Fruit of the Poisoned Tree

by Joyce; Jim Lavene

  “What happened to him?”

  “He was interviewing me for a job.” Hunter laughed. “Pathetic, isn’t it? But it’s the best I can do. It’s not easy meeting men when you work twenty hours every day.”

  “I’ll have to see what I can do. You’re gorgeous! There’s no reason why any man shouldn’t be proud to be with you!”

  “Thanks but no thanks, Peggy. I don’t need to be matched up like Paul and Mai. They knew each other first anyway. I’m going online now to order some clothes. Maybe I’ll order up a boyfriend, too! Talk to you later.”

  Peggy went upstairs to change her clothes. The house was cold. She put on a purple sweatsuit and thick socks. She wouldn’t put her hands in the pond and get soaked tonight! That cantankerous old furnace was acting up again. She was going to have to give it a good kick when she got downstairs.

  But before she reached the basement, she heard knocking at the door. Shakespeare ran for the front foyer like a tan, furry rocket. He didn’t let up until he slammed headfirst into the heavy door. Even that impact only stunned him for a moment. But it was long enough for her to answer the door. “Mai! Come in! How are you?”

  “I’m fine, Peggy. I can’t believe the roads are freezing so fast.” She glanced at Shakespeare as he shook his head. “Is something wrong with your dog?”

  “Not really.” Peggy patted his head. “He’s a little wild right now. Thankfully, he’s hardheaded, too.” She took Mai’s coat and hat and hung them on a rack in the foyer. “Would you like some tea?”

  “That would be wonderful, thanks.” Mai rubbed her cold hands together. “I brought you a plant for a change.” She handed Peggy a wilted begonia. “My mother gave it to me. Do you think you can help it?”

  “I’m not sure.” Peggy examined the nearly dead plant. “I’ll do what I can. I think you may have overwatered. But you didn’t come here just to bring me a dead begonia.”

  “Not exactly. I hope you don’t mind me coming over without calling first. I really need to talk to you.”

  Peggy frowned. “Is it about Park or Isabelle?”

  “No. We aren’t finished with that yet. It’s about me and Paul.”

  “Oh!” Peggy led the way to the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I get so caught up in other people’s problems. Paul told me you two are house hunting.”

  “See, that’s the thing.” Mai sat down at the old oak table. She glanced around the room at the fragrant bunches of drying herbs on the wall and the shelf of seedlings in the window. “Paul wants us to move in together. I don’t think I’m ready. But he’s insistent. Very insistent. I don’t know what to do.”

  Peggy put some water in the copper kettle and set it on the stove to heat. This was exactly what she was afraid of. “Have you told him you aren’t ready?”

  “Dozens of times. He’s as hardheaded as Shakespeare. I don’t want to lose him. But I need some time. We’ve only been dating a few months. I’m not ready to give up my own place yet. Not to mention that he wants to buy a house to prove himself to me. I’m really not ready for that.”

  “I understand. When he told me about the house and the extra job, I was concerned he was pushing a little too hard. He was always like that as a child. He’d make a new friend and want to spend every waking moment with him. I guess he gets very attached very quickly.”

  Mai drew invisible patterns on the tabletop. “And I really like him. He’s fun to be with. We have a good time together. But I’m only getting started in my career. I don’t know if I want something so serious right now. Neither one of us makes much money either. I know I don’t want a house if Paul has to work all those hours to pay for it. It’s all we can do to find time together now with both of our schedules.”

  Peggy nodded as she brought the hot mugs of cranberry tea to the table and sat opposite Mai. “What can I do?”

  “I guess I was hoping you’d talk to him.” Mai sipped her tea, warming her hands on the mug. “I don’t want to break up with him over this. I want us to stay the way we are for a while.”

  “I’ll be glad to try to set him straight,” Peggy promised. “His father was the same way. John and I were married within a month after meeting. He followed me around until I thought I’d have to slap him to get him to go away. I told him I never wanted to see him again. He sent me magnolia flowers in the dead of winter. I still have no idea where he got them.”

  Mai grinned. “So what did you do?”

  “I guess I succumbed and married him. I wasn’t so sure about it, but he seemed sure enough for both of us. I never regretted the decision. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him, you see. It was just that it was too fast for me. John was always one step ahead.”

  “Then Paul does take after his father,” Mai agreed. “But I can’t do this right now, Peggy. Please see if you can get him to understand. I don’t want to hurt him.”

  Peggy agreed, and they talked about other things. They went downstairs to look at Peggy’s plants, and Mai tried to catch the bullfrog who laughed at her from the edge of the pond. She never even got close.

  Mai left an hour later after more tea and ginger cookies. They hugged quickly, then she disappeared into the night outside. After discussing her problem with Paul, they talked about everything else but her son. Peggy wasn’t sure if she could convince him to back down from getting the house. If Mai’s arguments weren’t enough, what good would her words be?

  She talked to Steve for a while on the phone while she recorded data on her experiments. He didn’t have any advice about Paul. He told her about his animal emergency from that morning. A cat had her claw stuck in the leather collar her owner was trying to teach her to wear. It wasn’t much as emergencies went, but everything he did helped his new veterinary practice to grow in Charlotte.

  After finishing with her plants, Peggy went upstairs to her room to shower and change. Contrary to her personal pledge not to get wet, she was soaked again. She shivered when she got out of the shower and threatened the old furnace with getting a new one. She didn’t want to think what that would cost for a twenty-five-room house. She hoped the trust fund set up by John’s grandparents would take care of it. She’d have to approach John’s uncle to find out. Not a pleasant proposition, since he’d made it clear he thought she should move out when John died.

  The message light was flashing on her computer, sidetracking her from joining Shakespeare in the warm bed. She wrapped her robe a little closer and sat down at the desk. She’d been waiting for a message from a colleague at Berkeley for some help with her strawberries. Maybe this was it.

  She waded through the hundred e-mails she normally received in a day. There were ten phishing letters from banks and credit card companies. Some she did business with. Some she didn’t. They always asked for personal financial information under the guise of helping her in some way.

  She knew better but wasn’t sure if everyone did. She saw a message about phishing for information that could lead to identity theft on a university bulletin board. It was a warning for students, but clearly, anyone using a computer needed to be aware of it.

  Four messages were left when she got done with her junk e-mail. One was from her mother in Charleston, asking if Peggy was coming down for her birthday in June. Another was from the university giving her the final dates for exams. The third was from a student who wondered if Peggy would give him a private tutorial in poisonous plants. The fourth was an invitation to play chess.

  There was no doubting who the invitation was from. His return e-mail address was different, but his handle was the same. She hadn’t heard from Nightflyer in weeks. A tiny thrill ran down her spine even as she debated whether or not she should get involved with him again.

  Not that she knew him personally. She’d never met him except over the cyber chessboard. But he was an exceptional opponent. She’d missed playing against him. She thought she might never hear from him again, not sure if he was only in contact with her because of the Warner murder. He was an ex-CIA agent who’d work
ed with John and was very mysterious about himself, but he’d been right about the incidents involved with the murder.

  He’d given her a link to a new chess site. Peggy clicked on it and found she was already signed up to play. This site was different than most she played on. Two opponents were matched all the time unless one asked to change. Most places she waited to find a partner for a game. It could be anyone, anywhere, from Canada to New Zealand.

  Nightflyer logged in right after her. As always, it was as though he was monitoring her computer. Or maybe he was just set up to receive a message when she logged in. It wasn’t unheard of. She had to stop thinking conspiracy theories about him.

  “Hello, Nightrose!” He greeted her. “Are you ready to play?”

  The board was set up on Peggy’s screen with her as the white player. She made her first move: pawn to e4. “I didn’t expect to hear from you again.”

  “Sorry I had to desert you for a while. Some old war wounds giving me trouble.” He moved to counter her: pawn to c5.

  “I hope you’re feeling better. I’m not going to let you win because you tell me some sob story.” Peggy smiled as she moved her next piece: knight to f3.

  “Excellent move. You’ve been practicing.” He slid his piece across the checkered board: knight to f6. “How have you been? I was sorry to hear about your friend.”

  “I’m fine. I just got back from a conference in Pennsylvania. I won’t ask how you know about Park. I have this picture in my mind of you sitting in front of twenty monitors, reading news reports from all over the world.” She moved again: pawn to e5.

  “That’s too close to the truth!” He took her pawn. “His wife will be charged with his murder.”

  “Are you psychic now?” Knight to c3. She moved too quickly and bit her lip. “Park was killed in an accident. I’m sure you know I witnessed it.”

  “There’s more going on than you realize. I believe Park was killed in the accident you saw, but what caused the accident?” Pawn to d4.

  Peggy considered his move before making her own. “Are you saying Beth is responsible for his accident in some way?”

  “No. I’m saying she’ll be charged in the matter. I don’t think she’s guilty. I’m waiting for a pattern to emerge.” Bishop to g5.

  “Not in the mood for subtlety, are you?” She surveyed her position. “Are you telling me everything you know? Is there something I should look for?”

  “I’ll let you know. Your move. Careful not to make yourself more vulnerable. Speaking of which, be careful, Nightrose. This could be dangerous for you.”

  Peggy was distracted by his conversation and didn’t move at all. “Could you be more precise about the danger? I like riddles as much as anyone, but nice, solid answers would be good. If I’m going to help Beth, I need to understand everything.”

  “That’s all I can tell you until I know more. I’ll get back to you when I do. Do you want to finish the game?”

  His evasive answers made her angry. “I don’t think so. I’d like to know more about how you gather your information.”

  “Maybe some other time. Good night, Nightrose. Better get that dog some training!”

  She sat back in her chair. “How did you know? Are you monitoring my phone calls?”

  “ROTFL! Or I saw your name and Shakespeare’s name on Rue Baker’s Web site. What do I have to do to get you to trust me?”

  “Lunch?” ROTFL: online chat and e-mail talk for rolling on the floor laughing. So he thought it was funny?

  “Maybe. Someday. Oh ye of little faith. I may have to call you Thomas. Good luck with finding out what happened to your friend. I’ll do what I can to help you.”

  “Thanks.” She logged off right after him. Men could be such a problem!

  PEGGY WAS BETWEEN CLASSES the next morning when Mai called her cell phone. “We finished most of the new work on Lamonte’s car this morning. Took it apart. There was nothing wrong that would make it unsafe. Just like the insurance company said.”

  “That’s good news,” Peggy replied in relief. “What about the autopsy?”

  “That’s another story. There was nothing overt that we found in examining him the first time. He definitely died from massive trauma following the accident. But there was something unusual in his tox screen when we dug deeper. They sent the results to Raleigh for more analysis. We couldn’t identify what we found.”

  “What did you find?”

  “Some kind of foreign substance. The ME isn’t sure if it has anything to do with the case. In fact, he’s really leaning toward it being a natural health food kind of thing.”

  Peggy frowned. Park never used a natural health food product in his life. The few times they’d discussed anything of the sort brought snickers and jeers from him. He was definitely a meat-and-potatoes, traditional medicine (if any!) kind of person. “Can you tell me what the substance was without endangering your job?”

  “I don’t see why not, since it probably isn’t anything important anyway. It was bee pollen. The kind people take for instant energy. You know what I mean? Mr. Lamonte had a high concentration of it in his body.”

  “Bee pollen?” Peggy was amazed. Had Park finally succumbed to her way of thinking? Was he trying to combat the fatigue she saw in his face with bee pollen?

  “That’s it,” Mai agreed. “Looks like your friend is off the hook. At least on her husband’s death.”

  “Thanks for letting me know. May I tell Beth?”

  “I think the chances are pretty small that a police detective will tell her.” Mai laughed. “They tend to only want to deliver bad news. Everything else you get in a report. Does Beth have a lawyer yet?”

  Peggy told her about Hunter being involved. “I’m sure they’ll both be glad Park’s death didn’t turn out to be a homicide investigation.”

  “I’m not too sure about Hunter. I think she’s still looking for that big score that will make her famous.”

  It was past time for Peggy to go to her next class. She half agreed with Mai about Hunter, thanked her again for calling, and hurried out of the teachers’ lounge. She wasn’t able to call Beth until the Botany 301 class was over. By that time, Hunter had already gleaned the information from her sources and given her client the good news.

  “I can’t believe it’s over!” Beth gushed. “I thought it would be so much harder.”

  “You were lucky it didn’t go any further,” Peggy assured her. “Anyway, I’m very happy it turned out this way for you and the boys.”

  “Thank you so much for your help. Why don’t you bring Steve over for a celebration dinner tonight? Is seven okay with you?”

  “That’s fine. I’ll check with Steve.”

  “Please come anyway, even if he’s busy. I feel like there wouldn’t be a celebration without you.”

  Peggy called Steve at his office and asked him about dinner.

  “That’s fine,” he agreed. “I should be done checking out this pregnant hamster by then.”

  She laughed as throngs of students passed her, spilling out of the school into the sunshine. “What is there to check out on a pregnant hamster?”

  “The owner thinks the hamster is past her due date,” Steve said then added, “Well maybe not. Here they come now. Call you back later.”

  There was no sign of the snow or ice that had changed everyone’s lives for a few days. Peggy got her bike out of the rack and headed for home. She’d managed to squeeze in an appointment with Rue Baker at Whiskers and Paws right after lunch. Things were looking up.

  She watched a noon report on Channel 14 news that included a small bit about Isabelle. The reporter talked about the mysterious circumstances of her death and her life as a social leader in Charlotte before her husband died.

  Peggy couldn’t believe the police would continue to investigate Isabelle’s death as a possible homicide after Park’s death was declared an accident. The Dragon Queen’s autopsy probably wouldn’t be finished for a few days. Hopefully, it would indicate na
tural causes. The position of her cane, missing dragon’s head, even the bloody letter could go away in that light. If Beth was cleared of any wrongdoing in Park’s death, it wouldn’t make sense for her to attack Isabelle.

  Of course those were all her concepts. The police brain was different. Especially Jonas’s brain!

  Keeley pulled up in Peggy’s drive a little before one. It took both of them to get Shakespeare into the Potting Shed truck. Once he was inside, he kept trying to get on the floor, wagging his tail and barking at them. “I hope this woman you’re taking him to knows what she’s doing,” Keeley said, pushing the dog away with her foot.

  “I hope so, too. Steve thinks Shakespeare’s the same as he’s always been. But I think he’s much worse. I don’t know what happened to him.” Peggy finished speaking just as they were about to go over the same ramp that she’d watched Park’s car plummet from. It seemed to go up much higher than she noticed before. At one point, it looked as though the truck was going to fly off the edge as well.

  Peggy gripped the dash as they went past the spot where the safety wall was demolished. In her mind, she could see the Lincoln flying down over the edge again.

  “Are you okay?” Keeley asked, her dark eyes concerned.

  “I’m fine.” Peggy smiled at her and forced herself to let go of the dash. “I guess I’m just a little nervous after seeing what happened to Park.”

  “I can understand that. My psych professor says the mind plays tricks on us, but usually it’s trying to protect us from what we can’t deal with.”

  “I’m sure he’s right in this case.” Peggy took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. “It’s hard seeing something like that happen to a stranger. To find out it was someone I know has been very difficult.”

  Whiskers and Paws was easy to find once they got to the Ballantyne area. It was a neat little shop with cartoon dogs and cats on the windows facing the street. Rue Baker was as nice as Steve described her. A good thing, since the moment Shakespeare saw her, he ran and jumped on her. His weight pushed her back into a desk and shoved several plastic paper trays clattering to the white tile floor.