Fruit of the Poisoned Tree

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 worked 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.”