He straightened his shoulders. “Yes. I’m not ashamed of it. I’ve worked hard to be in this position.”
“When the Council of Churches learns of this deception, they won’t find you so attractive to head a charity group.”
“We don’t have to tell them.”
“We have to tell the police.”
“We can’t tell the police! It’s not just me. It’s Darmus.”
“We don’t have any choice. We have to tell them. They can help us find Darmus.”
“He doesn’t
“I can’t help that.” She bit her lip. “Whether he likes it or not, he’ll have to be visible long enough to tell everyone what happened. He’s not a coward. He can disappear again if he wants to.”
He nodded, his face resigned. “It might take some time.”
“The service is today. We’re out of time. We can’t let this poor man be buried with Darmus’s name.”
“Haven’t you ever done anything you wished you could take back?” Holles asked as she turned to leave.
“I have.” She held her chin high. “And I haven’t always been able to make things right. But this is different. We can give this man a
“All right. You’ve made your point.”
“Good. Call me if you think of any way to contact Darmus.”
“I will.”
“And Holles, just for my own satisfaction, how much money was the donation to Feed America that everyone is talking about?”
His blue eyes didn’t falter from her face. “Ten million dollars.”
“Oh my God!”
“But Luther didn’t want the group for the money,” he continued quickly. “Neither do I. It’s the opportunity to do real good.”
Peggy hoped she looked as skeptical as she felt. “Whatever, Holles. I don’t care what anyone’s motivation was for this. Contact Darmus if you can. Tell him I
She walked out of the house and picked up the water hose she found on the sidewalk. A man on a lawnmower stared as she thoroughly watered the pots of daisies.
As she watered the plants, she thought about how Darmus needed help. She didn’t know why he fell apart. But concocting this wild scheme showed her he was troubled and had managed to keep it a secret. She feared Luther and Holles were another story. Possibly they were just involved in the plot for their own personal gain.
When the daisies were soaked, Peggy got in her truck and glanced at her watch. There were only a few hours until the memorial service. She was going to have to do
Peggy dialed Al’s cell phone number again and got his voice mail. Again. “Where are you, Al?” she asked the phone.
She didn’t want to go home and face her parents and Steve right now. She couldn’t act like everything was all right or put up with their teasing about her secret stunts. So she drove to the Potting Shed. The day was warm and breezy. Inside the store she took stock of everything, moving like a furious tornado through the back storage area.
They were going to need more lime and one or two more garden trunks. The trunks were reproductions of antique steamer trunks made out of updated materials that could withstand sun and hot, humid weather. They held garden tools and other miscellaneous outdoor items. Their look was unique. It was as good for poolside as in the garden. And as Peggy was fond of saying, put a nice cushion on top and you had another seat.
Peggy only had room in the shop for a few larger furniture items. She sold them from companies who didn’t require her to keep stock. They drop-shipped them to her customers so the furniture didn’t take over the flowers and potting soil that were also necessary.
She saw that Sam and Keeley finished the Folger job. Sam had left her a note and the signed credit card receipt for the job.
Peggy laughed. Mrs. Folger was a good customer, but she tended to be a little melodramatic. The Potting Shed was spotless. There was nothing else she could do inside, but she still didn’t have the answers she was looking for. She grabbed up her gloves, some potting soil, and a spade and headed out into the courtyard to repot some plants.
Steve found her in the courtyard about two hours later. Her bare hands were in the good black soil she’d just put into the huge concrete urn, one of ten that graced Brevard Court.
“Hi.” He sat on the bench beside her.
“Hi.”
