Death In The Garden

by Caroline Clemmons

  He frowned at me. “Are you insinuating Aunt Kay had anything to do with this? She’s our aunt.”

  Chelsea nodded at me, as if she’d questioned the same thing.

  Wondering if I was ruining an opportunity, I said, “Actually, Devlin, if you’ll excuse me saying so, she’s your aunt, but not Sam’s. She’s no blood relation to him at all.”

  His voice raised. “Listen here, I don’t like you even suggesting she had anything to do with this. She’s always treated us equally, loves Sam as much as she does me.”

  Bootsy patted his shoulder. “Calm down, son. They’re just trying to help. We haven’t been able to come up with anything on our own.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe Kay would do this. It has to be someone else.”

  Hoping to placate Devlin, I said, “I’ll admit it’s a stretch to think Ms Douglas would be involved. I was just trying to play devil’s advocate.”

  Devlin exhaled. “Right, right. Lord knows Mom and I haven’t been able to think of who did it or how—or why.”

  I asked, “So, last night, you stayed downstairs with Ms Douglas after Sam went up?”

  “Yeah. It was about eleven, I guess.” Devlin looked at Chelsea and frowned. “Sam came in early from a date. Seemed upset, so Aunt Kay made us the chocolate. After he went up, I had another cup while Aunt Kay washed up. Then we both went upstairs.”

  Tears glistened in Chelsea’s eyes. “We went out, but we argued. I asked him to take me home.” She grabbed a tissue from the dispenser on the end table and dabbed at her eyes. “He promised to call me this morning, b-but he didn’t call. He couldn’t.” She shook her head and sobbed.

  I handed Chelsea another tissue. “Well, this isn’t getting us anywhere. It’s probably only upsetting you when we intended to bring cheer.”

  “I’m glad you’ve come.” Bootsy was crying too, “I’m so worried Devlin will be next. Who could have this horrible vendetta against our family?”

  “Mom, it’ll be all right.” But Devlin’s worried features didn’t give his statement much credibility. Either he was genuinely worried, or he was a good actor. But which was he?

  I said, “I’m sure the police will figure this out before anyone else can be harmed.”

  “Dear God in heaven, I hope so,” he said.

  Bootsy stood and slid an arm around Chelsea. “It’s time for us to see Sam for five minutes. Look, Chelsea, this hospital seems pretty informal. Why don’t you step in and talk to him? Maybe hearing your voice would help wake him. I’ve heard that people in a coma are aware of what’s going on around them.”

  “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Chelsea hurried from the room and through the swinging doors into ICU.

  I touched Bootsy’s arm. “You’re a nice person to let her go in. She’s been a nervous wreck since she heard about Sam.”

  “I think Sam cares for her. Maybe hearing her voice really will help him.” She clutched at my hand when I tried to step away.

  I sympathized with Bootsy. She must be terrified to have lost her husband and now have her son barely escape death. At least, I hoped the attempt on Sam’s life was unsuccessful. I said, “This must have been a horrible day for both of you, especially so soon after...” I shrugged and didn’t finish.

  Devlin paced the room. “We’ve about gone crazy. It’s absurd to think Sam would try to kill himself. But who’d do such a thing to him?” He stopped and looked at me accusingly. “The police will probably think it’s me.”

  Ah, so he’d heard about my policeman. “They’ll have to question everyone. I know he didn’t do this himself, but I don’t understand how he could have been given sleeping pills without knowing it.”

  Bootsy said, “No, they have to be swallowed. When one’s stuck in my throat, there’s a bitter taste that wouldn’t be easy to hide.”

  “Unless someone made a solution of them and injected Sam after he’d fallen asleep.” Devlin said, “That’s what the hot chocolate was for, to make us sleepy.”

  Bootsy nodded. “And once he’s asleep, Sam sleeps so soundly it would have been easy for someone to slip into his room.”

  “I suppose you have a security system and the alarm was set?”

  “We’ve had one all along, but didn’t always use it.” Bootsy shuddered. “Since Vance’s, um, I wouldn’t, couldn’t stay there without it.”

  I didn’t blame her. “Does everyone who works at the house have the code?”

  “The housekeeper does, but she has quarters off the kitchen. Not the maids, because they live elsewhere. Kay and Lionel, the boys, and myself. That’s it.”

  “But someone could have bypassed the alarm somehow.” Devlin was pacing again. “They do it on television and in movies all the time.”

  “Son, please sit down. You’re making me dizzy.”

  He exhaled and plopped onto an armchair. “What stumps me is the motive.” He waved a hand. “The police are bound to think I’m the one with the best motive, but I know it’s not me. And I can’t think of anyone else. Sam’s got a temper, but he’d never hurt anyone. His friends know that. He’s well liked.”

  Watching Devlin now, I still couldn’t forget my earlier questions about his innocence. He appeared genuinely concerned for Sam, and just as perplexed about the person responsible. If he hadn’t been involved in the attack on Sam, did that also mean he was innocent of murdering his stepfather? Not necessarily, yet it was hard to separate the two events in my mind.

  I said, “Obviously, there’s someone who more than doesn’t like Sam. One person wants him dead. If it weren’t for the note, police might believe the sleeping pills were intended for someone else.”

  Bootsy shook her head. “The bottle was with the note. I hate knowing my medication was used to hurt my son.”

  “Mom, we’ve been over this.” Devlin sat beside her and took his mother’s hand in his. “You didn’t give them to him. It’s not your fault someone else used them.”

  “Bootsy, did you take one of your tablets last night?”

  She nodded. “About ten o’clock I took two of them. Since Vance, um, you know, I can’t sleep without them. I was already asleep when Sam came home.”

  “So, someone must have sneaked into your room after ten.”

  She raised her gaze to meet mine. “That’s right. It takes me about fifteen minutes to fall asleep, so it had to be after that time. I left the bottle on my nightstand. The tablets are so strong that once I drop off, I’m oblivious to anything for hours.”

  “That’s right,” Devlin said. “I tried to wake her one night to tell her that her cousin in Oregon was on the phone. I shook her, but she couldn’t wake enough to take the call.”

  Bootsy patted his shoulder again. “The next morning, I didn’t even remember him trying to rouse me.”

  “Do you know how many pills were in the bottle? I mean, would you have missed some if they’d been taken during the day?”

  Bootsy paused thoughtfully. “I guess it would depend on how many were removed. Because they’re habit forming and so strong, the doctor is only prescribing a dozen at a time—that’s enough for six days. We’d just refilled the prescription yesterday, so there should have been ten pills left after I took mine last night. I think I would have noticed if many were missing. The bottle would have felt and sounded different.”

  I thought about what Bootsy had disclosed and went with the idea the medicine was taken after she was asleep. She took two pills at ten, was asleep around ten fifteen, and Sam went up to bed a little after eleven. That gave someone an hour to slip in and remove the bottle of medicine and prepare it for Sam. Plenty of time for anyone in the house, including Devlin. I looked from Bootsy to her eldest son, wondering if Devlin had played a part in Sam’s near death.

  Devlin gave his mother a fond look. “I worried about Mom taking such strong sleeping meds, but the doctor assured me it was all right. He insisted she needed them to get over Vance’s loss, and that she wouldn’t be on them long enough for them to become ha
bit forming. He planned to cut the strength in the next prescription, and have her gradually wean herself from them.”

  “I know I said I can’t stand the thought that my pills have been used to harm my son, but it’s true.” Bootsy reached for a tissue. “And I feel weak for needing them in the first place.”

  “It’s not your fault, Mom. You aren’t to blame for someone else’s vicious actions.” Devlin started to say more, but stopped when he saw Chelsea.

  Wiping tears from her face, Chelsea returned to the waiting room. She collapsed onto the first chair inside the room. “He looks so pale and helpless.”

  Devlin said, “I thought the same thing.”

  Bootsy stood and walked over to sit in the seat beside Chelsea. “Did he know you? Is there any change?”

  Chelsea smiled through tears. “He squeezed my hand.”

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Bootsy and Chelsea hugged one another and sobbed with joy.

  Devlin leaped to his feet. “I’ll ask the nurses if the monitors changed.” He hurried toward the swinging doors to ICU.

  I said. “Squeezing your hand must mean he’s better, even if he’s still too groggy to speak.”

  “Oh, Chelsea, please come back tomorrow.” Bootsy reached for the tissue box. “Maybe hearing your voice will help him wake up.” She dabbed at her eyes then blew her nose.

  “I get off at noon, and I’ll come straight here from work.”

  I said, “Chelsea, you should stay with Sam. Take some time off—as long as you need. Then you can spend time here.”

  Devlin returned, and his relief couldn’t be a faked response. Could it? “He is better. His pulse is stronger and his blood pressure is up a little more.” He hugged Chelsea. “Thanks for coming. Your visit made a real difference to Sam.” He hugged me. “And thanks for bringing her.”

  “Heather, I don’t want to rush you, but if you want to go on back, we’ll bring Chelsea home later.” Bootsy looked at Chelsea. “That’s if you want to stay and see him again. We’ll have to wait an hour.”

  “Oh, yes. I’m staying.”

  I bid them all good night and started toward the door.

  Devlin followed me. “I’ll walk you out. The parking lot is pretty well lighted, but you shouldn’t be out there alone at this hour.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” I didn’t know what to say and we walked to the elevator without speaking. The strained silence made me uncomfortable.

  When the doors opened, there were two women inside. One was weeping silently and the other tried to comfort her. Devlin and I said nothing on the ride down.

  As we left the hospital, lightning flashed overhead. The wind gusted and swirled against us, but the heavy air carried the sweet promise of rain.

  When we reached my car, Devlin said, “Heather, I know it looks as if I’m guilty, but I swear I didn’t kill Vance or drug Sam.”

  Deflecting his denial, I said, “It’s easy to see you’re very fond of your brother. And not loving your stepfather is a long way from hating him enough to kill him.” Probably I meant it, but Kurt’s warning made me wary. Who had a better motive than Devlin?

  “Thank God! I thought everyone but Mom and Aunt Kay had me convicted and in prison.”

  Lightning flashed again, and clouds obscured the moon and stars. Rascal would be in a panic alone in a storm.

  I unlocked the car door. “If not you, then someone close to you is guilty.”

  “I know, and it’s hard to believe someone I trust has done these horrible things. I’ve suspected everyone.” He looked haggard, and I realized how deeply he was worried.

  He leaned against my car. “After Vance’s death, I even wondered if Mom had killed him. Damn, I’m ashamed I ever considered her as a murderer, but he was such a rotten husband, not that she ever totally knew how rotten. A totally worthless excuse for a man.”

  “You can’t blame yourself for examining the facts.” Or me for doing the same.

  “Then I wondered if Sam had had one of his bursts of temper. He slams doors and stomps and shouts, but he’s never done anything violent. He wouldn’t even go hunting with Vance because Sam hated the thought of killing anything.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “How could I lose trust in my family?”

  He appeared sincere in his recriminations. I was torn between believing him or the facts that pointed to his involvement. “It’s natural that you’d consider everyone who had access. And that’s what the police are doing. Not accusing, just investigating. I’m sure they’ll find the right person soon.”

  “Dear God, I hope so. Mom can’t take much more of this. I’m not sure I can either.” He leaned near and ran his hand down my arm. “I enjoyed seeing you tonight. Thanks for coming. I hope this means you wanted to see me, too.”

  Trying for noncommittal, I said, “Of course I was concerned, and I couldn’t let Chelsea come alone. She was in no condition to drive over here.”

  Spatters of rain hit us and I got into the car. He waited until I locked the doors and started the engine, then waved and walked back toward the hospital. The rain fell in earnest as I drove away. Doubting Devlin worried me. Was I a traitor to wonder whether Devlin was innocent or just a good actor? Who else had anything to gain by Sam’s death?

  ***

  Soon after the garden center opened the next morning, the parking lot was full and customers gobbled up plants like a swarm of locusts. Obviously, last night’s rain followed by bright sunshine today had inspired gardeners. They came to stock up on supplies and new plants to get a jump on the upcoming long Memorial Day weekend. Steve and his helper stayed busy bringing up more stock while Greg helped load purchases into customers’ cars. With Miguel at the Rockwell job, Walter in jail, and Chelsea at the hospital in McKinney, we needed help from someone who knew about plants and our set up. Chomping down my pride, I’d called Grandpa.

  I didn’t know what his plans had been, but he came immediately. Martha and Vicky rang up sales while Grandpa and I answered questions and helped customers make selections. I was ready for a breather when Chelsea called at four.

  “Sam’s still not fully conscious, and the doctors haven’t figured out why. The attending physician called in a specialist.”

  I asked, “What have they told you?”

  “Both agreed that Sam ingested something bad besides the sleeping pills, but we’re waiting on one blood test from a more extensively equipped lab at Baylor Hospital in Dallas.”

  “Are Bootsy and Devlin both there?”

  “Yes, but Bootsy looks as if she’ll be a patient here soon. This is too much for her. How are things there?”

  “Fine,” I lied.

  “Are they?” She sounded surprised and, I thought, a bit disappointed we could do well without her. “I hope you’re busy, but I’m sorry you’re short-handed. I’ve been feeling guilty. You guys must be run ragged.”

  I gave in and confessed, “Okay, we were, but Grandpa’s helping out.”

  “Ohmygosh! You asked your grandfather to come over? I know how much you want to manage without him. Oh, Heather, asking him to fill in must have killed you.”

  “Calling him was hard, but I’m over it. Took him all of three seconds to get here, by the way. I’ll bet he was looking at the number of cars in the parking lot and waiting for my call.” At least he’d waited until I asked for help. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have.

  “I’m totally sorry me not being there left you in a bind and you had to call him.”

  I looked across the plant shed where Grandpa was giving Indian Hawthorns the hard sell to Mrs. Baxter. “Don’t be. Grandpa’s having way too much fun visiting with customers. You just take care of yourself and keep us posted on Sam’s progress.”

  When Miguel came in at five, Grandpa left. “Los hombres, they work without me tomorrow so I can help you here. They work not at all on Saturday but promise to be back on Tuesday. Juan, he comes here tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Miguel. Everything okay at Rockwell’s?
”

  “Sí. We finish everything, and next week, we put sod over the trenches left from the sprinkler system. It’s gonna be perfect. Señora Rockwell, she will love it.” He looked at me and nodded toward my grandfather. “Seeing Dick helping here, it is good.”

  I stared at him.

  He grinned. “Means no longer are you afraid he don’t trust you. You, now you really are the boss,” he tapped his head, “in here, and in here,” he tapped his heart. “Es verdad, no?”

  He turned and strode toward a customer before I could think of anything to reply.

  ***

  At five until six, Chelsea called again. “Sam slips in and out of consciousness. Even when he’s awake, he can’t speak.”

  “Have Kay and Wyatt been to visit?”

  “Ugghh, yes. Thank heavens, not for long. She acted nervous as a staked-out goat at a tiger convention. Since Sam’s a little better, they’re going ahead with the reading of the will and the dinner tomorrow. Doesn’t make sense to me, but that’s what Mr. Wyatt said.”

  “You must be exhausted. When are you coming back?”

  “Bootsy and Devlin are bringing me home after the eight o’clock visit. We’ll return in the morning and then leave for Gamble Grove about three.”

  “I guess you’re not worried any longer about them accepting you. I get to say I told you so.”

  “They’ve been so nice to me. Even that evil witch Kay was nice in front of them.”

  “I can’t believe she knows how. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

  ***

  I dragged myself up the stairs and let Rascal out to run through the tree nursery. He came when I called, and we went back up for our supper. Kibble with water sauce for him, yogurt and a banana for me.

  Looking forward to a short evening followed by a long soak in the tub, I curled up on my loveseat to eat. I’d finished the yogurt and peeled the banana when the phone rang.

  Kurt was on the line. “Can you come to the police station? I know it’s late, but I have those two kids here. Danny won’t talk. The one called Hector might, but he and his mom want you here first.”