Pretty Poison

TRAFFIC WAS HEAVY going from Queens Road to uptown Charlotte. Peggy navigated her bicycle down the tree-lined streets. A blast of late autumn air had shaken most of the remaining leaves down into the road. The combination of wet pavement and wet leaves made for several accidents. Angry drivers waited impatiently for squad cars to come. She passed them quickly, trying not to look smug. In the city, it paid to stay away from fossil- fueled engines.

Brevard Court and Latta Arcade were mostly deserted. Most of the shops didn’t open until ten. She saw the Potting Shed’s pickup and made a quick turn toward the loading area at the back of the shop.

Sam was helping Keeley unload flats of pansies. They were planting them in the plaza atrium that day. Pansies weathered Charlotte’s outdoor temperatures most of the winter. Their deep purple, yellow, and burgundy were eye-catching.

“Some of those pansies look a little wilted, don’t they?” Peggy asked, creeping up on them.

Surprised, Sam juggled a flat of pansies for a moment before he finally got his hands on them. “Damn!”

Keeley took a step back and put her hands to her chest. “You scared the crap out of me!”

Peggy grinned. “It’s good for you once in a while.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Sam argued. “You just took ten years off of my future high-end consulting practice.”

“I got twenty dollars off the bad flats because of their condition.” Keeley noticed her boss looking at the wilted flowers. “The supplier said these were the best he could get right now anyway.”

Peggy examined the plants. “They’ve had too much water.”

Sam lifted another flat and glanced toward the shop. “How weird was it finding a dead guy in there?”

“It was pretty weird. I’m a suspect, you know.”

Keeley dropped a flat of pansies. The plastic tray split open. Flowers and potting soil flew everywhere. “How could they think that?”

Peggy bent down to help her pick them up. “I found the body. That makes me a suspect.”

“That’s stupid.”

“They might have another suspect. Julie Warner told the police that she thought Mark was having an affair.”

Sam stopped unloading the pansies. “Not that he was having an affair with you?”

“No, Sam. Of course not. How could they?” Peggy patted his muscled arm.

Sam Ollson wanted to be a heart surgeon, but he looked more like a male model. Blond hair, always tan, perfect teeth, and shoulders a fullback would envy. He’d worked with her since she opened the Potting Shed the summer before he started college. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. I’m having some fun. I stopped when I saw you to be sure you got my message about going to have your fingerprints made. The police won’t let this go. Be sure you make the trip, or they’ll come looking for you.”

“I will,” Keeley Prinz said solemnly. Her doe-brown eyes were wide in her creamy face. Her thick brown hair was streaked blond by the summer sun. She was an attractive, muscular young woman, the daughter of Peggy’s best friend. She loved working outside and planned to be a forest ranger when she finished college. “Who do you think killed him?”

“I don’t know,” Peggy admitted. “Before Julie mentioned his affair, the police liked Mr. Cheever for it.”

“Homer?” Sam grinned. “They gotta be kidding, right?”

“Mark’s wallet and jewelry were gone. So were his shoes. They think Mr. Cheever hit him over the head and robbed him. I tried to tell the police it wasn’t possible. They won’t listen.”

“Come on! Even if Homer wanted to, he couldn’t get enough oomph to kill a man!”

Peggy answered quietly, “Mr. Cheever could be the suspect through default. Whoever did it left the shovel behind. Which probably means the person was wearing gloves and isn’t worried about fingerprints.”

“Or they got scared.” Keeley shrugged. “Imagine what it must be like to kill someone. I mean, unless you planned to do it.”

“Hitting somebody with a shovel doesn’t seem too calculated to me,” Sam observed. “It was probably a crime of passion. The police are right to look for Warner’s lover.”

“Were the two of you here night before last?” Peggy helped them unload the rest of the pansies and put them in the storage shed.

“We were here until what? Eight-thirty?” Sam looked at Keeley.

“Yeah. We picked up that order of tulip bulbs we planted yesterday at Dr. Marshall’s and dropped off the work order for the Langely estate where we planted the daffodils the day before.”

“And you didn’t see anything? Or anyone?”

“Nothing unusual.” Keeley dusted potting soil from her hands. “I think we would’ve noticed a man in the shop!”

“Did you notice if Mr. Cheever was around that night?” Peggy wiped her hands on a rag.

“I didn’t notice,” Sam answered. “I kind of take him for granted.”

“Me either,” Keeley said. “But he’s always around.”