Nightshade for Warning

by Bailey Cattrell

  “Has it been on the market long?” Astrid asked. Trying to find out whether Blake had been on board with the sale? Good girl.

  Joyous looked up. “Are you interested in buying it?”

  Astrid smiled. “We’d like to know more about it.”

  “It’s thirty acres, just like the flyer said. It’s nice. You could build a house there.” She seemed to shiver. “Or do whatever you want.”

  “I understand your great-great-great-grandfather claimed that land back before the miners started flooding to the area,” I said.

  Her jaw set and she nodded. “Something like that.” She bit off the words. “There was a lot more. My grandfather donated most of it to help form Clary State Park. Those thirty acres are all that’s left.”

  “And it’s never been developed? I’m sorry you have to sell it.”

  “I just want it gone. I don’t care what happens to it.” Her voice rose on the words. “Someone else can deal with . . . You need to go talk to the real estate agent if you want to know more.”

  “I was hoping—” I began.

  “They can take you out there and show you the place, tell you everything about it. That’s their job.”

  I tried again. “I was really hoping you’d be willing to show us the property yourself. You know, since it’s been in your family for genera—”

  “No!” She jumped to her feet. “I’ll never go there again. Never. You can’t make me.” She sounded like a frightened child. “You need to leave now.”

  Astrid and I exchanged a bewildered glance.

  “Now!”

  “Okay,” I said quietly. The woman seemed jumpy as a cat. Was it just that she wasn’t used to being around other people? Or had something terrible happened on that property?

  Or did she take something terrible from there—like the deadly nightshade plant used to kill her brother?

  I wanted to ask if she’d argued with her brother on the telephone the evening before his death, but this obviously wasn’t the right time.

  “Do the police have any news about Blake?” Astrid asked as Joyous marched us to the exit.

  She turned and glared at my friend. “I told you I don’t want to talk about my brother.”

  Astrid gave her a gentle smile and didn’t say anything.

  Joyous flared her nostrils. “He was murdered, the detective told me this morning. Poison. They have a suspect and expect to make an arrest soon.” Her lips pinched together. “I hope whoever killed him goes to jail for the rest of their lives.”

  She yanked the door open with a pointed look at me. “Gold Rush Realty.”

  I nodded and we went outside. She slammed the door behind us.

  Astrid and I walked to the Wrangler in silence. Once we’d fastened our seat belts and were on our way, she turned to me. “I expected her to be strange, but I don’t understand her at all. She seemed upset about her brother, angry that he’d been murdered, but didn’t want to talk about him. At the same time, the mention of her family land actually got us inside her house, yet she practically turned into a basket case when she started talking about it.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t get it, either. I feel bad for her, that’s for sure. Unless it turns out that she killed Blake and plans to let Larken pay the price.”

  She grimaced. “Yeah, that bit about the police having an official suspect so soon was a bit of a bombshell.”

  Flipping on my turn signal, I sighed. “I bet Max rushed the autopsy. I need to check with Lupe and see if I was right about the belladonna.” I pulled up in front of her house.

  “Well, let me know what happens,” Astrid said, giving Dash one last pat and getting out of the vehicle. “I’ll be around, but right now I’m due to give an asthmatic cat her inhaler.”

  “How’s Precious the pig doing?”

  She grinned. “Back with Mrs. Paulson. Don’t be surprised to see her walking down Corona Street.”

  “It’s getting so I’m not surprised at much that goes on in this town. Thanks for going with me to see Joyous,” I said.

  “No problem! Call me later.”

  I promised I would and pulled away from the curb.

  • • •

  IT turned out that I didn’t have to track down Detective Garcia after all. I’d just parked in front of the Hotel California when my cell started buzzing, and her name lit up on the screen.

  “Hey, there,” I said. “I was just about to call you.”

  “Really.” Her tone was flat.

  My stomach sank. “Yeah, really. Is something wrong?”

  “You tell me.”

  I felt my forehead crease. “What are you talking about?”

  “Were you by any chance planning to tell me that your brother and Larken Meadows skipped town?”

  “What? No, they didn’t.”

  “They checked out of the hotel shortly after Detective Lang interviewed Meadows.”

  I backed out of the space I’d just pulled into and turned toward the north end of town. “I know that, Lupe. I had dinner with them last night. Larken didn’t want to stay in the hotel after what happened there, so they’re staying in Colby’s Westfalia.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I guess I can understand that. She isn’t answering her phone, though. Max about popped a vein when he discovered they were gone.”

  Grimacing, I said, “That’s the last thing Larken needs.” I reached the end of Corona, turned into the stable parking lot, and stopped next to Thea Nelson’s mint green step-side pickup.

  “Where are they camped?” Lupe sounded a lot friendlier than when she’d first called.

  “At Gessie King’s,” I practically crowed as I spied the Westfalia snugged up by the chuck wagon. I hadn’t realized how worried I’d been than Colby might have really taken off.

  Though, honestly, a part of me would have cheered him on and lied through my teeth to the police.

  “Okay, thanks. I’ll let Max know.”

  “Lupe?” I turned off the engine. Dash had jumped forward to the passenger seat, ready to get out and romp with Gessie’s Bernese mountain dog. “I heard you’re about to make an arrest. Is that . . .” I took a deep breath. “Is that why you wanted to know where Larken is?”

  “I needed to know anyway, especially if she skipped town. But yes, you were right about the belladonna poisoning, and Max is champing at the bit to close this case.” She paused. “Ellie, there are a few loose ends that don’t make sense, but it’s not looking good for her.”

  A few loose ends. I grabbed on to the phrase like a lifeline.

  “Have you looked into Joyous Sontag as a suspect? Larken said she told Max that Blake was arguing with someone on the phone when she went to his room. It sounds like it might have been his sister, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Ms. Meadows said she didn’t actually hear any of the conversation, but we’re checking phone records.”

  “Well Blake said ‘joy’ a few times. That’s in Max’s notes, I bet. And listen, Joyous owns a piece of land—well, she and Blake both apparently owned it until his death, from what my dad told me. Blake didn’t have any kids, did he?”

  Lupe sighed. “No kids. No wife. Girlfriend moved to DC and dumped him a while back. Doesn’t even sound like the guy had a dog.”

  I paused. “That’s sad.”

  “Can I answer any other questions, Ellie? Perhaps you’d like to know his bank balance or where he got his hair cut. Whether he was a boxers or briefs kind of guy.”

  “Sarcasm is the lowest form of humor, my friend. Just sayin’. Back to the Sontag land—I went to check it out this morning. There are several deadly nightshade plants growing wild.”

  “You were there?”

  “Yep. Astrid and I drove out.”

  She sighed. “And you went to see Joyous.” It wasn’t a quest
ion, and she didn’t sound happy.

  “Er, yeah.”

  “Ellie, you have to leave this to me.”

  “You just said it wasn’t looking good for Larken.”

  Silence.

  “She didn’t kill anyone, Lupe. That field with all the deadly nightshade? It’s fenced, with a locked gate. Larken couldn’t have gotten in there, but Joyous could have. Or anyone the Realtor took out there, I suppose.” My palms were sweating. “I know you have to do your job, but I’m not going to let Max railroad her like he tried to do to me. I’m not going to let you do it, either.”

  “Careful, Ellie.”

  But my back was up. “I mean it. I know we’re friends, and I know you’re a good cop. But Larken isn’t going down for this.”

  “‘Going down’?” She snorted. “You sound pretty tough there, girlfriend.”

  I found myself blushing, even though she couldn’t see me. “Sorry. I’m just worried.”

  Larken came around the corner of the hay barn with Gessie. Each was leading a horse. Thea Nelson followed, pulling her work gloves off as she walked.

  “Are you interested in another possible suspect?” I asked.

  A pause, then, “Let’s have it.”

  “Felicity Donovan had a problem with Blake from years ago. He stole a big story from her when they both worked at the San Francisco Chronicle that made his career and tanked hers. Now she’s managing the Hotel California. She would have had plenty of access to him.”

  “I’ll look into it,” Lupe said. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll be in touch, though. Okay?”

  “All right. Thanks,” I said, and rang off.

  Inhaling the warm afternoon air redolent of horse musk and alfalfa, I opened the door. Dash jumped to the ground and took off to find the Bernese, Toby. I got out and went to meet Gessie. Her iron gray curls were jammed under a stained straw cowboy hat, and her riding breeches were tucked into soft leather calf boots. Larken wore jeans and a T-shirt that read AMERICA NEEDS FARMERS.

  Gessie grinned at me. “Ellie! This girl is a godsend. My stall mucker didn’t show today, and this one jumped right in and helped me out. The horses love her, too.”

  Larken ducked her head. “Seemed like the least I could do for letting us stay here.”

  “Nonsense,” Gessie said. “I’m paying you. Don’t argue.”

  Looking pleased, my brother’s girlfriend reached up and scrubbed at the white star between the eyes of her chestnut charge with her fingertips. The mare blinked with pleasure.

  “Hey, Ellie,” Thea said, joining us. She was rangy and slow moving, an old friend from high school and Ritter’s little sister. She also happened to be a gifted horticulturist who had helped me design and plant the Enchanted Garden.

  Talk about a godsend.

  Today she wore a pair of overalls over a tank top that advertised her nursery, Terra Green, and a red ball cap.

  “You hear from my brother lately?” she asked.

  “Yesterday. He sends his love,” I said.

  “Good. Now if he’d just send me the fifty bucks he owes me.” Thea was smiling, though.

  Whenever someone mentioned Ritter, I was swamped with missing him. Today was one of the times his absence felt more like a muddy puddle than a wave of longing. Other times it felt like a sharp ache behind my sternum.

  “What are you doing out here?” I asked Thea. “You don’t ride, do you?”

  “Nah. Gessie here is hosting a hunter jumper show next week and wanted one of the jumps planted with real flowers.” She whistled and winked at our friend. “Fancy.”

  The horse trainer shrugged. “The equestrian club is celebrating fifty years. I want it to be nice.”

  “Where’s Colby?” I didn’t mention my conversation with Detective Garcia to Larken. I didn’t want to worry her, not yet, and I still hadn’t talked to Felicity Donovan.

  “He went down to the courthouse,” Larken said.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Said something about seeing if there was anything special about the Sontag land.”

  Thea dragged me out to the hunter course to show me the artful combination of junipers and annuals she’d come up with to approximate a natural barrier for the horses to jump over. It did look great, and I murmured my admiration before explaining I had to get going. I could practically feel the time swirling away, and my task list wasn’t getting any shorter.

  After saying good-bye to everyone, I called to Dash. Five minutes later we were heading back downtown.

  I dropped by Scents & Nonsense to check in with Maggie. The lip balms were labeled, the online orders boxed and lined by the door for pickup later that afternoon, and she’d managed to sell a dozen sandalwood centerpiece candles to a wedding planner.

  “Nice job,” I said. “Those sandalwood candles were pricier than I liked, and I was about to put them on fire sale to get rid of them.”

  She nodded happily. “I know. But they’ll be great for a wedding reception, so I figured it was a win-win. What else would you like for me to do?”

  Glancing toward the coffee area, I said, “Well, it turns out the photographer who was going to be here yesterday morning is coming this afternoon at four instead. I don’t know if he’ll even come into the shop, but do you think you could tidy up around the back door there?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she exclaimed. “Of course. I’ll have that whole patio spick-and-span in no time.” She hurried over and grabbed a broom out of the cupboard.

  Laughing, I thanked her. “And I’m going to leave Dash here.” He’d already trundled out to join Nabby under the retaining wall in the Enchanted Garden.

  I looked at my watch. It was already two o’clock. If I hurried, I’d have enough time for two more stops.

  • • •

  THE lobby of the Hotel California was considerably less crowded that it had been the last two times I’d been in it. A white-haired couple played cards at the far end, and a bored-looking man stared down at his phone, obviously waiting for someone. The piano bench was empty, the fire was turned off, and the sound of a vacuum echoed from a first-floor hallway. Through a pair of French doors, I spied the corner of the outdoor swimming pool, the surface smooth and quiet. The smell of wood polish mingled with that of dust and a whiff of chlorine. The Empire Room wasn’t open yet, but the Horseshoe Bar had a few patrons perched on stools in front of a baseball game on the big-screen television. I turned toward the reception desk.

  A slight young man in a blue blazer stood behind the counter, his eyes glued to the computer screen in front of him. As I approached, he looked up and quickly hit a few keys.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Hi. Is the manager around?”

  “Let me check.” He turned and walked through a doorway in the back wall. A minute later he returned with the Felicity behind him.

  She looked surprised when she saw who had asked for her. “Hi, Ellie. Is something wrong?”

  Plenty, I thought, but said, “I just wanted to talk to you about something.” I looked pointedly at the open doorway.

  Lifting one eyebrow, she gestured me around the reception counter. I followed her into a messy office that also functioned partially as storage, if the stacks of cartons against the wall were any indication. I maneuvered around a pile of brochures and sank onto the guest chair. She closed the door and came to half sit on the front of a cluttered desk.

  “What can I do for you?”

  I’d thought about how to question her about Blake, and hadn’t come up with anything in the least bit clever. So I tried easing in to start.

  “Is everything settling down after the excitement yesterday morning?”

  She frowned. “On one hand, there’s good turnover here, so many of the guests who’ve checked in have no idea there was a murder upstairs. On the other, I can only h
ope people aren’t too awful when it comes to rating us online. It’s amazing how those reviews affect our business.”

  I made a sympathetic noise.

  Silence descended between us. I smiled.

  Felicity smiled back.

  Then I realized I’d never win that game with a seasoned journalist. They were trained to let the other person fill the quiet.

  “You knew Blake Sontag,” I said.

  “I did. Lots of people did.”

  “Did you like him?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “I have a feeling you already know the answer to that.”

  I donned a speculative expression. “I did hear a few things.”

  Her lips turned up in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “And from whom did you hear these ‘things’?”

  “Er, a mutual friend . . . ?”

  “I highly doubt that.” Her eyes narrowed. “I really would like to know who’s been spreading my business around town. It was Cynthia, wasn’t it? Not many other people know, and I thought she’d keep it to herself.”

  I sidestepped. “You mean the business about how Blake stole your federal superfund story when you two worked in San Francisco?” I steeled myself for her reaction.

  Slowly, she folded her arms over her chest. “Yes. That’s what I mean.”

  “You must have really hated him for that.”

  “I certainly did.” A faintly amused look had come into her eyes.

  Confused, I said, “Maybe even enough to kill him.”

  The amusement turned to laughter in her gaze. “Oh, yes. I may have hated him enough to kill him. I never really thought about it in those terms, but it’s certainly possible that I hated that son of a bitch that much.”

  I blinked.

  She shook her head and went behind her desk. Sat down. “But as it happens, I didn’t do it.”

  “Oh.” I groped for something to say.

  “As I told Detective Garcia when she came by about twenty minutes ago, I was at home with my family when Blake Sontag checked in, and all that night until the police called me the next morning.”

  Wow. Lupe followed up immediately after I told her about Felicity. I owed the detective an apology.