Fruit of the Poisoned Tree

landfill. We need your help to find it. I’m sure that would bring you deep personal satisfaction, wouldn’t it?”

The man scratched his stubbled chin. “Probably not as much as fifty dollars.”

Peggy’s smile changed as she leaned closer and tried another tactic. “There will be television cameras up here from every news network in North Carolina. You’ll be famous after they ask you questions about what happened.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” The man’s face brightened. “People say I sing like Roy Orbison. Look like him, too. Maybe I could get an audition for American Idol! Simon would love me! What do you need?”

He told them where they’d find the fresh garbage from the Myers Park area. It covered an entire hillside. There was no other way to get there but to tramp through the muck to the spot. Avoiding potentially dangerous objects, the group walked out through the sea of trash while the landfill manager took out his electric razor to shave before the TV cameras got there.

“Peggy,” Hunter began, “even if all of the trash from Myers Park is on this hill, how will we ever find a single jar of honey in it? It’s impossible!

“There were a good many cake boxes, you know? Those big, square white boxes you get from Harris Teeter. I thought we could look for a group of those, and that would be Beth’s trash.”

“Oh. I see. Easy.” Hunter rolled her eyes and mumbled, “We’re never going to find this.”

Peggy squeezed her arm. “Never is a very long time to spend in a garbage dump. Let’s think positively, and maybe we’ll be done by morning. That way, it will be so much easier to get the smell out of our hair. Maybe only one or two shampoos.”

Hunter groaned as they reached the designated area. “Let’s get this over with then. Too much shampooing makes my hair dry and frizzy.”

Sam cordoned off individual sections for each person to search through. The trash was knee high on the surface. Fortunately, they didn’t have to dig below that level to look for the jar. The large, intense spotlights made the night brighter than day. They illuminated every aluminum pie pan, disposable diaper, and open can in the mix.

Steve passed out surgical gloves and masks to each person, cautioning them not to touch their faces after rummaging through the trash. “These are only good if you don’t get the bacteria near your nose or mouth. If the glove breaks open, I have some others. If you get cut, I hope your tetanus vaccinations are up to date.”

One of Sam’s friends hooted. “What about hepatitis, man? Not to mention a hundred other diseases we could get out here. This place is a germ haven. Don’t you love it?”

Steve ignored him as he started looking through his section of trash. He watched Peggy, who was conveniently searching beside him. “He’s crazy, but he’s right, you know.”

“You mean about the possibility of disease?” She kept searching without looking up at him. “There’s probably more of a possibility for disease when you push a shopping cart at the supermarket.”

“Has anyone ever mentioned the degree of determination that drives you?” He smiled as she slowly looked up and focused on him. “You’re very persistent.”

“If you mean I don’t let a few bugs and viruses get in my way, you’re right. I’m not sure we can find the honey jar, but at least we can try.”

“Well then, have you thought what this might mean to an otherwise closed investigation?” Hunter asked from Peggy’s left side. “Bringing anything else into the equation could mean more trouble for Beth from both investigations.”

“The truth about what happened to Park is more important than Beth staying out of trouble,” Peggy told her. “I know she’ll feel that way, too.”

“I think I found something.” Selena held up a small jar from the other side of the hill. “It’s definitely a honey jar.” She slapped at a few ants who were keeping warm in the trash and didn’t want to let go of their prize. “Can we go home now?”

“Does it have a blue label?” Peggy asked.

“No.” Selena looked at the jar again, her hopeful smile fading. “It’s white. Does it have to be a blue label?”

“The jar we’re looking for has a blue label.” Peggy started sorting through her trash again. “Sorry, sweetie. I forgot to tell you.”

“That’s okay.” Selena tossed the jar over her shoulder. “I’ll look for one with a blue label until I fall down and die of disease from being out here in this cesspool of human waste.”

“Wow! Nice words,” the soccer player beside her exclaimed. “Will you marry me and write my next thesis?”

They continued searching past midnight as garbage trucks continued to come in and dump their loads around them. It was cold but thankfully, not raining. The orange sky looked far off behind the glaring lights, bright stars invisible. The stench was overpowering. From time to time, someone groaned as they stepped into a partial cheesecake or a half-eaten chicken carcass.

Peggy’s back was beginning to ache and her fingers were numb, but she kept digging. Doubt was beginning to seep in with the cold. Hunter’s words nagged at her.

Even if they could find the jar and she could prove her theory about what happened to Park, who would benefit from it? It could reopen the investigation into her friend’s death. She was worried about Beth. A deeper inquiry would bring out some unpleasant facts about the couple that had managed to stay hidden so far. If someone had hurt Park, she didn’t want him or her to get away. Yet at what price? Foxx and Reddman stood to lose both their parents if Beth went to jail.

It was the scientist in her that kept her from calling off the whole thing. Discovering the truth and understanding what made something happen drove her. She could never put away a jigsaw or crossword puzzle until the whole thing was finished. She couldn’t stop wondering until she knew what happened to Park either. She hoped he’d want it that way, too. She prayed they could prove Beth wasn’t involved in any way.

Sam yelled from the top of the hill. Weary workers stood up and stretched as he ran down toward them. “I think I found it, Peggy! You said a blue label, right?”

She looked at the jar Sam held up in the light. It was the jar from the welcome basket given to Park by the hotel in Philadelphia. The label was a little messed up with some trash on it, but the jar was intact with the cap on tight. Peggy held it up to the light. The honey was at the same level she saw it on Beth’s kitchen cabinet. “You’re right, Sam. Good work! We can all go home now.”

Steve and Hunter stood beside her and looked at the dark gold, syrupy fluid. The hot, white lights made it seem brighter than it was, showing the small particles in the otherwise clear substance.

“I hope it’s worth it,” Hunter said, transfixed by it.

“I hope so, too.” Peggy put the bottle into a resealable plastic bag for protection. “We should know in a few hours. I have samples of honey and pollen in my collection. If I’m right, this could be what killed Park.”

“No matter what, didn’t the car accident still kill him?” Steve asked.

“Not if there were contributing factors,” Hunter explained. “I mean, technically, the crash still killed him. But if something made him crash, something someone did to him, it’s a whole other ball game.”

Peggy thanked everyone for coming and offered to take them all out for breakfast. No one had the heart to eat anything with the way they smelled. All of them agreed to a rain check on the food.

“Where are the TV cameras?” The landfill manager glanced around the empty drive as everyone was leaving and he was tucking in his clean shirt. “You promised me TV cameras.”

“They’ll be here.” Peggy walked by him quickly. “You’ll get your ten seconds of fame. Thanks for your help.”

He turned away and made a grunting sound. She wasn’t sure if he was agreeing or blowing her off. Either way, if she was right, there would be television cameras. If she was wrong, she supposed she owed the man fifty dollars.

Steve threw sheets over the car seats in the Vue. “I’m prepared this time. I’ve learned to expect the unexpected when I’m with you.”

“You’re a wise man.” She sighed heavily as she got in the car with the precious jar they’d all given up a