Trout lily

Botanical: Erythronium americanum

Ants pollinate the trout lily or dogtooth violet. After a seed is planted, it may take seven years to make a mature plant and then, only plants with two leaves will flower. The lily opens each morning and closes each night and during the heat of the day, the sepals appear to be curved backwards. The plant grows from a deep rootstock or corm, which is three to five inches underground.

CHAPTER ONE

“You will all die!”

A few people attending the funeral service for Mayor Jim Garrison were jolted out of their sorrow and reverie with the preacher’s avid declaration. One or two, who had never been to a fundamentalist Baptist service, looked shocked and confused as well.

The tall, gaunt scarecrow of a minister squeezed one eye shut and pointed his skeletal finger at each member of the congregation. The other eye glared at them. “The living know that they shall die, but the dead know nothing. Their hatred and their love is now perished.”

Peggy Lee had almost been asleep in the drowsy heat of the afternoon service. She pushed her worn black hat back on her white/red hair. It was too hot in July for black but her Liz Claiborne suit and hat were as funereal as her summer wardrobe allowed. People shouldn’t die in the summer. She fussed with her pocketbook looking for something to do. It was too hot and too easy to go to sleep during a memorial service.

She looked at her son, Paul who sat beside her. They had both known the former mayor of Badin since Paul was a baby. It was proper that they should be there even if it was inconvenient. But dying had a way of being difficult.

Paul looked over at her and smiled back. He took her hand, his green eyes so like hers clouded with memories of another funeral. His father, Peggy’s husband, John, had died only two years before. His funeral had been crowded like this one, but instead of hundreds of civilians, there had been hundreds of police officers from all over the state.

“Jim Garrison was a good man,” the preacher intoned. “But every man is guilty of sin. Every man will suffer this life in sorrow until he is reunited with our Lord.”

Peggy definitely agreed with him, especially when it came to this funeral service. She was definitely suffering without air-conditioning. The doors and windows to the little white wooden church were thrown open to the oppressive heat. Many of the mourners stood in the doorway and on the steps. She supposed they were in even worse shape than she was; at least she was sitting down.

She looked at her friend, the present mayor of Badin, who sat beside her. The heat was getting to him as well. He was nodding off, his chin almost resting on his chest. She pushed her elbow into Tom Harrison’s side. He snorted a little and opened his eyes. She smiled at him as he shook his head to clear it and the preacher rattled on about death and salvation.

“If I could stay awake through this,” Tom whispered. “I’m sure I’d be scared enough not to do anything bad again.”

“I think I’ve been awake,” she whispered back. “It doesn’t matter. We’re all going to suffer and die. There’s no help for it.”

He would’ve laughed, but caught himself in time. It was a good thing. He had a big, booming laugh that could be heard easily in a crowd during the annual Badin Festival. At this point in the lengthy memorial service with half of the congregation asleep, there might have been a few heart attacks.

The organ music came up and the preacher opened his eyes from his final prayer. “Go with God,” he blessed the group of mourners. “But remember; your day is at hand.”

They filed out of the musty old church and into the sunlight filtering through the trees on Morrow Mountain, one of Badin’s tourist attractions. The fresh air was reviving even though it was superheated. The shade offered a little relief, but no breeze stirred the old oak trees that surrounded the church.

“He was a fine man.” The man who spoke looked to be at least 100. “He did a lot for this town. He always believed in it even when things looked bad.”

“We’re gonna miss him.” A woman beside him in a dark brown crepe dress agreed. “How are you, Peggy? I haven’t seen you in an age. What have you been up to?”

Peggy took off her black hat. She couldn’t stand it a minute longer. She fluffed her mostly white hair with an impatient hand and hoped it didn’t look like a goose had been squatting on it. “I’m doing fine, Lora Jean. I was out here a few months ago. Paul was fishing. Tom loaned us his boat. I think he said you were in Atlanta with your daughter.”

“That’s right. Where’s my mind?” The other woman tapped her forehead. “It’s a lot for Tom to fill Jim’s shoes, but I think he’ll do a good job.”

Mayor Harrison put his arm around his friend’s shoulders. “And she’s not a bit prejudiced.”

Lora Jean laughed. “No! Not at all. You all are coming to the house for something to eat, right?” Then as Peggy began to make her excuses, “I won’t hear of you going all the way back to Charlotte without something to eat and drink. You know where we live. I expect to see you. And I want to hear about your garden shop. How’s that coming along?”

“The Potting Shed is hanging in there,” Peggy answered. “You’ll have to come to Charlotte and let me give you a tour.”

“I just might do that. I’ve been looking for some nice blueberry bushes to plant.” Lora Jean wiped the sweat from her brow. “But right now, let’s get to the house and out of the sun.”

Paul shook his head as the mayor and Lora Jean walked away. “Smooth, Mom. I guess we’re going to get something to eat. Why does every funeral have to have food?”

“I’m not sure. It’s tradition. I’m glad I brought that banana pudding now. It’s not good to go to one of these things and not take food.”

“So that’s what the ice chest is for!”

“Always be prepared.” She opened the door to her truck and glanced over at the recently dug grave that was covered with flowers. “Jim worked hard his whole life to get this town on its feet. If anyone deserves to rest in peace, it’s him.”

There was a wait getting out of the church parking lot. Even on Christmas day, the tiny church probably only saw a fraction of the number of cars here today for the service. The road that curved up and down the mountain was more like a parking lot. It took time to get the cars and pick-ups going.

“I hope we aren’t sorry we brought your truck.” Paul tried to see across his mother to the gauge that said how much of a charge was left in the batteries that filled the back of the pick-up. “How far does this thing go before you have to plug it in?”

“Don’t worry,” she defended her modified Ford Ranger. “It will make the trip without a problem. I was out here making sure all the sunflowers were safe, remember? Everything was fine.”

“Except for your competition opening up in Founder’s Hall, we both had a good month until this. I guess it was too much to hope for nothing bad to happen.”

Paul didn’t have to remind her that Smith and Hawken had already hung their shingle in the busy mall area in Center City Charlotte. She’d watched them every step of the way from rumor to reality.

The Potting Shed was a short walk away in Brevard Court. She did a good business there with eager condominium buyers who wanted to spruce up their balconies and window space with plants. But part of her market was the same type of outdoor furniture that Smith and Hawken sold. Her store was much smaller and couldn’t hold as many pieces. There was no doubt many of her customers would buy plants from her and the pricier garden items from her competitor.

This came at a time when Peggy had embarked on a second retirement from teaching botany at Queen’s University. The Potting Shed was doing well and the Charlotte Police had offered her a contract position as a forensic botanist. She’d hoped that would get her through. She’d mortgaged everything and spent John’s pension to open her shop; their shop, the one they’d dreamed about for years before the night John was killed.

“We’ll be fine.” She presented an assured face to Paul, but inside she was worried. She was a worrier by nature so that wasn’t surprising. She wasn’t sure how often the police would need a contract forensic botanist. So far she hadn’t done any work for them. The Potting Shed was doing all right, holding its own between the landscape business and the shop itself. Thank goodness Charlotte’s downtown housing boom had come along so she had someone to buy her garden supplies.

It was a short ride down the mountain in the blessed air-conditioned environment of the truck. Too short, she realized, when she saw the dinner was being held outside in Tom Harrison’s yard. Two large white tents had been erected to handle most of Badin plus friends of the mayor from out of town. It was going to be a sultry memorial dinner.

She parked where she could find space on one of Badin’s old twisted streets. One thing she’d always loved about the town was its French flavor. It was left over from the French engineers who’d built the town at the turn of the last century when mining aluminum and harnessing the great falls of the Yadkin River for power seemed like the best thing to do.

Despite losing interest during the First World War, the village continued to grow under the ownership of United Metals. The corporation still maintained its stranglehold on the community, alternately giving with one hand while taking away with the other. The aluminum smelting plant was all but closed down now, a symbol of Badin’s problems coping with the 21^st century.

But the sweet charm of the streets with their stone storm water channels and French design houses overlooking beautiful Badin Lake, the Uwharrie Mountains rising in the mists, never failed to delight her. She, John and Paul had spent many pleasant afternoons on the lake. Jim spent many of those long summer days with them. Men died, she considered, but the beauty and power of the land went on.

“I’ll get the banana pudding,” Paul offered. “Do you think anyone will mind if I leave my suit coat here in the truck?”

“Good Lord, no! It must be 100 degrees out here! I’m sure most of the men will lose their jackets and ties somewhere between here and the church. If it’s any consolation, Jim would’ve been the first one to take it off.”

“Yeah. He was a character. Remember that time he taught me how to make balloon animals? I think I drove you and Dad crazy for a couple weeks after that.”

“A couple weeks?” She looked at her hat on the seat in the truck and decided to leave it there. Women had as much right as men to be comfortable. “I think your father sent Jim a package of balloons for Christmas that year to thank him.”

Paul laughed. “Yeah, but just think, last year that skill came in handy at the Children’s Hospital benefit. How many other rookies can make sheep out of balloons?”

“I don’t want to think about that.” She locked the truck. Charlotte habits didn’t go away because someone was in a small town. “I pretended I didn’t know who you were.”

Lora Jean greeted them as they walked under the first big tent. Long tables were covered with white tablecloths and hundreds of casseroles, pies, cakes and fried chicken. “It’s like a banquet, I know. I’m sure Jim would’ve been proud at this turnout.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Peggy handed her the banana pudding. “He would’ve sampled most of this food too.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to bring this.” Lora Jean took the dish and set it on one of the long tables. “But you’re right. Jim could eat more chicken than any man I ever knew. He had a hunger for life, and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

Peggy and Lora Jean hugged then another family showed up with a big bowl of potato salad. Lora Jean went with them to find a place on the table for it.

“Wouldn’t be fried chicken without potato salad,” Mayor Harrison said as he circulated through the crowd. “What did you bring, Peggy?”

“Banana pudding. It’s the one over there in the white bowl.”

“Is it vegetarian?”

“No. I always put ham in it instead of bananas.”

He laughed. “Just checking. You still don’t eat meat, huh?”

“No. Your fried chicken is safe with me.”

“And why is that?” He continued teasing her. “You love plants. Why are you willing to eat them but not cows?”

“I never met a plant with a mother.” She shrugged. “If I do, I might change my mind.”

Paul was already moving down the long table with a plate in one hand when Mayor Harrison turned away to greet a member of the town council. Peggy grabbed a plate and followed Paul. She noticed the sudden sway of the tablecloths and glanced up at the sky. Dark clouds were hovering over Morrow Mountain, starting to move close to the lake. She hoped the weather would hold for a little while longer.

It was fun visiting with so many people she knew from the past. She didn’t get out to Badin as much as she wanted to. Between the shop and the rest of her hectic life, she was lucky she could find time to take a shower every day. Some of the faces she recognized in the crowd but couldn’t put names to. Others she recalled right away. They usually warranted hugs with long, sometimes tearful, hellos.

White caps developed on the lake. The wind scattered the gulls that usually rode the buoys that marked the swimming areas. Children and their parents still played in the water, probably trying to ignore the storm that might be brewing. Screams of happiness drifted across the lake along with the smell of roasting hotdogs.

Peggy found herself sandwiched between a city councilman who went to school with John and a woman from the Historic Badin Commission. They argued about Alcoa, always a subject that came up here. Half the town thought the corporation was like an evil overlord while the other half still looked to them for salvation. The argument grew heated when a Congressman sitting close by put down his chicken leg to add his opinion.

Not having enough information on the subject to voice an opinion, Peggy made her excuses and drifted away from the table with a glass of sweet tea in her hand. She watched the clouds grow darker and heard the growl of thunder come across the ancient Uwharries. She knew they might all be scattering for shelter quickly, whatever their opinions on United Metals.

“Peggy!” A petite woman with a shock of silver hair approached her. “I didn’t think you’d be out here today. I haven’t seen you since the forensic conference in Raleigh.”

“Ruth! You know me. I can’t resist a lot of food and politics at a funeral. I saw you finally got the funding for the new underwater forensic school at UNCC. Congratulations!”

“I guess I was tougher than they figured. How is your work with the CMPD going?”

“Slow right now. I haven’t had a chance to use my newfound status as a contract forensic botanist yet. How are you doing?”

Ruth Sargent shrugged. “We’re out for the summer, but it’s such a perfect time for diving that I decided to take a few students out. Last week we were doing some recovery work at Lake Tillery. I still have a house there.”

“That’s a beautiful area.” Peggy smiled at Ruth. She barely came to Peggy’s chest and probably only weighed 80 pounds. But she had a mighty intellect when it came to explaining how a forensic investigation should be done underwater. Her plain words and graphic slides were almost too much right after lunch during the seminar in Raleigh.

“Did you know Mayor Garrison well?” Ruth sipped some lemonade from a plastic cup.

“We were friends for years. How about you?”

“We’d only known each other a short time. I respected him. He’ll be missed.”

“It looks like this weather is agreeing with you.” Peggy watched shards of lightning pierce the darkening sky. “I think we’re going to have to take this inside.”

“I think you’re right. It’s good to see you. We need to have lunch and catch up.” Ruth smiled at her. “I’m going to see if I can help move some things.”

Peggy watched Ruth walk away, her tiny purple suit lightweight yet very appropriate. She didn’t recognize the design but knew quality when she saw it. She looked out at the lake that was whipped into angry froths. Coming up from the water, orange trumpet creepers gave some color to the green grass and a colorful little trout lily poked its head through some pine straw. She was surprised they hadn’t been cut down with the shorter grass, but that was the beauty of wild flowers; they survived through almost everything man could throw at them.

She turned back to help everyone who was busily moving plates, pots and chairs into the mayor’s house. A few raindrops had already fallen, leaving shimmering trails on the surface of the large white tents. She looked for Paul and saw him deep in conversation with a very pretty brunette. No reason he should help with the food. Almost all of it was already gone. It was more important for him to take an interest in a woman his age again. Since his disastrous relationship with Assistant Medical Examiner Mai Sato, Peggy had all but given up on seeing grandchildren in her lifetime.

“Let me give you a hand with that, Mom.” Paul saw her struggling with her banana pudding and an ice chest.

“That’s all right. I can take care of it. You go on with what you’re doing.”

He took the ice chest from her. “I was just talking to Stephanie. She’s a student at UNCC.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” Stephanie walked with them toward the house.

“Sorry.” Paul grinned and his face turned red. “Stephanie Nichols, this is my mother, Dr. Peggy Lee. Mom, this is Stephanie. She’s studying something to do with water at UNCC.”

Was this her son blushing and stammering? It was a good sign. Peggy shook hands with Stephanie. “Nice to meet you. You wouldn’t by any chance be studying underwater forensics with Professor Sargent?”

“That’s right!” Stephanie grinned, her blue eyes lighting up. “How did you know? Is there something about me that gives it away?”

Peggy laughed. “Of course not. I saw Ruth here. I’ve known her for years. I took her seminar in Raleigh.”

“Please don’t get her started on describing plants that grow on dead people,” Paul said to Stephanie.

“In that case, you wouldn’t want to hear what I have to say about algae that grows on dead people.” Stephanie smiled at him in the time-honored way that meant she was interested in him.

Another very good sign. “I’m sure we could have an interesting conversation,” Peggy told her as they entered the mayor’s house. “But I’m going over here with the old folks. You two talk about something besides dead people. Maybe babies.”

Paul’s green eyes were like emeralds as he flashed a look that could kill. “Thanks, Mom. Maybe you should pull out those pictures of me with my underwear on my head.”

“Not recent ones, I hope,” Stephanie teased.

“No. He hasn’t tried that since he was about seven, I think.” Peggy laughed off her son’s embarrassment. “Excuse me. I see someone I have to talk to.”

She left the two young people alone by the door as she waded through the crowd packed into the house. The breezes coming off the lake brought some relief from the heat, but the storm that accompanied them was bearing down with terrible intensity.

“Better batten down the hatches, eh Peggy?” Mayor Harrison joked. “Don’t look so worried. This house was built in 1911. It’s weathered two hurricanes, a flood and a landslide. The worst that ever happened was finding those rattlesnakes in the attic.”

“Spare me the horror stories.” She held up her hand. “I heard them all from Jim a hundred times over.”

“But did he tell you about the black racers chasing him around the lake?”

A huge clap of thunder shook the mid-size brick house and momentarily caught everyone’s attention. Conversations lapsed mid-sentence and watermelon paused before it was tasted.

“I think that’s the devil coming to get you for those lies.” Peggy laughed at him. “I hope you have some hatches to batten down. This could get bad.”

“We have all of the fire department and rescue squad here. How bad could it be?”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the front door blew open and two men in rescue uniforms searched the room with frantic eyes. “Chief Morrison?” One of them called to the head of the rescue squad. “We have a problem, sir.”

Peggy migrated across the room with Tom as he joined the growing group at the door. Chief Morrison, a stocky, middle-aged man with a buzz cut, was nodding as he listened to what his men had to tell him. “The diver sent in to check out the dam isn’t responding to hails. We think he might be in trouble.”

“Why are you telling me?” Morrison was decisive. “Get somebody down there after him.”

“That’s the problem, sir. We don’t have anybody with that kind of training out here right now.”

“What about Stevens? He’s a sport diver.”

“On vacation.”

“What about Jolly?”

“Can’t get in touch with him. His wife says he’s off somewhere fishing.”

“Let’s not stand here arguing, son. That man could be drowning.” Morrison called his men together. “Get the rescue boats. We might need to call in the county squad.”

“If I could make a suggestion.” Peggy stepped out from behind Tom. “There’s an experienced forensic diver here. I don’t know if she has her gear, but maybe she could help.”

Morrison looked at her like she’d jumped off of a spaceship right there in the mayor’s house. “What are you talking about? What do you mean an expensive diver anyway? Any man who wouldn’t volunteer his time for this isn’t worth a crap anyway.”

Somehow, Ruth had managed to slide between the tight knit group of men. “I think she said forensic diver, Chief. I’ve got my gear in the van. Can I help?”

At first, Chief Morrison had a hard time even finding the top of Ruth’s silver head. When he finally located her, he stared then nodded. “Okay. Let’s get down there. We’ll have to take the service road that leads to the dam.”

“Who’s down there this year, Chief?” one of the rescue workers asked.

“I don’t know. They don’t tell me who United Metals wants to send in or when they send him in. Let’s worry about that after we find him.”

Ruth turned to Peggy. “Will you come too? If something bad has happened, it might be good to have a second opinion.”

“I don’t know a thing about underwater rescue, Ruth. But I’ll come along if you want me to be there.”

“I’ll come too, Professor,” Stephanie volunteered. “Paul is a Charlotte police officer. Maybe he could come too.”

The Chief nodded. “The more the merrier. Let’s get out of here. That man can’t hold his breath all day. You two, go with Healy. You,” he pointed to Ruth, “let’s get your gear. You can ride with me.”

“I’ve got my diving gear too,” Stephanie said. “It will only take me a minute to get it.”