“What about Cindy?”
“Ms. Walker has an airtight alibi for the period the ME established for the time of death. She was in Raleigh at a fund-raiser. So with Mrs. Godwin’s impromptu confession and all the other evidence against her, the DA is filing charges against her for the murder.”
Peggy took a deep breath. “So Beth is clear.”
“It looks that way to me.”
16
Rabbit’s Foot Fern
Botanicaclass="underline" Davallia fejeensis
Family: Davalliaceae
This plant gets its common name from the stiff, hairy rhizomes that grow on it. It is native to Fiji but named botanically for Swiss botanist, Edmond Davall. Avoid direct sun! This plant is nonflowering. Popular as a houseplant worldwide.
IT WAS WEDNESDAY MORNING. Time for Peggy’s weekly garden club meeting at the Kozy Kettle. It was originally held on Thursday mornings, but Emil insisted Wednesdays were better for him. Peggy changed the day rather than move the group. With a smile on her face and a small knife in one hand, she faced her garden club members.
“The thing we all love about the rabbit’s foot fern are the fuzzy rhizomes that trail over the sides of the pot or basket that holds it. Early spring is really the best time of year to cut this plant back, but as you can see, Gerda has a problem with this one that won’t wait that long.”
Gerda Laint smiled and nodded in the audience. She’d brought Peggy her overgrown fern, wondering what to do with it.
“Naturally, we’re going to spread out some newspaper first to try to contain as much of the mess as we can. Then we’re going to take the plant out of the pot.” The fern stubbornly refused to budge from the plastic pot that held it. “Shaking it a little might be necessary.” Peggy demonstrated what she meant, and the plant finally came out. “Go ahead while you’re holding it and give the plant another good shake to get rid of any dead leaves or other debris that might be stuck to it.”
The fifteen women in the garden club watched intently as Peggy cleared away the old leaves and set the pot to one side. She put the plant down in the middle of the newspaper, then held up her knife. “Make sure you have a good sharp knife so you aren’t sawing at the plant. Separation is traumatic enough for the poor thing.”
“Carefully cut between rhizomes and make sure you get the roots.” Peggy cut the first furry tentacle that gave the plant its name. “Try to cut so you keep some leaves. You should end up with a smaller but complete plant with each cutting. The leaves should be at the top, rhizome in the middle, and roots at the bottom. Put each separate plant in its own pot of new soil. Water them thoroughly.” She demonstrated. “Don’t fertilize them until midsummer or so. And don’t expect to see new growth until the roots begin to develop.”
After scribbling down notes on what Peggy was saying, the women rushed to ask questions. One woman even took pictures. Peggy answered patiently and held up the plant for a picture.
“We’ve got some fresh buns ready,” Sofia said, noticing that the group was about to break up. “I know you all want those, right?”
After the garden club, the women were always thirsty and took home some fresh baked bread or cinnamon rolls. That’s why Emil graciously allowed Peggy to hold her meetings there. Wednesday mornings were quiet at Brevard Court. The meetings brought in some business.
“You lucked out with your friend,” Emil said, watching the news as Peggy was getting her things together. “Looks like they got some other people in mind now for those murders.”
She agreed with him and thanked him for the use of his shop as she always did. She didn’t gossip with him about anything that had happened. It was still too fresh, too painful for her to do anything but mull it over in her mind.
A shipment of hyacinths, daffodils, and tulips waited for her at the Potting Shed. Their bright colors and sweet smells brought the heart of spring into the shop. It was enough to lift her spirits, even though she sold out by midafternoon.
Peggy closed up the shop after a flurry of last-minute phone orders for plants and services. She looked at her spreadsheet for February with satisfaction. The Potting Shed was doing all right. It still terrified her sometimes to be in business for herself. A lifetime of regular paychecks left her unprepared for the fitful irregularities of money a shopkeeper could expect.
Business was slow after Christmas, but things were starting to pick up. If the trend continued, she would definitely give up her place at Queens. It was going to take some faith and courage, but she felt it was the right thing to do. The Potting Shed was getting more and more demanding. She didn’t want to shortchange her students either. It had always been her goal to narrow her focus down to her botanical projects and the shop. Maybe spring would be the right time.
Peggy spoke with Beth for a few minutes before leaving the shop. She was glad to hear Beth was as disgusted by Gary Rusch’s advances as she was. “I didn’t want to mention it. I thought maybe . . . but it was none of my business. Park did fool around with Cindy after all.”
“Please!” Beth begged, “Give me credit for good taste! If I was going to fool around, it wouldn’t be with him. And it wouldn’t be on the heels of my husband’s death. I loved Park even though he was unfaithful. That’s why I took him back. I really wanted our marriage to work.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to think.”
“I didn’t either,” Beth admitted. “And I was scared at first to say anything. But I warned him off. There won’t be anymore of that going on!”
Peggy was glad to hear it. When Beth said she had to go, Peggy put the phone down feeling better about her friend. She bundled up and went out into the night.
With cold winds blowing down the dark streets of Charlotte, there were few people lingering after work uptown. The smell of fresh bread baking told her someone was working in one of the restaurants. But all she could see were empty windows and closed doors as she rode past the buildings between her and home. She kept her head down against the biting wind and pedaled as fast as she could.
Shakespeare was barking, and the telephone was ringing inside the house as she stepped up to the door with her mail in hand. She shivered as she put the key in the lock. For just a moment, she wondered if she’d find the house ransacked again. But Isabelle’s killer was behind bars. She was just being paranoid.
She forced herself to finish the act of opening her front door. Her emotional side argued with her logical side. She couldn’t go on standing there, dreading what she might find. And the alarm was set. No one was in there. The house had to be as she left it.
With the door open, the alarm system added its warning sound to the clamor of phone and dog. Peggy quickly turned off the alarm and closed the door behind her. She reached the phone and answered it breathlessly. “Hello?”
“Hello, sweet Pea! We haven’t heard from you in a while. Thought I’d give you a call and see what’s going on up there in the big city.”
Peggy dropped her backpack on the table and collapsed into a chair near the door. “Hello, Daddy. I’m doing fine. Staying busy. How’s Mama?”
“She’s doing good. Had that surgery on her ankle a few weeks back. She’s been a little ornery, but I just make her stay out on the porch when she gets that way. Got a good crop of broccoli and some sweet potatoes for you. I’ll bring ’em up when we come.”
“When you come?” Peggy sat up and opened her eyes. “Are you coming to visit?”