Fruit of the Poisoned Tree (29 page)

She laughed. “I’m sorry. Beth said she was having some trouble with her cable. She can only get ESPN. Thank you for waiting for me anyway.”

“Did you get everything sorted out?” he asked as they walked out of the kitchen.

“No,” she answered briefly before they reached the others. “I wish we’d been able to come up with
any
answers for what’s happened. We just can’t figure it out. And everything points to Beth.”

David was standing in the hall with Beth and Hunter. He had his arm draped casually around Hunter’s shoulders . . . after almost knocking over the fern by the door. “We’re getting David caught up with what we discussed tonight,” Beth told her.

“I wish I could’ve been here, but I’m doing extra work until we can get in a new person at the firm.” He glanced up at Beth and frowned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Beth put her hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. I know life goes on. I can’t hide from that.”

Hunter slipped her hand through David’s arm. “I suppose we should get going. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Peggy. If you come up with anything else, let me know.”

Peggy smiled. “I will.” It was good to see Hunter with someone in her life so she didn’t have to depend on Sam for companionship. “Good night, Beth. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. If you need me for anything, call.”

“That goes for us, too,” David told her.

“We’ll be prepping for the trial,” Hunter said. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Beth. We have a lot to do.”

Steve and Peggy walked out of the house behind Hunter and David. Steve nodded at the couple, his voice a murmur near Peggy’s ear. “That happened pretty quickly, didn’t it?”

She glanced at him and smiled. “Some people said that about us, you know. I guess all relationships don’t have to take years to develop.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He opened the door to the Vue for her. “What’s next with Beth?”

She explained everything they talked about in the tiny sitting room. Maybe he’d be able to make some sense of it. “We have to find out who killed Isabelle. Whoever it was wanted to throw suspicion on Beth. If we find
that
person, I think we’ve found the person responsible for Park’s death as well.”

“You don’t think the poisoned honey was accidental? How could people control what plants their bees get honey from anyway?”

“Beekeepers are more careful than that,” she told him. “No good beekeeper would allow this to happen. They know how far their bees fly, and they’re careful about what’s allowed to grow in that area.”

“But why would someone want to kill Park
and
his mother?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t been able to think of a single reason. I considered his ex-wife. But even if she hated Park enough to kill him, what reason would she have to kill Isabelle? The two of them got along like mud and flies. She was Isabelle’s choice for Park.”

“What about money as a motive?” he suggested. “Will anyone strike it rich from this besides Beth?”

“I suppose we can assume Isabelle didn’t have time to change her will after Park’s death. That probably means that everything she had went to Park.”

“Which means it goes to Beth.”

She nodded. “That’s right.”

“Okay. What about the housekeeper?” Steve questioned. “She had the opportunity to poison Park
and
kill the mother.”

“But what would she gain?”

“Maybe just satisfaction.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. But she makes more sense as a suspect than your environmental leader from Philadelphia. I can see him killing Park. But he probably didn’t even
know
his mother.”

“I don’t know. My brain feels like it’s full of mush.” Peggy told him about the relationship she noticed between Gary Rusch and Beth.

“Do you think it relates to what happened?” he queried. “Have you said anything to her about it?”

“Not yet,” she confessed. “Some things even
I’m
reluctant to bring up.”

“You mean you’d rather
not
know,” he guessed. “I don’t blame you.”

Peggy’s cell phone rang. It was Paul. “How far are you from the house?” he asked.

“Only a few minutes. Why?” She glanced at Steve as he turned the Vue from Providence Road to Queens Road.

“They called me from burglary about twenty minutes ago,” Paul told her. “Someone broke into the house.”

“We’ll be right there.” Peggy’s heart raced as she closed her cell phone. “Someone broke into my house.”

“Was anything taken? Did they catch who did it?” Steve drove a little faster down the empty street.

“I don’t know yet. Paul’s there.” She looked out at the houses that lined the street. “I should’ve set the alarm.” She thought about Shakespeare, locked in the laundry room, and sat forward. “Can we go any faster?”

They parked on the road. There was no way to get in the drive through the bevy of police and crime scene vehicles. It looked as though every light was on in the house. Peggy pushed open the car door and ran up through the wet grass.

Her neighbor, Clarice, and her apricot poodle, Poopsie, met her halfway to the house. “Oh Peggy! Imagine something like this happening here. In
this
neighborhood. What’s the world coming to? I’m so sorry. I hope all of your valuables were insured.”

Peggy brushed by her without a word, focused on the house. Steve smiled at the woman whose hair matched the color of her poodle and patted Poopsie’s head as he ran after Peggy. Clarice continued to fret as she followed the two of them.

“Mom!” Paul waited for her at the front door. “I know this looks bad, but it could’ve been worse. These home invasions can be dangerous, too. Thank God you weren’t here.”

“What about Shakespeare?” Peggy asked immediately as she continued through the house toward the kitchen. She ignored his attempts to soften the blow for her, focused on her concern for the dog. “Have you seen him?”

“No.” Paul shook his head. “I heard him when we first got here. He’s here somewhere. Hello, Steve.”

“Hi, Paul.” Steve kept up with Peggy’s frantic pace.

“I thought she’d be worried about the antiques or her jewelry.” Paul shrugged. “Go figure.”

“Your mother’s not an ordinary person,” Steve explained with a grin.

“You noticed that, huh? I thought I’d learned to live with it. But she always manages to surprise me.”

Peggy rushed by them and finally reached the kitchen, skirting the small groups of crime scene people rummaging through her house. She opened the laundry room door, and Shakespeare jumped down from the top of the dryer. Dropping to her knees, she threw her arms around his broad neck. “Thank goodness you’re all right.” She looked around the small room. He’d knocked over detergent and fabric softener, almost made his way through the wall near the door in his quest to get at the person who broke into the house. “I wish you could talk. You probably know who did this, don’t you?”

The dog wagged his tail and licked her face, almost twisting his body around her as she stroked his head and back. She apologized to him for leaving him in the laundry room, even though it may have saved his life.

Peggy got to her feet. “I guess you might as well come out. There’s not much that hasn’t been damaged out here.”

“If you could get us the insurance list you keep in case of fire,” Paul said awkwardly. “I’ve got Crime Scene looking for whatever they can find that might help. There may be some fingerprints or some other DNA evidence that was left behind. I don’t think professionals were responsible for this. You didn’t set the alarm, did you?”

“No.” Peggy was embarrassed by her lack of responsibility. It wasn’t that she forgot to set the alarm. It was easier not to set it. No one bothered houses on Queens Road. She couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had a break-in. “Have you noticed anything specific being gone?”

“Just a few things.” Paul shrugged. “And I’m not sure if anything was taken. There must’ve been more than one of them. The place is a mess.”

“Have you gone in the basement?”

“Yeah.” He looked away. “You aren’t going to like it.”

Steve walked with her into the basement, Shakespeare staying a sedate step behind them. Paul excused himself, not wanting to see the look on his mother’s face when she realized how much of her work was ruined.

The pond was emptied. Plants and dirt were scattered everywhere. The container that was keeping the thrips and spider mites in the area with the strawberries was tossed aside. Even the plants themselves were torn up and tossed on the floor. The red berries were crushed. The French doors going to the backyard were smashed and left open to the cold night outside.

Peggy picked up a few water plants and put them back in the violated pond. The frog croaked at her from the edge. She smiled at him as she shivered. “At least you were smart enough not to run outside. I’ll have to get something up over those doors until they can be repaired.”

“I’ve got some tarps at my house. We could use those,” Steve volunteered.

“That would be great.” She tried to inflect some excitement into her voice. She really appreciated his help. It was just overwhelming to see everything so devastated. It looked more like a tornado hit there rather than a break-in.

Steve hugged her. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you clean up. There isn’t anything here that can’t be replaced. I know you have a lot of work in this, but Paul is right. At least you weren’t here. At least
you’re
all right. Shakespeare, too.”

Peggy sat down in the basement with her ruined experiments. She could hear Steve talking to someone on the stairs as he left to get the tarps. Shakespeare curled up on her feet, trying to get as close as possible.

At least you weren’t here.
The phrase kept echoing through her mind. It bothered her. Not that it was unusual for her to be gone at night. Was someone watching the house and learning her habits? She thought about Nightflyer but immediately took him off of her list. He was far too secretive to leave a mess behind. If he
did
break in, she felt sure she’d never know.

“Hi, Peggy.” Mai joined her, glancing around the basement. “I came as soon as I heard. I’m so sorry about this.”

“Thank you.” Peggy’s lips were tight with the effort it took not to cry. Everyone was right. She wasn’t hurt. Shakespeare wasn’t hurt. Everything else could be redone and replaced. “I haven’t looked upstairs yet. Is it like this?”

Mai nodded. “I’m afraid so. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a mess like this at a break-in before. It’s like it was trashed by a horde of barbarians. I don’t know how they could see what they wanted to take. It had to be kids.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Peggy got up from her chair. There was no point feeling sorry for herself. She had to move on, move through this. “I guess I should check out the important stuff.”

“I’ll walk around with you, if you like. I’m not working. Paul called me, and I wanted to be here.”

Peggy squeezed Mai’s hand. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

 

BY THE TIME PEGGY and Mai had conducted a thorough tour of the house, Al and Jonas were there. Al put his arm around her. “Sorry this happened to you, Peggy. Do you have a list of what’s missing?”

“No.” Peggy looked at him in amazement. “There’s nothing missing. At least nothing I can think of. Every room was rummaged through, but my jewelry, John’s coin collection, antiques. Nothing’s missing.”

Al exchanged glances with Jonas. “Probably just kids. Was the door forced open?”

Mai nodded. “The French doors in the basement were knocked open.”

“It’s like someone was searching for something.” Peggy looked around herself in the trashed-out television room. “Why else would someone do this but not take anything? Even kids would’ve taken something or spray painted graffiti. Something.”

“Don’t worry, Peggy.” Jonas smiled at her. “I’m sure the burglary unit will be able to give you some answers. We just wanted to check in on you after we heard the call. Sorry about your place. Do you need a hand getting things straightened up?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “But I know it’s almost impossible for you to find suspects on something like this.”

Al cleared his throat noisily. “That doesn’t mean
you
should go out and look for them.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” She laughed. “I think I’ll have my hands full here. Thanks for stopping by.”

Al lingered behind a moment while Jonas walked outside. “About the information you gave me regarding the honey.”

Peggy’s eyebrows lifted. “Yes?”

“There may be something to it. I checked out Mr. Hollings with the Dubuque Police Department. He was a lawyer working on the same case as Mr. Lamonte. He got the same gift basket at the same hotel. We’re trying to contact people at the hotel and find out where the baskets came from.”

“That’s great, Al! Thanks for telling me. And Fletcher Davis?”

“I don’t know. We can’t find the boy, for one thing. He’s impassioned, that’s for sure. He’s been arrested a dozen times for stunts he pulled. Nothing violent.”

“He’s right here in Charlotte,” Peggy informed him. “He’s staying at UNCC with Darmus Appleby.”

“And you think he seems like a killer?”

Peggy repeated what Fletcher said when she told him about Park’s death. “He was pretty cold about it.”

Al grunted. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Does that mean Beth isn’t on the suspect list anymore? Are you dropping the charges against her?”

“Not yet.” He eyed a green velvet drape that was about to fall on the floor. “Even if we do, that won’t change my mind about her killing the old lady. Even if she didn’t have a hand in what happened to her husband, it’s clear she was involved in Isabelle’s death.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous! Whoever did it
wanted
Beth to be blamed for Isabelle’s death.”