Fruit of the Poisoned Tree

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?”

“I’d be glad to, although you know more than I do about anything to do with gardening. I can be there for moral support anyway.”

“Great! Thank you, Peggy. Now where’s that lunch?”

LUNCH WAS OVER QUICKLY with two garden lovers talking about their favorite subject. Darmus was a strict vegan who ate only vegetables, fruit, and rice. He always managed to tweak Peggy’s conscience about buying organics and not eating foods grown in areas served by slave labor or under political sanctions.

She adored him, but even at sixty-seven, he was difficult to keep up with. Born in a desperately poor farming community in South Carolina, he’d still managed to go to school and support fourteen brothers and sisters while he was growing up. He’d become politically active in Charlotte while teaching at UNCC. In the course of that time, he’d traveled around the world as a UN ambassador to hungry nations and been awarded medals by the president of the United States.

“Here he is!” Darmus hailed someone from behind her left shoulder. “Peggy, I want you to meet my friend and coconspirator, Fletcher Davis. I finally convinced him to come to Charlotte.”

Peggy turned around with a smile that quickly vanished from her face. “You!” she accused the young man who stood behind her.

“The lady from the rally who saved my butt,” Fletcher acknowledged her, still wearing raggedy jeans and T- shirt with a threadbare jacket that looked the same as the day she’d seen him at the hotel in Philadelphia. “How was jail?”

“Someplace I don’t want to go again, thanks.” Peggy’s brain raced. What are the odds he’d be here with Darmus?

“That’s wonderful! I can’t believe you’ve already met!” Darmus laughed. “Fletcher is the head of a huge coalition for conservation, Peggy. It’s called Tomorrow’s Children. He’s teaching a few classes right here at Queens as well. But I suppose you already know that, eh?”

“Not really.” Peggy tried to stop frowning at Fletcher. “What brings you to Charlotte, Fletcher? Another rally?”

“No. I’m here to help Darmus with fund-raising for his garden. But we put a serious crimp in those legal eagles’ plans in Philly, didn’t we? They won’t recover for a while.”

“Someone poisoned one of those legal eagles,” Peggy told him, wanting to see his reaction. “He died.”

Fletcher’s expression didn’t change. He shrugged, his longish brown hair raking his shoulders. “Better him than the bay, right? What’s one man compared to a generation losing what’s important? Clean air and water. We all need that to survive.”

PEGGY TRIED CALLING AL again after meeting Fletcher Davis. It seemed very convenient to her that he happened to be at the hotel in Philadelphia and in Charlotte. Al didn’t answer, so reluctantly, she went about her day.

Could Fletcher be the one who gave Park the poisoned honey? He was outside his hotel room in Philadelphia and could have been running away from what he did when she got arrested trying to save him from the police. He didn’t seem upset by the idea that Park was dead. Was he fanatical enough to kill Park over the estuary?

If so, how would that tie in with Isabelle’s death? Maybe the two events weren’t connected, as the police believed.

She took Shakespeare out for his walk, relieved to find the laundry room intact. He still refused to eat, even when she offered him a treat. Feeling guilty, she let him stay in the kitchen with her while she checked her e-mail on her laptop. She’d heard back from the other two physicians treating the poison victims. Neither one of them