Fruit of the Poisoned Tree

by Joyce; Jim Lavene

  Al and Jonas sat down awkwardly in the tiny room. Peggy knew it was Beth’s favorite place in the house. The small fireplace was surrounded by brightly colored enamel tiles that created a mural using the fire in the grate as the sun in the sunset scene. The four chairs were in shades of orange, and the burnt orange Shirvan kilim rug on the wood floor enhanced the warm images.

  “We appreciate your cooperation, Mrs. Lamonte. Let’s start by asking where you were last night between six and ten p.m., Mrs. Lamonte?” Al asked as he shifted uncomfortably in the small chair.

  “I was here. I think I was resting after dinner. My housekeeper, Alice Godwin, was here with the children until nine. Then I got up and put them to bed.”

  “So you were in your bedroom the whole time?” Jonas suggested. “Did you talk to your housekeeper or your children during that time? Did they see you?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I was exhausted, as I’m sure you can appreciate, Lieutenant. I was in my room with the door closed the whole time. The kids can get pretty loud playing games.”

  Al and Jonas exchanged meaningful glances. It reminded Peggy so much of Sergeant Joe Friday and Officer Bill Gannon from Dragnet that she almost laughed. She controlled the smile she hid behind her hand and focused on what was happening.

  “Well, one thing Peggy couldn’t tell you, since we managed to keep her out of the crime scene,” Al explained, “is that your mother-in-law managed to write a single letter in her own blood before she died. It was clearly a B.”

  “That doesn’t mean I did anything. In the ten years I knew her, Isabelle never called me Beth. You can ask anyone. She always called me Elizabeth. She was very formal. But I’m sure there are plenty of people with B as an initial. I was home all night last night. I didn’t hurt Isabelle.”

  Jonas got to his feet and paced the tiny room like a caged cat. “Come on, Mrs. Lamonte. You expect us to believe you weren’t angry at your mother-in-law’s accusation about your husband’s death? She said you killed him. We know she accused you to your face right in your home, in front of your friends. That must have made you upset. Maybe you didn’t mean to hurt her when you went over there. Maybe you just wanted to shut her up and things got out of hand.”

  “Isabelle Lamonte meant her accusation metaphorically, Lieutenant, I’m sure,” Gary intervened. “Mrs. Lamonte and my client didn’t get along well, not an unusual relationship in families. When she said my client killed her husband, she meant in the sense that she wasn’t good enough for him. But anyone who knew Isabelle knew how she felt about the relationship. It wasn’t a secret.”

  “That’s not the impression we were under, Mr. Rusch,” Jonas said. “Isabelle Lamonte was explicit. She believed your client actively killed Mr. Lamonte for the ten million dollar life insurance policy. She told us that her daughter-in-law actually killed her son. There was nothing metaphoric about it.”

  “Not that it matters, Lieutenant. As my client told you,” Gary reiterated, “she was here with the children all evening. I think that’s about all we have to say on the matter.”

  Jonas glared at Beth, clearly not satisfied. “I hope you’ll advise your client to work with us, sir. This isn’t over yet. We’re conducting a more in-depth autopsy on Mr. Lamonte and checking out the car again as well as continuing the investigation into what happened to Isabelle Lamonte. If we find anything out of the ordinary, we’ll be back. Maybe with an arrest warrant. And we want to talk with your housekeeper. I need her name and address.”

  Gary smiled, unruffled by the threat. “If that time comes, Lieutenant, we’ll be here. You’re welcome to the housekeeper’s name and address.”

  Al and Jonas left after Beth wrote down Alice’s full name and phone number. She wasn’t sure about her address. Al remarked on the fact that the two households shared the same housekeeper.

  Beth shook her head. “I’m sure you’re mistaken, Detective McDonald. I don’t think Alice has ever worked for Isabelle.”

  Checking his notebook, Al replied, “I have her finding Mrs. Lamonte last night. She said she’s worked for her for years.”

  “He’s telling you the truth,” Peggy chimed in. “I—uh—overheard the same thing outside.”

  “Overheard, huh?” Jonas remarked.

  “I-I don’t know what to say.” Beth glanced at Peggy and Gary.

  “Does this have some bearing on the case, Detective?” Gary asked him.

  Al shrugged. “I’m not sure yet, Mr. Rusch. It might. Talk to you later, Peggy.”

  The lawyer showed Al and Jonas to the front door. Beth hid her face in her hands. “I can’t believe this is happening to me. Isn’t it enough that Park is dead? Why is this happening?”

  Peggy didn’t know what to say. Gary came back and sat on the side of the chair beside Beth. “Sorry about that. We don’t want to give them the impression we’re not cooperating. You need to think back, Beth. Maybe Alice saw you some time last night when you went downstairs for some water or you asked how the children were doing. Maybe she looked in on you while you were resting. She was worried about you. It would be a spontaneous thing to do.”

  His meaning was clear. Peggy’s eyebrows raised, and Beth stared at him. “I didn’t do anything, Gary. I’m not going to ask Alice to lie for me.”

  He shrugged, quite elegantly for wearing flannel, Peggy thought, watching him. “You have to know the police will be back whether they find anything wrong about Park’s death or not,” he informed her. “It isn’t a big stretch of the imagination for anyone to think you could sneak out when no one was looking, push Isabelle down the stairs, and come back. Her house is only a few minutes’ walk from here.”

  “It took me about five minutes, maybe.” Peggy squeezed Beth’s hand again. “I agree with Gary. I don’t think it’s over either. But there’s no reason to lie about it. The evidence will prove you innocent.”

  Gary got to his feet and glanced at his Rolex. “I’m just trying to help. I would rather nip this in the bud than fight it in court. You know we’ll all do whatever we can for you, Beth, but a B drawn in the old lady’s blood is pretty dramatic. All those friends of yours who heard Isabelle say you killed her son will testify for the DA against you, whether they want to or not. Having Alice say she glanced in and saw you sleeping seems easier to me. But you do what you think is right.”

  “Thanks, Gary.” Beth shook his hand.

  Was it Peggy’s imagination or did his hand linger on Beth’s a little longer than was necessary?

  “I wish I could handle this for you, but I’m swamped. I’ll send someone from the firm over to help you out.” He smiled and hugged Beth, his hands sliding up and down her slender back, pressing her closer to him.

  Peggy frowned. Really, the man had no sense of propriety!

  Beth closed the door behind the attorney and leaned against it.

  “I hope whoever he sends is better than Mr. Rusch,” Peggy said.

  “Gary’s a very good attorney. Park always said so.”

  “Maybe. But I wouldn’t want him on my side!”

  “What else can I do?”

  “I know just the right person,” Peggy took out her cell phone. “I’ll give her a call.”

  Hunter Ollson was there in twenty minutes. She was tall, blond, and beautiful, more like a fashion model for Fitness Today than an attorney. She hugged Peggy when she saw her, dropping her briefcase on the wood floor. “I’m so happy to see you! You called at just the right time. I was trying to decide if I should give up being a lawyer and go into wrestling. I defended a lady wrestler last month. Do you realize how much money they make? The Warner case made me notorious in this town. All I can get now is DUI sports figures and race car drivers who slap their fans.”

  Peggy laughed. Hunter was always a breath of fresh air. “Beth, this is Hunter Ollson. She’s Sam’s sister.”

  Beth shook Hunter’s hand. “I remember your name. You defended Mr. Cheever when he was accused of killing that man in Peggy’s shop. Hello, Hunter.
I’m Beth Lamonte.”

  “Hello. I’m so sorry for your loss and this other mess. I hope I can help.” Hunter picked up her briefcase, and the three women went into the dining room. From the kitchen, they could hear Foxx and Reddman’s laughter as they helped Beth’s parents make cookies. “Wow! Something smells good.”

  “Would you like a gingerbread man?” Beth went into the other room and came back with a tray of cookies.

  “Thanks.” Hunter munched one, exclaiming when it was hot but continuing to eat. “I didn’t have time for breakfast. Sam was supposed to bring pizza by last night and got held up somewhere else or with someone else.”

  “He was probably with his boyfriend of the-month.” Peggy rolled her eyes. “I wish that boy would settle down. He told me his grades dropped, and your father yelled at him. I can’t believe he’d give up so easy as much as he wanted to be a doctor.”

  Beth laughed. “I suppose when you look like Sam, it’s easy to get distracted.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re supposed to forget your starving sister and drop out of college,” Hunter argued. She drank a glass of milk Foxx brought in for her in one gulp, then looked at Peggy and Beth with a white mustache on her upper lip. “Uh—sorry. Did either of you want some?”

  Both women smiled and assured her they didn’t. Peggy handed her a napkin as Hunter opened her briefcase and took out a pen and a yellow legal pad. “Okay, I’m ready. What happened?”

  Peggy let Beth tell the story on her own. Hunter took notes and nodded. When Beth was finished, Hunter glanced up at Peggy. “How did you get involved with this? Were you here because you’re a friend of the family?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Hunter made a chuckling sound in the back of her throat. “I thought not. Okay, Peggy. What do you know about all this?”

  Peggy told her everything she knew about what happened, including the fact that Alice Godwin found Isabelle dead. She also told her about Cindy Walker being at the house. “She could have made that B with her blood after finding her. I don’t know when she got there but she hates Beth enough to want to implicate her.”

  After hearing from Peggy, the three women tried to plot a strategy for getting Beth out of trouble. It was difficult since they didn’t have all the information on either case. Hunter finished writing her notes in a broad scrawl across the yellow paper. “There’s nothing anyone can do until they finish the autopsies on Park and Isabelle.”

  “Will they do an autopsy on Isabelle even though they know how she died?” Beth looked at Peggy.

  “Any questionable death demands an autopsy,” Peggy quoted John. “And that could be good for you. Maybe Isabelle died of natural causes and fell down the steps. The B might not mean anything.”

  “That doesn’t explain her cane being on the chair,” Hunter reminded her. “Or the dragon’s head missing from it. Of course, we still have the chance the old lady died of natural causes and someone found her and moved the cane. Maybe took the dragon’s head since it was probably valuable. Maybe even drew the B in her blood to try to implicate Beth. I’ll check out Cindy Walker’s and Alice Godwin’s alibis. We’ll have to wait for the autopsy report and crime scene disclosure. But so will the police.”

  “What do I do in the meantime?” Beth asked.

  “Don’t talk to anyone unless I’m with you,” Hunter advised as she glanced at her notes. “That means the police, the press. Anybody. Got it?”

  “All right,” Beth agreed.

  “What about this life insurance policy?” Hunter’s warm blue gaze flashed up to her new client’s face.

  “She didn’t know anything about it,” Peggy defended her.

  Beth cleared her throat. “That’s not entirely true.”

  The other two women stared at her.

  “Park told me about it. I-I was just so stunned when he died. I forgot.”

  “Well, try not to forget anything else,” Hunter said, closing her briefcase. “Especially if it involves money. The police are looking for anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Lots of our friends have large life insurance policies,” Beth commented. “It’s not out of the ordinary.”

  “When the police think you may be responsible for two deaths, everything becomes out of the ordinary. Your life is going to be scrutinized down to the sheets in your linen closet. Don’t keep any secrets for me to find out from them. It will only hurt your case.”

  Beth looked away but didn’t reply. Peggy bit her lip, feeling sure there was something else her friend was holding back. “I think there might be something to Alice Godwin working for both Beth and Isabelle.”

  “The housekeeper?” Hunter checked her notes. “Wasn’t she here with Beth and the boys during that time?”

  “She left here at about nine,” Beth recalled. “If she went out before then, I don’t know about it.”

  “Isabelle may have paid her to spy on Beth,” Peggy explained. “I’m not sure how that would relate to everything that’s happened, but Alice had access to both houses.”

  “I’ll check into it.” Hunter got to her feet. “If you think of anything else, let me know.”

  Beth stood and held out her hand. “Thank you for coming. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “You’re welcome.” Hunter’s face turned a little red. “Uh—there’s a little thing about a retainer.” She named a figure. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

  Peggy was astonished. “That’s ridiculous!”

  Hunter immediately backed down. “Okay. What do you think is fair?”

  “No wonder you don’t have money for food,” Peggy continued. “Your retainer should be double that.”

  The young attorney glanced at Beth, then back at Peggy. “Maybe we should talk about this later. Like not in front of the client.”

  Beth laughed as she put her hand on Hunter’s arm. “My husband was a lawyer. Peggy’s right. I’ll get my checkbook, if a personal check is okay?”

  “A personal check is fine,” Hunter gushed. “Or any other kind of check. Or I take Visa and MasterCard.”

  After Beth gave Hunter a check for the retainer, almost triple the amount she was asking, Peggy hugged her and told her not to worry. “Hunter is very bright. If anyone can get you out of this, she can.”

  “Thank you, Peggy.” Beth hugged her tightly, tears in her voice. “I don’t know what I’d do without you right now. Thanks, too, for not getting angry with me when I asked you to investigate Park’s death. I was out of my head.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Peggy said. “I know how hard it is for you right now. But everything will work out. I’m sure of it.”

  “I’ll be in touch if I hear anything, Beth.” Hunter shook her hand again.

  “Thank you.” Beth endured Hunter’s hearty handshake. “I’m glad you could represent me.”

  “Could you give me a lift?” Peggy asked Hunter. “I’d like to go over to the Potting Shed for a while.”

  “Sure. Are you ready?”

  “I am. Thanks. Call me if you need anything, Beth,” Peggy told her friend as she put on her purple jacket and scarf again.

  “I will. Let’s pray the autopsies take care of all of this. I’d like to think Park and Isabelle are at peace.” Beth opened the front door for them. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  As they walked to the SUV in the drive, Hunter whispered to Peggy, “Do I have to give back the retainer if the autopsies clear her?”

  Peggy laughed as she got in the vehicle. “I don’t think so. Don’t they tell you what to charge and how it works when you’re in school?”

  Hunter slammed her door closed and started the engine. “I think that’s supposed to come from your mentor, the first person who hires you out of school. You know what happened to him. He only taught me older men still want to fool around.”

  “And you taught him that women today can pack a wallop.” Peggy watched Park’s house fade behind them. “I remember that. I suppose there wasn’t much time for financial l
essons.”

  “Except you don’t punch out a senior partner at a major law firm without serious financial difficulties.” Hunter turned the vehicle toward downtown, the streets almost devoid of traffic. “Next time, I’ll just walk out and sue his ass. That’s the legal way to do it.”

  It only took a few minutes to get to the shop. Most of the snow and ice were gone, and the only people out were walking their dogs or taking the opportunity to play in the street. Homemade sleds were everywhere, made from everything from boxes to sheets of plastic. It couldn’t be easy to try to glide down the wet slush, but it looked like fun.

  Hunter got out with Peggy to go into the shop. “Wish I was a kid again. I used to love snow days.”

  “I have some black plastic we use to keep weeds from growing around bushes,” Peggy volunteered. “You could try it out on what’s left of the snow.”

  “No thanks.” Hunter smiled. “I got something even better today. Money! And I’m going to buy myself a new suit as soon as I chew out my brother for forgetting me last night.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Peggy opened the back door to the shop.

  “You do think Beth is innocent, right?” Hunter’s attractive face was serious as they stood in the shadows of the courtyard and Latta Arcade.

  “I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t,” Peggy assured her. “You’re one of the good guys. I know you wouldn’t want to represent someone capable of killing her husband and his mother.”

  Hunter considered the matter. “Probably not. Well, at least not without charging her triple what I got today.” She grinned at Peggy but sobered immediately when she saw her brother. “There you are! You are dead meat unless you have a pizza on you!” She hit him hard in the stomach as he transported a hundred pound bag of fertilizer to the loading dock.

  Sam groaned but managed to get the heavy bag on top of the pile where he wanted it. “Are you crazy? What would I be doing with a pizza?”

  “Remember? You were supposed to bring one over last night. What happened?”

  “Oh yeah.” He rubbed his stomach where she hit him. “Sorry. I got caught up with something.”