ground. It only took a few days of sun and warm temperatures to bring them back.
After that, the tulips and hyacinths argued for space in March and April. May brought the irises, followed by the cannas in June and July. The dinner plate asters filled the garden in August. Mums began flowering in September and stayed around until November. The bulb bed was always busy.
“What are you still doing here?” Peggy found a small pink rose blooming beside a large piece of white quartz. The poor little thing was leggy and almost brown with frost, but it held its head high. A small azalea bush sheltered it from most of the cold temperatures. She gave it a dose of water and fertilizer, then continued separating her bulbs.
She separated and replanted about half the bulbs in the bed. Then she covered the whole thing with peat to protect it over the winter.
She turned her gaze on a small area near a stone bench. It had been one of John’s favorite places to sit. A leafless Japanese cherry tree draped its branches across one side. A brass sundial kept pace with the day. It was a gift from Paul for John’s birthday the year he died.
Peggy knew the tree needed pruning. She didn’t know if she had the heart to do it. She could still remember John bringing it home one afternoon. He’d been so proud of it.
She took out her pruning shears and straightened her spine. Memories or not, the tree needed a good trim. Her cell phone rang as she approached the tree. She let out a sigh of relief, even as she chastised herself for being a coward.
“Hi Peggy.” Keeley’s voice sounded distant on the phone. “I got your message. What’s up?”
“I was calling to see if you lost your key for the shop.” Peggy came right to the point. “Sam found one in the back by the loading dock, and it doesn’t seem to belong to anyone else.”
For a long moment, there was no reply. Peggy thought her signal might be bad.
Keeley finally said, “Maybe. I’ll check. I never seem to need it, since Sam’s always there.”
“Is something wrong?” Peggy wished she could talk to her in person. “You sound strange.”
“You know me. I’m always strange. Anything else?”
“The police arrested Mr. Cheever for killing Mark Warner. I went to see him. He told me he saw a woman run out of the shop that night.”
“That’s terrible. I hope he has a good lawyer.”
Peggy told her about Sam’s sister. “She’s quite a character. I think you’d like her. How would you like to come over for a brainstorming session later? Maybe we could come up with something to help Mr. Cheever.”
“I’d love to, but I have to study. Maybe later?”
“Sure, Keeley. I’ll talk to you later.”
Something was definitely wrong. She sounded preoccupied and nervous. Peggy put away her cell phone and was about to start on the tree again when a cardinal flew by, swooping down close to the dog. The Great Dane jumped up and missed the bird, but he kept jumping at it anyway. The nylon rope that said it could be used to tow a car snapped. The dog ran off, following the bird.
“Oh, no!” Peggy heard a scream from Clarice’s backyard followed by Poopsie’s frantic barking, and ran next door.
Both Poopsie and his larger counterpart were standing on top of Peggy’s neighbor. Covered with mud and screaming, Clarice was trying to push the dogs off of her. With the cardinal resting in a large crape myrtle above her head, the Great Dane wasn’t moving. His booming bark sounded around the enclosed garden like a fog horn.
Peggy grabbed her dog’s collar and finally managed to pull him away. The cardinal flew off, unaware of the commotion it caused.
Clarice staggered to her feet, refusing Peggy’s offer of help. “That animal is a menace! If I see it out of your yard again, I’m going to call animal control.”
There wasn’t much point in assuring her that the dog wouldn’t get away again. Peggy dragged the dog as he licked her and wagged his tail. “You’re going to have to come in here while I print up some flyers to take around. My life is complicated enough without a big lug like you causing a disaster every five minutes.”
After making sure there was nothing he could knock down, she put him in the laundry room with a pail of water to drink. Then she went upstairs to shower and change clothes.
There were a dozen E-mails waiting for her when she turned on her computer. One of them was an invitation from Nightflyer to play chess again at eight that night. It was sent through the gaming site, so it didn’t include an E-mail address. She saved the E-mail anyway.
She had to find out how he knew about the poisoning death in Columbia. It was too eerie to let go. There was probably a simple explanation; he worked at the hospital or something. But she planned to meet him on-line that night and ask him.
The flyers were simple to make. She used Microsoft Word to create the document, then printed twenty copies. Surely there weren’t that many Great Danes lost on Queens Road in the last few days. Arming herself with a stapler, she checked on the dog. He was sleeping in the far corner of the laundry room on top of the furnace vent. He looked up and started to get excited when he saw her. Peggy quickly shut the door.
She didn’t bother putting on her cape. The sun was still warm. She put the first flyer on the electric pole right outside her house. Then she stapled one on every pole as she walked down the street.
“Looking for the owner?” Steve’s voice took her out of her world of worrying about the police stopping her for putting up signs on the street.
“Yes.” Peggy was glad she’d changed clothes on the off chance that she might see him. People had told her that her cranberry wool slacks and matching sweater were flattering. She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and dropped the stapler. So much for trying to seem elegant or sophisticated.
He picked it up and smiled at her. “Looks like you could use some help.”
