Well, at least she didn’t think she cared. Without her father trapping her in his headlight beams, it was hard to say.
“I’ll be fine,” she finally assured Steve, the man presently in her arms. “Don’t worry so much. It will give you frown lines. Go and take care of your patient. I’ll let you know as soon as something changes.”
“I wish I could go with you in the morning. But I have a surgery scheduled for nine. Call me and let me know what happens.”
“I will,” she promised. “Good night. See you tomorrow.”
PEGGY E-MAILED NIGHTFLYER AN invitation from the new chess site. He didn’t respond. She waited half an hour in front of her computer before finally changing clothes and going downstairs to check on her plants. Tonight was the night she was scheduled to release the hero bugs that would save her hapless strawberry plants.
Sometimes it disturbed her sense of empathy with the plants to experiment on them. There they were, going along thinking they lived in a perfect world. Then suddenly, a plague of biblical proportions was released on them. It didn’t seem fair, but such was the nature of experimentation.
The thrips and spider mites she’d released had gnawed hungrily on the strawberries. But their damage was contained, in this case, by limiting the number of bugs. In a normal strawberry patch, the damage could be catastrophic. She looked at a half-eaten strawberry that had fallen off the plant and shook her head.
Making note of everything, she released the lacewings and ladybugs she’d bought from the insect warehouse. Many places had begun growing their own helpful insects to sell to gardeners. The only problem was keeping them around. Once the food supply was gone, the insects typically flew off to find more. That’s where the right environment came in, encouraging them to stay.
Thankfully, her enclosure around the strawberries seemed to be containing what was sure to be an epic battle. Thrips and mites would play havoc with her other plants as well if they escaped. This way their only food source was the strawberry plants.
After recording the progress of the rest of her experiments and watching the frog in the pond, Peggy went back upstairs to check for Nightflyer. There was still no response to her challenge. Maybe his old war injury was bothering him again. She left the chess site and went on to look for poisonings in the daily papers online.
She followed up the story about the man in Dubuque. The poison was still unknown, but the man was alive and listed in fair condition. She took note of his physician’s name and sent an e-mail to the hospital for further information on the case.
Two more unknown poisonings caught her attention. One was in Syracuse, New York, and the other was in Staunton, Ohio. Both were men. One was in serious condition in the ICU. The other was in serious but stable condition. She e-mailed both hospitals for updated information on the cases.
She needed a list of people who stayed at the hotel in Philadelphia and received the gift baskets that contained the honey. The police probably already had that information but weren’t likely to share. With Mai’s anxiety about her job, she couldn’t ask her to check. But if there were other cases of poisoned honey, Hunter could use that in Beth’s defense.
They needed a way to prove the poison was already at work before Park returned home. That would, at least, clear Beth of any wrongdoing where Park was concerned. It wouldn’t help with the charge against her for what happened to Isabelle, but like any other sequential event, one step at a time.
She sat back in her chair; still no word from Nightflyer. She supposed she could only depend on a mysterious stranger for so much. If he really wanted to help, he’d come out of hiding and work with them. He’d explain how he did his research and where he got his sources. A good scientist always shared with colleagues. Steve was right. Nightflyer skulked in the shadows. She would have to find her own answers to help Beth.
She didn’t realize she fell asleep at her computer until her alarm clock went off and Shakespeare started barking in the laundry room. She hated that forlorn sound and wished he was still sleeping in her bed. Maybe it sounded crazy, but she missed him. She yawned and stretched her aching back. She was still willing to give the obedience classes time and hoped they would help him. God help them if the first class was a model for the rest of their time with Rue!
Peggy took Shakespeare out into the cold, foggy morning. Icy mist hung low in the crape myrtle trees, dripping to the ground and on the heads of unwary walkers. Shakespeare seemed better this morning. He walked sedately at her side, looking up from time to time with a strange expression on his face. She brought him back inside and fed him, but he lay down beside the food bowl and for once, refused to gulp down his food.
“What’s wrong?” She scratched behind his ear, feeling guilty. It couldn’t be plainer if he sat up and told her. He wasn’t happy living in the laundry room. He wanted to be with her.
“If you’d stop breaking things and acting like an idiot, you could come back upstairs and to the Potting Shed with me.” She answered him as though his words of complaint were spoken aloud. In response, he laid his head on the worn wood floor and groaned.
She tried everything to get him to eat. He wouldn’t look at the food. Finally, she let him go back upstairs with her. He bounded happily up the sweeping marble staircase, leapt into the bedroom like a gawky gazelle, and broke the lamp on her bedside table. The lamp that had been a wedding gift from John’s mother. She rushed in after him, but it was too late. “I knew it! I shouldn’t have trusted you!”
The phone rang as she began picking up the pieces of the lamp. Shakespeare snuffled her head as she worked. She sat on the floor, shooed him away, and answered the persistent summons.
“Dr. Lee?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“My name is Alan Richards. I’m the head of forensics at the University of Iowa Hospital at Dubuque. I received a message that you were interested in one of my cases. I’m sorry it’s taken a while for me to get back with you. We’ve had a bad flu season this year.”
“Sorry to hear that. Yes, that’s right.” She struggled to get to her feet, pushing Shakespeare out of the way as he lay down on her. “If you could give me a moment to get to my desk, Dr. Richards.”
“Of course. I’ve read some of your work on poisons, Dr. Lee. It’s exciting to speak with you. We don’t get many poisonings. At least not of this type. Once in a while, a child will drink bleach or eat some fertilizer, you know. It happens. But this is something out of the ordinary, isn’t it? How did you find out about the case?”
Peggy made it to her desk and pulled out a yellow legal pad while she hunted for a pen. The only one she could find was half-eaten. “I read about it in the newspaper. Have you been able to identify the toxin Mr. Hollings ingested?”
“As a matter of fact, we just found out this morning that the substance is horse chestnut honey. We determined that the patient ingested a large quantity in a few hours prior to being admitted. I don’t know if this is an accident or something else. I’ve called in the police. Unfortunately, Mr. Hollings died during the night from complications.”
Her heart raced. Maybe she was on to something. She could hear Shakespeare chewing behind her. She glanced back and groaned. He had her chenille bathrobe, the one John gave her for her birthday the year he died. “Put that down!” She got up and shoved the dog away. Too late. There was already a large hole in the back. She stifled the urge to scream and locked the whining dog in the bathroom.
“Dr. Lee? Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine, Dr. Richards. I’m having some problems with my dog. I apologize. Please go on. I’m sorry to hear about Mr. Hollings.”
“I understand. I have a puppy, too. She’s a shepherd.” He laughed. “I’ve had a time with her.”
“I wish my monster was a puppy. He’s a fully grown Great Dane, and he’s decided to behave like a rebellious teenager.”
“I’ve heard training works wonderfully for some cases,” he advised. “Of course, not every dog res
ponds. Sometimes you just have to get rid of them.”
“Well, I hope it won’t come to that.” She took a deep breath and pushed her hair out of her face. “As to the poisoning . . .”
“Yes, of course.” He shuffled his papers. “We think Mr. Hollings ingested the honey at home. The police are checking it out. He ate almost an entire jar of it and lapsed into a coma before his organs failed. He had congenital heart disease, which may have contributed to his death. The CDC might get involved with this. We don’t know yet if this is an isolated case or something more widespread.”
“Do you have a sample of the honey? Do you know where it came from?”
“Let me see.” He checked his notes. “Yes. It came from a small town in California. The label on the jar says Yellow Hills. Are you working on this case, Dr. Lee?”
“Please call me Peggy. I’m working on a similar case.” She told him about Park and the honey at the hotel. “Could you check and see if the Yellow Hills honey came from a hotel in Philadelphia? Do you know what Mr. Hollings’s occupation was?
“He was an attorney,” he responded. “I’ll check with Mr. Hollings’s family and try to find out where the jar of honey came from. If this is true, we could have a major epidemic on our hands. Maybe there’s more poisoned honey being produced. Perhaps the honey growers need to be alerted.”
Peggy made notes. “That may be true, although here in Charlotte, we have a second death linked to the first that has nothing to do with honey. I’m sure the police will want to ask questions and follow up. They should get an idea of who’s involved quickly. I’d appreciate it if you would keep me updated. Do you have my e-mail address?”
“Yes I do, Peggy. Thanks for your input. I’ll let you know what happens. Please keep me advised about your situation as well. And call me Alan.”
“Thanks, Alan. Maybe if we work together, we can find out what’s going on. I’ll let you know if we learn anything else here.” Peggy hung up the phone thoughtfully. She glanced at her notes. She’d have to take them to Al this morning. The police should know the poisoning might be more widespread than just Park. It could get Beth out of trouble as well. At least for Park’s death. The DA could still contend that Beth killed Isabelle just to keep the old lady from making any more accusations.
She walked into the bathroom and found soap and bubble bath spread everywhere over chewed-up towels. “Shakespeare! What have you done?”
BETH WAS PALE AND tightly poised in the crowded courtroom. Her hair was pulled back from her thin face that was devoid of makeup, and her black suit was demure. She looked young and helpless, more like a grieving widow than a killer.
When her name and case number were called, Hunter and David stood up for the defense and pled not guilty on Beth’ s behalf. They gave their summation of their client’s innocence after the damning words from the assistant district attorney. “We ask for the court to release Mrs. Lamonte on her own recognizance. She holds no threat to the community and is an active member of many charities and other groups that benefit the city. She was born in this area, has two children who reside here, and has lifelong ties to Charlotte. She doesn’t pose a flight risk.”
The judge looked at the young ADA in the ill-fitting brown suit who consulted his file and shook his head. “We disagree with counsel for the defense, Your Honor. Both of these acts were heinous and perpetrated solely and coldly for profit. We ask for no bail.”
“Your Honor,” Hunter argued. “The defendant is the mother of two small children. She isn’t going anywhere and isn’t guilty of these crimes.”
“Save the arguments for court, Counsel,” the judge advised. “Bail is set at five hundred thousand dollars.” She banged the gavel and moved on to the next case.
“Your Honor, Gary Rusch for the defense.” The senior attorney glided to the front of the courtroom. He wore his conservative gray suit and white shirt like a fashion model. Heads turned at his entrance. “If I may? Mr. Lamonte’s former associates at Lamonte, Rusch and Peterson would like to stand bail for Mrs. Lamonte as a testimony to our belief in her innocence.”
“That’s fine, Mr. Rusch. I’m sure you know how it’s done. Next case.” The judge purposefully turned away.
Peggy was surprised and pleased by the move. She watched from the back of the courtroom as Beth hugged her savior. There was that disturbing intimacy again between them that bothered Peggy. It seemed to be one-sided. Beth didn’t cling to Gary, but he bent his head close to hers and brushed his hand across her cheek. Was there something else Beth hadn’t told her?
Beth was led away by a guard and wasn’t released until about an hour later. Peggy waited inside the courthouse for her. The press was everywhere outside, snapping pictures and demanding answers from the district attorney. Beth’s father was waiting with a car around the side, hoping to get his daughter away from their prying eyes.
Peggy led the way when she saw Beth walk out of the holding area. “Let’s duck out the side entrance.”
Beth was still in shock. “This is unbelievable, Peggy. Not only have I been charged with Park’s death but Isabelle’s, too. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I can go through this.”
“You let us worry about that,” Gary told her, joining them with Hunter and David at his side. “We’ll take care of it. David assures me this kind of incompetence won’t continue.”
“Incompetence?” Beth frowned. “I thought they were fine.”
“They should have been able to get you out on your own recognizance. But David will try harder next time, right son?”
“Yes! I’m sorry I was incompetent, Mrs. Lamonte.”
Peggy thought Rusch Senior was a little hard on his son but didn’t say so.
Gary glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry to have to leave you right away, but I have to get back to work. I’ll talk to you later. Just hang in there.”
“Thank you again, Gary.” Beth hugged him again. “I don’t know what I’d do without the all of you.”
Peggy nudged Hunter, whose blue eyes were focused on David. “Is there anything we should know, Hunter? Hunter!”
The young attorney shrugged, but her face was pink. “Not really. Davey and I grew up in Chatham County together before his parents moved to Charlotte. We dated for a while when we met again later in law school. I haven’t seen him in a few years.”
Peggy glanced at Beth, who smiled and looked away. “I mean about the case, sweetie!”
“Oh!” Hunter’s face got really red. “Oh, no. Not really. Not right now anyway. I’ll look over the evidence the DA has in the case.”
“We’ll look over the evidence,” David reminded her with a gentle smile on his face.
Hunter pressed her cheek to his. “Yes. Then we’ll interview witnesses and take statements. We’re thinking about starting a new practice of our own!”
Peggy smiled. “I’m happy for you. That was some pretty fast work.”
“Yeah.” She laughed. “It was. One minute, everything was normal. The next minute, I was on the floor looking up. I never saw it coming. But wow! I like being hit by trains.”
David put his arm around her shoulder. “Rusch and Ollson.”
“Ollson and Rusch,” Hunter corrected.
Beth walked between Peggy, Hunter, and David as they ushered her quickly out to her father’s Buick. “I guess I’ll do whatever the two of you decide is best. I have faith in you. Maybe you can find some way to get me out of this mess.”
“Maybe,” Peggy half agreed. “But best not to depend on any one strategy or person. I’m sorry I got you into this, but I’m working on a theory to get you out.” She opened the car door for her. “I should be done at the shop by six. We’ll meet at your house to strategize, Beth. Hunter, can you and David be there, too?”
Hunter’s eyes and brain were still focused on the man beside her. When she realized Peggy was talking to her, she started and smiled. “Sorry. What did you say?”
Peggy repeated her question, while
Beth laughed. “Of course.” Hunter put her hand on Beth’s arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll work this out.”
Waving to Hunter, David, and Beth, Peggy got her bike and started riding toward the university. The morning was still cold and damp. By the time she reached Queens, she was cold and damp, too.
She grabbed a cup of coffee as she dialed Al’s number on her cell phone. He was out, but she left him a voice mail asking him to call her as soon as he could. She wished there was time to do more research into the poisoned honey, but her class was just about to start. It would have to wait until lunch.
She was halfway through a lecture on hybridization when her friend, Darmus Appleby, stopped by. He’d promised to come in at some point and talk to her students about composting.
Darmus was also the organizer of the Charlotte community garden, his favorite subject. He nearly danced when he was talking about it. Composting eventually turned into an appeal to help with the garden project, the first of its kind in uptown Charlotte. But then everything Darmus did turned into an appeal to help with the community garden!
The students were interested and enthusiastic about the garden. They signed up to help with it after class. Darmus gave out literature from the US Composting Council as well as flyers for the community garden. His dark eyes glittered in his lined black face as he hugged Peggy when all the students were gone. He was short, barely reaching five feet. His hands and feet were crippled with arthritis, but his appreciation for the miracle of life glowed about him like a halo.
“That went very well.” Peggy smiled as she righted herself after his bear hug. “I think you got some volunteers.”
“The Lord provides! You and I know that better than most people. We are so blessed!”
“You’re right, sir! Can I buy you lunch?”
“If you can find me some decent veggies,” Darmus agreed, “I’d be happy to join you. I’m so glad you agreed to help me with the garden. I’m going to be interviewed on Charlotte Talks later this week. Think you could be there?”
Fruit of the Poisoned Tree Page 20
