Poisoned Petals

have plenty of gay and black friends back home! We knew exactly what you meant with Sam. We don’t like him any less for it.”

She smiled at him. “Okay. Sorry. But Aunt Mayfield and Cousin Melvin—”

“We used to call them rubes.” He laughed. “Not sure what it means, but I think it applies here.”

Peggy laughed. “Yeah, I think so.”

She went back to scrutinizing the crowd. Why would Darmus pick a place like this? He’d never spent time at nightclubs or hanging out with whoever was considered cool.

Peggy saw Hunter, Sam’s sister, and her new boyfriend, who looked like a quarterback, barely moving to the music, wrapped around each other on the dance floor. She tapped Hunter’s bare shoulder. Might as well use whatever resource was available. If Darmus realized what she was trying to do, he might disappear.

“Peggy!” Hunter quickly unwrapped her arms from around her quarterback and lost the dreamy-eyed expression on her beautiful face. “What are you doing here? Who’s your friend? Have you thrown Steve over?”

“This is my father, Hunter. Dad, this is Sam’s sister, Hunter. I’m looking for someone.” Peggy smiled at the quarterback. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”

“Sure. I’ll go and grab something to drink.”

“Hello, Mr. Lee.” Hunter shook Ranson’s hand when her boyfriend was gone. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, young lady. But I’m a Hughes, not a Lee.”

“Oh, sorry! Of course you’re not!” Hunter’s face suffused with color. She turned to Peggy. “What’s wrong? Has there been another murder in or around the Potting Shed?” She stood up to her full, impressive height, looking like an avenging goddess with her hands on her hips, the silky material of her pale blue dress outlining her statuesque body.

“No.” Peggy quietly explained what had happened. “You know what Darmus looks like from working in the Community Garden. Do you think you could help us find him?”

“You think he’s here?” Hunter laughed. “Has he been reincarnated? No offense. But I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

“I know. Humor me.”

“Sure.” She grabbed her date’s arm as he came back with beer for both of them. “This is Kevin. He can help, too.”

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed. “Help with what?”

“Don’t I know you?” Peggy peered into his face above the bulging neck and chest muscles.

“Yeah. I helped you dig through some trash. Me and Sam.” He grabbed Hunter close to him. “And my baby.”

“That’s right. It’s good to see you again.”

“You, too.” He shook her hand.

“But Hunter, I’d rather everyone didn’t know about—”

“We’re looking for Professor Appleby,” Hunter blurted out before Peggy could stop her.

Kevin shook his head. “You’re way too late, babe. He took the plunge.”

“Didn’t you have him for botany last semester?” Hunter asked.

“Yeah, but—”

“We’ll look,” Hunter told Peggy. “Come on, Kevin. I’ll fill you in.”

“So much for keeping it a secret.” Peggy had been worried about Sam telling Holles. Now she’d told a man she didn’t even know.

“These things happen,” her father prophesied. “You need to learn to roll with the punches, little girl.”

Sam bumped into them with Holles in tow. Peggy watched Holles play with his glasses and smooth back his dark hair. She knew Sam had already told him about Darmus.

The two men were a perfect foil for each other. Sam, tall and golden, broad in the shoulders and chest. Holles, tall and slender, dark and sinewy. They were gorgeous together. More than one pair of eyes flashed in their direction, male and female.

“Hello, Dr. Lee.” Holles spoke loudly so he could be heard above the crowd and the music. He glanced at Sam, then said, “You have to let it go! Darmus is dead. You have to accept it. I know you had a hard time with Luther, but—”

“Holles.” She returned his lightweight clasp. His hand was cool and dry. “I understand this is hard to accept, but Darmus isn’t dead. And we have to find him.”

“I told him about Darmus,” Sam offered lamely. “I thought he could help look for him, too.”

“I guessed that.” Just what she needed: another unbeliever. “Look, if the two of you need to go, that would be fine.”

“We’ll help.” Sam whispered something to Holles, who shrugged and started back into the crowd.

Peggy and her father found their way to a clearing by the back door. She climbed up on a crate to be able to see over the crowd. There were so many people, but none of them looked like Darmus. A seventy-something black man, probably in a suit and tie, shouldn’t be that hard to find in this crowd. How could he ever expect to blend in here?

Her father shook his head. “There are plenty of black men here, but none who look over thirty.”