“What now?” her father finally asked.
“I’m not sure. I know I
“How will you find him if he’s hiding?”
She started the truck, her hands shaking on the wheel, and reversed out of the parking lot. “I don’t know. I can’t believe this is happening. What in the world is he thinking?”
“I’d say he isn’t. At least not in his right mind. You say he isn’t a criminal, but I don’t think the police are going to see it that way.”
“I know.”
“Is there something I can do to help you find him?”
“
He chuckled. “Whatever! I saw the papers when you helped solve those murders. I was mighty proud of you, little girl.”
Despite her age, it still made her smile when he called her that name. Was anyone ever too old to be reminded that there was someone older, someone wiser who was looking over their shoulder? When she was in college it annoyed her, but she’d come to appreciate it as the years passed and younger people seemed to dominate her life. “Thanks, Dad. But I don’t think so. I’ll take you back home. Then I’ll make a few calls. I have to talk to Al.”
“Never mind that. I’m in for the pound! And don’t worry.” He took out a huge pistol from a holster under his lightweight cotton jacket. “I’ll take care of anything that gets out of line.”
“Where did you get that?”
“I carry it for protection. It’s a bad world out there, little girl. Your mother and I live out on a farm alone and travel by ourselves a bit. I wanted to be sure we’d be safe.”
“You have shotguns you hunt with. Why a pistol?”
“Because it’s so handy.” He grinned. “See? You didn’t even know I had it on me.”
“Do you have a permit for that?”
“I do. And I took shooting lessons. I can shoot a fly off a cow’s butt at one hundred yards.”
She wasn’t sure if that was good, but she hoped Paul didn’t find out about it. He wasn’t a big fan of concealed weapons. “All right. But put it away for now. And don’t take it out unless someone threatens our lives. I’m going home to change clothes after I check in at the Potting Shed and then I’ll decide what to do.”
PEGGY DIDN’T PLAN ON EVERYONE wanting to go to the Potting Shed with her. But when she came back downstairs after changing clothes, her mother, and her father were waiting for her. Cousin Melvin and Aunt Mayfield had decided to take naps.
“So this is the Potting Shed!” Peggy’s father looked around at the antique garden furniture and lemon verbena display, then stomped his foot on the hardwood floor. “Good floors.”
“Thanks, Dad. You’ve already met Sam. This is Selena Rogers. She helps me out here at the shop. And this is Keeley Prinz. She works in the field with Sam most of the time. I have two other part-timers who come in when we get really busy.”
“Like now.” Selena shook hands with Peggy’s father. “Nice to meet you. We’re
“Of course!” Ranson looked at the people streaming in and out of the front door. “You’re doing a wonderful business here, Margaret! Congratulations, darlin’.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Peggy glanced at her mother, who was frowning. “Would you like to sit down, Mom?”
“No.” Her mother shook her head. “I’d like to go home now. Or at least back to your place.”
“Somethin’ wrong, sweetheart?” her husband asked.
“Our daughter is running a garden shop after going to school practically all of her life. What could be wrong?”
“Mom!” Peggy whispered, glancing at the people she did business with every day. “Maybe we could talk about this later.”
“That’s fine,” her mother replied. “I’m sure nothing I say is going to change your mind anyway. You always were a stubborn child, Margaret. Always determined to have things your way.”
“Wow! That really surprises me.” Keeley nudged Sam.
“Yeah.” He laughed. “Who would’ve guessed?”
“Don’t the two of you have somewhere to go?” Peggy asked them.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Let’s get out of here, Keeley. I have plans to be inside sipping lemonade by three.”
“Be careful, you two,” Peggy cautioned. “Be sure to stay hydrated.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Sam nodded his head as he picked up a bag of fertilizer. “Nice to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Hughes.”
“Good to see you too, son,” Peggy’s father acknowledged.
“Who’s for coffee this morning?” Emil Balducci and his wife, Sofia, pushed past customers carrying hoes and
