called Reggie. “They’re for Bonnie and Julian.” Miles did so and deposited them at the table. Bonnie and Julian thanked Reggie for making the drinks. Joe was introduced to Julian, and his reaction was studied by most everyone else. From the way Joe’s face became almost studiously blank, it was clear (to me, anyway) that Joe held the same low opinion of Julian that most everyone else did.
However, if Bonnie and Julian picked up on Joe’s negative opinion, they hid it well. They chatted in contented oblivion and sipped their drinks. Within a few minutes, however, Bonnie’s bubbly mood changed. “Julian, do you think you could put that thing out?” she snapped, indicating his cigarette. “It’s very bothersome.”
Julian appeared startled at her annoyed tone but graciously put out the offending embers. “But of course, my dear. I am terribly sorry,” he said as he ground down the tip.
Bonnie pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I’m sorry, Julian. It’s just that I have a sudden headache. I think this sun is getting to me.” She squinted sullenly at the offending orb in the sky.
Julian was quick to react. “Would you like me to get you some aspirin?”
Bonnie shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine, but thank you.”
Julian glanced at the rest of us, his face pulled down in an expression that indicated his grave concern. I’m sorry to say he did not find a similar sentiment on ours. Bonnie was no stranger to issuing complaints. “My dear, why don’t you trade places with me? I am in the shade, while you are in the sun. I have been very thoughtless. Come, I insist,” he said, getting to his feet. He moved behind her chair. “Let me help you.”
Bonnie allowed herself to be gently moved to the shady chair. Julian took his new seat and peered anxiously at her. “Better?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
But it wasn’t. Minutes later, Bonnie began to complain that her stomach hurt. “You must be hungry.” Julian said. “Perhaps the steaks are almost ready?”
“Just another minute,” Peter called from his post at the grill.
“Perhaps you should go inside and rest until the steaks are ready,” suggested Julian. “I will bring one in to you once they are done.”
“No,” replied Bonnie, pulling her lips into an obstinate line. “I’m fine.” However, no sooner had she said this than she let out a low groan and clutched at her stomach. “This is silly,” said Julian. “I insist that you go inside and rest.”
Bonnie stubbornly rejected this idea, adamantly shaking her head in refusal. “This day is for Marty,” she said. “I can’t forget that. In fact, why don’t we have a toast? I propose a toast to Marty’s memory.” She raised the glass in front of her. When the rest of us had done likewise with ours, she stretched out her arm a bit straighter. Then in a voice low from either emotion or stomach cramps, she said, “To Martin Reynolds—a man like no other!”
As toasts go, it wasn’t a particularly memorable line. No, what made it memorable was the fact that seconds after she said it, Bonnie collapsed to the ground, her glass shattering into thousands of pieces beside her.
Chapter 24
Well! Evil to some is always good to others.
In all the confusion, it’s hard to remember exactly what happened next. There were screams, of course, and people running and one small dog barking incessantly. Someone called 911. I think it was Joe. Ann ran over to Bonnie and tried to revive her. She wasn’t dead, but she sure as hell wasn’t very responsive either. Her skin was gray beneath her tan, and her face was slack.
Finally the paramedics came bursting onto the patio and we all stood back and let them do their job. They were able to get a pulse on her and rapidly loaded her onto a gurney and out to the waiting ambulance. Julian tried to go with Bonnie but was firmly, albeit politely, denied access. Peter, Aunt Winnie, and I drove to the hospital in my car. Joe drove Ann. Everyone else formed various car pools as well. Julian also went to the hospital, but I think he went by cab.
We arrived at the hospital and quickly made our way to the reception desk. A large woman with an expression that suggested a genetic link with the subfamily Bovinae listened apathetically to our story and then told us to take seats in the waiting room. We were duly informed that someone would be with us “shortly.” Someone wasn’t. Miles joined us, as did Reggie and Frances. Kit also came. I was surprised at first but then realized Kit would sooner cut off her left foot than miss out on any potential drama. Scott had taken the twins home, and Donny apparently had better things to do than hang out at a hospital. Laura drove Nana back to her house in St. Michaels and my mother returned to her house.
As the ten of us sat huddled together in the drab waiting room, ignorant of Bonnie’s condition, we offered various explanations of what had happened. Heart attack seemed the most popular guess, with stroke being a close second. It wasn’t until I saw the grim-faced doctor coming our way accompanied by a policeman that I began to suspect the truth.
“Hello,” the doctor said stiffly when he got to us, “I’m Dr. Moser. I’m taking care of Mrs. Reynolds.” Dr. Moser was about six two with wire-rimmed glasses and a scattering of gray hair. He studied our little group with a guarded expression. Gesturing to the officer next to him, he added, “This is Officer Daschle.” Officer Daschle was about five ten, with a stocky build and a blond crew cut. Unlike Dr. Moser, Officer Daschle watched us with an expression that was much easier to interpret. Angry suspicion radiated from his dark brown eyes.
“How is she?” asked Ann. “How’s Bonnie?”
Officer Daschle turned to Ann. “May I ask who
Joe’s jaw tightened at Officer Daschle’s tone with Ann. Stepping forward he said, “This is Ann Reynolds. She’s Mrs. Reynolds’s stepdaughter.”
Officer Daschle cast a suspicious eye at Joe. “And who are you?”
“Detective Joe Muldoon. I’m a … friend of Miss Reynolds.”
Officer Daschle nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Detective. I think I’ll need to talk with you later.” To Ann he said, “Well, Miss Reynolds, I’m sorry to say but your stepmother is in serious condition.”
“Was it a heart attack?” Reggie asked Dr. Moser.
Dr. Moser paused ominously before answering. “No, I’m afraid it wasn’t a heart attack.”
“A stroke, then?” Kit asked confidently. Earlier Kit had predicted that Bonnie had had a stroke.
Dr. Moser shook his head. “No. She was poisoned.”
“Poisoned!” cried several voices. Joe’s face hardened and he glanced suspiciously at Julian.
“Do you mean food poisoning?” asked Kit. “Are the rest of us in any danger? I’m pregnant—should I call my OB-GYN?” She clutched her belly protectively.
“It was not food poisoning,” said Dr. Moser. “We believe it was
“You mean the flower?” asked Ann, perplexed.
“Yes. It is very common and very toxic. If ingested it generally leads to heart failure.”
“Is Bonnie going to be okay?” asked Aunt Winnie.
“I sincerely hope so,” Dr. Moser replied. “She’s in excellent physical condition for a woman her age; however, it’s too soon to tell. We’ve had to pump her stomach and she’s been given cardiac depressants to control her cardiac rhythm. Sometimes lily of the valley is mistaken for garlic. Do you by chance have a home garden?”
Ann shook her head. “No. Nothing at all like that.”
“May I ask what you were eating and drinking?”
“We all had some cheese and crackers,” said Ann. For some reason, everyone turned to look at me.
“It couldn’t have been that,” said Dr. Moser with a shake of his head. To my relief everyone stopped looking at me.
“We had just put the steaks on the grill,” Ann continued. “Bonnie was drinking a martini—”
Dr. Moser interrupted. “A martini? Who made the drink?”
No one answered right away, but we all looked at Reggie. “I did,” she finally answered. “Why?”
