by Joyce
“Nice to meet you.” He glanced back at the building. “What are you doing here? Nothing but death in that place.”
“I’m a forensic botanist on the side. I guess I love the work because it involves two of my favorite things—puzzles and plants.”
“Thanks.” He laughed. “I was about to ask what a forensic botanist does.”
“I didn’t know what it was at first either. But it’s a good feeling when we solve a case and give a family the answers they deserve.”
“I suppose so.” He shook her hand again. “I’m Billy Lowe. If you ever need any help, give me a call.”
She promised she would, thinking that Sam might need some extra help if he managed to resell all those plants and shrubs that had been destroyed.
Peggy was yawning as she went inside. Four a.m. was just too early to be up, and stay up all day. She hoped Steve wasn’t feeling the same way and smiled as she texted him a yawning emoticon.
“There you are Dr. Lee.” Mai uncomfortably glanced around the empty hall. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“Everyone around here knows we’re related.” Peggy put her bag down on her desk. “Even Dr. Beck calls me Peggy. It’s okay for you to do it too.”
“I have to be more careful than Dr. Beck because I’m not the medical examiner, and she’s not your daughter-in-law. I was wondering where you’ve been.”
As Peggy put on her white lab coat, she explained about everything that had been going on at The Potting Shed.
“Is that where Paul was too? I’ve been trying to reach him all day.” Mai walked into the lab with Peggy.
“No. He wasn’t with me. I’ve tried calling him too. With everything the police have to do, I’m sure he’s just very busy.”
But Peggy’s stomach was starting to churn. Where was Paul?
It was probably only because of this other business—it wasn’t like she kept track of him every day. He was a grown man. But still . . .
Another worker in the medical examiner’s office knocked at the door and then came in. “Dr. Sato, we’ve gone through all the evidence that was found at the Honohan crime scene and separated it. Do you want to take a look at it now?”
“Sure, Dave. Thank you.” Mai smiled at him, but as soon as he was gone she urged Peggy to identify the residue they’d found on Ms. Honohan as quickly as possible.
“Try to remember that this isn’t a race.” Peggy took the top off one of the plastic containers that contained the gel-like substance from the coat. “It’s more important that we’re sure than that we’re fast. Right?”
“You’re right. But it will be a feather in my cap if we’re both. Call me when you have something.”
Peggy sighed and shook her head as she placed some of the goo on a slide before putting it into the microscope.
Mai had always been ambitious. It wasn’t surprising since her parents were the same. They’d expected big things from her, and she was terrified of letting them down. She was the same way with Rosie. She watched everything the baby did with a nervous eye on when she did it and how good she was at it.
Peggy put aside her daughter-in-law’s driven nature, and took a close look at the goo they suspected to be botanical. The microscope showed her that not only was the goo plant matter, but she’d seen this phytochemical makeup before.
She hurriedly got on the lab computer to verify her findings, but before she could make a positive ID, Mai came rushing back into the lab.
“When were you going to tell me?” she raged as she stalked back and forth across the green tile floor. “When was he going to tell me?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” Peggy felt that strange feeling of dread come over her again.
Mai put a plastic bag with a single business card in it on the counter where Peggy was working. “Paul is a licensed private investigator? What was he doing at Nita Honohan’s condo?”
Giant Hogweed
Giant hogweed is a fourteen-foot tall member of the carrot family that makes its home along riverbeds and creeks. Because of the dangerous sap that comes from the plant, gardeners who positively identify it are asked to call for help rather than try to cut the plant by themselves. The sap has been known to burn and blind those who come into contact with it.
Chapter Seven
Peggy picked up the evidence bag and read the private investigator’s card in it.
“This has to be some mistake, or a prank,” she concluded. “Paul is a full-time CMPD officer. He doesn’t have time to be a private investigator on the side.”
“Maybe he does,” Mai fumed. “Maybe that’s why he’s never home. And that’s why he lied to me about where he was last night.”
“Mai—”
“You’re a terrible liar, Peggy.” She put her hand to her head and gazed absently across the room. “It’s bad enough that neither one of us even knew about this, but now he’s tied in with this homicide. I’ll have to give this to the police. They’ll want to question him.”
Peggy took off her gloves and went to calm her. “I’m sure there’s a rational explanation for this. I know my son. Paul is the worst at keeping secrets. We would’ve known about this from the moment he first thought about it.”
“Will you keep trying to get in touch with him? I don’t feel right calling him about the situation when we’re investigating the case. I can’t believe he’d put me in this position.”
“I’m sure this will make more sense once we talk to him.” Peggy hopefully consoled Mai—and herself.
“Do we know anything useful about the goo yet?” Mai changed the subject.
“I was about to look it up. I recognize this material. I was at a poison plant symposium last month that dealt with this species aggressively moving across the U.S. I think this might be a hogweed compound.”
Mai wrinkled her nose. “Hogweed? What’s that?”
“It’s a very dangerous plant that’s in the carrot family. The plant gets to be eight to ten feet tall.”
“That’s a big carrot.”
“It’s very poisonous. It’s been in the U.S. for years, but now it’s moving further into the country. We expect it to be everywhere in the next few years.” Peggy pulled up a file on hogweed. “People are badly burned by the sap from it. They’ve even gone blind. It creates a burn effect not that much different than some forms of acid. There are terrible blisters that don’t go away, sometimes for years.”
Mai looked at the pictures on the computer. “And you think this is what caused the burns on Ms. Honohan’s body?”
“I think it was the main ingredient in a particularly deadly cocktail of plants that burned her skin so badly that it melted her clothes into it, caused her to go into shock, and die.”
“Can you isolate the rest of the compound?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Peggy promised.
“But first, get in touch with Paul,” Mai said. “He could be involved in this somehow. He could be hurt or dead.”
“I’ll find him. Don’t worry.”
Mai hugged Peggy, something unusual for her. She righted her lab coat, nodded, and left the room.
Despite her common sense words to Mai, Peggy was becoming even more nervous.
Finding Paul’s PI business card at the crime scene wasn’t a good sign. He needed to clear this up before the evidence went from the medical examiner’s office to the police department. Mai was right in her estimation of what would happen—Paul would be linked to the murder.
She didn’t waste time trying to contact her son again. She called Al and asked him to check on Paul.
If her son was all right, she wanted to hear from him. Peggy didn’t explain to her old friend why it was so important that she talk to Paul. Al didn’t ask, always happy to help if he could.
Peggy decided there was no point in leaving the ME’s office until she heard from Paul. She spent what little time was left of the morning trying to isolate the other plants in the mixture that had coated the inside of the mink Ms. H
onohan was wearing.
For a while she was so deeply involved in trying to decide what plant enzymes were in the goo that she forgot about Paul calling her. It startled her when her cell phone rang, and she bumped into the microscope.
It was Steve. He was taking a break at lunch and wanted to thank her for the text she’d sent him. “It was a great reminder of how boring the conference is and how much I want to take a nap.”
She smiled at the sound of his voice. “I’m sorry. If I was feeling it, I knew you would be too.”
“And I didn’t get the fringe benefits from being up too early either since you had to run to the shop,” he joked.
Peggy smiled. “Fringe benefits? Is that what they’re calling it now?”
Steve’s voice was more serious when he changed the subject. “I took a look at the pictures Millie sent me. That was some job the vandals did at your place. Millie says she’s checking into this thing with Sam. Have you heard anything else about it?”
“Not about that.” Peggy quickly explained about finding Paul’s business card at the murder scene.
“It might not even be your Paul Lee,” he suggested. “Is it his information?”
Hopefully, Peggy looked at the card again. “There’s no address. I don’t recognize the phone number. Maybe you’re right. I hope you’re right for everyone’s sake.”
“Have you tried calling the number yet?”
“No. Mai and I have been calling Paul all morning, but on his cell phone. I guess we just assumed it was him.”
“I have to go. Call the number on the card. Don’t assume until you know for sure. I love you. I hope you figure out what’s going on.”
“I love you too. Thanks for brightening my day.”
“You’ll figure this out, sweetheart. You always do.”
It was lunchtime when she got off the phone. Peggy decided to get out in the sunshine, hoping to de-stress a little. She left her white coat behind and grabbed her handbag. She tried to get Mai to come with her, but she was too anxious about her job and Paul to leave her desk.
Outside, the weather had continued warming. The sunshine was a blessing pouring down on her as she thought about what to eat.
Most days, she met Steve at home for lunch. With him gone, she decided to visit the food trucks that were always parked on the street outside the ME’s office. There were picnic tables where she could sit and eat in the sun as she tried to reach her son.
Peggy was in line at the taco food truck when a blue and white police cruiser pulled into the drive.
Paul poked his head out and grinned at her. “What already? I’ve got like a million texts and voicemails from you and Mai. If you’re getting tacos, get three for me. Where’s Mai?”
Peggy stared at her son’s bright red hair that was cut in a flat top. His laughing green eyes revealed that he thought the whole thing was amusing. She wasn’t sure if she should kiss him or hit him.
“Where have you been? All you had to do was answer one of those millions of texts or voice messages, and no one would’ve bothered you again. Mai isn’t eating lunch because she’s so worried about you.”
Paul’s lean face, that reminded her so much of John’s, lost its humorous expression. “Is that why you called Al? What’s going on? Is she all right? Is Rosie okay?”
“Just park the car, and if you’re lucky, I’ll get you lunch. But I’ll warn you in advance that it comes with an angry mother.”
“Okay. I’ll go in and see Mai first. Meet you over there at the picnic table. Get her something too. She needs to eat.”
Peggy finally reached the tiny window in the taco food truck. She ordered the same thing for all three of them—vegetable tacos with cheese. She didn’t waste any time trying to come up with individual food choices. She was impatient to know what was going on.
She could see Mai arguing with Paul all the way out of the building through the front glass panels. The couple met Peggy at the wooden table beneath the sprawling magnolia tree, still fighting.
“I shouldn’t even be out here.” Mai was yelling at him. “You’ve compromised my position here. Everything I’ve worked for could be lost. What were you thinking?”
“If you’d just give me a chance to explain.” He tried to reason with her.
Peggy held on to the food and drink boxes. She hoped they’d finish before the food was ruined.
“Just one thing,” Mai said. “Are you or are you not working as a private investigator?”
Paul’s green eyes, so much like Peggy’s, were deadly serious when he admitted the truth. “Yes. I’m working as a private investigator.”
Henbit
Henbit is part of the mint family. Its popular name comes from watching chickens eat it, thus deeming it fit for human consumption during pioneer days. Hummingbirds and honeybees enjoy the tiny purple flowers too. The plant is often used for erosion control and is the first to bloom in the spring.
Chapter Eight
“What?”
Both women asked the question at the same time with equal amounts of anger and astonishment.
“I’m sorry.” Paul took two tacos and started eating. “I’ve only got a few minutes, and I’m hungry.”
Mai knocked the tacos from his hand to the ground. “And you think you’re just going to sit here and eat like nothing’s happening? What do you mean you’re working as a private investigator? That’s completely crazy. When were you planning to tell me?”
Paul faced her wrath. “I figured out last year—when Harry was here—that he could get a lot more done outside the police than I’ll ever be able to working in the system.”
“Is this about your father?” Peggy asked.
“Yes. In just that short time working with Harry, we learned more about Dad’s death—and the circumstances surrounding it—than I had in ten years. Everyone wants to look away from it. Al keeps telling me they’ll figure it out. But they aren’t figuring it out—the case file is sitting in lockup somewhere. It’s not on anyone’s desk. We have no idea what really happened to him.”
Mai sighed heavily and handed him one of her tacos. “I understand. But you can’t run around telling people you’re a private investigator when you work for the police.”
He bit into his taco. “It’s the best recommendation in the world. People trust me because of it. They’re willing to talk to me.”
“You know that Steve is looking into your father’s death,” Peggy reminded him.
Paul grimaced. “No offense to Steve, but how do we know he wasn’t involved with Dad’s death? We know they were working together, and that he was in love with you.”
Peggy was horrified by his statement. “Steve didn’t kill your father to get to me. They were working together on something for the FBI. It happens—you know it happens.”
“What about the missing file that was taken from the library last year at the house?” he demanded. “Did he ever admit to taking it? He didn’t know it wasn’t the only copy. He was trying to keep us from knowing what happened to Dad. Why can’t you see that?”
“I don’t think it’s true. Steve wouldn’t do that.”
He drank half of his soda in a single gulp. “You don’t want to see it because you fell for him.”
“And you became a private investigator to prove Steve is guilty of some misdoing with your father?” Mai asked. “That’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard. What about me? You didn’t think about what would happen if something you did as a private investigator ended up on my desk.”
Paul wiped his hands on a napkin. “I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t done much investigating. I’ve done a few things for extra money, but that’s not the point of getting my PI license. I just didn’t want to spend any of our money on anything.”
“We found your business card at the scene of a murder today,” Mai told him. “I have to enter it into evidence. Your friend, Lieutenant McDonald, is going to want to know why it was there.”
“Where?” he
asked. “What murder?”
“At the condominiums on Providence Road,” Peggy told him. “Nita Honohan was found dead this morning.”
He appeared stunned by the information. “That’s crazy. I didn’t do a job for her. That was a simple delivery. It paid well, and it was easy to find her. I gave her my business card at her door. I never even went inside. How did she die?”
“We think she was poisoned by a topical solution that worked like acid on her skin causing her to go into shock,” Peggy explained.
“Why were you there?” Mai demanded. “What did you deliver?”
He shrugged. “I delivered a gift in a big box. I don’t know what it was. Her friend wanted to surprise her on her birthday. I took the job—it paid a thousand dollars—looked her up, and delivered the package last night.”
Mai pushed her silky black hair back from her face. “He’s going to be on the video dropping off the mink to her.”
Peggy put the food and drink boxes on the ground. “Do you have something from this client who hired you to deliver the box?”
“Hopefully something showing she bought the coat from the fur store and then signed a document saying she wanted you to deliver it,” Mai added.
“I only met her once at Providence Cafe. We had coffee, and she gave me the cash. She already had the box. I got it from her and looked up Ms. Honohan, and then delivered it to her. I already deposited the money in the bank.”
“What was her name—the woman who hired you?” Peggy’s throat felt so tight that she could hardly speak.
“Her name was Hood. Mary Hood. I’ve got her cell phone number here somewhere. I don’t have an address. What’s wrong, Mom? Are you okay?”
Magnolia
The stately magnolia, long considered the epitome of Southern plant life, has been deemed ‘messy and possibly not desirable’ to assist home sales by real estate agents because of the tree’s leaf and fruit litter. Some agents have even gone so far as to advise homeowners to cut down their magnolia trees for faster sales.
