Free Poisoned Petals by Joyce Lavene, Jim

night. He wants me to think about it a little longer. Even if I quit, they want me to come back for some lectures next year. But school’s out for now anyway. I’m technically only a garden shop owner. I’ll have so much free time, I won’t know what to do with myself.”
    “Maybe I can help you out with that problem.” He leaned toward her, but the phone rang, startling them apart.
    Peggy reached for it with a grin. It was her son, Paul. “I just saw Grama and Grampa’s old Buick go by the coffee shop on Providence. They’re only a few minutes from you. I hope you’re ready.”
    “Thanks for calling. Are you coming over?”
    “After shift change. Can you handle it until then?”
    “I’ve handled your grandparents since before you were born. I think I can handle them this time.”
    “That’s true,” Paul agreed with a laugh. “But can you handle Aunt Mayfield and Cousin Melvin? Let’s not forget you have to introduce all of them to Steve .”
    “Go back to work, Officer Lee. I’ll see you after shift change.”
    “Is Paul giving you a hard time, too?” Steve asked when she put down the phone.
    “No more than usual. That boy has an attitude and a smart mouth.”
    He smiled as he stirred the soup. “I wonder where he got that from.”
    “Don’t you start! I’m going to walk through the house and check on everything one more time. Can you handle the kitchen until I get back?”
    He saluted her. “I’ll stand steady at my post, sir.”
    “Good.” She reached down to switch off the small TV that sat on the kitchen cabinet. The volume was low, but a photo she recognized flashed on the screen with a news update. She paused and turned up the volume.
    “. . . was found unconscious in the Community Garden Project on Seventh Street just a few minutes ago. Paramedics are rushing him to Presbyterian Hospital as we speak. You’ll recall, Stacey, that the Community Garden was created by Dr. Darmus Appleby after he coaxed this piece of property from city leaders last year. He died in a tragic house fire a few days ago. His brother, Reverend Luther Appleby, took over his spot as the head of Feed America, Dr. Appleby’s well-known project to end world hunger. The Community Garden was part of that endeavor.”
    “What do the police think happened to him, Jamie? Do they think it was an accident? Was he a victim of gang violence? I believe they’ve had some trouble with local gangs hanging out in the garden.”
    “I’m not sure, Stacey. A group of Girl Scouts who were out to work in the garden found him. They were taken away by police, and no one has released any further information. I’ll let you know as soon as we have any other news about what happened here today. It’s certainly another hardship for the Appleby family.”
    The camera shifted back to the studio and the blond news anchor faced her audience. “That was Jamie MacIntire bringing us news of a tragedy at the Community Garden as Reverend Luther Appleby was found unconscious on the grounds. We’ll let you know what happens as more information comes to us. Now, let’s move on to sports.”
    “Was that your friend?” Steve broke the sudden silence.
    “Yes.” Peggy picked up the phone but couldn’t get through to the hospital. “I haven’t seen him since the fire. But he’s called every day since I got home. He seemed fine last night. I thought he was going to be all right.”
    “It could be anything. Maybe you should go to the hospital.”
    Shakespeare heard the sound of a strange car in the drive before they did. He ran to the front door, his deep barks echoing through the house.
    “That must be my parents.” Peggy looked around the kitchen. “I don’t know—”
    “Grab your purse. I’ll handle everything here. I can put lunch on the table as well as you can. Call me when you find out what happened.”
    “I don’t know, Steve. Are you sure?”
    “I’m sure. They’re just people. I’m a veterinarian. I can talk about