Poison Flowers

by Nat Burns

  They chatted a few more minutes, and then they left Marya alone. She replaced her oxygen mask, her thoughts flying to Dorry. Nobody had mentioned her. Fear swelled her heart. Had she lost her?

  She shifted in her bed, making sure not to dislodge any of the various leads, and pulled herself into a sitting position. The room she was in was pleasant with a bay window that looked out beyond the highway and over the city of Schuyler Point. A silent television flickered on a nearby wall.

  “Well, look at you,” said a nurse as she strode into the room and studied Marya, arms akimbo. “I can see we’re feeling better.”

  Marya smiled and pulled the mask loose again so she could talk.

  “Much better but, boy, am I sore, all over,” she whispered.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” the nurse said as she approached the bed and pulled the mask over Marya’s head. She dismantled it, rolling up the tubing and tossing the mask in the waste bin. “You can talk normally now, hon. I know it’s a little sore in there, but you don’t need to be afraid of hurting anything. You’re all patched up. We’re basically just keeping an eye on you for now.”

  Marya started to pull out the tubing below her nose but the nurse stayed her hand. “Let’s keep that nasal cannula in for just a little longer. A little bit of extra oxygen right now won’t hurt a thing.”

  She poured water into a cup, added a bent straw and offered it to Marya. Marya dutifully took several sips. “Thank you.”

  The nurse took her pulse, listened to her chest sounds and her heartbeat and entered the information on her chart. “Let’s get you up and to the facilities,” she said, holding out a bent arm for support. Marya took it, pulled her legs around and placed her feet on the floor. The nurse unwrapped the plastic tubing on her oxygen supply to give her some slack and led her to the bathroom. She emerged, her bladder relieved and ready at last to relieve her mind. She steeled herself for the possibility of bad news.

  “The woman who came in with me…do you know anything about her?” Marya asked as the nurse helped her back into bed. “Her name is Dorcas Wood.”

  The nurse laughed. “Oh, yes, we all know about Dorry. She’s been driving us crazy, the doctors too, making sure you had the best of everything. She keeps going around telling everyone on the ortho floor what a hero you are and how you saved her life. She’s been up here every day in her wheelchair, checking on you.”

  The nurse grinned at Marya. “And I bet there’s not one single patient on this cardio floor who doesn’t know what a hero you are too.”

  Marya smiled, relief and love filling her completely. Dorry was okay. That’s all she needed to know.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Marya walked over and hunkered down behind a thick stand of pine. Inspector March was already there. The cell he planned to use to call the backup cars was clasped in his hand.

  “So, how much longer?” he asked, his voice tight with anxiety.

  She glanced at her watch, holding it up to improve visibility in the gathering dusk. “Another fifteen minutes. Dorry set the meeting for nine.”

  “He knows she’s alone?”

  “Yep, she asked him if he would mind moving a few boxes for her because no one else was available.”

  “Ahh,” March said. “Smart move.”

  “Yeah, I thought so,” she answered. It had taken two weeks to convince the sheriff, first, that he should consider Barnes a prime suspect in Denton’s death and, second, that Dorry, even in a full leg cast and wheelchair, was more than capable of handling anything untoward that might crop up. They’d imagined every contingency, developing not only a Plan B, but a Plan C and a Plan D as well. They’d set the best trap for him that they could. They just had to wait now for him to walk into it.

  She started in alarm as a uniformed figure approached the house from the access road where a parked cruiser was barely visible.

  “What the…! Hey, March, there’s a…” she began just as his cell vibrated.

  “Yeah,” March answered it. “Okay, got it.”

  He turned toward her. “It’s just Thomas. He’s going down below, where he can be available for immediate support.”

  “He won’t push it, will he?” she asked. That’s all they needed, some hotheaded deputy going off half-cocked and tipping the guy off. Especially since Barnes was his taekwondo master.

  “I don’t think so. Gennis says he gave him strict orders. He’s just going to wait there until they signal the officers to enter.”

  Marya relaxed, but only slightly, and nodded to show she understood. They waited.

  ***

  Inside the house, Dorry waited as well. She was trying hard to even out her breathing and slow the beat of her anxious heart. As a taekwondo master, she should have been able to do so easily, but she wasn’t feeling very masterly at the moment. She sighed and squirmed in the wheelchair. To top everything off, her broken leg was itching inside the cast. She tapped the outside of it absently with one fingertip as she peered out the side window.

  Could Barnes have killed Denny? It was hard for her to fathom. Sure, he had some kind of weird obsession for her, but killing Denny would only alienate her. Surely he had to realize that.

  “Stop tapping, Dorry,” Marya said in her ear. “It’s making us crazy over here.”

  Dorry let out a short bark of laughter but stopped her mindless drumming. It wasn’t helping the itch anyway. She glanced at the wall clock. It was time.

  Automobile lights appeared at the top of Dorry’s drive.

  “Here we go,” she whispered.

  “We see it,” Marya replied. “Hang tough. We’ve got your back and Thomas is downstairs. You okay?”

  “I’m okay,” Dorry said softly, her heart thrilling at the caring concern in Marya’s voice.

  Dorry rolled herself to the rear of the room, so her back would be to the wall. She folded her hands together and willed herself into calmness. What will be will be, she thought repeatedly. What will be will be.

  When Barnes knocked and entered, Dorry was surprised to see flowers in his hands, beautiful crimson roses bound with a wide, deep blue ribbon. He smiled at her and closed the door.

  “Hello, Dorry,” he said. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay,” she responded. “What’s this then?” She indicated the flowers.

  “They’re for you.” He placed them in her lap, then stepped back and lowered his head. “It means a lot to me that you asked me over. I…I’ve been hoping you would.”

  Dorry grunted, the smell of roses filling her head. “You have, huh?”

  “Yes.” He paused as if mulling over what to say. “I know the restraining order says I shouldn’t be here without your permission. So it meant a lot to me that you asked me over to help you out.” He paused as if uncertain what to say next. “And I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

  “Thank you, Freddy. I’m not sure what happened, but we were friends once.” Dorry’s voice was calm, belying the feelings roiling inside her.

  A silence fell between them. After a few moments, Barnes spoke. “You know…as a team we could be very powerful.”

  Dorry indicated the sofa. “Sit and tell me what you mean.”

  Barnes perched on the edge of the sofa, and Dorry breathed a small sigh of relief. She knew she had the skills necessary to protect herself, but having him standing over her had been intimidating.

  “I’ve been thinking about this ever since that time in North Carolina, since that moment we had. About how…intense…we could be together. You know, if we…if I just…took a little of your essence. Your tiger essence…” he faltered. “You don’t understand, I know, but…but think about it…”

  Dorry was bewildered. “Think about what, Fred? What moment in North Carolina?”

  Barnes closed his eyes, sadness creasing his features. “The competition. Raleigh. You took me down in round one. I saw it there for just a moment, in just that instance, that tiger essence in your eyes. I was shamed, yes, complete
ly, but I realized, in that shame, that this day would come. That one day we would merge forces and be one powerful force to be reckoned with. That our two schools would become one.”

  Dorry was becoming aggravated. “Freddy, what are you talking about? What does that have to do with Denny?” She paused as she heard Marya’s warning hiss in her ear.

  Barnes studied Dorry as if she were the one who had lost her mind. “Denny? Denton, your brother-in-law? What does he have to do with us? Didn’t he die?”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. Dorry ignored the cautioning voice in her ear. “Exactly. And I believe you are responsible.” Her hands moved from the roses and gripped the rubber wheels of the chair.

  Barnes fell quiet, head tilted as though working math sums in his head. His eyes stared blankly at Dorry. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” he said.

  “This is getting tedious,” muttered Dallas, stepping into the room. Swinging her arm wide, she brought the heavy candlestick in her hand down on Barnes’s head, connecting with a sickening, awful, cracking noise.

  “Dallas, what the hell!” Dorry tried to leap to her feet, forgetting about her broken leg, and ended up collapsing in a heap next to Barnes’s body on the floor. His eyes were open and fixed. Dorry’s heart clenched in sadness at the sight. In her ear, she heard Marya shouting, “It’s not him, it’s not him!” Working out ways to keep Dallas busy until the police could arrive, she used her arms to pull herself into a semi-sitting position.

  “Now, Dallas,” she began, speaking slowly and carefully. “I don’t know what you’re up to but I think you’d better rethink it.” She pushed rose stems and petals aside, making sure her hands would be able to maneuver her body as needed and scanning the room, trying to determine where the social editor had moved to.

  Dallas chuckled. The sound drew Dorry’s gaze to the bar. She was leaning against it, panting from the exertion and excitement of hitting Barnes. The bloodied candlestick still dangled from one gloved hand. “Rethink. Rethink? That’s all I’ve done for twenty-odd years is think. Think about why she never let me talk to him, that bitch. She let him think his precious Francie was his only child and here was my poor baby, left all alone with no daddy. Boys need a daddy, don’t they?”

  She moved closer and shook the candlestick at Dorry. “She is one iron-clad bitch, that one is,” she said. “I’m sure Nicky regrets that choice.”

  “Oh my God, Mama. What have you done?” Thomas entered the room from the back hallway. “What have you done?”

  “Shoot her, boy. Shoot her quickly. A killing shot. Say the bitch killed him, then came at you. Hurry now. I’ll meet you at home.” Dallas threw the candlestick down and turned toward the back of the house.

  A low laugh rumbled in Dorry’s chest, then emerged to rule the night. Thomas and Dallas turned to her, shame written on one face, confusion on the other.

  “Go ahead, Thomas, tell her,” Dorry said.

  Twin high-beam lights roved across the ceiling and around the room. Thomas danced nervously in place, a low moan issuing from his lips.

  Dallas glanced at the approaching car lights, then slipped into the darkness of the hallway. “Tell me at home later,” she said as she fled. “Shoot her, shoot her now!”

  Before he could act, the front door burst open and Inspector March, Marya and three deputies rushed inside. A shrieking cacophony broke out in the back of the house, growing louder and more vile as Sheriff Gennis marched Dallas back into the room. She was trying to wriggle free, all the while screaming at him, but he had her arms securely pinned behind her.

  Marya raced to Dorry’s side and hunkered down next to her. “Oh God, are you okay? Okay? Are you? Really?” Marya’s words were a jumble of ceaseless worry.

  Dorry grabbed Marya’s fluttering hands to still them. She pulled her close and looked into Marya’s eyes. “Yes, I am fine. Calm down now. Breathe.”

  Marya threw her arms around Dorry’s neck and buried her face in it, missing the abrupt entrance of Isabel and the tall man in a khaki uniform who was with her.

  Isabel paused in the doorway, taken aback by Marya and Dorry’s embrace and then by the sight of Barnes’s body on the floor. The officer crouched beside him, searching for a pulse, was shaking his head.

  Isabel lifted a hand to her open mouth. “Oh, Dorry. What has happened?” she gasped.

  At the sound of her voice, Marya pulled out of the embrace, but she stayed close, moving just enough to allow two of the deputies to lift Dorry back into her chair. Once she was settled in it, she stood behind the wheelchair, a possessive hand on the back of it, but itching to rest it on Dorry’s shoulder instead.

  “It was Dallas,” Dorry replied dully. “Dallas. She was the one. Though how she…”

  Isabel sighed. “Thomas, that’s how. Her son. And…Nicky’s.”

  Marya looked from Isabel to Thomas. “What? Dallas had a son? And with…with Nicholas?”

  “But they were too good to own up to it, weren’t they?” Dallas growled from across the room. “I thought maybe after Dorry let Francie die, Nicky would be glad to have his son but, oh no,” she sneered. “This bitch wouldn’t let me talk to him even then.”

  Nicholas, who turned out to be Isabel’s tall companion, stepped behind his wife and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Dallas, you know Isabel was just looking out for me. After Francie died, I couldn’t think about anything, much less something as important as this.”

  “But we could have been a family, Nicky,” Dallas cajoled. “I sent you so many letters…I tried to call. She just…”

  Nicholas moved from Isabel to Thomas, who was standing in handcuffs, his head drooping sullenly. “I’m so sorry, Thomas. I…I never knew.”

  “You never wanted to know,” Thomas replied quietly. “Now, it doesn’t even matter. I never cared anyway. I was happy with just Mama.”

  “Look, break this up,” Inspector March said. “All of you need to come to the station for statements. We’ll get to the bottom of things there.”

  “Wait,” Dorry said, her authoritative voice ringing throughout the room. “I have to know…Which of you killed Denny and why?”

  Silence fell and persisted for a long beat.

  “He was nosing around,” Thomas said finally. “Mama saw what he was printing out at work…my birth certificate… and she called me. He was bringing it to you, even though the father was listed as Nick Cross. I guess he put two and two together. We had to get it back from him so no one would know about me and Mama. So we hid him. And then he tried to get away, when I brought him food. I swear…it was an accident. He was an old man…so old and…”

  “Shut up, Thomas,” Dallas hissed. “Hush right this instant!”

  “I agree,” said Sheriff Gennis. “Thomas Cross, you are under arrest for the murder of Denton Hyde. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney and if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you…Do you understand these rights?”

  Thomas nodded and he and his mother were escorted to the waiting cruiser. Isabel and Nicholas were led out by Inspector March. He paused to look back at Dorry and Marya. “You’ll be along then?”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Marya held Dorry’s hand. They’d been through it, no doubt about that. Into the crucible and out again. Together.

  “I still can’t believe it,” she said. “Imagine sweet little Dallas raising a monster like that.”

  She rose slowly, lifting Dorry’s cup and moving to the counter to get more coffee for them both. They were commiserating over breakfast in Dorry’s small, tidy kitchen, still reeling from the shock of the previous day.

  Dorry leaned back in her wheelchair. “I had my doubts about her. She’s not so sweet.”

  “Obviously,” Marya said, smiling. “I’m glad you’re okay, Dorry,” she added softly. “I was really worried for a while there.”

  “
Me too, love. Worried about both of us.” She laughed softly, ruefully.

  “So let me get this straight. Dallas was with Nicholas before Isabel and got pregnant with Thomas.”

  Dorry nodded. “Yes. But it was a one-time thing. They never really had a relationship.”

  “Nicholas never knew about the baby?”

  “Right.”

  “Then Isabel got pregnant with Francie?”

  “Correct.”

  “So Thomas and Francie have the same father.”

  Again a nod. “Yes.”

  “So why didn’t Isabel tell Nicholas? He had a right to know.”

  Dorry sighed, becoming very interested in her coffee. “Isabel told me that it was the way Dallas approached her. She acted entitled…and she was very bitter because Nicky had left her for Isabel. Even so, Isabel did try to help. Felt sorry for her being left alone with a toddler so she started sending her some money each month.”

  “And she didn’t tell Nicholas? How did she hide that?”

  Dorry shrugged. “He was traveling, assigned to various short stations, and Isabel had just realized she was pregnant right about that time. When Dallas approached her, I think she was afraid Nicky would leave her and go back to Dallas.”

  “Would he have?”

  “Good question. I doubt it. He was so wrapped up in Francie and Isabel but…he has a massive sense of duty. That would have played a powerful role.”

  Marya tapped a forefinger on her chin. “Being a military man and all.”

  “Yes.” Dorry sat back. “So she sent money, over and over again, each month. But…” She sighed and shifted in her seat. “Dallas had started going off the deep end. Isabel set up a post office box because she didn’t want Dallas to know where they lived after they left Germany and moved to Bethesda. Dallas inundated the box with photocopies. Most were of bills. Expenses. Even the most mundane…groceries even. She wanted Isabel and Nicholas to pay for them. Expected them to pay.”