But Peggy firmly believed Park was already eating the poisoned honey before he came home. She had no way to prove it besides her own instincts. Those wouldn’t impress anyone. She had to have more. There had to be some way to prove the honey was poisoned before it came to Charlotte.
By the time Peggy reached Brevard Court, Selena was in the middle of a last-minute rush at the Potting Shed. It happened frequently just before the shop closed. Together, they managed to get the last ten customers out the door and lock up before anyone else could come in.
“Wow! They must’ve been waiting for the cold weather. It zapped them into buying supplies for spring.” Selena sat down hard in the rocking chair, one hand automatically stabilizing the snowman beside her.
“Sorry I was running late.” Peggy started cleaning out the cash register, getting the cash, checks, and credit card receipts ready to go to the bank. “I seem to be chronically late recently. I think I’m trying to do more than I can handle. Who knew the shop would pick up so much business so quickly?”
“You could make this your last semester at Queens,” Selena suggested. “You’re only part time there anyway. I think there’s plenty to do here now. The shop could use a full-time owner.”
“That’s never been the problem,” Peggy said. “I guess I’m just afraid to give up my professorship again. I’m not a spring chicken, in case you haven’t noticed. They may not take me back if I need the money again.”
“That’s true, I suppose.” Selena laughed. “Except the chicken part. If anyone is a spring chicken, it must be you.”
Peggy sighed. “No matter what, I’m under contract until June 1 with Queens. I guess I’ll see how it’s going by then. I may have to make a leap of faith.”
Selena got up and stretched her long, thin body. “Just be careful Shakespeare doesn’t make that a nudge of faith that knocks you down the stairs.” She glanced up and saw Steve at the door. “Hey there! I think I should be going. I’d offer to stay and help, but I’m going to study with some friends. Trying to get those grades up, you know.”
“You’ve done plenty anyway. I can never really pay you what you’ve been worth to me. Without you and Sam and Keeley, I wouldn’t have been able to keep up with everything.”
“You’re right.” Selena picked up her jacket and book bag. “You definitely owe me dinner at the Capital Grill. Bye, Steve. Nice talking to you!”
“Bye, Selena.” Steve stood aside and held the door as she left. He smiled at Peggy. “I haven’t talked to you all day. I thought we could have dinner.”
“That would be wonderful,” she replied, closing her bank bag. “But I have an hour cleanup and stocking here.” She consulted the delivery log. “And it looks like I might have a delivery.”
“Anthony does food to go. If he won’t deliver, I think I can manage to go over and get it.”
Her eyes lit up with his offer. Was there another man who was willing to be as flexible as Steve? “Thank you. I’m thinking about giving up my classes at Queens at the end of the year. Maybe that would keep things like this from happening.”
He hugged her and kissed her lips. “I have this feeling your life has always been hectic and always will be. Maybe you just never noticed before.”
“So you don’t think I can simplify?”
“I think anything is possible. But I don’t care either. I like your hectic life. I enjoy being part of it. Even when I’m burning my clothes after following you through mountains of garbage. So, on that note, what do you want to eat?”
While Steve went next door to the Caribbean Café, Peggy began straightening up the shop. There were always tulip bulbs mixed in with the jonquils and vermiculite with the fertilizer. People browsed, picked things up, and put them back down wherever they were in the shop.
She enjoyed walking through the aisles, the feeling of the worn wood floor under her feet. The old boiler kicked on, steam heat hissing through the vents. It reminded her that she was going to have to tackle the issue of having her furnace replaced at the house. That might help her make the decision about giving up her classes. If she had to purchase the furnace herself, she’d be teaching at Queens for another ten years!
The phone rang several times after she dialed Dalton Lee’s phone number. She wished John’s uncle would either get an answering machine or keep the phone with him. Instead, she knew the fifties-style, heavy green phone sat in a corner between the foyer and the kitchen downstairs. Dalton spent most of his time in the library upstairs. With his arthritis, it could take ten minutes for him to get down there and answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Dalton. It’s Peggy. John’s wife.”
“I know who you are. And don’t you mean John’s widow?”
Peggy took a deep breath. Dealing with Dalton was never easy. “I was wondering if I could come by and discuss something with you. Anytime you have free would be fine.”
“Just come to the point, Peggy. What do you want this time?”
Ignoring his curt rudeness, as always, she did as he asked. “I need a new furnace at the house. The old one died about twenty years ago, but we made do. I can’t do anything with it anymore. It has to be replaced.”
“Why are you telling me? Call a furnace man.”
“You know why I’m telling you, Dalton. I’d like the trust to pay for the furnace. It’s not like it won’t be good for whoever moves in after me. If it stays in the house as long as the one I have now, there won’t have to be another one for a hundred years. I’m not planning on living there that much longer.”
“How long are you planning to live there, Peggy? I think you’ve already overstayed your welcome. It’s not your house. If you want the trust to repair it, you’ll have to give up the place. Then we’ll do major renovations before the new owner moves in.”
“I didn’t say I was planning to move. But I probably won’t be alive in a hundred years either,” she rebutted. “I’m not ready to give up the house. But I’d like you to replace the furnace.”
“Replace it yourself. Or move out.”
The phone line went dead. Peggy knew he’d hung up on her. Not surprising. Most of their conversations went that way. How could John have been related to such an obnoxious old coot?
Steve brought back spicy rice and grilled vegetables for dinner. He served it with hibiscus tea and cheddar biscuits. They ate sitting on stools at the checkout counter while the other shops in the courtyard and the arcade closed down around them.
Peggy told him about her disastrous first obedience lesson with Shakespeare and her meeting with the medical examiner. He was surprised they would ask her to testify in a case where a friend was involved.
“There aren’t many experts in botanical poisons for the taking in Charlotte.” She wiped her lips with a napkin. “I suppose Dr. Ramsey was being expedient.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Prove that Beth is innocent. I hope.”
“What if she isn’t?” He took a sip of tea and held her gaze over the glass.
“There’s no doubt of that in my mind, Steve. I know her. She didn’t kill anyone.”
“Maybe she’s banking on you feeling that way. On most people feeling that way. No one wants to think someone would kill their spouse. But she’s got a lot against her, Peggy. Isn’t it at least possible? She did lie about the insurance and kept quiet about the affair. Why would she do that if she were innocent?”