Poisoned Petals

She thought about the fire again. She couldn’t help it. She saw Darmus lying next to the stove. The arson investigator said he was standing next to it, trying to light it when it didn’t come on. Not the brightest thing from a brilliant man. Why didn’t he smell the gas? She could smell it from outside.

She recalled how cold his arm had been when she tried to move him. She sat up in bed. Was that something she remembered to tell the investigator when she talked to him at the hospital that day? Why was he so cold? Even if he’d died the instant the stove blew up, he wouldn’t have been dead long enough to be cold. She’d tried to put it from her mind. Now it came back to haunt her.

And why did Luther have Darmus’s wedding band when he died in the garden? It should have been on Darmus’s finger. She’d seen his will. He’d asked to be buried with it. It had never been off his finger since he and Rosie broke up.

Peggy realized she’d accidentally put it into her pocket instead of putting it back into the bag with Luther’s possessions. She got up and took it out and looked at it.

There was no doubt it was Darmus’s. She remembered him showing it to her when he was planning to propose to Rosie. The fact that he still wore it and had never remarried told her he never really got over Rosie. He might have been dedicated to his causes, but he always held Rosie in his heart. What would he have said if he’d known they had a son together?

She wished he’d confided in her more. He was a very private person. She knew him better than anyone but always knew he held back. Darmus was very conscious of his role as a teacher and a facilitator. He wanted people to admire him to the point of shutting people away from the real person he was.

He never welcomed the spotlight Feed America brought him. He seldom appeared in public except for his classes. He let other volunteers take the limelight for his accomplishments.

He wanted to work behind the scenes, but sometimes Peggy felt he lost himself in trying to be an icon for the world. His view became too lofty and too untenable. They’d argued about some of his extreme ideas. Peggy always took the middle ground. Now she regretted those arguments. He wanted to be more than his humble beginnings in Blacks-burg, South Carolina. She understood that concept now.

She was almost asleep when she heard the ping of her computer telling her she had email. Thinking a diversion might be nice, she went to check it out.

Good evening, Nightrose.

Peggy sat back in her chair with a sigh. She hadn’t heard from Nightflyer in weeks. Her online chess partner and sometimes informant was always sketchy about his appearances and disappearances, but she thought she’d ask anyway.

Where have you been? She typed back to him.

Busy, as always. Would you like to play some chess?

That would be nice. The usual site?

You know me. I have a link to a new place.

Peggy agreed, though she didn’t really know him. All she knew about him was what he wanted her to know. She knew he’d been with the CIA when John was alive. She knew he worked with John. But otherwise, she was in the dark about Nightflyer, except he was either paranoid or really needed to be careful. She couldn’t tell which.

He appeared when he wanted to, usually out of the blue, and played a very good game of chess. He knew things about people, things he shouldn’t know. He’d explained that away as curiosity. She’d accepted the explanation but privately thought he must sit around monitoring information constantly. Where he was when he was doing that was a mystery to her.

She’d had him investigated by the police when she first met him online. Then he proved himself to her with knowledge about John she didn’t believe he could get any other way but by knowing him. And she remembered John telling her he worked with a strange man from the CIA on a case. Nightflyer had been helpful to her, but she was always a little wary of him. She was always a little excited when she heard from him, too, she admitted, even though she was way too old to feel that way about some strange man! Especially with Steve in her life.

She ignored the dozens of blogs and Web logs she had received from friends around the world and went to log on to the chess site. Everyone had ideas about something they wanted to share, but really, a twelve-page blog was too long! Someone could only read about phytoprotein for so long! Most of her friends were botanists. Somehow their blogs were turning into dissertations!

Peggy entered her name and found herself on a screen with a virtual chess set in front of her. Instead of the usual regulation chess set, this one was a grand wizard and dragon set, no doubt patterned after one from the Middle Ages. She waited until Nightflyer logged on, too, and remarked on how much she liked the set.

He replied. I found it accidentally. I thought you might like it. I hope you’re feeling lucky tonight. I think I might win. The computer kept track of their moves. White moves to e4.

Not particularly lucky. It hasn’t been a good day. Black moves to e5.

Yes. I know about your friend. I’m sorry. White moves to f4.

It seems like his life was cut short just as he was beginning to live. Black moves to d5.

I don’t think his death was accidental. White moves to Nf3.

What do you mean? Peggy was shocked at his assertion. He fought cancer for two years. He told Holles his heart was bad. Black moves to Bd6.

That may be. But there were mitigating factors. White moves to Qe2.

Such as? Black moves to Qe7.

Who takes over as head of Feed America now? Both men who captained the group are gone in a very short time. I think the situation is suspicious. White moves to Qxe4.