they know you work with poisons. That’s not much of a coincidence to me.”
“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
“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.
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.”
