!” Mai told her. “They picked up Mr. Cheever last night. They’re letting him sleep it off in a cell before they question him. But he had Mark Warner’s personal possessions. It doesn’t look good for him.”

“Thanks for letting me know. I wonder if I could see him.”

“I doubt it. We contacted his daughter in Rock Hill. She’s supposed to come in. They might let her see him, but you’re not a relative. Until they get everything settled, the police will be the only ones talking to him.”

“You mean until he’s charged with murder.” Peggy pursed her lips in frustration. “Does he have a lawyer?”

“Not until he asks for one. He hasn’t been formally charged. Maybe he has an alibi or something that can clear him.”

“Maybe. I hope so. Thanks for calling anyway. By the way, was the flower I gave you a match for the petal you found in Mark’s pocket?” Peggy could hear Mai shuffling through her papers.

“It was. We sent it off to Atlanta to be identified. We don’t have a botanist on staff.”

“It was a columbine. But I’m not on the payroll. You’ll have to do it the hard way. I’ll talk to you later.”

Peggy could hardly wait for the last customer to leave. She usually hung around the shop most of Saturday, encouraging customers to stay for tea and conversation. Sometimes she had lunch with a few good friends. Today, she had too much on her mind to appreciate her gardening paradise. She locked up at ten-thirty and rode her bike to the uptown precinct. She had to figure out a way to see Mr. Cheever.

The sergeant at the desk recognized her this time. He worked there when John was alive. Mai had been called away to a crime scene in south Charlotte, but Al was in his office. He sent Peggy back without bothering to call for permission.

Al was surprised to see her. “Peggy! What brings you down here?”

She sat in a chair by his desk. “I’d like to see Mr. Cheever. I heard you arrested him last night.”

“Word sure gets around.” He shook his head. “But you
know
better! You can’t see him. They brought him out of detox a little while ago. He’s a bit disoriented, but otherwise he’s okay. Unless you’re his lawyer, nobody sees him today but us.”

“You could arrange it for me. I really need to talk to him, Al. I feel responsible for him being a suspect in this case.”

“It’s not possible. Please don’t ask me.”

“Hogwash! You could make it possible.”

“The lieutenant would ream my butt. I can’t get you in there. You don’t realize all the heat we’re taking on this murder. This family has friends in important places. But there’s nothing for you to feel guilty about, Peggy. We would’ve heard about him one way or another. There’s nothing you can do for him now. Go home.”

She got to her feet. “You know I’ll find a way to see him.”

Al rubbed his eyes with his hands. “Go home before I lose my pension. Mary would do lots worse things to me than the lieutenant.
You
don’t scare me.”

Peggy was seething as she stormed out of the office. She passed the sergeant without speaking, pushing the sorry little ficus away from the door again. He stared at her but didn’t ask why she did it.

She didn’t have a lawyer who represented her interests. But she did have a friend who was a lawyer. She went to his house, only to find he was playing golf.

She stalked him at the Myers Park Country Club. Park Lamonte flatly refused her request to represent Mr. Cheever. He had a plate full of pro bono work already taking up his time, and the case was too high profile. Besides, he was friends with the Warners. It would represent a conflict for him.

“You wouldn’t really have to represent him,” she urged. “Just pretend you will so we can talk to him.”

Park looked at her like she was crazy. “That’s only breaking about half the rules I could be disbarred for. I can’t do it, Peggy. I’m sorry. You know I would if I could.”

“Could you recommend someone else? I’ll pay his fee. It doesn’t have to be pro bono.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and grinned. “If you’ve got the cash, Peg, any knee-jerk attorney can take the case. Hell, a second-year legal student could do the work. It won’t matter anyway. The man’s already tried, convicted, and hanged in this town.”

She scowled at him when he kissed her cheek and invited her over for dinner one night. “I hope
you’re
never in a tight spot and someone says that about you!”

“I hope not, too. Go home, Peg,” Park advised. “This is too big to beat. If this man is your friend, plan to visit him in prison. That’s the best you can do for him. Don’t waste your money. Let the state pay for an attorney.”

But she wasn’t going to let that happen. She didn’t know where to find an attorney on a Saturday. All the law offices she called were closed. She knew the court would appoint a lawyer for Mr. Cheever, but that wouldn’t solve her problem of getting in to see him.

Sam was waiting at her house. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for the last hour.”

“I’ve been trying to get a lawyer for Mr. Cheever. They picked him up last night. He had all of Mark’s stolen personal effects.” She rested her bike against the side of the house. “No one wants to take the case.”

Sam slapped his hand against his leg. “I guess that’s it then. It doesn’t matter
who
has their keys.”

“Why? Did you find someone with a key missing?”

“I’m not sure. Last night Keeley asked to borrow my key to get into the shop. She told me she left hers at home. Which may be true. I didn’t pursue it.”

“Why not?”

He scratched his head. “I have to work with her, Peggy. I got this far. Maybe you could go the rest of the way.”

“I’ll talk to her. First, I have to find a lawyer desperate enough to take this case.” She started toward the front door.

“If you’re looking for desperate, I think I can help with that. My sister, Hunter, is a criminal lawyer. She had a falling-out with one of the partners in the law firm that hired her when she got out of school. Now she’s trying to make it on her own.”

“What kind of falling-out?”

“The senior partner hit on her, and she broke his arm. She’s a black belt.”

Peggy laughed. “Sounds like my kind of woman. Could you give her a call?”

 

 

AN HOUR LATER, Sam and Peggy met Hunter Ollson at the Mecklenburg County Jail. Peggy rode over with Sam in the Potting Shed pickup. They had to circle for ten minutes before they could find a parking place.

“Peggy, this is my sister, Hunter.”

“Nice to meet you.” Hunter put out her hand and shook Peggy’s with enthusiasm. “I appreciate the opportunity to represent your friend. I’ve been following the case, and I made a few calls on the way over here.”

“I’m impressed. Is everyone in your family a go-getter?” Peggy looked at the two siblings. They were both specimens of good Nordic genetics. Hunter was as blond, tall, and muscular as her brother. There was a no-nonsense look in her fierce blue eyes that made Peggy glad she was on her side.

“As I understand it,” Hunter continued, “you want to be my legal assistant. You want to talk to your friend, right?”

“Yes. I need to understand what happened. He may even know who committed the murder. I’m sure he’s innocent.”

“That’s fine. We’re not breaking any laws, just bending a few. Take this.” Hunter handed her a heavy briefcase. “I like my coffee black, no sugar.”

Peggy wasn’t sure what she was getting into. It seemed unlikely she’d have the time to fetch coffee for Hunter. Maybe she didn’t explain the situation well enough. Whatever, she didn’t want to argue about it while they were standing on the steps.

Sam leaned his head close to hers. “She’s kidding, Peggy.”

“Thanks. Good sense of humor, too.”

Hunter said good-bye to her brother, then dashed up the stairs, leaving Peggy to trail behind her. She barked out requests as she walked. Peggy scrambled to find some paper and write them down.

When they reached the front desk, Hunter produced her credentials, told the officer on duty she’d been hired to represent Mr. Cheever, and demanded to see her client at once.

Peggy was impressed and uncertain about her attitude. She half expected the officer to turn them down. But he nodded and buzzed them through the side door. They passed through another weapons search, then walked down the dismal gray hall to the visiting area.

“You’re doing fine,” Hunter confided to Peggy. “I hope I wasn’t too hard on you. They expect lawyers to talk to paralegals like that.”

“I think I can handle it.” Peggy replied. “I should’ve asked about your fee for representing Mr. Cheever.”

Hunter smiled, showing dazzling, perfect white teeth. “Don’t worry about it. I’m still living at home with my parents. I’d do almost anything for a thousand dollars. Besides, this case could bring me the notoriety I need to pull in the rich basketball players who need legal assistance.”

They were escorted to a small room. A brown plastic table and several chairs were pushed together in the middle of it. Mr. Cheever was brought in as they sat down.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” a burly deputy told them as he left, locking the door behind him.

“Do your thing. Keep it down though. Uncle Sam is watching.” Hunter nodded at the camera in the corner.

Peggy took Mr. Cheever’s hands in hers. “Do you know who I am?”

The dull brown eyes squinted at her. “I’m not real sure. Are you Jane?”

“I’m Peggy Lee from the Potting Shed. Who’s Jane?”

“My daughter. They said she was coming to see me.”

“She’ll probably be here later. I brought you a lawyer who’s going to defend you. You have to tell her everything you saw the night Mark Warner was killed.”

“Who? I didn’t see anyone killed.”

“I’m Hunter Ollson, Mr. Cheever. Do you understand why the police brought you in?”

“They said I took something.”

“That’s right. You took some things from a man in Peggy’s shop. Do you remember that?”

He nodded, gazing into the distance like he was trying to remember. “He was lying on the floor.”

Peggy squeezed his hand. “Yes! He was on the floor. How did you get into the shop?”

“The door was open. I walked in. He was asleep. He didn’t need his shoes or that other stuff. It was cold. I couldn’t find my shoes.”

“But he was already dead when you got there,” Hunter clarified. “That makes you guilty of robbery, but not murder. That plus diminished capacity should get you off, no problem.”

“He’s not at his best right now,” Peggy told her. “He’s usually quoting Shakespeare and singing arias from
Madame Butterfly
. I don’t know why he’s like this, but maybe you should ask to have a doctor see him.”

“Okay. The important thing is that he’s innocent.”

Peggy got Mr. Cheever’s attention again. “Do you remember seeing anyone else at the shop the night Mark Warner was killed?”

“That woman.”

“What woman? What did she look like?”

“She ran out. I heard them yelling. I saw the door open and went inside. He was on the floor.”

“Did you see her face?” Peggy asked him.

Mr. Cheever stared at the wall behind her. “I’m hungry. Can I get something to eat? Where’s Jane?”

Hunter took Peggy aside. “I think we should have a doctor see him before he says anything else. If he’s been injured or he’s sick, it would be better to have it documented. We don’t seem to be getting through to him right now. Let me see what’s going on, when they plan to arraign him or whatever. I don’t know if he’s even been charged yet.”

Peggy agreed. She hated to leave him there, but she got what she came for. He couldn’t possibly lie in his condition. He was barely able to put two sentences together. He went into the shop because the door was open. Mark was already dead.

She sat back down with him while Hunter made the arrangements and found out what was happening. Peggy tried to talk to him again, but he was rambling about food and his daughter. Most of what he said didn’t make any sense.

When Hunter returned, the deputy took Mr. Cheever back to his cell.

“He’s very hungry,” Peggy told the deputy. “Could he have something to eat?”

“Sure. We’ll get him something.”

Hunter waited until they were alone, then took Peggy’s arm and bent her head close as they stood in the hall. “The DA has already formally charged him with first-degree murder and robbery. He’ll be arraigned this afternoon. They’re going to take him to have some tests done. We’ll see what happens.”