Denise had turned out to be an unexpected ally. Peggy walked to the county jail, glancing at some orchids a man was selling on the street corner. They were in poor condition, probably because they didn’t like being out in the elements. Orchids were finicky plants. If it was too hot or too cold, too wet or too dry, they would start looking scrubby. These plants were way past scrubby. Yet a man in a brown business suit stopped to look at one.
“Excuse me, sir,” Peggy interrupted the transaction. “Those orchids will be lucky to live another day. They haven’t been well taken care of.”
“Who are you?” the seller asked with a sneer. “Plant police?”
“No,” she replied. “Just a concerned plant owner.”
“Go away!” The little man behind the orchid stand shooed her. “We don’t need you here.”
“Don’t worry.” The young man in the brown suit turned to smile at her. “I was only looking at them to say the same thing. How are you, Professor Lee?”
It was Fletcher Davis, a friend of Darmus’s from a radical ecological group. Peggy wasn’t sure if she was happy to see him or not. He was a little off the wall. “Hello, Fletcher. How are you?”
He held up his briefcase. “A changed man. I figured out I could better affect the policies of the government from the inside. I’m a lobbyist now. How’s Darmus? I haven’t talked to him since I was here last. I was going to go and see him, but I’m only in town for a few hours.”
Peggy shook her head. “He’s in a bad position, Fletcher.” She explained about the missing money and Luther’s death. “He confessed to killing him, but I know he’s not guilty.”
“No doubt.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, I don’t have a lot of time, but I might be able to shed some light on this for you. Would you like to have a cup of tea with me?”
Wondering what in the world Fletcher knew, Peggy followed him into a coffee shop where they both ordered chai tea and sat at a small table well away from the other patrons. The sun shone in through the tall, hazy window, glinting off the Hearst building tower.
“Darmus was approached by his ex-wife for money when I was last working with him here.” Fletcher stirred honey into his tea. “She said she needed it for their son. I never even knew he’d been married.”
Peggy was too surprised to drink her tea. “Did he give her money?”
“Yes. I don’t know where he got it, but I saw him give her a few thousand dollars. She counted it while we stood there like she was afraid he was shortchanging her.”
It had to be Rosie. Did Darmus take money from Feed America to give her? “When was that, Fletcher?”
“About three months ago, I guess. If Darmus took money from the group, it was for her.”
That would make sense. It was about three months ago that Darmus started acting strangely. If he knew about Rosie and Abekeni, she wouldn’t put anything past him. He was a passionate man. What he felt, he felt deeply.
But if Rosie had known about what was happening with Darmus, why the elaborate charade when she went to tell her? And why pretend to
What would Rosie gain by influencing Darmus to leave Feed America? If she was looking for cash, it was a bad move. And Holles was always destined to take over the group.
She immediately looked up at Fletcher. “Luther was the one who was supposed to take over Feed America. As close as Darmus was to Holles, he always had Luther in mind.”
“And now Luther’s dead.” Fletcher shrugged. “You’re the crime solver. I thought you should know.” He glanced at his watch again. “I have to go. Please tell Darmus I’m thinking about him. Good luck, Professor Lee.”
“Thank you,” she replied absently, lost in playing back everything that had happened to Darmus in the past few months. When she looked up again, Fletcher was gone. Peggy wasted no time in going to the jail and confronting Darmus.
The Mecklenburg County Jail was clean and modern. It smelled of antiseptic and a peculiar scent that she recalled from her previous visits. She thought of it as human beings closed in together for too long. A musty, animal smell.
It was a large bulk of a building that squatted in place, letting everyone know that once you got there, you weren’t leaving until it was time. It wasn’t gray and dismal like the North Carolina state prison in Raleigh. Instead it was more cold and aloof, like a bad hospital.
Peggy had visited the prison with other police wives years ago. She’d been in the county jail recently trying to help another friend. She’d been sure he was innocent, too, and she’d been right. She hoped it would end up the same way with Darmus. The process to get inside for a visit was more complicated now than it had been when she’d been there twenty years before. She showed her pass, and the guard waved her through after she stepped through the scanner and had her pocketbook X-rayed.
Last time she visited, she had sneaked in as Hunter’s paralegal, and that put her in a slightly better position. This time, she was directed to the general visitation area. There was no private place to sit and talk. A guard brought Darmus into the large room where several other people were already talking to their loved ones. Darmus shuffled in with his head low and no spark of life in his usually vibrant body, now housed in the orange jumpsuit.
Peggy picked up the phone as Darmus took his seat. She gestured to him, but he made no attempt to pick up the phone on his side of the Plexiglas partition.
He finally relented just long enough to tell her to go away.
She’d had more than enough people telling her
That brought him around. Hands shaking, face haggard, he stared at her as he picked up the phone. “Don’t say
