Fruit of the Poisoned Tree (28 page)

 

LUNCH WAS OVER QUICKLY with two garden lovers talking about their favorite subject. Darmus was a strict vegan who ate only vegetables, fruit, and rice. He always managed to tweak Peggy’s conscience about buying organics and not eating foods grown in areas served by slave labor or under political sanctions.

She adored him, but even at sixty-seven, he was difficult to keep up with. Born in a desperately poor farming community in South Carolina, he’d still managed to go to school and support fourteen brothers and sisters while he was growing up. He’d become politically active in Charlotte while teaching at UNCC. In the course of that time, he’d traveled around the world as a UN ambassador to hungry nations and been awarded medals by the president of the United States.

“Here he is!” Darmus hailed someone from behind her left shoulder. “Peggy, I want you to meet my friend and coconspirator, Fletcher Davis. I finally convinced him to come to Charlotte.”

Peggy turned around with a smile that quickly vanished from her face.
“You!”
she accused the young man who stood behind her.

“The lady from the rally who saved my butt,” Fletcher acknowledged her, still wearing raggedy jeans and T-shirt with a threadbare jacket that looked the same as the day she’d seen him at the hotel in Philadelphia. “How was jail?”

“Someplace I don’t want to go again, thanks.” Peggy’s brain raced.
What are the odds he’d be here with Darmus?

“That’s wonderful! I can’t believe you’ve already met!” Darmus laughed. “Fletcher is the head of a huge coalition for conservation, Peggy. It’s called Tomorrow’s Children. He’s teaching a few classes right here at Queens as well. But I suppose you already know that, eh?”

“Not really.” Peggy tried to stop frowning at Fletcher. “What brings you to Charlotte, Fletcher? Another rally?”

“No. I’m here to help Darmus with fund-raising for his garden. But we put a serious crimp in those legal eagles’ plans in Philly, didn’t we? They won’t recover for a while.”

“Someone poisoned one of those legal eagles,” Peggy told him, wanting to see his reaction. “He died.”

Fletcher’s expression didn’t change. He shrugged, his longish brown hair raking his shoulders. “Better him than the bay, right? What’s one man compared to a generation losing what’s important? Clean air and water. We
all
need that to survive.”

 

PEGGY TRIED CALLING AL again after meeting Fletcher Davis. It seemed
very
convenient to her that he happened to be at the hotel in Philadelphia
and
in Charlotte. Al didn’t answer, so reluctantly, she went about her day.

Could Fletcher be the one who gave Park the poisoned honey? He was outside his hotel room in Philadelphia and could have been running away from what he did when she got arrested trying to save him from the police. He didn’t seem upset by the idea that Park was dead. Was he fanatical enough to kill Park over the estuary?

If so, how would that tie in with Isabelle’s death? Maybe the two events
weren’t
connected, as the police believed.

She took Shakespeare out for his walk, relieved to find the laundry room intact. He still refused to eat, even when she offered him a treat. Feeling guilty, she let him stay in the kitchen with her while she checked her e-mail on her laptop. She’d heard back from the other two physicians treating the poison victims. Neither one of them knew what type of poison was involved yet. She replied, suggesting they look for the poisoned pollen and asking for more details about their patients.

There was still no word from Nightflyer. She put Shakespeare back in the laundry room despite his pitiful look and whining. She reminded him that it was his own fault. Maybe next time he’d behave better with Rue and learn something.

Steve called her on her way to the Potting Shed. She told him what happened at the bail hearing and afterward with Darmus. He offered to take her to Beth’s after the shop closed that evening. Peggy agreed quickly as she raced her bike around a car that was looking for someplace to park.

She reached the Potting Shed only a few minutes before the city was hammered by heavy rain. Shoppers hurried to shelter, some running in from the courtyard to stand near the door and wait for the shower to pass. “Hi Selena! How’s business?”

“It’s been good,” her assistant told her. “It’ll probably be slow from here on in with the rain. Why doesn’t it ever rain like this when I’m working?”

“Weren’t we just concerned about not having enough customers?” Peggy asked, checking the bills and catalogs that came in the mail.

“Yeah, but they
could
come in when
you’re
here to prove how well we’re doing.” Selena picked up her book bag and got ready to leave. “Sam and Keeley called in from that new mall over off of Harris Boulevard. They said it’s been raining there for the past two hours. They’re not getting anything done, so they’re coming in.”

“Okay. The mall will have to wait.” Peggy sighed, hoping they didn’t get backed up. As they inched closer to spring, more work was likely to come in. She might even have to hire another crew this year to help them with the landscaping. “I’ll see you later. Thanks for holding down the fort.”

Not wasting any time, Peggy gave out free catalogs to the trapped shoppers. She didn’t recognize them as regulars and decided it was a good time to promote. She was surprised when Al ran in out of the downpour, his jacket pulled over his head.

“Peggy.” He nodded to her as he took the jacket off. The look on his face reminded her of a child getting caught doing something silly. “I got your messages and thought I’d stop by.”

“Would you like some hot tea?” she asked, taking out the hot plate and the kettle for herself.

“Sure. That would be great.” He glanced at the shoppers who were huddled near the door. “A captive audience, huh?”

“Something like that. I’m sure Emil would’ve liked them more. People are more apt to buy pastries and coffee while they’re waiting than bulbs and shovels.”

He laughed. “Peggy, you’re amazing! I know your schedule. Where do you find time to examine honey between teaching and pushing shovels on unsuspecting shoppers?”

“There’s always time to do the things that are important to us.” She smiled. “John taught me that.”

“Okay. I’m a captive audience, too. Tell me what you know about the honey.”

“And a young man named Fletcher Davis.”

“Okay.” Al got comfortable in the rocking chair. “Let’s have it.”

“SO FOUR PEOPLE WERE poisoned?” Hunter raised her eyebrows. “Maybe by the same person?”

“Maybe,” Peggy cautiously agreed. “But you have to remember, I don’t have all the data in yet. Mr. Hollings’s poison has been identified. The other two haven’t been. But his jar of honey came from a different source. That makes it more difficult to trace,
definitely
more difficult to link to Park’s poisoning.”

“But that’s good for
my
case, right?” Beth sat in her colorful sitting room and looked hopefully at the other two women with her. “I mean, this proves I didn’t kill Park, doesn’t it? I’m clear of that anyway.”

“Absolutely!” Hunter was emphatic. “Having this information can make all the difference.”

Peggy wasn’t as sure. “It’s too early to tell, Beth. We haven’t made the connection yet between Park and the other three men. And there are still the charges against you for Isabelle’s death. She wasn’t killed with honey. And that
B
in her own blood was pretty convincing. That isn’t going to go away, no matter what we find out about Park’s death.”

Beth frowned, the movement puckering her forehead. “That’s true. What can we do about that?”

“We’ll have to find out who killed Isabelle.” Hunter closed her notebook and zipped it shut. “But let’s be happy with
any
victory right now. The DA is saying you killed Isabelle because you killed your husband. Taking away your motive to kill her weakens the basis of the second charge.”

“Why
would
someone want to kill Isabelle?” Peggy glanced at them. The room was a little too warm with the fire in the hearth blazing brightly. The house seemed too quiet, too empty around them. But she was glad Foxx and Reddman had a place to get away from what was happening.

She couldn’t imagine how Beth was coping with the empty house, but the DA had insisted she had to stay in her own home and not with Peggy. It didn’t make any sense to her, but Hunter’s arguments had been tossed aside like last summer’s tomatoes. “I mean, besides the obvious reasons. I assume someone would’ve killed her years ago if it was because she was a mean, arrogant old lady. Why kill her
now,
so close on the heels of Park’s death?”

Beth shrugged and burrowed more deeply into her amber-colored shawl. The bright red chair made her look smaller, paler. Her dark hair was loose on her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about it. I haven’t thought about anything else the last two days. Isabelle was harmless. Maybe she was annoying, but surely no one would kill her for that.”

“Maybe it was unrelated.” Hunter looked at them as she ramped up her thoughts. “Maybe whoever did this was going to rob her. They heard about her being alone when the press talked about Park’s death. It made her a target. They didn’t mean to kill her. It was an accident. Then after it was over, they grabbed a few trinkets, one of them being the dragon’s head from her walking stick, and ran.”

“As much as I’d like to believe that,” Peggy said, “it’s too coincidental. No one is going to believe Park died under suspicious circumstances, then his mother was attacked and wrote a
B
in her blood while she was dying, but Beth wasn’t involved. She’s my friend and I
know
she didn’t do anything wrong, but I don’t buy it. Besides, the police didn’t find anything missing
except
the dragon’s head. While that might be valuable, I’m sure she had jewelry and cash somewhere, too.”

“Then we have to find the killer’s motivation.” Hunter got to her feet and paced the room. “Why
would
someone kill Isabelle? At least in relation to Park’s death.”

“Maybe she knew something about Park’s death.” Peggy shrugged. “Maybe she was involved with the killer in some way.”

Beth was horrified. “There’s no way Isabelle would have helped
anyone
kill Park. He meant
everything
to her.”

“I’m not saying she
knowingly
did something,” Peggy corrected. “But she might not have realized what was happening.”

Hunter nodded. “Like what?”

“Maybe if we understood why someone gave Park poisoned honey, we’d understand why Isabelle was killed.” Peggy shifted in her chair.

“Why not give Isabelle poisoned honey, too?” Beth questioned.

“Maybe she wasn’t as easy to get to as Park with that basket at the hotel.” Hunter stopped pacing. “Let’s say it was this man from the environmental group who wanted to kill Park because of the estuary issue. If he’s here in Charlotte, he had opportunity to kill Isabelle, too.”

“But why would he?” Peggy queried. “She didn’t have anything to do with the law firm representing the oil company.”

“What about Alice then?” Hunter changed suspects. “She obviously didn’t like the old lady.”

“But why would she kill Park?” Beth wondered with a cry in her voice. “He was always generous with her.”

Hunter shrugged, her forehead furrowed. “To torture Isabelle before she killed her?”

Peggy could see from the look on Beth’s face that this conversation was torturing
her.
Besides, they were just going around in circles. There was some piece missing in the puzzle. Something they weren’t taking into consideration. “It’s late.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to go. I can only imagine what trouble Shakespeare has managed to get into. We’ll have to keep thinking about this and try to come up with some other answers that make sense. It would be nice if we could find the dragon’s head. That might give us Isabelle’s killer.”

Beth rose lightly to her feet. “I appreciate you coming anyway. Steve, too. I’ll try to think of anything that might relate to this. Right now, my brain is on overload. I just need to sleep for a while.”

The doorbell rang as Peggy was going to get Steve out of the kitchen. She tried to get him to sit with them, but he said he felt the three women needed the time together alone. “Ready to go?” she asked as Beth answered the door.

Steve shut off the small TV on the counter. “Yes! Thank God you came for me. I hate football.”