Fruit of the Poisoned Tree plgm-2

by Joyce Lavene

  “I will. She’s still waiting to find out what it’s like being a retired detective’s wife. How’s it going with Steve? I assume the two of you are still together.”

  “As far as I know,” she quipped. “I was on my way to get obedience classes for Shakespeare. Our relationship might hinge on whether or not Steve has to take care of him again the way he is.”

  Al laughed heartily. “I can imagine. The bigger the dog, the bigger the trouble.”

  When he was gone and the heavy front door closed behind him, Peggy heard the boys crying in the kitchen. Park was so close to them. Even though he was gone a lot, he never missed their important events. They were going to be devastated by his death.

  She stood by the door awkwardly, not wanting to interrupt their grief. A large aspidistra was in a tall iron planter behind her. She took a few minutes to pull off some dead brown fronds. Really, it wasn’t the best place for the plant. They liked warm, contained areas better. The door opening and closing let in too much cold air.

  She finally went into the back of the house. Beth was hugging both boys to her as the three of them sobbed. It had to be one of the most heartrending things she’d ever seen. She wished she could scoop them all up in an embrace that would take away the pain. But nothing so simple would help them.

  Knowing there was nothing she could do for them, she tidied up the kitchen. The same large gift basket she received at the hotel was at one end of the counter. It was open, most of the fruit spoiled. She was surprised Park kept it. She’d left hers at the hotel, since it was too big to take on the plane without being a nuisance. She pushed the open jar of jam and almost-empty jar of honey to the back of the cabinet and threw away the rotten fruit.

  Looking around for something else to do, Peggy thought about Beth’s parents. They lived in Salisbury, about an hour away. Beth was going to need them. Finding the number on the side of the refrigerator, Peggy gave them a call.

  IT WAS AMAZING HOW quickly things could change. Park fell asleep and died on the interstate. Now the police were questioning his death. Could he have committed suicide? She was sure anything was possible. No one knew what was in his mind as he started across the overpass. But she didn’t think he’d give up without a fight. It wasn’t like him.

  But Al could be right. She couldn’t deny it, much as she wanted to. Maybe Park was afraid of a continued financial slide. No doubt he drove himself too hard chasing the almighty dollar. But he was very levelheaded, very calm. It seemed to her suicide would take a wild moment of insane passion. Maybe it happened that way. Then again, maybe the insurance company was capable of creating doubt in their minds, but it was only lack of sleep that pushed Park over the edge. She hoped the investigation would be quick, and the answer would be in Beth’s favor.

  “I sent the boys upstairs.” Beth put her hand on Peggy’s shoulder. “Thank you for staying and calling Mom and Dad. I know I’m going to need them. I think I’ll call Alice and see if she can come over for a while, too. If I’m going to fight this suicide charge, I’m going to need all my concentration. I can’t believe this is happening. Everything seemed so normal when I got up this morning.”

  Peggy agreed it was a good idea to call Alice, the part-time housekeeper and nanny. She was lucky Paul was an adult when John died. It was hard enough for an adult to understand when something like this happened. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help.”

  “I know. You’re so dear.” Beth’s brow knitted, and she stroked it with her shaking fingers. “He couldn’t have done this. Not Park. He felt so strongly about suicide. You remember when his father died a few years back. He was in terrible pain. Park’s mother thought they should help him die. She even said she knew a doctor who would help him. Park refused to do it. He hated that his father was in pain, but he believed suicide was wrong. He was tortured by not helping him. Isabelle never let him forget. Park wouldn’t kill himself over anything.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Peggy didn’t want to argue with her. There would no doubt be a full investigation. She believed the truth would come out. She hoped it was what Beth wanted to hear. “Just ignore everything and get you and the boys on an even keel. Let everyone else do their jobs. I’m glad Al thought about you calling a lawyer. Do you know someone?”

  “Almost all of Park’s friends are lawyers.” Beth laughed. “That’s one good thing about being married to one, I suppose. I’m sure one of them will be willing to help me.”

  Peggy waited there with Beth while family and friends began to filter into the house after hearing about Park’s death. There was a shocked, stunned look to all their faces when she opened the front door. Whether they were thinking Park had committed suicide or just couldn’t believe he was gone was impossible to say. When Beth’s parents arrived, Peggy told her friend she’d be back later and left the crowded house.

  She took a deep breath of fresh air, clean and sweet, after being closed in the house all day with so much grief. She was exhausted despite the fact that she hadn’t really done any physical work. It would be less tiring to go out and plant a thousand tulip bulbs than stand by helplessly and watch death ruin someone else’s life.

  The weather was worse. Heavy clouds promised snow or sleet. Peggy pulled her coat closer and wrapped her scarf around her neck. It would be unusual for it to snow this month but not unheard of. Somehow it fit with what happened to Park. Snow was the ultimate concealer. It could hide a multitude of sins, changing a brown, drab landscape to a sparkling wonderland.

  Let it snow, she prayed with her eyes closed. Let it help all of us through this terrible time.

  “Margaret,” a familiar voice hailed her.

  There were only a few people who called her by her given name. Her mother wasn’t there. It could only be . . . “Mrs. Lamonte.” Peggy took a deep breath as she opened her eyes and faced her.

  She knew most of what she felt about the older woman was still tinged with adolescent anger about the times Park’s mother wouldn’t let him do what he wanted. Parties she wouldn’t let him go to. Friends she forbade him to see. It was stupid, really, and she needed to get over it. She and Park joked about it sometimes, but she couldn’t keep holding it against the old woman. “I’m sorry we have to see each other at such a tragic time. I’m so sorry about Park’s death.”

  The Dragon Queen looked down her long, straight nose. Her thin lips never came near a smile. Sallow cheeks, sunken in with age and disappointment, lent her face a look usually only accorded death masks. Her elegant black coat enfolded her emaciated body, hiding the skin barely covering bone from view. But the black made her look even more like an evil caricature of a witch. “Never mind all that fine sentiment. Where’s his wife?”

  “If you mean Beth, she’s inside.” Okay. Maybe not all of what she felt about Isabelle was left over from her college days. “Her parents are here with her and the boys.”

  “Who else would I mean? Don’t be obtuse, girl.”

  Peggy took a deep breath. She knew Isabelle was suffering. Park was her only child. But she was suffering, too. She didn’t want to put up with this woman’s rude attitude more than she had to. “I was just leaving. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.” She ended their conversation curtly and started to walk away.

  “The police visited me,” Isabelle called after her. “He didn’t commit suicide, you know. That’s unacceptable. My son wasn’t made that way. I raised him better than that. Talk to your husband. Have him explain to the police.”

  “I’d be happy to do that if it were possible,” Peggy assured her. “But John was killed a few years back. There’s not much I can do.”

  Without a word of sympathy for her loss, Isabelle Lamonte brushed her aside. “You’re no good to me then. Might as well go home. Take all those regrets with you. No use for them.”

  Peggy watched the haughty old woman go into the house after a sharp rap at the door with her ivory-headed cane. Everyone who knew Park well sympathized with him over his m
other.

  Old newspapers from the 1940s showed a different side to the woman. Peggy had seen some of them once when she was helping John clean out the attic.

  During that time, Isabelle was the reigning queen of society in Charlotte. She married Park’s father, a prominent lawyer who took over his father’s prosperous law firm. They built a life for themselves in Myers Park with their large, showpiece house where they entertained important people from government and the arts. Isabelle was beautiful back then, but there was a harshness to her eyes and mouth even in the black-and-white photos.

  After Park’s father died in the 1970s, Isabelle mostly kept to herself. She occasionally surfaced to manipulate her son or some other family member. She was behind Park’s failed marriage to Cindy Walker, a protégé of hers, as well as his attempt to run for city council. Mother and son were never close, but after those failures, they became even more distant. Peggy actually found herself feeling sorry for the Dragon Queen when she saw her from time to time around the city. It couldn’t be easy living her lonely life.

  Unlocking her bike, Peggy got ready for the long, cold trip back to the Potting Shed. There were times when she wasn’t sure if her commitment to the environment was worth another long ride home. Especially in the winter. But she supposed it was as good for her health to ride the bike as it was for the Carolina blue sky.

  A green Saturn Vue pulled up at the end of the drive, and a big, sloppy smile spread across her face. Steve rolled down the car window and grinned at her. “Need a ride?”

  “Not really. My bike is fine.” She was joking, of course. She was disgustingly happy to see him. Steve Newsome had become very important to her in a very short time.

  The grin faded from his handsome face. “I came all this way so you wouldn’t have to ride back after everything that happened today.” He opened the car door and started around the back of the Vue. “You have to come with me. You don’t have any choice. The ozone can handle this trip.”

  She laughed. “I was just kidding. Thank you for coming. It’s been a terrible day.” She grabbed him and hugged him tight, planting a large kiss on his cool lips right in front of all of Myers Park. Her mother would swoon to see it. A lady never kissed a gentleman in public.

  “That’s more like it.” He kissed her back, then took the bike from her and put it in the cargo space alongside cat carriers and bags of dog food, all tools of his profession. “I’m sorry about your friend. Sam told me when I called. I hate that you had to be there when it happened. Would you like to talk about it?”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m not sorry I was there.” She walked around to the passenger side. “I’m glad I was there with him when he died. But I know I’ll see that car going over the guardrail for the rest of my life. I knew it was him. I don’t know how. I can’t explain it. There are only about a thousand burgundy Lincolns in this town. But I knew.”

  He got in the warm car and covered her hand with one of his. “I’m sure he was glad you were there, too. I know it had to be terrible for you. If there’s anything I can do, you know I’m here. Feel free to call me anytime you see the car going over the rail again. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you.”

  She leaned over and kissed him again, looking into his clear brown eyes that she thought were so ordinary when she first met him. Why had she thought that? He was the most extraordinary person she knew! “Thank you. I’m really glad you’re in my life.”

  “Coincidentally, so am I!” He glanced at the house. “How’s his wife doing?”

  “As well as she can.” She told him about the police considering Park’s death a suicide. “She didn’t need that right now. Not that anyone ever does. Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

  “You don’t think it’s possible?”

  “Not really.” She shrugged, wishing she could be more definite. “But I don’t know. John used to tell me people will do anything if they’re pushed. He saw some terrible things happen to good people. I don’t know all the details yet. But maybe Park was in a bad place. Maybe he felt this was his only way out. I won’t believe it until someone proves it to me, Steve. And I hope it’s not true for Beth’s sake. It’s not just the insurance money either. There’s the stigma she’d have to live with and the unanswered questions.”

  “You’re right. No one should have to ask those questions.” Steve shook himself free of the events that hung over them both like the dismal turn the weather had taken. “I guess we’ll all have to hope for the best. That’s all we can do anyway. So. Where are we going now?”

  “I need to go back to the shop and close up. Shakespeare is still there, too.”

  “I got a call from Rue when you didn’t show up.” He turned right and started down Providence Road. “She was worried about you. I told her what happened.”

  “I totally forgot about that! Thanks for covering for me. I’ll call her back and see if I can reschedule.” She glanced at him. “How did you know?”

  “Sam told me when I called the shop.”

  Peggy sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry he bothered you with this.”

  “Bothered me?” There was a slight edge to his tone. “You’re an important part of my life, Peggy. This was a major happening in your life. I don’t think letting me know would classify as bothering me.”

  She could tell he was a little riled up over being left out. She hadn’t thought of it that way. “I’m sorry. It’s still very new sharing these things with you. I’ve been alone for a while. That’s my only excuse. And I guess I really didn’t want to let on to Sam about how upset I was. Sometimes they treat me like I’m made of china!”

  “Okay. As long as you weren’t excluding me because you thought I couldn’t take it. I called the shop to see if you wanted to have dinner tonight. Sam told me what happened. I wish you would’ve called me.”

  “I know. I promise from now on when really terrible things happen to me, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Good thing. You know what magazines say men are like when they get their feelings hurt. You don’t want to take one of those compatibility tests or anything, right?”

  She laughed. “Not right now. But if your offer for dinner is still good, I’d like to do that after we drop Shakespeare off.”

  “Sounds good to me. I’ll help you get the shop closed up.”

  But when they got to the shop, it was more cleanup than close up. Selena had locked the front door and gone into the back storage area for a few minutes to help a customer load some peat moss. When she came back, Shakespeare had ripped open a few dozen bags of potting soil and dragged them across the old wood floor.

  Selena didn’t realize she was playing his game as she chased him across the shop, spreading the mess everywhere as planters, pots, and gardening implements fell down in their wake. She grabbed him around the neck and tried to wrestle him to the floor. Shakespeare thought it was a new game. He rolled with her still holding on to him through the spring garden scene.

  That’s where Peggy came in. “What in the world happened here?”

  Selena looked up from under the demolished snowman. “It was a dog quake. I tried to stop it, but it was at least a seven on the canine scale.”

  Steve picked up a shovel lying across Shakespeare’s back. The dog looked up and wagged his tail. “Don’t try to get on my good side. I’m the one you dragged through the holly bush the other day.”

  “We have got to get you those obedience classes.” Peggy frowned at the dog.

  He whined and hid his head in his massive paws.

  “Bad dog!”

  They cleaned up the mess and took Selena home first after they left the shop. Dinner ended up at Steve’s house. Peggy didn’t want to go out. Besides being exhausted mentally and physically, she didn’t want to talk to anyone else yet about her experience with Park. The cocoon wouldn’t last long; only one night. Then the media would have done its job, and everyone would know. But she knew she’d be able to handle it bet
ter tomorrow.

  Feeling a little like another Southern woman who thought she could handle everything better tomorrow, she apologized to Steve for not being better company when he finally took her home. “Maybe you should’ve let me find my way back without you. All you got for your trouble was a mess at the shop and a lot of silence from me.”

  He kissed her good night at her door and told her it didn’t matter. “I love being with you no matter what. Besides, someday I might need you to be there for me. That’s what having a relationship is all about, right?”

  “Right. Thank you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Neither one of them were surprised when she didn’t invite him in out of the cold night. Peggy watched the headlights from his SUV fade into the darkness.

  She let herself in the house and dragged herself up the curving marble staircase to her bedroom. Shakespeare followed. He jumped on the bed beside her, wagging his tail and waiting for her to complete her nightly ritual of washing her face and putting on her nightclothes before he settled down.

  The house was familiar and quiet around her. The sounds from the old furnace in the basement reassured her as she closed her eyes, wishing she could shut out the world so easily. Even the prospect of visiting her botanical experiments couldn’t rouse any interest or excitement. She lay under the heavy green comforter, with her arm across Shakespeare’s neck, crying. People, good people, died too soon.

  Park’s death brought back all the old memories of losing John. She wasn’t prepared for them, thought they were behind her. But they rose again like terrible specters haunting her, chasing her through the night.

  She finally realized she wasn’t going to sleep that night. Her hand hovered over the phone as she thought about calling Steve. Shaking her head, she got up, changed clothes, and splashed some cold water in her face. “You’d better get a grip, Margaret Anne. This isn’t going to help anyone. Especially not you!” She studied her red-eyed, blotchy-faced reflection in the mirror over the bathroom sink. “I don’t think you want to see Steve looking like this! Let’s go take care of the plants.”