Fruit of the Poisoned Tree (33 page)

“You lucked out with your friend,” Emil said, watching the news as Peggy was getting her things together. “Looks like they got some other people in mind now for those murders.”

She agreed with him and thanked him for the use of his shop as she always did. She didn’t gossip with him about anything that had happened. It was still too fresh, too painful for her to do anything but mull it over in her mind.

A shipment of hyacinths, daffodils, and tulips waited for her at the Potting Shed. Their bright colors and sweet smells brought the heart of spring into the shop. It was enough to lift her spirits, even though she sold out by midafternoon.

Peggy closed up the shop after a flurry of last-minute phone orders for plants and services. She looked at her spreadsheet for February with satisfaction. The Potting Shed was doing all right. It still terrified her sometimes to be in business for herself. A lifetime of regular paychecks left her unprepared for the fitful irregularities of money a shopkeeper could expect.

Business was slow after Christmas, but things were starting to pick up. If the trend continued, she would definitely give up her place at Queens. It was going to take some faith and courage, but she felt it was the right thing to do. The Potting Shed was getting more and more demanding. She didn’t want to shortchange her students either. It had always been her goal to narrow her focus down to her botanical projects and the shop. Maybe spring would be the right time.

Peggy spoke with Beth for a few minutes before leaving the shop. She was glad to hear Beth was as disgusted by Gary Rusch’s advances as she was. “I didn’t want to mention it. I thought maybe . . . but it was none of my business. Park
did
fool around with Cindy after all.”

“Please!” Beth begged, “Give me credit for good taste! If I was going to fool around, it wouldn’t be with him. And it wouldn’t be on the heels of my husband’s death. I loved Park even though he was unfaithful. That’s why I took him back. I really wanted our marriage to work.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to think.”

“I didn’t either,” Beth admitted. “And I was scared at first to say anything. But I warned him off. There won’t be anymore of
that
going on!”

Peggy was glad to hear it. When Beth said she had to go, Peggy put the phone down feeling better about her friend. She bundled up and went out into the night.

With cold winds blowing down the dark streets of Charlotte, there were few people lingering after work uptown. The smell of fresh bread baking told her someone was working in one of the restaurants. But all she could see were empty windows and closed doors as she rode past the buildings between her and home. She kept her head down against the biting wind and pedaled as fast as she could.

Shakespeare was barking, and the telephone was ringing inside the house as she stepped up to the door with her mail in hand. She shivered as she put the key in the lock. For just a moment, she wondered if she’d find the house ransacked again. But Isabelle’s killer was behind bars. She was just being paranoid.

She forced herself to finish the act of opening her front door. Her emotional side argued with her logical side. She couldn’t go on standing there, dreading what she might find. And the alarm was set. No one was in there. The house had to be as she left it.

With the door open, the alarm system added its warning sound to the clamor of phone and dog. Peggy quickly turned off the alarm and closed the door behind her. She reached the phone and answered it breathlessly. “Hello?”

“Hello, sweet Pea! We haven’t heard from you in a while. Thought I’d give you a call and see what’s going on up there in the big city.”

Peggy dropped her backpack on the table and collapsed into a chair near the door. “Hello, Daddy. I’m doing fine. Staying busy. How’s Mama?”

“She’s doing good. Had that surgery on her ankle a few weeks back. She’s been a little ornery, but I just make her stay out on the porch when she gets that way. Got a good crop of broccoli and some sweet potatoes for you. I’ll bring ’em up when we come.”

“When you come?” Peggy sat up and opened her eyes. “Are you coming to visit?”

“Of course. You can’t seem to find the time to get down here. So even though Aunt Rachel and Uncle Stripey can’t make it, Mama and I and Cousin Melvin and Aunt Mayfield are coming up to see you in April.”

“What about planting, Daddy? Won’t you need to plant in April?”

“I took care of that, angel. I hired a few boys to help me out this year. I’ll get them started at the first of the month, so by mid-April we should be able to spend a few weeks up there with you. You’ll have to give your mama and Aunt Mayfield a place on the ground floor of that big old house of yours. Neither one of them can get up those grand stairs. But otherwise, nothing special. I know you have grits in your cupboard. That’s all we need. Well, maybe some chicken would be nice, too. But we could always visit the Colonel for that!”

Peggy digested the information. She panicked just
knowing
her parents were coming. They hadn’t been there since John’s funeral. She always tried to be the one to visit
them.

Aunt Mayfield was a difficult, complaining woman at best. Cousin Melvin had sleep apnea and fell asleep at dinner, in the bath, and during conversations. He snored loudly enough to be heard from one end of the house to another, and she didn’t even want to think about how bad his feet smelled.

“Are you still there, pumpkin?”

“I’m here, Daddy. That sounds great. Maybe Paul can get some time off, and we can all do some sightseeing or something.” She was careful to keep any doubt out of her voice. At least this way she had time to prepare for them coming.

“Don’t put yourself out, Margaret. We’re just coming to see you and Paul. Nothing fancy. What’s that sound?”

Peggy listened to Shakespeare’s alternate barking and howling. “That’s my dog. He’s waiting for his supper.”

“Got yourself a beagle? They make a good hunting dog. You remember Maisy. She could track anything. Remember that time your mama lost her car keys? Maisy found them.”

“Shakespeare is a Great Dane, Daddy. He doesn’t track much.”

“Great Dane, huh? What kind of name is that? No wonder he doesn’t track. You have to give him a proper name for a hunting dog. Call him Skippy or Yeller. Then he’ll track for you.”

She sighed. “I don’t want him to track anything, Daddy.”

“He’s not gonna be much of a hunting dog if he can’t track, Margaret.”

“I don’t really want to take him hunting. I don’t hunt. I’m a vegetarian, remember, Daddy?”

“Thought you’d grown out of that by now. Oh well. It still wouldn’t hurt you to give that dog a decent name.”

Peggy didn’t argue with him. “I’m looking forward to seeing you and Mama anyway. We’ll have a good time while you’re here.”

“Okay then. I’ll talk to you later. Give Paul a hug for us.”

“I will. Kiss Mama for me. Bye, Daddy.” She put down the phone and threw herself back in the chair. Her family was coming up to see her. The house was dirty. They hated Charlotte. She knew they’d try to convince her to come back home with them as they had after John’s death. And what about Steve? They were bound to notice that he was younger than her. And what would they think about the Potting Shed?

Peggy got to her feet and went to rescue Shakespeare. She took him out for a walk, then fed him and made a grilled cheese sandwich for herself. He still refused to eat. He lay down beside his food and groaned, looking up at her every few minutes. She tried to get him to eat by offering individual pieces of food. He covered his eyes with his paws.

Glad that he had another obedience class tomorrow, Peggy sat down at the kitchen table to eat her sandwich and drink her sassafras tea. She made it with plenty of sugar and milk until it was pink rather than red. It was the way her mother made it when Peggy was growing up. That thought brought on a whole group of issues she’d have to face when her parents came to visit.

Refusing to face those problems right away, Peggy watched the news for a while, then went upstairs to change clothes and check on her plants. Her Antares water lily was barely alive. She wasn’t sure if it was going to survive. Her experiment with the strawberries was completely destroyed, and she had mites on all of her plants. She was probably going to have to spray for them since she couldn’t use complementary planting to control them in that environment.

Sighing over the loss of time and her companions, she spent two hours trying to straighten up the mess and check on all of her plants. The frog helped himself to some of the mites, and she thanked him. “If I had a few more like you, I could clean them up pretty easy.”

She went back upstairs to her room and showered. Shakespeare was already in her bed when she came out. He hadn’t eaten anything or ripped anything apart, so she collapsed in bed beside him. His coat felt smooth and warm under her hand as she petted him. Her eyes were just closing when her computer made a loud beeping noise. Immediately, she jumped out of bed and checked her e-mail.

Nightflyer sent her an instant message:
“r u busy? if not, let’s play!”

Peggy almost didn’t go. He’d ignored
her
summons. But curiosity finally won over impatience. She sat down in her chair and went to the new chess site. When she was logged on, she found Nightflyer waiting for her.

“I’m ready. What happened to you? Are you okay?”
Peggy made her opening gambit: pawn to e4

He returned: pawn to c5.
“I’m fine. Just a little trip I had to take. Sorry I couldn’t let you know. I was off-line.”

“Don’t you know?
” She moved her pawn to e5.

“I have a few ideas.”
Knight to d5.
“How is your friend doing?”

“Beth? She’s going to be fine. The police have made arrests for Park and Isabelle’s murders.”
Knight to c3.

“The conservationist and the housekeeper. I know. But I don’t think Davis is responsible. Do you?”
Nightflyer moved his pawn to f6.

Peggy shrugged and moved her pawn to d4.
“He was at the hotel. He had access to the gift baskets. He had motive. It makes sense.”

“He wouldn’t. If Fletcher Davis is passionate enough about his cause to poison four men, why not all of them? Hotel videotapes show he had access to all of the baskets. But they don’t show him touching all of them.”
Bishop to g7.

“He could’ve tampered with the videotapes.
” Bishop to e3.
“Or maybe he didn’t have time to poison the others. Maybe he panicked.”

“That’s possible. Or he didn’t do it.”
Knight to d4. Nightflyer took Peggy’s pawn.

“Then who did?”
Knight to f6.

Peggy considered the questions as she poised to make her next move.
“Maybe I’m too close to this. Everyone involved is like family. Beth is free now. The cases against Mrs. Godwin and Davis are strong. Why stir the pot because of a few unanswered questions?”
She finally moved her queen to e2.

“That makes it difficult. But you’re a good researcher. You can’t quit until all the answers are there.”
Queen to a5.

Peggy changed the subject.
“You seem preoccupied tonight. Is anything wrong?”

“Safe? What’s going on?”
She asked him.
“Can I help in some way?”

Nightflyer logged off, and the phone rang. She glanced at the clock on the computer. It was almost midnight. He was calling to explain the rest.

Instead, it was Beth’s parents in Salisbury. “We’ve been trying to contact Beth since ten when the kids went to bed,” her father told Peggy. “She’s been calling every night at ten to tell them good night. We had a time getting Foxx and Reddman to sleep. I don’t think it’s our phone line.”

“Have you tried her cell phone?” Peggy asked.

“Yes. We’ve been calling her all night on both phones. We even e-mailed her.”

“Let me see what I can do. I’ll let you know as soon as I get in touch with her.”

“Thanks, Peggy. We’re coming down there in the morning with the kids since this thing seems to be over. I know there’s nothing wrong with her. Maybe she went out.”