while she talked. “They should know what it does, right? If not, you could tell them.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
“And why are you talking to me instead of Darmus’s lawyer?”
“The Council of Churches owns his lawyer. I don’t know if he’ll do what’s best for Darmus or for the churches.”
“I suppose that’s true. He should’ve hired me. I haven’t had a decent case since—”
“Something doesn’t make any sense,” Peggy interrupted her. “Darmus is drugged, decides to pretend to kill himself. Luther helps him with that poor man’s body they found in the house.”
“Money is missing from Feed America,” her father continued. “At least one person wants Darmus’s position. But Luther is dead. And everything points toward Holles.”
“Holles?” Hunter frowned. “There can’t be more than one person with that name! Sam’s friend?”
“Yes.” Peggy explained what she knew about him.
“So you think he killed Luther and drugged Darmus?” Hunter put a rosebush in the hole Peggy’s father dug for it.
“But why would Darmus turn himself in to the police again?” Denise asked as she put mulch around the plant and watered it. “Surely he didn’t do it to protect Holles?”
“No.” Peggy’s habit of thinking out loud had put another person in the loop. “But Darmus might have done it to protect his new family from a trial.”
Hunter snorted. “It’s better to be guilty than to defend yourself?”
Peggy stopped digging and looked at her. “It might be if something could come out at that trial that would be embarrassing for them.”
“Like what?” Hunter debated.
“I’m not sure,” Peggy answered. “I’ll have to ask Darmus.”
“Good luck trying to see him.”
“I know.”
Denise shaded her eyes against the midday sun and looked down her driveway. “Looks like we have company.”
It was Steve. He came up the hill toward them. Peggy felt her face go red despite the floppy hat and sunscreen she wore. But it had nothing to do with heat and everything to do with the new passion she saw in his eyes when he smiled at her.
“How are things going?” he asked everyone, but his gaze was on her.
“Fine,” her father told him. “We’ve made good progress.”
“Maybe I can help. I have a few hours before my next appointment.”
With Steve’s help, the task went even faster. The magnolia tree was in the ground, despite some hard shale they encountered. All but three of the roses were planted, and there was only one gardenia left to plant.
Peggy warned Denise that the angel’s trumpet they’d planted was sensitive to chilly weather. “It would be better to cover it until you’re sure it won’t get too cold at night.”
Denise nodded, looking for a place to put the mother and child statue. She looked up when Sam’s truck parked on the street. “You have a lot of friends, Peggy! No wonder your shop is so popular.”
Peggy waved to Sam and Keeley. They came up the hill slowly, their clothes already dirty. Keeley had a big streak of dirt across her nose.
“I guess you don’t need our help.” Sam surveyed the scene. “I should have known you’d find some way to get it done just to prove me wrong.”
“That’s not true. But it was sweet of you to come,” she replied. “I think the garden is going to turn out okay.”
“I think so, too.” He put his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Look, Peggy, I’m sorry for acting the way I did about this. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Don’t go there, Sam.” Steve dug another rosebush hole.
“I know.” Sam smiled and shook his head. “I promise to try not to do it again.”
“Nice wording,” Hunter said. “You could still be a lawyer.”
“No thanks.” He looked at the plants that were still out of the ground. “Let’s wrap this up, huh? I have plans for tonight”
“With Holles?” Hunter asked.
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Peggy, you should tell him.”
“Tell me what?” Sam picked up a shovel.
“Your friend might be a killer,” Ranson said. “You should know.”
“That’s stupid.” Sam glanced at Peggy. “This has your fingers all over it.”
