Poisoned Petals Read online

  Her lungs were bursting, but she knew she couldn’t take a breath of the poisoned air. It could mean the difference between life and death for both of them. She couldn’t stop, couldn’t let go, and couldn’t breathe until she could force them both through the doorway.

  Something hit her. She thought it fell from the ceiling. Blood or perspiration dripped down the side of her face. She didn’t have time to see which it was. It didn’t matter. Her world narrowed to the doorway.

  She didn’t realize she was on her knees, crawling, with her hand still tangled in Darmus’s shirt collar, until she looked up and saw a firefighter in full protective gear staring down at her.

  “There are two people still in the house,” he said into his radio. “Both of them near the back door. I’m getting them out now before the roof collapses.”

  He dragged Peggy out quickly and left her gasping for air on the ground beyond the porch. She tried to yell at him to get Darmus, too, but the words wouldn’t come out of her rasping throat.

  She watched as he dragged Darmus out. He laid him carefully on the ground beside her. He shook his head at the paramedics as they approached with oxygen masks and stretchers.

  “This one is gone.” He took off his mask. “Maybe just as well, with those burns.”

  Peggy screamed in her mind. Darmus! Her throat was too raw to issue any sound. She collapsed and stared up into the clear afternoon sky above her.

  Someone asked her if she was burned. Someone else asked her if she knew who she was. She couldn’t answer. She closed her eyes, hoping when she woke up it would all be a bad dream.

  PEGGY WOKE LATER THAT DAY to find her nightmare was real. Darmus was dead. Apparently, he’d been trying to light a faulty gas stove and it blew up in his face.

  Her son, Paul, sat with her at the hospital while a police community liaison officer told her what they knew about what happened. Paul was tall and thin like his father with Peggy’s green eyes and bright red hair spiked on his head. His dark blue Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department uniform reminded her too much of her husband, John, many years before. She turned her head on the smooth, white pillow so she wouldn’t cry.

  “It was probably an accident,” the liaison concluded, taking off her blue-rimmed glasses.

  “Probably?” Peggy’s voice sounded like a rusty hinge after inhaling so much smoke. “How could it be anything else?”

  “In these cases,” the woman shrugged, “we have to consider every possibility. The arson team will check it out. There will be an investigation and an autopsy.”

  Peggy closed her burning eyes. A nurse had put drops into them a few minutes before, making them sting even more. She didn’t remember much of the ride to the hospital. But seeing Paul’s anxious young face and worried eyes made her realize she was lucky to be alive.

  She didn’t understand what there was to investigate. Darmus was dead, a victim of carelessness. It happened every day. She felt sure there were statistics if someone wanted to look them up. Darmus was gone.

  “Do you have any other questions, Mrs. Lee?” The police liaison peered closely into Peggy’s face. Her voice was louder than it needed to be, as if saying the words louder would make them more palatable.

  “Dr. Lee,” Paul corrected, getting to his feet. “I think she should rest for a while. Thanks for coming by. If she thinks of anything else, she’ll call.”

  “I’m sure the investigating detective will want to ask a few questions.” The woman shrugged and gave Paul her card. “I’m sorry for your loss, Dr. Lee.”

  Peggy didn’t respond. Her throat was scratchy, and her head hurt. There were cuts and bruises on her face and arms that stung from being cleaned and having antibiotic put on them. The worst of them were bandaged. The rest made a crazy patchwork up and down her arms.

  She didn’t even realize she’d been cut at the time. It must have happened when she was outside and the glass blew past her. She wanted to be left alone to cry and pound the bed. It seemed to be the only way to properly mourn Darmus.

  Paul walked the liaison to the door, and they spoke quietly for a few moments. When she was gone, he came back to the side of the bed and took his mother’s hand. “Are you okay, Mom? Can I get you some water or something?”

  “I’m fine.” She squeezed his hand and gave him a watery smile. “When can I go home?”

  He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders a little beneath the dark blue uniform. “The doctor might want you to stay overnight.”

  “What for? A little smoke and a few cuts.” She waved her hand. “Get my clothes.”

  “You could have a concussion. It took a lot of force to blow that door off.”

  “I wasn’t standing in front of it. I wouldn’t be here at all except that I went in after Darmus.” She choked on his name. It was stupid, ridiculous, to think he was gone. “Has anyone called Luther?”

  “I’m sure someone did. Let’s worry about you for a change, huh? How are you feeling?”

  “Like I need to go home.”

  Her son, who looked so much like her, shook his head. “You never let up. Can’t you admit you were hurt back there and get some rest for a few days?”

  “There’s too much to do. Luther will need help planning the funeral. He’s not in the best health. People need to be contacted. Rosie—”

  “Who’s Rosie?”

  “Rosie?” She wasn’t thinking when she blurted out that name. She hadn’t seen Rosie in twenty years. Darmus had mentioned her a few weeks ago, and they’d talked about her for the first time since college.

  He had terrible regrets about that time in his life. After being the good, hardworking brother who held his family together for so many years, he lost it for a while when he first started college. He binged on everything. It was as if he was trying to make up for his lost youth.

  His marriage to Rosie was a spur-of-the-moment insanity that seemed doomed from the beginning. Unfortunately, it was over before Darmus returned to his rational mind. He’d told Peggy that day in his garden when they’d talked about Rosie that he’d spent years afterward trying to make up for his indiscretions.

  “I don’t know what made me think about Rosie,” Peggy told her son. “She and Darmus were married once, but that was years ago. I doubt if she’ll want to know what happened to him.”

  “Why haven’t I ever heard her name before?”

  “I don’t know. We were good friends in school, at least until she broke up with Darmus. They were only married a short time. I don’t know what happened to her after that. I think she left school and went home. I started dating your father, and I lost track of her.”

  A beam of sunlight from the window caught the brass badge on Paul’s shirt and raised the fire in his hair. He had his father’s calm temperament, despite his red hair. Becoming a police officer was a sore point for them after John’s death. After losing her husband to violence, she didn’t want Paul to follow in his footsteps. She even suspected Paul might be out for revenge of some kind, since they never found his father’s killer.

  But they’d managed to mend those fences and move on with their relationship. It wasn’t easy. It had taken learning not to wince when she saw him in uniform, and learning to control her worry that he’d become a victim, too.

  “It happens,” he concluded finally. “There are lots of people I went to school with who I don’t see anymore. Things change.”

  She smiled. These words of wisdom came from a child who once argued with her that cows laid eggs. “I know. Still, maybe I should tell her. Maybe I thought of her for a reason.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Steve Newsome poked his head in, fighting with a bunch of green and yellow balloons to see into the room. “How’s it going? Is it okay to come in?”

  Peggy loathed thinking of Steve as her boyfriend. But she didn’t have a better term for him, though she refused to say the word boyfriend out loud.

  She was glad to see his steady brown eyes and ready smile. She hadn�
��t known him long, but he’d changed her life. She never thought she’d be happy again after John died. She certainly never thought she’d meet another man she could love. But fate seemed to have him in store for her.

  “She’s stubborn, like always. But she seems okay.” Paul shook his hand. “Can you stay for a while? I’m already an hour late going back.”

  “No problem,” Steve told him. “I cleared my schedule for the rest of the day when you called.”

  “No one has to stay.” Peggy preempted their casual conversation. “Especially not me. There’s nothing wrong that can’t mend at home.”

  Paul hugged his mother. “We can both tell that, Mom. You have a hundred cuts and burns on your face and you sound like a frog, but otherwise, everything is just peachy.”

  “I’ll tie her down if I have to,” Steve promised. “Don’t worry.”

  “All right. Thanks. I’ll see you later, Mom.”

  “Is anyone listening to me?” Peggy croaked. “I said I’m fine.”

  Paul shrugged and left the room, closing the door behind him. Steve took his chair, tying the balloons he’d brought to the bed. “I was at Harris Teeter when Paul called. I thought I’d bring something to cheer you up.”

  “Thanks. You can bring them home with us.”

  “Paul told me he spoke with the doctor. He said you may have hit your head. If they want you to stay, it would just be overnight for observation.”

  “Steve, I’m fine. I have a little headache, but—”

  “I thought I had reluctant patients!” He rolled his eyes. “At least animals can’t talk back!”

  They played cards for a while, waiting for the doctor to come by with word on her release. Peggy told Steve what happened, her eyes filling up with tears again when she thought about it.

  He put his arms around her, and she buried her face in his chest. He smelled like fresh air, Pine-Sol from his veterinarian office, and Dial soap. A heady combination for her, it seemed, since she was always glad to be in his arms. “It was a terrible thing. I close my eyes, and it’s still there. His skin was peeling away.”

  “I’m here,” he whispered, kissing the side of her hair. “I’ve got you.”

  She wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way. It could have been forever. A discreet tap at the door separated them. Steve stepped back from the bed, and she sniffed, wiping her tears on the edge of the rough white bedsheet. “Come in.”

  It surprised her when Luther came into the room. He was wearing a dark suit and a starched white shirt that made his haggard face look longer and thinner. “I’m so sorry, Peggy. Are you all right? Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Yes . . . no. I’ll be fine. I was glad I could be there for Darmus, even though it didn’t really help.”

  “You’ve always been a good friend.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I was contacted by the Council of Churches. They’re in a panic over this. They want me to take Darmus’s position, at least in the interim. Maybe for good.”

  Knowing this was always what he wanted, and that it would probably be what Darmus would want as well, Peggy tried to smile. It was hard. Losing Darmus so Luther could head Feed America was a bad trade. Luther didn’t work to earn this achievement. He simply lost his brother. And he didn’t seem particularly distraught because of it, either. How could he even think of who was going to head Feed America, much less care about it?

  She ended up not mentioning it. She couldn’t find the words to say how she felt. Even if she did, she couldn’t express them without sounding like an old hand pump that needed priming.

  Steve filled in. “Paul spoke with the police liaison earlier. She said there would be an investigation.”

  “Yes. I know.”

  “How could anyone be so brilliant and so stupid?” Peggy barked out in frustration.

  Luther frowned and shook his head. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Darmus. How could he do something so stupid?” The anger phase of grief was hitting her fast and hard.

  “I-I don’t know, Peggy. Darmus was difficult to understand sometimes.”

  “I’ll be glad to help you with the service once everything is over,” she volunteered. “It might be weeks, though, since there will be an autopsy.”

  Luther didn’t seem to understand her until she said the word autopsy. Then he reacted. “Autopsy? But we all know how he died.”

  Peggy glanced at Steve, wondering if he saw what she saw in Luther’s face. “Any time a death is unusual, they do an autopsy. It’s just routine.”

  Luther nodded. “Not that it matters much now anyway. What happened has happened. We shall be judged accordingly, each to his own weakness.”

  “How are you feeling?” She tried to sound caring and sensitive, but her voice wouldn’t let her. It was hard to sound caring or sensitive when you had to cough out a word.

  “I’ve been better, as you know. But I hope to be able to take up the mantle for Darmus. He was always there for us when we were growing up. I don’t know what I would have done without him. Rebecca and I owed him our lives. He sacrificed greatly to tend to us.”

  “He was a very loving man.”

  “Yes.” Luther seemed to shake himself and glanced at his watch. “I have to go, Peggy. I’ll pray for you.”

  “And call me if you need me,” she said before he left.

  “Thank you. I will.”

  When the door closed behind him, she looked at Steve. “What do you think that was about?”

  “What?”

  “The way he was acting. He seemed nervous.”

  “Maybe his brother died today. Maybe he didn’t know exactly what to say. Why? What do you think was wrong with him?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged and let her head drop back on the pillow. “Nothing more than that, I suppose. I don’t like him stepping into Darmus’s shoes so quickly. It doesn’t seem right.”

  “You cared about Darmus. This Feed America thing may be run by the Council of Churches, but they still have their image to think about. A face needs to be replaced by a face.”

  “That’s cold.”

  He shrugged. “That’s the American corporate way. At least I know my patients love me.”

  “I can see why.” She smiled at him. “You’re very easy to love.”

  “Even if I think you should stay in the hospital tonight if the doctor says you should?”

  “Maybe.”

  But when the doctor finally came in, he decided to send her home, if she had someone to stay with her.

  “I’ll find someone,” she assured him. “Thank you! My parents are coming to visit. I have a thousand things to do.”

  “Nothing like that! You have to stay quiet for a few days. Take it easy. I’ll have the nurse send you home with instructions. If you can’t follow them, you could wind up right back in here again.”

  Peggy frowned, but Steve stepped in. “Don’t worry. We’ll find some way to get her to take it easy. Thanks, Doctor.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Peggy didn’t care. She was going home. Everything would be better there. Her dog would be there. Her plants would be there. If she woke up in the middle of the night, she wouldn’t have to stare at the four walls and ceiling.

  It took another hour to get her discharge papers and instructions from the nurse. Steve had already been on the phone with Paul making arrangements so she wouldn’t have to be alone.

  “I don’t know what’s so bad about this place.” Steve opened her dinner tray when it arrived. “There’s a chocolate pudding cup and stewed carrots. Yum!”

  “No plants.” She changed clothes and got her things together, putting her singed gardening gloves into her pocket. “Or at least no healthy-looking plants. Just look at this poor, anemic philodendron! And no computer.”

  “Of course! The computer!” He laughed. “You really need a laptop.”

  “Good idea!”

  PEGGY WOKE UP AND GLANCED at her bedside clock. She was sobbing so har
d she couldn’t catch her breath. She tried to recall what happened and wasn’t sure. Her hands were shaking, and her heart was pounding fast.

  Darmus. Darmus is dead.

  Shakespeare, her Great Dane, made a noise in his throat that she’d come to think of as his questioning sound. He looked at her with his brown eyes half open, wanting to know what was wrong. Even if it was fantasy that people could communicate with animals, she didn’t care. She might be a scientist, but at that moment she was a human being, cold and alone. She locked her arms around his golden neck and sobbed into his fur.

  Paul or Steve, maybe both, were probably downstairs. She wasn’t sure. But for that moment when Darmus’s death really hit her, she couldn’t move; she could scarcely breathe. She clung to Shakespeare, and he lay still beside her as she poured her grief out onto him.

  “Now I’ve got you all wet, too.” She laughed and patted his velvety head that was bigger than hers. “Thank you for letting me cry on you. You’re a good friend.”

  He licked her hand, then laid his head back down on the pillow beside hers and went back to sleep. In the short time he’d lived with her, he’d come to appreciate his comforts.

  But Peggy was awake for the night. She didn’t want to go downstairs. Paul or Steve, maybe both, would offer comfort, and she didn’t need that right now. Right now, she needed to do something constructive about Darmus’s death. And the best thing she could think of was finding Rosie.

  Maybe Rosie wouldn’t want to know about Darmus. Their breakup was a long time ago. But Peggy doubted if that pain ever went away. It had been Darmus’s decision to leave their marriage. He had a chance to go and study African culture in Zimbabwe as part of his thesis. Rosie didn’t want to go so far away from home.

  Peggy remembered long nights spent sitting up with Rosie after Darmus was gone. They had talked for hours and burned a thousand candles trying to figure out why life turned out the way it did. There were no answers.