Pretty Poison (17 page)

Taking out her cell phone, she started to dial 911. Uncertainty stayed her hand. Unless she had something more to say than she thought she saw a flashlight, she didn’t want to call. If she started calling the police every time there was an unusual sound or the dog growled, she’d be in a mess. She stayed where she was and watched the shadows as cars passed her in the street. There was no sign of the light again.

Sighing at her flights of fancy, taking a deep breath to clear her mind, she urged the dog toward home. It had been a strange week. No wonder she was quick to panic. Once she got home and had a nice cup of tea, she’d feel better.

A car she didn’t recognize was waiting in her drive when she got home. She parked her bike beside the house. A man opened the car door and got out. “Peggy Lee?”

Her heart was beating fast and her knees were wobbly. “Yes?”

Paper rustled. “I saw your flyer. I think you might have my dog.”

Peggy gave a sigh of relief. “You startled me. I wasn’t expecting someone to come to the house.”

The young man moved into the streetlight and frowned at her. “I’m sorry. I looked up the phone number on the flyer. I live about a block from here. I couldn’t wait to come and take Jo-Jo home.”

The dog whined and barked at the man. She patted his head and soothed him. “He seems to know you.”

“Sure he does.” He clapped his hands together. “Come on, Jo! Let’s go home!”

But the dog backed away from him. He looked up at Peggy and whined, butting his huge head against her leg.

“He seems to know you,” she amended. “But he doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

“That’s ridiculous! I paid a fortune for that dog. He’s damn well coming home with me.”

Peggy stood between the man and the cowering dog. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll have to ask you to leave now.”

“Not without my dog.” He reached his hand for the leash.

The dog lunged at him, barking and growling like he’d take his hand off. Jo-Jo chased his owner back to the car and put his massive paws on the window even after the man was inside. His teeth grated against the glass as he tried to get at him.

“That’s enough.” Peggy called him back.

“I’ll be here tomorrow with my lawyer,” the man promised when the dog went back to her.

She ignored the car leaving the drive and turned to the dog. “Let’s go inside. It looks like we have some thinking to do.”

The phone was ringing. She closed the door and locked it, took the leash off of the dog. He immediately fell on the floor at her feet as she answered the phone. She wanted to collapse there, too. Her life had taken on a weird, frantic aspect that didn’t want to go away.

“Hi Peggy. Hal Samson. I wanted to let you know what’s happened. The police decided not to press charges against the husband. There was no proof he was involved in his wife’s death. They aren’t sure where to go from here.”

She took off her gloves and sat down on the bench by the door. “I’m glad for the husband if he was innocent, but that still doesn’t answer the question of how the poisoning happened, does it? She was murdered, Hal. They can’t want to overlook that fact.”

“They don’t. But apparently, there’s no reason to suspect the husband beyond the obvious. I talked with the detective tonight. They’re going to continue to investigate. But they’re stymied right now, and that puts the case on the back burner. It seems murder by poison doesn’t happen often in Columbia.”

“I suppose that’s true of almost everywhere. A gun is so much easier,” Peggy commiserated. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help, Hal. I wish we could’ve saved her. Would it be too much to ask her name and address? I’d really like to send a plant for her funeral. I feel as if I should know her name.”

“I don’t think it would be a breach of ethics for me to tell you. After all, you worked on the case. Do you have a piece of paper and a pencil?”

Peggy took down the woman’s information, then promised Hal they could meet for lunch one day and said good night.
Molly Stone
. She stood looking at the woman’s name for a long time. She was very young. Who would want to kill her?

The police were putting the case on the back burner. How often was John unhappy with that decision? But like the decision to charge Mr. Cheever with Warner’s death, many police decisions were made for expediency rather than taking the time and money to find the truth. It was a sad fact for the officers as well as the public they protected but part of the reality of life.

She rubbed the dog’s head. “Let’s go and eat something. It looks like I’m going to be buying more dog food after all.”

After a light supper and a quick check on her plants, Peggy went upstairs with the dog at her heels. Her mind was buzzing with questions that had no answers. She put on the green satin pajamas Paul gave her for her birthday last September. The dog was already asleep in her bed. She turned on her computer and logged on to her favorite gaming site.

Nightflyer was already there. She typed in her screen name, and he answered immediately.

She laughed.
“LOL! You could say that.”

Peggy shifted uneasily in her chair.
“Now we play chess.”

Getting angry with his apparent omniscient knowledge, she fired back,
“You don’t know as much as you think, my friend. The Columbia police aren’t through investigating that death.”

Peggy beat him in the first game. It was a surprise to her. She suspected that he let her win. Especially when he challenged her to a second game and thoroughly squashed her.

“One more to decide the victor?”
She typed into the chat box.

The same feeling she had leaving the store that night came over her. She almost looked around for a surveillance camera.
“Stalking is illegal.”

There was no reply. His name vanished from the gaming site roster. She wasn’t sure what to do. She supposed she could mention Nightflyer’s insinuations to Paul, but he hadn’t threatened her in any way. She didn’t want the police ripping her computer apart if they took her seriously. She turned off the light on the desk, deciding to wait and see what happened.

SHE WOKE UP AT EIGHT the next morning with the dog barking and jumping in her bed. Someone was pounding on the front door. Guessing it was the obnoxious man who tried to claim the dog, she put on her robe and ran down the stairs, ready to do battle.

Instead, it was Al. “Peggy, I know this man is a friend of yours, but you can’t go around pretending to be with the police, questioning people about the murder. It was bad enough that you snuck in to see him in jail. It’s illegal to impersonate an officer.”

“Good morning to you, too.” She closed the door behind him, watching as he paced the foyer.

“Well? What do you have to say?”

“John always said not to admit anything. I wasn’t there, and I didn’t do anything.”

“Peggy, this is serious. Rimer likes you, but he’s not gonna let you screw this up. We have our suspect. We made our arrest. The man had everything but Warner’s blood on him.”

“Let’s talk about that, Al. How do you suppose he managed to get the watch, the wallet, and the shoes without getting any blood on him?”

“Maybe he did get messed up. He’s homeless. He could’ve dropped his jacket or whatever in a trash can, and we’d never find it.”

“He’s worn the same coat for two years. He doesn’t get rid of things.”

“Maybe he does when he gets blood on them.” Al stopped and glared at her.

“What about
his
story?”

“You mean the phantom woman who ran out of the shop?” He laughed. “Did you expect him to confess? You were a cop’s wife too long for that.”

“No, I didn’t expect a confession. But aren’t you even interested in finding out if a woman was in the shop before he got there?”

“We’ve questioned everyone, Peggy. Even Angela Martin, his PA. You weren’t the only one who knew he was having an affair. No one else had motive and opportunity like Cheever did. He probably didn’t mean to kill him. He meant to knock him down and take his stuff. He hit him too hard. I’m sorry, but he still has to pay for his crime.”

Before Peggy could argue the point, there was another knock on the door. It was the man from last night who tried to claim the dog.

“I’m back for my dog. Here are my documents. I bought him, got his shots, and cared for him. This is my lawyer. He’s prepared to go to court, if necessary.” The lawyer stepped forward, looking uneasy.

Al joined them, flashed his badge, and the two men backed down. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I’m glad you’re here, Detective.” The lanky young man nodded his head and grinned at Peggy. “I want to have this woman arrested for not giving my dog back.”

Al raised a black brow at Peggy. She told him the story of how she found the dog and put out flyers to locate his owner. He looked at the man’s papers. “Looks like everything’s in order. Why didn’t you give him the dog back?”

“The dog didn’t want to go with him. He chased him and almost bit him.”

“Peggy, a lot of runaway kids don’t want to go home with their parents either. But the law says they have to. The man owns this dog.” He handed the papers back. “You have to give it to him.”

The man in the doorway rubbed his hands and laughed. “See? I told you I’d get him back.”

Peggy picked the leash up from the side table. “Here you go. If I ever see that dog running around like some half-starved scarecrow again, I’ll call the Humane Society and
my
lawyer will sue you for animal cruelty.”

The man jerked the leash out of her hand and approached the dog confidently—until the animal picked up his scent and began snarling at him. “Nice boy. Good Jo-Jo.”

“Well, if everything is in order,” the lawyer in the plain gray suit started to move away from the door, “I’ll be going.”

Jo-Jo’s owner managed to get a headlock on the dog. He tied the leash around his neck like a choke collar. The dog tried to pull away but ended up coughing and gasping for breath.

Peggy wanted to kick the man. The look on her face must’ve given her away. Al put a large hand on her shoulder to hold her back.

“Thanks, Detective.” The man put out his hand to shake Al’s.

“I think you’d better go, son. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s more than the dog who’d like to bite you.”

“I suppose that was necessary.” Peggy watched the man shove the dog into the backseat of his BMW.

“The animal was his property. Sorry.”

She bristled. “I don’t want the dog. But I don’t want to see it mistreated.”

Al sighed. “Just remember what I said about interfering in this investigation.”

“What investigation? It seems to me that you aren’t investigating anymore.”

“Whatever you want to call it, don’t get involved. Okay?”

“I have to go to work. I’ll see you later.”

 

 

HER BOTANY CLASS WENT SMOOTHLY. The students forgot her notoriety in their unhappiness about her test. She sat at her desk for a few minutes after everyone was gone. The tests looked pretty good. She knew most of the students would never be involved in any future botanical pursuit. For most, this was an easy science credit. She’d been teaching there long enough to know the kids regarded her as an easy class. She didn’t mind. The few students who were serious about the subject were enough to keep her going.

“Ready for lunch, Professor?”

Peggy looked up at Steve. “Were we supposed to have lunch together?”

“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by. Do you have other plans?”

“No. I’m glad to see you. You’ve saved me from sitting here and going through all these tests.”

“Consider yourself saved. Where would you like to go for lunch?”

They decided to take Steve’s car and go to the Mimosa Grill. Peggy had never been there, even though it was across the street from Latta Arcade. Steve loved their food.

“I saw the Rolls in your garage. That’s a classic,” he observed after they were seated at a table by the window.

“It belonged to my father-in-law. My husband never drove it. I’m restoring it and changing the engine to run on hydrogen. There’s too much fossil fuel emission without my adding to it.”

“That’s a challenge,” he admitted. “I’m impressed. Do you have mechanical experience?”

“No.” She picked up the lunch menu. “But how hard can it be? The combustion engine is pretty basic. Have you ever worked on a car?”

He laughed. “A little. When I was in college, I had this old Ford that had to be worked on every day. I swore once I was making some money I wouldn’t ever work on a car again. But I’ll be happy to give you a hand if you need one.”

There was no mistaking his warm tone or the meaning in his eyes. Peggy mumbled something she was pretty sure he wouldn’t understand and stared at the menu. When the waitress finally came, she ordered a vegetable plate and sat back.

There were a few awkward moments where they made small talk about the weather and the Panthers’ winning streak. Peggy drank too much iced tea and had to excuse herself. She looked at her face in the small, dimly lit bathroom. Her cheeks were rosy, and her green eyes were sparkling. She was excited to be there with Steve, and she felt guilty at the same time. Was she supposed to be interested in another man already?