Poisoned Petals

there at all. She bent down and picked it up, turning it over in her hand.

“What is that?” her father asked.

“A cottonseed.” She showed him. “How about that?”

SAM WAS AT HER HOUSE for dinner that night. Steve and her father were cooking. Peggy introduced Naomi, Luther’s assistant, to everyone and showed her to a room to get settled in.

As Peggy set the dining room table with her good china, she tried to think about some way she could talk to Sam about Holles without drawing immediate fire from him. It seemed unlikely.

“Let me help you with that, Margaret.” Her mother took the silverware from the red velvet-lined drawer in the china cabinet. “I see you’re still using Grandma’s silver. That’s nice. She’d like that.”

“I hope you had a good time shopping today,” Peggy said.

“It was great! But you know, I like that Mills Mall better than SouthPark. I guess I’m just cheap, but I’d rather pay outlet prices.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Did your father talk to you?”

“Hmm?” Peggy surfaced from her thoughts about Sam. “Of course.”

“Good.” She nodded. “I thought that might be why you’re so pensive.”

Peggy tried to follow the train of thought that led them here but wasn’t sure what her mother was talking about. “Dad and I talk all the time.”

“I don’t mean that kind of talk.” Her mother glanced back toward the kitchen where male laughter mingled with the sound of sizzling food. “Your father has something important to tell you, Margaret.”

Peggy prepared herself. This was it. Her mother was going to ask her to move down to Charleston. She might as well get it over with. “Why don’t you just tell me, Mom?”

“Because it’s not my place to tell you. It’s your father’s story.”

“What’s wrong? When did something Dad has to say become ‘his’ story?”

“I have some wine straight from Biltmore House.” Her father joined them, holding up the bottle as he came in the room. “Chardonnay sur Lies 1974. Sounds like a good year.”

Peggy’s mother started out the door, but her plan to leave the two alone was foiled when Aunt Mayfield popped her head around the door. “Lilla, is dinner almost ready?”

“Almost.” Peggy’s mother tried to get her back out of the room.

But at that moment, the doorbell rang, and Paul brought bread into the dining room. “The rest of the food is on the way!”

The moment had not only passed, it had been trampled. Lilla sighed.

Thinking the worst, Peggy went to answer the front door. It was a messenger with a wonderful planter full of forget-me-nots. The blue flowers spilled over the sides and lay gracefully on the edges. “Thank you! Let me get my pocketbook.”

“Not necessary.” The young man held up his hand. “He took care of it. G’night.”

Peggy knew who they were from. Nightflyer was reminding her of their appointment at Myers Park that night. There was no card. There didn’t need to be.

“Nice flowers,” Steve commented as he walked out of the dining room. “Are they from Nightflyer?”

13

Cotton

Botanical: Gossypium

Family: Malvaceae

The cotton plant is actually a tree. The bolls that produce fluffy white material that can be made into cloth have been prized for centuries. It is still grown as a cash crop in many countries. The introduction of the boll weevil almost destroyed cotton production in the United States until radical procedures were introduced to prevent infestation.

PEGGY DIDN’T WANT TO LIE to him, but she didn’t want to play twenty angry questions, either. Her relationship with Nightflyer was one of the only things she and Steve couldn’t find a middle ground to stand on. She was going to meet Nightflyer tonight, no matter what. She didn’t want to break up with Steve over it. “They’re from a customer. She was very happy with the job we did on her pond last week.”

“Really? Forget-me-nots, right?”

“Yes. You learn quickly.” She put the pot of flowers down on the foyer table. “Are we ready to eat?”

“Yes.” He put his arms around her. “Be careful, Peggy. I’m worried about you and your dad snooping around this thing with Darmus and Luther.”