The Franklin Mortuary and Crematorium filed a breaking and entering report along with theft of a cadaver.
Julie Warner’s tearful face was all over the news as she begged the thief to return her husband’s body.
Even when the ME’s office called the crematorium and the Warner residence to tell them they had the body, it took another forty-eight hours to have the body returned to the mortuary.
Just before the body was scheduled to be released again, Mai went to the ME with the completed tox screen. The ME frowned, took a deep breath, then called the DA’s office. Mark Warner’s body wouldn’t be released after all. Not until further tests were made.
“They’re actually talking about giving me a commendation,” Mai told Peggy. “I don’t know if I should feel guilty or happy.”
“The important part is that the ME knows the truth, and he found out without you losing your job.”
Mai thanked her. “I don’t know how you did it, and I don’t want to know. But I appreciate your help.”
“I got you into this mess. I apologize. Sometimes I get a little overexcited about things. I don’t always think before I act.”
But Peggy was pleased with the outcome. Her knee was feeling so much better, she was going to be able to ride her bike to the shop. It was Saturday, but she was expecting a few special customers in for their orders. Then she was going to tackle a new design for an indoor flower box at an uptown restaurant.
She took Shakespeare for his walk, not noticing a basket of flowers on her front step until they were going back to the house. The flowers were purple hyacinths. She breathed in their springtime fragrance, then looked at the card. “Traditional meaning: I’m sorry. Please forgive me. It would grieve me to lose our friendship. Nightflyer.”
Her cell phone rang. Peggy recognized his voice and took a deep breath. “What do you want from me?” She glanced around the yard. Shakespeare was pulling toward the house for his breakfast. A man in an overcoat walked by on the sidewalk. At the same time, a car drove slowly past.
“I want to help.” Nightflyer’s tone was contrite. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Then tell me who you are and how you know so much.”
“Do you remember a case John worked with the FBI? It was about ten years ago. He had a contact. A friend from college. It was me. As far as how I knew about these two cases, I suppose you could say I’m interested in what appears to be poisonings. I monitor the Internet, police information, and hospitals. It’s not hard if you know how to do it.”
Peggy recalled the case. John spent a lot of time on it. She couldn’t remember what it was about, but she did remember him mentioning being at school with his FBI contact. “I remember that. But if that’s you, why didn’t you tell me? Why all the mystery?”
The laugh from the other end was harsh. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me to help.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. It made sense in some twisted way. Of course, he could’ve found that information like he knew so many other things. “What kind of gun did John carry?”
There was a brief pause and a chuckle. “You’re a cop’s wife, Peggy. John was lucky to have you. He carried a Smith and Wesson .45. It wasn’t standard to his department. He just liked it.”
“You’re right,” she admitted. “I don’t think you could learn that from the Internet. So what now? Do you come out of hiding and have tea with me?”
“I’m afraid not. But I’ll be in touch.”
The line went dead before Peggy could ask his name. Nightflyer would have to do. For now. But at least she knew she didn’t have to worry about him stalking her. Maybe he’d change his mind and tell her the whole story. Something in the tone of his voice when he began to explain who he was tugged at her curiosity.
She took the hyacinths and Shakespeare into the house. The phone was ringing. She grabbed it as she released him from his leash. He bounded into the kitchen for his breakfast, and she breathlessly answered the call.
It was Hal Samson. “Sorry I couldn’t get back to you before now. I was testifying at an insurance case for the hospital. What’s wrong?”
Peggy told him about Mark’s death. She didn’t go into detail about everything, but she managed to explain about the similar poisoning.
“You think there’s some connection?”
“I don’t know. I think it might be worthwhile checking into. I’m free this afternoon. How about you?”
They agreed to meet at the county hospital in Columbia. Peggy called Al and gave him the details she knew about the poisoning in South Carolina.
“I can’t go with you officially,” Al told her. “But unofficially, I’d like to hear the case. It was pretty amazing what happened with Warner, huh?”
“It was. I can’t imagine how it happened, can you?”
THE MORNING PASSED QUICKLY AT the Potting Shed. Peggy’s first order of faux antique garden tools came in and sold out to the few customers who were there. She got on-line and ordered two more shipments. She knew the implements would be popular, but she didn’t imagine they’d be gone before she had time to advertise them.
She let Dawn close the shop while she hurried over to Ri-Ra’s Irish Restaurant and Pub on Tryon Street. The owner was interested in adding flower boxes to the upstairs deck. It was outside, in the shadow of the Hearst building. Not many people were eating out there in the cooler weather, but Peggy could imagine colorful boxes during the warmer parts of the year. Of course, there could always be pansies to liven up the cold months.
