Poisoned Petals

“Think of it as letting sand run through a sieve,” Peggy said. “It will sort the particles by size.”

“Then we transfer the pattern to a nylon sheet.” Merton looked over Mai’s shoulder. “My name is spelled with an ‘e’ not an ‘o’. It’s not Morton.”

“Oh, sorry.” She scribbled through his name and held her notebook a little higher.

Merton squinted at her. “You’re a very pretty girl for a scientist.”

“Thanks.”

“All right.” Merton got up from his chair. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we? I’ll use radioactive probes with the material on the nylon sheet and then expose X-ray film to the sheet. Bands should occur at the probe sites in a unique pattern. If the pattern is the same, your cottonseeds are from the same plant. If not, you’ll have to start over.”

“When will you know?” Ramsey asked.

“Shouldn’t take too long. I’ll give you a call in the morning.” Merton’s eyes raked him from head to toe. “You should work on your style, man. No reason a scientist can’t be a snappy dresser. Like me!”

They all looked at Merton’s blue pajamas with brown puppies on them. He was wearing brown puppy slippers on his feet. His iron gray hair stood up on his head like he’d just seen a ghost.

Ramsey opened his mouth to speak, but Peggy dragged him away before he had the chance. “Think of the sample,” she whispered. “This might be the only way we’re going to find out about the seeds.”

Ramsey tugged on his jacket and walked out of the house with his head held high until he connected with a low-hanging water pipe.

“Oh!” Merton groaned. “That had to hurt!”

Mai rushed to the ME’s assistance.

“Thanks, Merton.” Peggy yawned. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“You got it! Have him put some dry ice on that bump.”

Peggy shuddered.

“What? That’s what I always do.” Merton showed her his bumpless forehead. “Works every time.”

By the time they got back to the lab, Peggy was exhausted. She said her good nights and drove home, not looking forward to facing the questions that were sure to come her way. It had been a long day full of unpleasant surprises. All she wanted to do was crawl in her bed and not get up again until morning.

But that wasn’t destined to happen. Sam was waiting for her in the drive when she got home.

“What’s wrong?” She immediately assumed something was wrong at the Potting Shed. “What happened? I’m sorry I haven’t called you back yet, but you didn’t need to come over.”

“Actually what I had to say I wanted to say in person.” He dug his hands deep into the pockets of his pants.

He was dressed in a suit and tie for once. Looking at him more closely, she realized he had tied his blond hair back in a queue. His handsome face was worried and angry. “What happened, Sam? Are you all right?”

“The police went through Holles’s apartment. They took him in for questioning at four this afternoon. He’s still there. No one will tell me anything about what’s happening or where he is. You have friends down there. Think you can find out for me?”

Peggy touched his hand. “I know what happened.” She told him about the cottonseeds. “If the seed on the hyacinth I found in Luther’s pocket matches the one they found on Holles’s shoe, I’m afraid they may put him in jail and release Darmus. I’m sorry, Sam.”

“No you’re not.” He jerked his hand from her. “You’ve been going after Holles from the first. You thought he killed Luther, and now you’re going to prove it.”

“Sam.” Her forehead furrowed. “I don’t want to hurt you, but Holles may have killed Luther. He was there pretty quickly when the police called after they found Luther in the garden. In comparison to where he lives . . .”

“He was close by,” Sam explained in a quiet voice. “He spent the night with me at my apartment. He didn’t leave until the police called to tell him about Luther.”

“Oh, Sam.”

“Peggy, we’ve been good friends, haven’t we? More than just that I work for you, right?”

“Of course!”

“Then why wouldn’t you leave it alone when I first asked you? Do you realize what I’ll have to do now? I’ll have to go in and tell the police Holles and I spent the night together. When that hits the newspaper, my parents are going to know I’m gay.”

“Maybe you could say something else.” She tried to help with his dilemma. She didn’t like where this conversation was going or the muted, angry tone of Sam’s voice. “You could say he was helping you on a job. Or at the Potting Shed.”

“And the police won’t investigate that?” Sam shook his head. “You’ve ruined it all, Peggy.”

“Sam.” She sighed, hating to sound tired and impatient, but she was tired and impatient. “Your parents should have known this years ago. I think you’ll find they at least suspected. I’m sure you’ve overdramatizing this.”

“That’s not the same as having your son’s perversion spread out on TV and in the newspaper for your friends and neighbors to see.”

“You’re not a pervert!”