Garden of Death

by Karin Kaufman

  “Anything like this?” I asked.

  “I don’t think . . .” Julia frowned in concentration. “I’m not sure. Some of the gardens in the contest had plants with purple flowers, pretty, dangly ones like this, but I don’t remember berries. But I wasn’t looking, Rachel. I was seeing the whole picture”—she spread her hands—“not individual plants. We could ask Stella. I bet she knows the common and Latin names of every plant we saw.”

  “We can’t ask any of them right now,” I said. “One of them—Stella, Allegra, Valerie, Lucas, or Doyle—put those berries on Caroline’s tart. Just hers, no one else’s. Did Valerie make the tarts?”

  Julia laughed. “No. I complimented her on them, told her how pretty they were, and she said she couldn’t take credit for them. She never cooks and never bakes. Not so much as a Christmas cookie.”

  “Holly,” I said. “Of course! That’s why Valerie was at the bakery yesterday. You didn’t see her pick up anything?”

  “I was leaving as she was coming in.”

  Our mutual friend and Finch Hill Road neighbor, baker extraordinaire Holly Kavanagh, owned Holly’s Sweets, the best bakery in northern Colorado. I’d seen her small fruit tarts before—and I’d bought them on occasion, along with my weekly supply of cream puffs. No wonder I’d shamelessly scarfed them at the party. I should have recognized her deft hand. The woman was a wonder with pastry.

  “We’ll ask Holly tomorrow if Valerie ordered the tarts. Sunday’s her one day off, so I don’t want to bother her,” I said.

  “Agreed. So what do we do now?”

  “Appleton Garden Center is open on Sundays in the summer.” I checked my watch. “It’s five. They close at six.”

  Julia was already up and heading for my back door. “Why are we going?”

  “The owner is a genius with plants,” I said, grabbing my car keys. “If anyone knows about cultivating belladonna, he does.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Julia and I followed Jacob Horning through Appleton’s main greenhouse, threading our way around tables and water-fountain displays until we reached Horning’s office at the far end. He pulled a book from his overstuffed shelves, found what he wanted, and held it open for us. “This is belladonna,” he said. “Deadly nightshade, they call it. It’s not a bad-looking landscape plant. It’s a shame it’s poisonous.”

  The photo was larger and clearer than what I’d shown Julia on my laptop, but even so, she didn’t recognize the plant.

  “When does it bloom?” I asked him.

  Jacob extended a calloused hand toward a pair of metal chairs, inviting Julia and me to sit, and he settled on the edge of his desk. “All summer long,” he began. “Starting in June and possibly through September, depending on whether we get one of those early cold snaps. It’s a perennial, so it can easily grow to three feet high, and I’ve seen it go to five feet when it’s in a good location. It doesn’t like things too dry or sunny, so it does better in the East, but I’ve seen it grown in Colorado with success. Give it some shade, more moisture.”

  “People grow belladonna on purpose?” Julia said. “Is it legal?”

  Jacob chuckled. “It’s perfectly legal, and yes, some folks grow it on purpose. Usually ones interested in herbal medicines.”

  “When you say ‘herbal,’ do you mean the leaves?” I asked.

  “Not just the leaves. Every bit of the plant—leaves, roots, and berries—and it’s not just homeopaths who prescribe it. Belladonna extract is used in eye drops for eye operations, for controlling Parkinson’s tremors, for asthma attacks, and so on. Many, many uses. Still, it’s darn poisonous, and I would advise any amateur to stay away from it.”

  “What about the berries?” I asked. “Would they be ripe in July?”

  “Oh, sure. I’ve seen green berries, mature berries, and flowers on a plant all at once.”

  “Do you know anyone who grows belladonna?”

  “No, and I don’t sell it. Too many kids come through here. You know how they are—always putting things in their mouths. What’s all this about, Rachel? I know you. You’re a rose lover.”

  “Yes, roses and peonies.”

  “Starting an herbal garden?” His dark eyebrows arched as he waited for me to reply.

  “No, I just needed some information.”

  “This has to do with some detective work you’re up to and you can’t tell me.”

  “Not right now, Jacob. Sorry.”

  “Not to worry.” He slapped his knees and stood. “Any other questions?”

  I rose. “One more. Do you know what the berries taste like? I mean, are they bitter? Would someone notice a nasty taste if they bit into one?”

  “I’ve never eaten them, but I’ve read that the ripe berries are sweet. Most of the accidental poisoning in this country is a result of children eating them. They’re out for a hike with their parents, see the berries, put them in their mouths. All it takes is a couple berries, and with their smaller bodies, they’re gone.

  “Awful. How many berries to kill an adult?”

  “Depends on your health. If you have a heart or lung condition, one or two could do it.”

  “What about four or five?” Julia asked.

  “You’re a goner,” Jacob said.

  Julia grimaced.

  I took a last look at the photo in the book. “They look like huckleberries. If I didn’t know better, I’d eat them.”

  “That’s the danger,” Jacob said. “Pretty, sweet berries.”

  “If those berries were mixed with blueberries or huckleberries—”

  “Unless you knew your belladonna, you’d be none the wiser,” Jacob finished.

  Julia and I thanked him and exited his office. On the way out, as I deliberately avoided walking past the on-sale rose bushes, I saw Allegra Jones by the register, buying what looked like blue salvia. “She’s not grieving,” I said to Julia. “She said she was wrecked.”

  “None of them really liked each other,” Julia reminded me.

  I slowed my steps until Allegra was out the door, then followed her to her car.

  “Well, hello,” she said, turning as I approached. “Rachel, right? And Julia.” She opened her hatchback and nestled her five-gallon pot in a cardboard box in the cargo area. “So you two are out plant hunting too.”

  “I was looking at some rose bushes on sale,” I replied. It was nice when I could skirt a question without actually, literally lying.

  “It’s too hot to plant rose bushes,” Allegra said. “But salvia”—she gestured at the pot—“it likes the heat.”

  “It’s so sad about Caroline,” Julia said. “She was so gracious to me. Inviting me to be a judge, being so patient. I can’t believe she just went like that. In the blink of an eye.”

  I shot a glance at Julia. My friend was getting way too good at this.

  “Beats lingering,” Allegra said.

  “The police interviewed you?” I asked.

  “Yeah, Chief Gilroy. He’s a looker, isn’t he? I’d be just fine with him questioning me all day long.”

  “He’s taken,” Julia said.

  I smiled. “Were you and Caroline close?”

  “Not so much.” Allegra scratched her hawk-like nose and put a hand on her hip.

  Nose and hip—two clear tells. She didn’t want to talk about Caroline, and it wasn’t because she was lamenting the woman’s death.

  “I thought you were friendly,” Julia said.

  “I mean, you know, I’m not super angsty, if that’s what you mean.”

  Time to shake things up and get some real answers, I thought. “Did you know Caroline was just hired to do Lucas’s TV job?”

  Allegra’s head jerked. “That wasn’t supposed to get out. How did you know?”

  “She’s a detective,” Julia said proudly.

  “I’m not a detective.”

  “Well, she hears things,” Julia said.

  “Did Lucas know?” I asked.

  “Oh, my word,” Allegra moaned, putti
ng a hand to her cheek. “I’m not sure. Caroline may have told him at the party. I asked her to wait because it wasn’t the time or place, but she was so excited.”

  “It sounds to me like she was trying to rub it in,” Julia said.

  “No, she wasn’t, really, truly.”

  “Telling him at his awards party?” I said.

  “Caroline was genuinely excited,” Allegra said, “and she felt bad for Lucas, but I’m only guessing she told him. I wasn’t there. But she said, you know, she was going to tell him. That’s what she said. Her feeling was she should talk to him before the TV people did on Monday. That’s not rubbing it in, that’s being upfront.”

  She had a minor point. “When you say you weren’t there, what do you mean? Did you see them talking at the party?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know what . . .” Allegra’s voice trailed off. “Wait a minute. Why are you so interested in this?”

  “I’m interested,” Julia said. “Caroline’s the one who invited me to be a judge.”

  Allegra shut and locked her hatchback. “I don’t guess it matters now. She was trying to soften the blow. But yeah, I think she told him. I was watching them when they were in the kitchen. Anyway, Lucas looked like she was telling him. He wasn’t behaving like a happy camper should.”

  “When was this?” I asked.

  “A few minutes before she started screaming. Maybe five minutes?”

  “So after Caroline told him he’d lost his job to her, Lucas fixed her a drink?” I said. “I saw her come out the back door with a drink in her hand.” The whole scenario was far-fetched.

  “Maybe he fixed himself a drink and she took it,” Allegra said with a wry smile.

  “That would be an odd thing to do,” Julia said.

  Allegra held out her remote and beeped open the driver’s door. “Funny thing is,” she said, jangling her keys, “I’m the one who could use a drink. Caroline was going to take me with her. I was going to be her assistant while we shot the segments and take over for her whenever she couldn’t do a shoot. So, yeah, it’s selfish of me, but I was about to take a big step toward my dream, and now it’s gone.”

  I planted a sympathetic expression on my face. “I’m sorry. When did Caroline tell you she was hiring you as an assistant?”

  “We started talking about it weeks ago. If she got the job, she would take me with her.”

  “Were the TV producers okay with that?”

  “They said she could bring anyone she wanted.” Allegra hauled herself into the front seat and stuck the key in the ignition. “Know what? Sometimes I think Caroline was the only sane one among them. I’m going to miss her. Gotta go, guys. Oh hey, that’s Stella over there.”

  I followed her line of sight to the door of a small hoop greenhouse, where Stella Patmore was talking with a man I took to be one of Appleton’s employees.

  “She keeps pestering the owner for a job,” Allegra said. “It’s insane. I don’t think she really wants to work here.”

  I put my hand on Allegra’s door. “Do you know why Caroline was against Stella being a judge this year?”

  Allegra seemed genuinely bewildered. “I didn’t know she felt that way. She didn’t say anything to me. In a weird way, Stella’s a great judge. It’s kinda surprising. I mean, considering. In spite of everything, she has a modern sense of style. Seriously, though, who told you that?”

  Julia took a step forward. “Doyle told me.”

  Allegra sighed and threw back her head. “What a jerk.”

  “So it’s not true?” I asked.

  “I think Caroline would’ve told me.”

  “She didn’t tell the others about her plans to hire you as her assistant,” Julia pointed out.

  “That’s different,” Allegra said. A nanosecond later, an expression of doubt passed over her face. “Anyway, yeah, I have to go.”

  “Thanks for talking to us,” I said. I let go of her door and backed up. As I watched Allegra drive from the parking lot, I realized she had been certain of Caroline’s honesty and goodwill, and Julia’s simple, commonsense observation had cracked that certainty.

  “She’s wondering now if Caroline lied to her,” I said.

  “As well she should,” Julia said. “I was sure Allegra didn’t know Caroline got the job.”

  Allegra not only knew that Caroline had succeeded in getting the job, I thought, but she’d been counting on her getting it. Planning for it. I wondered if Lucas had suspected their collaboration. Yet Allegra had wanted Lucas’s job for herself. Being Caroline’s assistant would never have been enough for her—except, perhaps, as a stepping stone.

  “Julia, who told you that Allegra applied for the TV job? As the main host, not Caroline’s assistant.”

  “Lucas did.”

  I was gobsmacked. How did he know? “When?”

  “Today, at his house. I was in his kitchen—you were off looking at the roses, and I needed a napkin. I said something about Allegra following his lead one day and having her own garden show. He sniffed the way he does and told me she was already trying to take over. He said she was talking to his producers and nipping at his heels.”

  “His producers must have told him.”

  “He didn’t seem angry about it. He was amused. Like Allegra was a child trying to do a grownup thing.”

  “Then he wasn’t threatened by her. But Caroline was a different matter.”

  I looked back to the hoop greenhouse where I’d seen Stella talking to an employee, but she was no longer there. “We need to talk to Lucas first,” I said. “What excuse can we use to go back to the Sieglers’ house?”

  “Why don’t we take them a small flowering plant? Their special day was ruined.”

  “Not to mention Caroline’s day. I was thinking of something that didn’t cost money.”

  “Roses then,” Julia said.

  “No, I draw the line at buying them a rose bush.”

  “I meant a bouquet of roses, silly. While you were looking at the rose bushes, I was looking at the cut flowers. It’s a perfectly appropriate gift.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “They’re lovely,” Valerie said, taking the bouquet of yellow roses from Julia. She invited us inside and led us into her kitchen.

  “I hope we’re not interrupting dinner,” I said.

  “I’m not much of a cook,” Valerie said with a small chuckle. “We’re going to the Porter Grill later.”

  I’d forgotten what Julia had told me: Valerie never cooked and never baked. “What about those delicious fruit tarts?”

  “Those are from Holly’s Sweets. I ordered them specially. I couldn’t make something like that if I tried, and I have no desire to try.”

  Julia shot a glance my way.

  “When did you buy them?” I asked.

  “Yesterday, why? I’m sure Holly can make you some. Give her a couple days’ notice.”

  “This is a weird question, but did you bring the tarts straight home?”

  “I put them in my refrigerator the minute I got home. Holly can tell you what to do.” Valerie bent to dig through the cabinet under her sink. She pulled out a vase and stuck it under the faucet, smiling and humming as she filled it with water.

  Considering she’d lost a friend a few hours earlier, she was strangely chipper.

  Julia had noticed too. “You’re feeling better now, aren’t you?” she said, framing the matter generously.

  Valerie turned off the faucet, plopped the bouquet in a vase, plastic wrap and all, and turned to us. “You probably think I’m heartless, but after everyone left, Lucas told me that Caroline had taken his television job. Right out from under his feet. Swooped in and stole it from him. Our so-called friend.”

  “We heard,” I said. I had already decided to tell her the truth about what we knew. There were two problems with lying. The first? It was lying. The second? You had to remember the lies you told and who you told them to.

  “I had a sneaking suspicion people knew,” Valerie said
. “Our little group doesn’t keep secrets well. I wonder how many of them were happy to see Lucas lose his job.”

  “Oh, I don’t think anyone was happy,” Julia said.

  “Caroline was,” Valerie said.

  “But only to get the job,” Julia said, “not to take it from Lucas.”

  Valerie gave Julia a dimpled grin. “You see the best in everyone, Julia. You’re so sweet.”

  “I’m not that sweet.”

  “Did Caroline break the news to Lucas during your party?” I asked.

  Valerie’s dimples vanished. “Yes, she did. And then she had the gall to make him fix her a celebratory drink. Come with me.” She left the roses by the sink, took us to her living room, told us to sit, and then called up the stairs for Lucas. Seconds later he trotted down the stairs, sniffing, blinking, and pushing up his sliding glasses. I steeled myself.

  “Would you tell Julia what you told me about Caroline?” Valerie said.

  “Should I?”

  “I think you should. Julia’s going to be a judge next year.”

  “Am I?” Julia said.

  “Doyle wants you,” Valerie said matter-of-factly. “And I don’t want you thinking badly of us. To be perfectly honest, we’re going to enter our garden again, and I’m not going to sit still while rumors are being spread about us.”

  Lucas protested. “But it’s all right now, Valerie. Let it go. I still have the job. Who else could the station go with?”

  “Doyle?” Julia suggested.

  Lucas left the foot of the stairs and came swooping into the living room. “Doyle Charming? Tell me you’re joking. That man would fall asleep halfway through taping. What did he tell you? Did they promise him anything?”

  Valerie laid her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Calm down, Lucas. They’re not going to hire him. He’s seventy-four.”

  Lucas blinked, scrunched his nose, and ran his hand across his mouth. “You’re right. What a business. I ask myself if it’s worth it.”