Fruit of the Poisoned Tree

Praise for

Pretty Poison

“A fun and informative reading experience . . . With a touch of romance added to this delightful mystery, one can only hope many more Peggy Lee mysteries will be hitting shelves soon!”

—Roundtable Reviews

“A fantastic amateur sleuth mystery . . . will appeal to men and women of all ages . . . a great tale.”

—The Best Reviews

“Peggy is a great character . . . For anyone with even a modicum of interest in gardening, this book is a lot of fun. There are even gardening tips included.”

—The Romance Reader’s Connection

“The perfect book if you’re looking for a great suspense . . . Pretty Poison is the first in the Peggy Lee Garden Mystery series, and I can’t wait for the next!”

—Romance Junkies

“Joyce and Jim Lavene have crafted an outstanding whodunit in Pretty Poison, with plenty of twists and turns that will keep the reader entranced to the final page. Peggy Lee is a likable, believable sleuth and the supporting characters add spice, intrigue, and humor to the story.”

—Fresh Fiction

“Complete with gardening tips, this is a smartly penned, charming cozy, the first book in a new series. The mystery is intricate and well-plotted. Green thumbs and non-gardeners alike will enjoy this book.”

—Romantic Times BOOKclub

1

Tobacco

Botanical: Nicotiana tabacum

Family: N.O. Solanaceae

Native American tribes believed in the healing power of tobacco and smoked it regularly. According to myth, smoking the pipe kept the scattered tribes from becoming enemies. They used the dried leaves for removing poison, a practice still in effect, and to draw the pain from insect stings.

“I CONFESS THAT I didn’t want to come here when I heard what my topic was supposed to be.” Dr. Margaret Lee looked out into the audience gathered in the meeting room. Her brilliant green eyes were sharp beneath her collapsing twist of white-washed red hair. She wore an elegant, blue green three-piece Liz Claiborne suit chosen specially for that moment.

She didn’t like stereotypes and didn’t intend to become one.

“Asking a person from North Carolina to talk about tobacco could be considered an insult these days. Fortunately, I’m not insulted very easily.” The audience chuckled a little and moved restlessly at their tables. The waiters still hadn’t come to clear the luncheon plates, and occasionally silver-ware or china clinked as a speaker strove to make his or her point. Peggy took a deep breath. Tough crowd.

But she was prepared. The letter asking her to speak at a U.S. Botanical Society conference in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania, about thirty miles west of Philadelphia, wasn’t a surprise. She found time to be there most years. Asking her to specifically speak about the evils of tobacco was a surprise.

She was recognized by the society for her work with botanical poisons. She didn’t start out in that field, but circumstances brought it to her doorstep. Tobacco qualified as a poison, even if you didn’t count smoking or chewing it.

Every year, harvesting the plant made a few dozen workers sick from nicotine poison they absorbed from the leaves. Despite the centuries it had been cultivated, people still made mistakes with it. Like every other poisonous plant, it needed understanding and care if the person tending it wanted to stay well.

Asking her to speak about the controversy that had developed between smokers and nonsmokers made her feel like the society expected her to show up in overalls and bare feet to represent the North Carolina tobacco farmer.

But to prove to herself that her fellow attendees were more interested in the botanical view than the political view of Nicotiana, when the society suggested visual material, she refused to bring her projector and laptop. She knew she could create a far more stunning visual impact.

She put on a pair of sturdy garden gloves, dug into the insulated bag she brought onstage with her, and pulled out a healthy specimen of tobacco. After plunking it down on the speaker’s podium, Peggy smiled at the suddenly quiet crowd. “This plant is probably more maligned than any plant has a right to be. We blame it for everything from heart attacks to warts. Everything people have done to themselves. The truth is, people have smoked and chewed it since the fifteen hundreds in Europe, probably thousands more years in North and South America. While it’s been accused of terrible things, modern science has begun to agree with folklore that it may hold the key to valuable healing properties as well.”

Peggy was satisfied with the shocked look on her colleagues’ faces. She stepped down to the audience with the plant, pointing out the wide green leaves and pretty white flowers. While she rattled on about research and isolating the important properties of the plant for the good of humanity, her friend Debby Moore, who worked for Longwood Gardens, shook her head and smiled. When her twenty-minute speech extolling the benefits of the tobacco plant was finished, Peggy returned to their table to enthusiastic applause from the rest of the audience.

“Thank you, Dr. Lee.” Stan Mason, current president of the society, adjusted the microphone as he took back the podium. He dusted some soil from the stand and smiled down at her. “For those of you who aren’t aware of it, our Dr. Lee was spotlighted in Crime Fighter’s Magazine last month for her work with the police on murder cases that involve poison. Very unique for a member of our society. Commendable, Dr. Lee!”

Peggy acknowledged his accolade as she finished putting the long-leafed tobacco plant back into the travel bag. Her normally pink, freckled cheeks were slightly more flushed from the attention, but her stubborn chin refused to let her look away from the interested stares of the group surrounding her. It wasn’t like she was wearing her panty hose on the outside or anything. It always seemed she was just a little different, something her mother pointed out as being her own fault.

“That was interesting,” Debby whispered as another speaker was introduced. “You didn’t tell me you had a plant in that bag. You know we don’t allow plants from outside.”

“It’s not like it can escape. And I didn’t want you to tell anyone.” Peggy zipped the plant into the bag. “Poor thing doesn’t like this cold, I’m afraid. I’m going to have a rough time getting it back in shape when I get home.”

The next speaker was a botanist from Ohio who spoke about using plants to prevent the infiltration of harmful pests in the garden. He began to speak in a droning, nasal voice that lulled the crowd like a bee on a hot summer day. Eyes shut and heads rolled to one side.

Debby leaned close to Peggy. “I don’t think anyone expected you to talk about the good qualities of tobacco.”