“MaggieMoo’s. All right.” Peggy glanced at her watch. She had enough time to do that and then go to the Potting Shed to close up for the night. Darmus was getting lost in the shuffle of events that were making up the pattern of
MaggieMoo’s ice cream parlor was crowded, like usual. Peggy had to insist they get their milkshakes to go so she could drive them home. Although she’d promised Selena she’d be there by five, she was already running late. Honestly, she didn’t know why the poor girl put up with her abuse, bless her heart!
Her mother and Aunt Mayfield were a little put out, but they drank their triple-thick shakes in the car without complaint. Peggy felt sure their silence was mostly due to the big straws in their mouths. They were too busy sucking to voice their grievances.
Peggy had to drop them off at the house without going in. As she turned to back out of the drive, she noticed stiff muscles in places she wasn’t used to having them. It was the white garden. She wasn’t used to digging, hoeing, and planting.
But now wasn’t the time to daydream, she reminded herself as she tried to maneuver down Providence Road in heavy Charlotte traffic. It was already ten after five. She deserved to have Selena quit on her for her carelessness. She didn’t know what had happened to her. She was always on time when John was alive. But maybe that was because of John and not her. Funny how the lines between people could get blurred after spending so many years together.
She finally reached Brevard Court and parked her truck behind the Potting Shed. As she started to run inside, she realized her legs were refusing to oblige. Grimacing, she walked slowly up the back stairs, with all of her poor abused body complaining it needed a nice, long, hot bath if she wanted to keep going at her usual frantic pace.
Selena was sitting behind the counter, getting receipts together and patiently checking out stock lists to be sure they matched what she’d sold that day.
“I’m so sorry,” Peggy said, putting down her pocketbook. “Time got away from me.”
“It’s okay.” Selena sighed. “You’re so lucky to have a life. I wish I had one.”
Peggy realized she was in for one of Selena’s sulks. But she figured she deserved it. She’d left her alone all day. “What’s wrong?”
Selena sighed again. “People love you, Peggy. They do things for you. No one loves me. No one does anything for me. They barely know I exist.”
“I think you need a night out with some friends.” Peggy shooed her out from behind the counter. “Put your sandals on and call a few girlfriends. I want to treat you for all the extra things you’ve done for me lately.”
Selena paused in mid-sulk. “Really?”
“Really.” Peggy took out her wallet and gave Selena a handful of bills. “Will this be enough?”
“I’ll say!” Selena’s eyes got big as she accepted the cash. “Thank you, Peggy! You’re the best.”
Peggy hugged her. “No, sweetie. You are! Go out and have a good time. Thanks for all the extra hours you’ve done.”
“Not a prob! Bye. See you later.” Selena left with her cell phone pressed against her ear.
When she was gone, Peggy straightened up the store and counted the day’s receipts. She locked up and turned off the lights. Then she sat down in the rocking chair and considered everything that had happened. She would only get one chance to talk to Darmus in jail. She had to make the most of it.
But what were the right questions to ask? Unless Darmus was out of his head again, he turned himself in for some good reason. He was a logical man, but he could be stubborn in his beliefs. If he truly believed there was a good reason for telling the police he was guilty, he’d do it. But what was his motive? What was more important to him than his freedom?
15
Orchid
IN THE MORNING, Peggy dressed in a drab-colored suit and went to meet Denise Turnbrell,
Denise had called to tell Peggy she had a pass for her to get into the county jail. She met Peggy on the courthouse stairs, not looking like the same woman who’d wanted to plant a white garden for her mother. In her black suit with her brown/gray streaked hair pulled back in a tidy chignon, she looked elegant and aloof.
Denise hugged Peggy and smiled. “I hope this helps. Did you think of anything you might have missed?”
“I wish I had,” Peggy confessed. “But the ideas keep whirling around in my head. They don’t make much sense. I hope when I talk to Darmus, they will.”
“Good luck.” Denise glanced around them as though someone might be listening. “Keep me posted.”
“Thank you.” Peggy squeezed her hand. “I will.”
