Pretty Poison

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?

When John died, her sister told her she’d find someone else. At the time, she was horrified. Yet here she was, only two years later, thinking about another man. It defied her sense of logic. But she couldn’t argue with the emotions pumping through her body.

Lunch was there when she got back. She determined between the bathroom and the table that she wasn’t going to sit there like a block of wood. She sat down, smiled at Steve, and asked him about his veterinary practice.

He looked surprised but played along. “It’s slow. I knew it would be. Starting over in a new town isn’t easy. But I like being here. I think it’ll work out.”

“Did Emma bring her cat to you? That kind of thing could get you in with a large group of people. They all use the same housekeepers, landscapers, and vets.”

“She brought the cat.” He sipped his coffee. “Unfortunately, it died. I don’t know if that’s going to get me in anywhere.”

“That’s too bad. But if you hang in there, I’m sure things will work out.”

“Speaking of animals, which seems to be a safe subject,” he teased, “how’s that big horse of a dog doing?”

Peggy told him about the owner coming to get the dog. “There wasn’t anything I could do to save the poor creature. He looked at me so pitifully, slobbering and pathetic.”

“The man or the dog?”

She was laughing at his words when she saw Paul. He was walking by the restaurant, going toward Founder’s Hall. When he saw her, he stopped and stared, then went to the door. She wished they’d chosen a spot at the back of the restaurant. This whole thing with Steve was too new for her to defend. She wasn’t even sure what she was doing.

“Isn’t that your son?” Steve asked when he saw Paul walk in.

“Yes. Do you suppose it’s too late to hide?”

“Why? Are you embarrassed to be with me?”

“Of course not,” she denied, then recapitulated. “I was brought up in a very Southern, conservative family. We don’t get embarrassed. We’re uncertain.”

They were both laughing when Paul stalked up to their table. “Mom.”

“Paul.” Peggy’s tone was defiant. She was too old to be shamed by her son.

Paul stared at Steve but didn’t speak to him.

Steve wasn’t happy with the situation and got to his feet. “Would you like to join us?”

“I don’t think so.”

“We weren’t really introduced the other day. I’m Dr. Steve Newsome. I’m a veterinarian. I live a few doors down from your mother.”

Paul ignored Steve’s outstretched hand. “I’m her son. I could live at home with her again anytime I want to.”

Peggy didn’t know whether to laugh at him or spank him. She wished the latter were possible. “Paul, was there something you wanted?”

“No, I guess not. I saw Al this morning. He told me you were running around town asking people questions about Mark Warner. I hope he impressed on you that this is police business.”

“He did. But thanks for asking.”

“Mom—” Paul began to speak but didn’t finish. “I’ll talk to you later. When you’re alone.”

“Nice to see you again,” Steve said as Paul left.

“Sorry. He’s a little overprotective sometimes. When he isn’t totally ignoring me.”

“Kids, huh? I’m glad I was never one of them.” Steve glanced at her untouched lunch. “Would you like to go?”

“No. I’m fine. Paul will have to get over himself. As for that part about him living at home again . . .”

“We could always sneak over to my place.” He smiled at her, then took a bite of his honey-baked ham on rye.

Peggy’s toes curled in her shoes. She ate some of her green beans, forcing them down her throat with a large swallow of tea.

“So what’s this about you getting in trouble for investigating Warner’s murder?”

Peggy was glad to tell him about it. Talking about the case kept her mind away from disturbing images of meeting Steve in her garden at midnight. She told him most of what she knew without mentioning Keeley.