Fruit of the Poisoned Tree (13 page)

“See? I can’t please you.” He chuckled and glanced out the window at the snow-whitened landscape. “Let it go, Peggy. It’ll work out one way or the other. I’m sure the family is all right without the money. Can I give you a lift home?”

Angry with the protocol, not the man, Peggy took him up on his offer. They drove carefully through the streets filled with cars rushing to get home. The wet Carolina snow made the branches of the oaks that lined Queens Road hang down low enough to scrape the tops of trucks that went by. There was already a layer of ice coating the snow that made the street slippery.

Al stopped twice to help drivers who skidded off the road. One of them he called in as an accident since the Honda slammed into the side of a parked Toyota. Watching him help people in the street brought back fond memories of John doing the same thing. Sometimes she was impatient with him when stopping to help made them late for a party or some other function. It was funny how time and sorrow could change frustration to a loving memory.

She got out quickly when Al finally pulled his Ford Explorer into her drive. He helped her get the bike out of the back. They could hear Shakespeare’s excited barking inside the house, followed by the sound of something crashing and breaking. “Sounds like that dog of yours is going crazy in there.”

“He’s having some adjustment issues.” Peggy winced as something else crashed.

Al laughed. “Is that what they call it now? My mom called it an ‘outside’ dog. See you later, Peggy. Stay warm. I’ll let you know what happens with the Lamonte case. Thanks for talking to me.”

“You’re welcome. I know none of this is your fault. I hope I didn’t sound that way. Thanks for the ride. I won’t ask you to stay since I know Mary is probably waiting at home for you with hot chocolate.”

“You got it.” He grinned as the snow covered the top of his brown knit hat. “The kind with the little marshmallows, too. Take care. I’ll talk to you later.”

Peggy let herself in the house. Shakespeare had managed to pull down a set of front drapes that were from the original decorator of the house as well as break a Dave the Slave pottery jug her mother gave her for her wedding. “I think you might need more than obedience classes when my mother finds out you broke an eighty thousand dollar piece of pottery. Go lie down! Bad dog!”

She was trying to rehang the pale green drapes when the doorbell rang. It was Steve, his arms full of plastic shopping bags. “I just got back. I’m loaded up with munchies, tearjerker movies, and batteries for the flashlight. I thought we could hide from the storm together. You have plenty of fireplaces, and all of yours work, presumably. None of mine can draw smoke. The contractor says they need cleaning out.”

“Hello to you, too! You’ve made your case.” Her smile was huge as she took a few of the white plastic bags from him and rummaged through them. “White chocolate cheesecake and what DVD is this, hmm,
Ghost
? I
love
Patrick Swayze! You know the way to a woman’s heart.”

“They always say that about men. That thing about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach? But I know it’s true about women, too.” He produced a container of dipping chocolate and a quart of strawberries. “I tried to think of everything.” He followed her through the trail of debris toward the kitchen to stow the goodies. “Looks like Shakespeare has been playing with your china.”

“Let’s not talk about him right now. It will ruin my mellow mood.” She put the strawberries into the refrigerator, and he put his arms around her. She turned around and kissed him. “I hope I have something to eat for dinner, or we’re just going to be eating a lot of junk food all night.”

“That’s what bad weather is for. You’re from the South. You know that. Who wants to eat what’s good for them on a night like this?” He kissed her. “I don’t care anyway. I’ve got you to keep me warm.”

“That and my working fireplaces, right?”

“Those were just an excuse.” He kissed her neck and nipped at her ear. “I just needed you to let me in the front door. I knew I could convince you of anything after that. You’d be putty in my hands once you saw cheesecake and the right movie.”

She laughed as she enjoyed his warmth. “How nicely cliché of you! You sound a little like a vampire.”

“A goody-bearing vampire,” he reminded her as he lightly bit her neck. “Not the nasty, bloodsucking kind.”

Shakespeare started barking and running toward the kitchen door. “He’s been so crazy since I got back,” Peggy complained. “I thought he’d settle down by now. I hope the obedience classes help him. Otherwise my insurance agent might demand I get rid of him.” She told Steve about the broken pot.

His eyes widened with amazement. “Are you kidding me? Eighty thousand dollars for an old jug? Was it made out of gold? Why didn’t you keep it in a safe?”

A knock on the door startled them both. “Well at least he seems to be a good watchdog. He knew someone was out there before we did.” Peggy went to answer it, ignoring his questions. How did one explain the value of a pot, hand-thrown by a poetry-writing slave two hundred years ago, if it wasn’t transparent to the other person?

“Was that the old brown jug by the front door? What kind of jug costs that much money?” Steve demanded, following her. “I mean, did it have gemstones in it or something?”

Peggy had her hand on the doorknob when it opened. “The door was unlocked,” Paul explained with a frown, seeing the surprised expression on her face. “You should keep this door locked. If you won’t set the alarm system, you could at least lock the doors. Oh. Hi, Steve. How’s it going?”

“Hello Paul. How are you?” None of Steve’s disappointment at not spending the evening alone with Peggy showed in his face.

“Fine, thanks.” Peggy’s son took off his jacket and rubbed his cold hands together. “I thought I’d come over and see how things are going, Mom. I didn’t know you had company. I probably shouldn’t stay. You probably want to be alone, huh?”

“Company?” She laughed. “Don’t be silly! It’s just Steve. We were about to have some snacks. It would be wonderful if you could stay.”

“And watch a movie about vampires.” Steve’s eyebrows went up and down suggestively at Peggy behind Paul’s back.

“Sounds great!” Paul looked at them both. “I haven’t had dinner yet. Are you sure there’s enough for me?”

An instant of silence was immediately followed by assurances that he was welcome to join them. Peggy smiled at Steve. He shrugged and smiled back at her as Paul told them about his day. There would be another time for the two of them to be alone.

“I’m glad you’re off duty so you don’t have to deal with the accidents that will pile up tonight.” Peggy looked around for something that
could
be dinner. She needed to shop, something she hadn’t done since getting back from Pennsylvania. “Al stopped for a couple of them on the way back from Queens this evening.”

“What was he doing at Queens?” Paul asked as he helped himself to an overripe banana from the basket on the table.

She absently explained about what happened earlier in the day with Isabelle, her mind on other things. There was some leftover rice in the refrigerator. If she added some peppers and eggs, that might be enough for a meal. Where were those Bojangles’ biscuits she brought home?

“Between you being at the accident scene when Lamonte died and his mother asking you to go to the police, that puts you in the middle, doesn’t it?” Steve said as he helped her with the rice.

“I suppose so. Al seemed to think so anyway. But there wasn’t much I could tell him.” She glanced up at Paul, who was looking at her strangely. “Is something wrong? Have you stopped eating rice?”

“That’s pretty weird. I was lucky to get out of the precinct when I did,” Paul explained as he helped himself to a piece of cheesecake from the refrigerator. “The news about Mrs. Lamonte was coming in just as I was leaving. Five more minutes and I’d still be there. Between the weather and the unexplained death, everyone who was there will be held up all night. They called Mai in five minutes after I left.”

Peggy quit rummaging for biscuits. “What about Beth? What happened?”

“Not
that
Mrs. Lamonte, Mom. The old one. The one you’ve always called Dragon Queen.” Paul looked at her. “Didn’t you hear? Somebody found her dead at her house.”

“WHEN DID IT HAPPEN? ” Peggy waved the spatula she held as she scooped rice into a pan to fry it again. “How did she die?”

“I don’t know the details, or I’d still be there.” Paul shrugged. “Sorry. I could call Mai, if you like. I know you’re a friend of the family. Bad luck to lose two members in a less than a week, huh?”

It seemed like
more
than bad luck to Peggy. It would be different if they both died from natural causes. Of course she didn’t know about Isabelle yet. The Dragon Queen was old and frail. She could’ve had a heart attack in her grief about Park. She itched to know what happened. “No. That’s okay. I’m sure we’ll all find out tomorrow. I don’t want you to have to go in because of my curiosity. Let’s get some food and watch a movie.”

Halfway through the movie, the power flickered and went out. Paul was already asleep and snoring on the sofa. Peggy and Steve sat together in front of the fireplace. A chessboard was set between them. It was always difficult to say which of them would win the game. They were evenly matched. Steve was up one game at the moment, but Peggy knew the tide would change in her favor eventually.

“Will this cold snap hurt your plants?” Steve asked as he made a move.

“No. I have a small generator in the basement.” She examined his move and considered her own. “The power rarely stays off that long. Even after Hurricane Hugo hit here, the power was back on in a few days. I’m close to the university and the hospital. Between them, the city crews move pretty quickly.”

“Do you think the old lady was right about her daughter-in-law?” Steve sat back as he stretched his long limbs in the chair. “If anything suspicious happened to Isabelle, it could be bad for your friend, Beth.”

Peggy moved her bishop. “Since we don’t know what happened to Isabelle yet, let’s assume it wasn’t anything unusual. She was a terror, but she wasn’t healthy. What happened to Park may have been too much for even her iron constitution.” She didn’t admit that the thought of suicide crossed her thoughts. Isabelle was in a terrible state of mind. She was so alone without Park. It wasn’t impossible to imagine the old woman going that way on a cold winter’s night.

“Do you think she killed herself?” Steve suggested as he made his next move.

She looked up at him. He was very perceptive. It struck her frequently since she met him that he almost seemed psychic around her.
Had he noticed?
If so, he hadn’t said anything. “I suppose it’s possible. She didn’t have much to live for. But I really can’t imagine her doing it before she had a chance to see what happened with the investigation into Park’s death. She was aggressive about catching his killer.”

They finished the game as the fire in the hearth burned down to red coals. Peggy won. They were game for game and decided to leave it at that. The room was warm and smelled like popcorn. Steve added wood to the coals as Peggy put a blanket across her son. She looked at his sleeping face, thinking how much he still resembled his five-year-old self. He reminded her so much of John, even though people always said he looked like her.

With the portable radio playing weather updates between some old jazz music, Peggy and Steve settled in for the night together on a large green velvet love seat in front of the window that looked out on the street. The drape Shakespeare ripped down was still gone, so they could look outside. There were no cars, just the white flakes covering the trees and houses. The snow illuminated everything, making it easy to see, even without streetlights. Shakespeare came and lay down with a thud on the floor beside them.

“This is a great way to enjoy the bad weather,” Steve whispered, his arms around her.

Peggy yawned and rested her head against him. “People up North don’t know what they’re missing by carrying on.”

“Of course, if they didn’t, everyone’s lives would fall apart since they have snow almost every day over the winter.”

She smiled as she closed her eyes, listening to the steady sound of his heart. “That’s true enough. I guess we’re just lucky.”

He rested his head against hers and sighed. “I guess we are.”

 

SHAKESPEARE WAS UP AND barking at four a.m. when the power came back on and the snowplow went down Queens Road. Like a switch turned the world back on, Steve’s cell phone went off with an emergency call from the owner of a sick chow. He grabbed some coffee as it perked, kissed Peggy, and was gone.