wasn’t watching Paul like she thought he was a jerk. The young forensics officer seemed pretty interested in him. “Only my students call me Dr. Lee. My friends call me Peggy.”
“Thanks.” Mai glanced at the open doorway. “Maybe he’s still grieving. Maybe that’s why he’s such a jerk.”
“I’d like to think so. But I’m not really sure.”
“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be talking about him that way.”
“No, that’s all right. He’s my son, and I love him, but no one’s perfect.”
“Has he always been so . . . ?”
“Difficult?” Peggy queried. “Yes. I’m afraid so. Worse since his father died. He looks like me, but he has his father’s moodiness. He was devastated when John was killed.”
“Are you finished with her yet?” Paul looked in from the doorway. “She’s answering questions voluntarily. I hope you’ve noted that.”
“I have,” Mai answered belligerently. “And after meeting her, I don’t know what happened to you !”
Paul’s face turned red, but he recovered quickly. “Save the sarcasm. I’m getting my mother out of here. Anything else, you’ll have to contact her attorney.”
Peggy glanced at him. “But I don’t have an attorney, honey.”
“Maybe you should get one,” Mai warned. “We don’t know how this is going to end up yet. And you were the one who found the body.”
Peggy sighed and got to her feet. “We’ll see. Thanks for your help anyway.”
“Any time.”
“Come over here,” Paul invited his mother, closing Mai’s office door with a loud bang.
She followed him into an unoccupied office.
“You shouldn’t be here.” He closed the door behind them.
“I wanted to know what they found out,” she defended. “The dead man was in my shop.”
“Look, Mom, this is embarrassing enough without you making it worse!”
“ Embarrassing?”
“Yes.” Paul’s pacing was hampered by the tiny room stuffed full of furniture. “What do you think it’s like with people knowing my mother found a dead man in her garden shop? Mark Warner, of all people, for God’s sake!”
“You can hardly blame me for what other people think.”
“I know that. And I don’t blame you. But being here only makes it worse.”
“In what way?”
“What do you think everyone will say when they know you were here asking Mai for details?”
Peggy shrugged. “That I was interested?”
“Look, Mom, stay out of it! Go home. Let everyone do their job! You were married to a detective, but that doesn’t make you one.”
She looked at her son’s handsome face. “I’m going home. Well, actually, I’m going home after my class. For now anyway. But if I have a chance to solve even a small part of the puzzle, I will.”
“Mom—”
“I’ll talk to you later, Paul.”
“ Mom!”
She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry so much. Come by, and I’ll make you supper one night.”
“Dad always said you were too stubborn for your own good.”
“I love you, too!”
Peggy showed herself out of the station after getting some water from the drinking fountain to use on the ficus. She half expected Paul to come out screaming after her. When he didn’t, she took a deep breath and unlocked the chain on her bicycle. She glanced at her watch. It was eleven-thirty. The air was delicious with the smell of frying onions and peppers from the uptown sidewalk vendors. It made her stomach growl, reminding her that she only had tea for breakfast. She had just enough time to go home for lunch before her class.
THE WIND WAS BRISK and cold, but she welcomed it in her face as she pedaled into her driveway past the Chinese fountain and the frostbitten crape myrtles. She’d come to like having the four distinct seasons in Charlotte. Growing up at the coast, there was summer and a cool month. Then it was summer again. Or at least it seemed that way to her as a child.
“Good morning, Clarice,” she called to her neighbor.
“Morning, Peggy!” the
“Thanks.” Mai glanced at the open doorway. “Maybe he’s still grieving. Maybe that’s why he’s such a jerk.”
“I’d like to think so. But I’m not really sure.”
“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be talking about him that way.”
“No, that’s all right. He’s my son, and I love him, but no one’s perfect.”
“Has he always been so . . . ?”
“Difficult?” Peggy queried. “Yes. I’m afraid so. Worse since his father died. He looks like me, but he has his father’s moodiness. He was devastated when John was killed.”
“Are you finished with her yet?” Paul looked in from the doorway. “She’s answering questions voluntarily. I hope you’ve noted that.”
“I have,” Mai answered belligerently. “And after meeting her, I don’t know what happened to you !”
Paul’s face turned red, but he recovered quickly. “Save the sarcasm. I’m getting my mother out of here. Anything else, you’ll have to contact her attorney.”
Peggy glanced at him. “But I don’t have an attorney, honey.”
“Maybe you should get one,” Mai warned. “We don’t know how this is going to end up yet. And you were the one who found the body.”
Peggy sighed and got to her feet. “We’ll see. Thanks for your help anyway.”
“Any time.”
“Come over here,” Paul invited his mother, closing Mai’s office door with a loud bang.
She followed him into an unoccupied office.
“You shouldn’t be here.” He closed the door behind them.
“I wanted to know what they found out,” she defended. “The dead man was in my shop.”
“Look, Mom, this is embarrassing enough without you making it worse!”
“ Embarrassing?”
“Yes.” Paul’s pacing was hampered by the tiny room stuffed full of furniture. “What do you think it’s like with people knowing my mother found a dead man in her garden shop? Mark Warner, of all people, for God’s sake!”
“You can hardly blame me for what other people think.”
“I know that. And I don’t blame you. But being here only makes it worse.”
“In what way?”
“What do you think everyone will say when they know you were here asking Mai for details?”
Peggy shrugged. “That I was interested?”
“Look, Mom, stay out of it! Go home. Let everyone do their job! You were married to a detective, but that doesn’t make you one.”
She looked at her son’s handsome face. “I’m going home. Well, actually, I’m going home after my class. For now anyway. But if I have a chance to solve even a small part of the puzzle, I will.”
“Mom—”
“I’ll talk to you later, Paul.”
“ Mom!”
She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry so much. Come by, and I’ll make you supper one night.”
“Dad always said you were too stubborn for your own good.”
“I love you, too!”
Peggy showed herself out of the station after getting some water from the drinking fountain to use on the ficus. She half expected Paul to come out screaming after her. When he didn’t, she took a deep breath and unlocked the chain on her bicycle. She glanced at her watch. It was eleven-thirty. The air was delicious with the smell of frying onions and peppers from the uptown sidewalk vendors. It made her stomach growl, reminding her that she only had tea for breakfast. She had just enough time to go home for lunch before her class.
THE WIND WAS BRISK and cold, but she welcomed it in her face as she pedaled into her driveway past the Chinese fountain and the frostbitten crape myrtles. She’d come to like having the four distinct seasons in Charlotte. Growing up at the coast, there was summer and a cool month. Then it was summer again. Or at least it seemed that way to her as a child.
“Good morning, Clarice,” she called to her neighbor.
“Morning, Peggy!” the
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