Hibiscus

Botanical: H. rosa-sinensis
Family: Malvaceae
Common Names: Queen of Tropical Flowers

Hibiscus is native to Asia and the Pacific Islands. It signifies peace and happiness. The red hibiscus is worn behind the ear by women of the Pacific Islands. If she wears it behind the left ear, she is desirous of a lover. Behind the right ear, she is already spoken for. But if she wears a flower behind each ear she has a lover but would like another.

  

CHAPTER FIVE           

Peggy made scrambled eggs and toast for dinner. She apologized to Steve for not realizing her cupboard was bare. “I only shop when there’s no food in the house.”

“Yeah, me too. Don’t worry about it. This is great. What kind of herbs are in the eggs?”

“These are green scallions that I grow myself. They’re a little sweeter than the ordinary ones. I’m glad you like them.” She poured them both another cup of orange spice tea.

He sat back in his chair. “I like your house too.”

“It was built in the 1920’s. It belonged to my husband’s family. He was a direct descendent of Robert E. Lee.” She took a sip of her tea and smiled. “Of course, since you aren’t from the south, that doesn’t mean anything to you.”

“That’s not true. I’m very impressed. I grew up in Cleveland, but I came down here over the summer every year. My uncle and my mother were the only ones left of their family. They were pretty tight. Now both of them are gone. I always loved his house and this neighborhood. So when he died, I moved my practice down here.”

“How is it you and your uncle both had the same last name?” She turned her back and took out two strawberry tarts she bought last week at Harris Teeter. They smelled all right. No mold spots. Praying they weren’t stale, she gave one to Steve on a napkin.

“Thanks.” He put the tart on his plate. “My mother never married. I never knew my father. I don’t know why she moved to Cleveland instead of staying here where her family was. But that’s my life story.”

She smiled as she tasted the tart. It wasn’t too bad. “I’m sure there’s more to it.”

“I suppose. Let me see. I’m forty-five years old. I have all my own teeth and hair. I graduated somewhere in the middle of my class at the University of Ohio. I’ve never been married. I can’t tell you exactly how much money I make because only my accountant knows that. I’m afraid to ask.”

“You’re very honest.”

“And obnoxiously absolute.” He saluted her with the tart then ate it. “Pretty good. What about you?”

Peggy didn’t want to go there. “You know, I want to pay you for your work with the dog. More than just some scrambled eggs.”

 “Okay. I’ll have my accountant send you a bill. Are we going to talk about the dog every time it starts getting personal?”

She had a good mind to ask him to leave. He was smart mouthed and intrusive. Instead, she stirred a little more sugar into her already sweet tea. “I was married for thirty years. He was killed two years ago. I guess I’m used to people knowing everything about me. I don’t like to dredge up the past.”

“Fair enough. We won’t dredge. How about showing me around your beautiful home?”

She took him on a quick tour. Now that they’d eaten, she was nervous. He made her uncomfortably aware of herself. What did he want from her anyway? She was seven years older than him. He had to realize it. Part of her wished he’d leave and she’d never see him again. The other part of her wanted so much more.

Most of the twenty-five rooms in the house weren’t being used. She pointed out her bedroom, glad the door was closed, then hustled him down the main staircase. “I have my laboratory in the basement.”

“Like Frankenstein?”

She laughed. “I suppose so.”

“Would we have to start talking about the dog again if I ask to see it?”

“No. I take people down there all the time.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Yes. But do they ever come back?”

She couldn’t resist spending a few more minutes with him. He was as enthusiastic about her plants as she could’ve wanted him to be. He asked questions and paid attention even when she described her work as “natural selection or genetic modification that remains within the natural bounds of cross pollination.”

She realized she was rambling beyond what a layman could grasp and started talking about her night blooming rose. She showed him the water lily, pleased when he bent his head and smelled it. Even more so when his tie dangled in the water and he didn’t make a fuss. The lights gleamed on his dark hair.

“You know, I was surprised to see you here.” She tried to make normal conversation, worried he’d think she was all compost and hybridization. “How did you know where I live?”

“It wasn’t too hard.” He looked at a big red hibiscus. “I knew your name. You’re listed in the phone book, address and all. Why? Did you think I was secretly an FBI agent?”

“No. Of course not! Just wondering. I’m incurably suspicious.”

“You probably should be.” He smiled at her in a way that made her skin tingle. “You live alone. Someone could take advantage of you.”

Peggy led the way back upstairs to the foyer. Steve marveled again at the size of the tree. “You do decorate it for Christmas, don’t you?”

“I have in the past,” she answered. “Not the last two years since . . .”

“Your husband died?” he guessed.

“Yes.” She lifted her head. He might as well know the worst of it. “I didn’t want to do it without him.”

“I think that’s understandable.” He nodded as he walked around the tree again. “But if you decide to do it this year, I’ll be glad to give you a hand.”

“Thanks.” She hesitated, wanting to ask him to stay for more tea. Feeling she should let him leave right away. More confused than she’d been since she was a teenager. “Can I ask when I can pick up the dog without you making a big deal out of it?”

“Of course.” He slipped his arms into his jacket. “I wanted to keep him overnight to be sure he was okay. But you can pick him up tomorrow. Or I can bring him by.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to do that. I’ll pick him up. Thanks.”

“That’s fine. I’ll try to have your bill ready. Or you could make me dinner again.”

Peggy picked a spot on the wall and stared across his shoulder. It helped not to look into his gorgeous eyes. Why did she think he was so ordinary? “I think I should pay you. You are a professional. And you’re in business to make money.”

He took a step closer to her. “I’m also a man who’d like to spend more time with you, Peggy. If we can get past talking about the dog. Or not. Either way, I’d like to see you again.”

She could hardly breathe. Her voice squeaked when she replied, “I’d like that too.”

“Great. We’ll work with that.” He put his hand on her arm and lightly kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, Peggy.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

She rested her head against the door after it closed behind him. She was as light headed and weak-kneed as she’d been when she found Mark Warner’s body. “I guess that says it all!”

Her answer was to bury herself in her work. The phone rang while she was grafting some of her water lily to her rose, humming Til there was You from The Music Man. Not wanting to put it down, she let the machine get it. It was Paul. She hastily set the sample down and grabbed the phone.

“Mom? Are you all right? You sound kind of breathless. Have you been running?”

“Just to answer the phone. I was in the middle of an experiment.”

“I’m calling because Clarice Weldon tracked me down. She said there was a strange man going into the house with you and she was worried. She thought I should know.”

Peggy took a deep breath and said a little prayer for patience. “I appreciate the phone call. But you know Clarice! She wasn’t really worried, just nosy.”

“Who was he?”

“Are you nosy too?”

“Mrs. Weldon was looking out for you. I asked her to keep an eye on things since I can’t be over there as much as I’d like. You’re not exactly a teenager anymore, Mom. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Don’t worry about it, Paul. I’m fine. The man Clarice saw is a veterinarian. He’s taking care of my dog.”

“When did you get a dog? You don’t even like dogs!”

Peggy didn’t want to answer that question. She didn’t even know the answer. A timer went off behind her. It seemed like a good excuse. “Gotta go, sweetie! Call me and we’ll have lunch without Clarice!”

Paul complained but finally said goodbye.

Peggy hung up and went back to work. She thought about her son for a long time, wondering how she could mend their relationship. He didn’t think she understood about his need to find John’s killer. But she empathized all too well. She just didn’t want to lose Paul too.

#

By midnight, her back was killing her from leaning over the pond. Exhausted, but satisfied with the progress of her project, she dragged herself upstairs to shower and change. A thin trail of water and dirt followed her up the wide marble stairs. She pretended not to notice. It would still be there tomorrow for her to clean.

Afterwards, she sat down in front of her computer monitor for a game of chess. She’d been playing online with various people from around the world for about a year. She never knew their real names, only the names they logged on with. It was exciting to play masters of the game, pitting her skill against people she wouldn’t have met except for the Internet.

Tonight, she was playing against a new opponent. His screen name was Nightflyer. She was white and took the first move. Pawn to f4

 “Good evening, Nightrose.”

She read the words in the chat box and responded to her screen name, “Hi there.”

Black pawn slid to e5.  “You’re taking some time out to relax tonight.”

Peggy studied her next move. “I try to be here at least a few times a week.” She moved forward. White pawn takes black pawn on e5.

Black pawn moves to d6.

The game progressed. Peggy gave as good as she got. The two players were well matched.

“About that poisoning in Columbia . . .”

Nightrose’s white knight moves to f3. Peggy realized what was in the chat box after she made her move. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Black queen takes white pawn on g3 and checks white king. “The young woman succumbed about an hour ago.”

Peggy watched the black queen put her king in check. But she was too astounded by the chat to think about her next move. “How do you know about that? Are you Dr. Samson?” White pawn takes black queen on g3.

A smiley face appeared in the chat box. “Are you sure about that move?”

“Are you Dr. Samson?”

Black bishop takes white pawn on g3. “Checkmate. You’re not playing well tonight, dear.”

“Who are you? You’re not Dr. Samson.”

“You’re right. Care to try again?”

Before she could reply, the phone rang, startling her away from the computer.

It was Hal Samson. “I’m sorry to call so late, Peggy. But I thought you’d want to know. My patient died about an hour ago. The police are involved now. They believe the husband might be responsible for the poisoning.”

“Were you online playing chess a few minutes ago?” It sounded ridiculous but she had to know.

“No. I’ve been with the girl’s parents since it happened. I would’ve called you right away except for that. Why do you ask?”

Peggy looked at the computer screen. Nightflyer had left the game room. It couldn’t be a coincidence. “I’m sorry, Hal. Her chances of recovery were slim. I assume there’ll be an autopsy.”

“There will. I’ll be happy to send you the results, if you’re interested.”

“Thanks. Maybe we can learn something from her death.” She paused, reluctant to open the subject again, but she couldn’t help it. She had to know. “Was there anyone else involved with the case who knew you approached me about it?”

“No. I didn’t see any reason to tell anyone else. Why? Is something wrong?”

She told him what happened during her chess game. It seemed significant to her.

He didn’t think so. “It was probably someone who knows your screen name, Peggy. If they know you at all, they know you work with poisons. That’s not much of a coincidence to me.”

“You’re probably right,” she acknowledged. “I shouldn’t be up playing chess with strangers in the middle of the night anyway.”

“If you’re not sleeping, I could get you a prescription for that,” he offered. “Not getting enough sleep is bad for the nervous system.”

“Thanks anyway, Hal. I’ll be fine. I don’t envy you having to deal with people’s loved ones after such a tragic death. Please keep in touch.”

Peggy hung up the phone and logged back in for another chess game. There were several immediate answers to her challenge. But none of them were Nightflyer. She realized she’d never seen that name before.

Hal was probably right about turning off the computer and going to bed. But a cold chill slid down her spine and she stayed up for a few more hours. The event haunted her. She wouldn’t be satisfied until she knew who Nightflyer really was.

#

Peggy was at the Potting Shed the next morning when Mai called from the precinct. She wasn’t officially open on the weekend, but a few good customers needed to come in for supplies now and then. It gave her a chance to do some straightening up and check the inventory for Christmas. Unlike most retail establishments, her garden shop had to get through fall before plunging into the holidays. Seasons were important to gardeners.

“Peggy, I just found out!” Mai told her. “They picked up Mr. Cheever last night. They’re letting him sleep it off in a cell before they question him. But he had Mark Warner’s personal possessions. It doesn’t look good for him.”

“Thanks for letting me know. I wonder if I could see him.”

“I doubt it. We contacted his daughter in Rock Hill. She’s supposed to come in. They might let her see him, but you’re not a relative. Until they get everything settled, the police will be the only ones talking to him.”

“You mean until he’s charged with murder.” Peggy pursed her lips in frustration. “Does he have a lawyer?”

“Not until he asks for one. He hasn’t been formally charged. Maybe he has an alibi or something that can clear him.”

“Maybe. I hope so. Thanks for calling anyway. By the way, was the flower I gave you a match for the petal you found in Mark’s pocket?” Peggy could hear Mai shuffling through her papers.

“It was. We sent it off to Atlanta to be identified. We don’t have a botanist on staff.”

“It was a columbine. But I’m not on the payroll. You’ll have to do it the hard way. I’ll talk to you later.”

Peggy could hardly wait for the last customer to leave. She usually hung around the shop most of Saturday, encouraging customers to stay for tea and conversation. Sometimes she had lunch with a few good friends. Today, she had too much on her mind to appreciate her gardening paradise. She locked up at ten-thirty and rode her bike to the uptown precinct. She had to figure out a way to see Mr. Cheever.

The sergeant at the desk recognized her this time. He worked there when John was alive. Mai had been called away to a crime scene in south Charlotte, but Al was in his office. He sent Peggy back without bothering to call for permission.

Al was surprised to see her. “Peggy! What brings you down here?”

She sat in a chair by his desk. “I’d like to see Mr. Cheever. I heard you arrested him last night.”

“Word sure gets around.” He shook his head. “But you know better! You can’t see him. They brought him out of detox a little while ago. He’s a little disoriented but otherwise he’s okay. Unless you’re his lawyer, nobody sees him today but us.”

“You could arrange it for me. I really need to talk to him, Al. I feel responsible for him being a suspect in this case.”

“It’s not possible. Please don’t ask me.”

“Hogwash! You could make it possible.”

“The lieutenant would ream my butt. I can’t get you in there. You don’t realize all the heat we’re taking on this murder. This family has friends in important places. But there’s nothing for you to feel guilty about, Peggy. We would’ve heard about him one way or another. There’s nothing you can do for him now. Go home.”

She got to her feet. “You know I’ll find a way to see him.”

Al rubbed his eyes with his hands. “Go home before I lose my pension. Mary would do lots worse things to me than the lieutenant. You don’t scare me.”

Peggy was seething as she stormed out of the office. She passed the sergeant without speaking, pushing the sorry little ficus away from the door again. He stared at her but didn’t ask why she did it.

She didn’t have a lawyer who represented her interests. But she did have a friend who was a lawyer. She went to his house only to find he was playing golf.

She stalked him at the Myer’s Park Country Club. Park Lamonte flatly refused her request to represent Mr. Cheever. He had a plate full of pro bono work already taking up his time and the case was too high profile. Besides, he was friends with the Warners. It would represent a conflict for him.

“You wouldn’t really have to represent him,” she urged. “Just pretend you will so we can talk to him.”

Park looked at her like she was crazy. “That’s only breaking about half the rules I could be disbarred for. I can’t do it, Peggy. I’m sorry. You know I would if I could.”

“Could you recommend someone else? I’ll pay his fee. It doesn’t have to be pro bono.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and grinned. “If you’ve got the cash, Peg, any knee jerk attorney can take the case. Hell, a second year legal student could do the work. It won’t matter anyway. The man’s already tried, convicted and hanged in this town.”

She scowled at him when he kissed her cheek and invited her over for dinner one night. “I hope you’re never in a tight spot and someone says that about you!”

“I hope not too. Go home, Peg,” Park advised. “This is too big to beat. If this man is your friend, plan to visit him in prison. That’s the best you can do for him. Don’t waste your money. Let the state pay for an attorney.”

But she wasn’t going to let that happen. She didn’t know where to find an attorney on a Saturday. All the law offices she called were closed. She knew the court would appoint a lawyer for Mr. Cheever, but that wouldn’t solve her problem of getting in to see him.

Sam was waiting at her house. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for the last hour.”

“I’ve been trying to get a lawyer for Mr. Cheever. They picked him up last night. He had all of Mark’s stolen personal effects.” She rested her bike against the side of the house. “No one wants to take the case.”

Sam slapped his hand against his leg. “I guess that’s it then. It doesn’t matter who has their keys.”

“Why? Did you find someone with a key missing?”

“I’m not sure. Last night Keeley asked to borrow my key to get into the shop. She told me she left hers at home. Which may be true. I didn’t pursue it.”

“Why not?”

He scratched his head. “I have to work with her, Peggy. I got this far. Maybe you could go the rest of the way.”

“I’ll talk to her. First, I have to find a lawyer desperate enough to take this case.” She started toward the front door.

“If you’re looking for desperate, I think I can help with that. My sister, Hunter, is a criminal lawyer. She had a falling out with one of the partners in the law firm that hired her when she got out of school. Now she’s trying to make it on her own.”

“What kind of falling out?”

“The senior partner hit on her and she broke his arm. She’s a black belt.”

Peggy laughed. “Sounds like my kind of woman. Could you give her a call?”

#

An hour later, Sam and Peggy met Hunter Ollson at the Mecklenburg County jail. Peggy rode over with Sam in the Potting Shed pick-up. They had to circle for ten minutes before they could find a parking place.

“Peggy, this is my sister, Hunter.”

“Nice to meet you.” Hunter put out her hand and shook Peggy’s with enthusiasm. “I appreciate the opportunity to represent your friend. I’ve been following the case and I made a few calls on the way over here.”

“I’m impressed. Is everyone in your family a go-getter?” Peggy looked at the two siblings. They were both specimens of good Nordic genetics. Hunter was as blond, tall and muscular as her brother. There was a no-nonsense look in her fierce blue eyes that made Peggy glad she was on her side.

“As I understand it,” Hunter continued, “you want to be my legal assistant. You want to talk to your friend, right?”

“Yes. I need to understand what happened. He may even know who committed the murder. I’m sure he’s innocent.”

“That’s fine. We’re not breaking any laws, just bending a few. Take this.” Hunter handed her a heavy briefcase. “I like my coffee black, no sugar.”

Peggy wasn’t sure what she was getting into. It seemed unlikely she’d have the time to fetch coffee for Hunter. Maybe she didn’t explain the situation well enough. Whatever, she didn’t want to argue about it while they were standing on the steps.

Sam leaned his head close to hers. “She’s kidding, Peggy.”

“Thanks. Good sense of humor too.”

Hunter said goodbye to her brother then dashed up the stairs, leaving Peggy to trail behind her. She barked out requests as she walked. Peggy scrambled to find some paper and write them down.

When they reached the front desk, Hunter produced her credentials, told the officer on duty she’d been hired to represent Mr. Cheever and demanded to see her client at once.

Peggy was impressed and uncertain about her attitude. She half expected the officer to turn them down. But he nodded and buzzed them through the side door. They passed through another weapons search then walked down the dismal gray hall to the visiting area.

“You’re doing fine,” Hunter confided to Peggy. “I hope I wasn’t too hard on you. They expect lawyers to talk to paralegals like that.”

“I think I can handle it.” Peggy replied. “I should’ve asked about your fee for representing Mr. Cheever.”

Hunter smiled, showing dazzling, perfect white teeth. “Don’t worry about it. I’m still living at home with my parents. I’d do almost anything for a thousand dollars. Besides, this case could bring me the notoriety I need to pull in the rich basketball players who need legal assistance.”

They were escorted to a small room. A brown plastic table and several chairs were pushed together in the middle of it. Mr. Cheever was brought in as they sat down.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” a burly deputy told them as he left, locking the door behind him.

“Do your thing. Keep it down though. Uncle Sam is watching.” Hunter nodded at the camera in the corner.

Peggy took Mr. Cheever’s hands in hers. “Do you know who I am?”

The dull brown eyes squinted at her. “I’m not real sure. Are you Jane?”

“I’m Peggy Lee from the Potting Shed. Who’s Jane?”

“My daughter. They said she was coming to see me.”

“She’ll probably be here later. I brought you a lawyer who’s going to defend you. You have to tell her everything you saw the night Mark Warner was killed.”

“Who? I didn’t see anyone killed.”

“I’m Hunter Ollson, Mr. Cheever. Do you understand why the police brought you in?”

“They said I took something.”

“That’s right. You took some things from a man in Peggy’s shop. Do you remember that?”

He nodded, gazing into the distance like he was trying to remember. “He was lying on the floor.”

Peggy squeezed his hand. “Yes! He was on the floor. How did you get into the shop?”

“The door was open. I walked in. He was asleep. He didn’t need his shoes or that other stuff. It was cold. I couldn’t find my shoes.”

“But he was already dead when you got there,” Hunter clarified. “That makes you guilty of robbery, but not murder. That plus diminished capacity should get you off, no problem.”

“He’s not at his best right now,” Peggy told her. “He’s usually quoting Shakespeare and singing arias from Madame Butterfly. I don’t know why he’s like this, but maybe you should ask to have a doctor see him.”

“Okay. The important thing is that he’s innocent.”

Peggy got Mr. Cheever’s attention again. “Do you remember seeing anyone else at the shop the night Mark Warner was killed?”

“That woman.”

“What woman? What did she look like?”

“She ran out. I heard them yelling. I saw the door open and went inside. He was on the floor.”

“Did you see her face?” Peggy asked him.

Mr. Cheever stared at the wall behind her. “I’m hungry. Can I get something to eat? Where’s Jane?”

Hunter took Peggy aside. “I think we should have a doctor see him before he says anything else. If he’s been injured or he’s sick, it would be better to have it documented. We don’t seem to be getting through to him right now. Let me see what’s going on, when they plan to arraign him or whatever. I don’t know if he’s even been charged yet.”

Peggy agreed. She hated to leave him there, but she got what she came for. He couldn’t possibly lie in his condition. He was barely able to put two sentences together. He went into the shop because the door was open. Mark was already dead.

She sat back down with him while Hunter made the arrangements and found out what was happening. Peggy tried to talk to him again but he was rambling about food and his daughter. Most of what he said didn’t make any sense.

When Hunter returned, the deputy took Mr. Cheever back to his cell.

“He’s very hungry,” Peggy told the deputy. “Could he have something to eat?”

“Sure. We’ll get him something.”

Hunter waited until they were alone then took Peggy’s arm and bent her head close as they stood in the hall. “The DA has already formally charged him with first degree murder and robbery. He’ll be arraigned this afternoon. They’re going to take him to have some tests done. We’ll see what happens.”

“Can you be there with him at the arraignment?”

“Of course. And I’ll be entering a not-guilty plea, although we may have to consider diminished capacity if something’s happened to him.”

They walked out of the visiting area directly into Al and Jonas. Peggy ducked her head but it was too late.

“What in blazes are you doing here?” Jonas’ nasal northern accent filled the entryway.

Peggy started to speak but Hunter inserted herself between her new friend and the irate police officer. “She’s my temporary legal assistant. I’m representing Joseph Cheever. If you have any legal questions, please address them to me.”

Al shook his head and purposely didn’t look at Peggy. Jonas glared at all of them then marched into the visiting area.

“I guess that settles it then.” Peggy waved to Al. “See you later.”

“Peggy . . .” Al started but it was too late. Peggy and Hunter were walking out the front door.

“What’s going on with her?” Jonas demanded.

“I honestly don’t know. I’ll talk to her.” Al knew from past experience that nothing he said would make any difference but he would definitely talk to her.

Peggy and Hunter congratulated each other when they reached the steps. They both hugged Sam, leaving him with a confused look on his face.

“I’m staying here for a while.” Hunter took her briefcase from Peggy. “The assistant DA is on his way. I need to know what they have on Mr. Cheever.”

“Thanks for your help,” Peggy replied. “Please keep me in the loop.”

“Does this mean we’re still trying to find out who killed Mark Warner?” Sam asked her.

“Yes it does.” Peggy told him about the interview as they drove back to her house. “I was right. They may want to blame this on Mr. Cheever, but he didn’t do it. From what he told me, the killer may be a woman.” She went on to tell him about Ronda McGee and her floral purchase. “She looks pretty strong. I think she could’ve done the job.”

“But what would her motive be?” Sam considered the matter seriously as he negotiated the afternoon traffic. “Unless maybe Warner was refusing to leave his wife for her.”

“I don’t know yet. Why does any human take the life of another?”

“You’re not going all philosophical on me, are you? I get a lot of that at school, you know.”

“It’s a valid question,” Peggy argued. “People kill people for many different reasons. Ronda may have a motive we can’t begin to understand.”

Sam turned into her driveway. “Looks like you have company.”

A Charlotte-Mecklenburg squad car was parked behind a green Saturn. Peggy groaned. “Oh no.”