wandering back to their cars. Her quest for yet another Warner woman seemed over, too. If another woman existed, she didn’t notice her being there.
She wondered if Keeley or Molly would’ve come if the circumstances were different. Even being sure the wife didn’t know what was going on, a mistress would have to be fairly brazen to come to her lover’s funeral. In Ronda’s case, she had no choice if she wanted to keep up appearances.
An odd wreath caught Peggy’s eye as she turned to go. She wasn’t able to see it with the crowd around the grave. In all the funerals she’d attended, she’d never seen another one like it.
The majority of it consisted of withered flowers. None of the other arrangements were in this state. It wasn’t caused by the weather. She looked at the tag. The flowers came from a reputable local florist, an acquaintance of hers. She couldn’t believe he’d been that careless.
The wreath was dotted with anemones, yellow carnations, and columbines. In the language of flowers, the wreath was a large proclamation of rejected love and pain. She couldn’t believe anyone would send such a thing to a funeral. But whoever was responsible knew the truth and might have been the one who put the columbine in Mark’s pocket. She looked for a card, but there was only the florist’s tag.
“It’s an interesting arrangement, don’t you think?”
Peggy looked up quickly and smiled at the widow. “Yes. It’s surprising.”
Julie touched the wreath with her gloved fingers. “I wonder what someone was trying to say. Or maybe the florist just had a bad day.”
“That’s probably it.” Peggy took Julie’s hand in hers. “I’m sorry for your loss. Losing a husband is a terrible thing. I’m so glad my son was grown when I lost mine. He was a great source of comfort for me. If I can help in any way, please let me know.”
“Thank you.” Julie watched as the cemetery workers began to cover the coffin. “There are times when I can’t believe he’s gone. I guess I’m still in shock.”
“I’m sure. Especially with all the difficulty trying to find out what happened to him.”
“Yes. That’s been hard. It was bad enough thinking some homeless man killed him for his shoes. But now to find out one of his girlfriends did it.” A delicate shudder ran through her diminutive frame.
“One of them?” Peggy seized on her words. “Was there more than one?”
Julie smiled. “My husband led a full and active life, Mrs. Lee. He was a very vigorous man. I couldn’t keep up with his needs. We had an understanding. He was a good husband and a good father.”
“You’re a better woman than me. If I’d found out my husband was sleeping around, I’m not sure what I would’ve done. I guess it’s my Irish temper. John would’ve had a bad headache from the frying pan I hit him with, if nothing else. Men can be such a burden.”
“That’s true. But it’s the way God intended it. Women are supposed to be chaste, except when they’re bearing children. Men don’t have those restrictions. I suppose it’s all part of the infinite plan.”
Peggy agreed in principle. “I wish you well, Julie.” She looked down at the green grass still untouched by frost beneath the two-hundred-year-old oak tree. “Oh look, a clover. I’ll pick it for you for luck.”
Julie stayed her hand. “That’s a five-leaf clover, Mrs. Lee. Those are unlucky. Only the four-leaf kind brings good fortune.”
“Well, you don’t need that then, do you?” Peggy smiled at her. “Take care, Julie.”
Making her way back to the bike rack, Peggy dialed the number for the Potting Shed on her cell phone. “I have something I have to check into, Selena. Can you watch the shop for a little while longer?”
“HEY PEGGY ! I HAVEN’T SEEN you in ages! What have you been doing with yourself?”
“Hi, Mort.” Peggy closed the door to the tiny florist shop in the East End. The scent of carnations, roses, and mums was overpowering. “I’ve been busy as always. How about you?”
“Me, too.” The man continued working on a large floral wedding arrangement. “What can I get for you?”
“I saw some of your work today.” She wandered through the shop, looking at the huge striped tiger lilies and masses of baby’s breath. “It was a little strange.”
He laughed. “But it made you look at the tag, right?
“I wish I’d seen that, Mort. But I was talking about the wreath at the Warner funeral.”
“Oh. That.” He sighed and lost his smile. “You know
“Right.” She touched the velvet petals on a rose. “There wasn’t a sympathy card on it. Who was the customer?”
“Now, Peggy. You know I can’t tell you. Some of my customers rely on my discretion. If people thought I’d take their orders and tell everyone who had them made up, I’d lose a lot of cheating husbands and unfaithful wives.”
She laughed as she neared the counter where he was working. “Like a lawyer or a doctor, right?”
“Exactly. I have a reputation to protect.”
“Did you ever do business with Mark Warner?”
“I guess it won’t hurt to admit it since he’s not gonna be much of a customer anymore. But, yeah, he was a big spender. Liked to send the ladies plenty of flowers.”
Peggy snapped the end off a red carnation and handed it to him. “What about Mrs. Warner?”
