Fruit of the Poisoned Tree

“Maybe she wasn’t as easy to get to as Park with that basket at the hotel.” Hunter stopped pacing. “Let’s say it was this man from the environmental group who wanted to kill Park because of the estuary issue. If he’s here in Charlotte, he had opportunity to kill Isabelle, too.”

“But why would he?” Peggy queried. “She didn’t have anything to do with the law firm representing the oil company.”

“What about Alice then?” Hunter changed suspects. “She obviously didn’t like the old lady.”

“But why would she kill Park?” Beth wondered with a cry in her voice. “He was always generous with her.”

Hunter shrugged, her forehead furrowed. “To torture Isabelle before she killed her?”

Peggy could see from the look on Beth’s face that this conversation was torturing her. Besides, they were just going around in circles. There was some piece missing in the puzzle. Something they weren’t taking into consideration. “It’s late.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to go. I can only imagine what trouble Shakespeare has managed to get into. We’ll have to keep thinking about this and try to come up with some other answers that make sense. It would be nice if we could find the dragon’s head. That might give us Isabelle’s killer.”

Beth rose lightly to her feet. “I appreciate you coming anyway. Steve, too. I’ll try to think of anything that might relate to this. Right now, my brain is on overload. I just need to sleep for a while.”

The doorbell rang as Peggy was going to get Steve out of the kitchen. She tried to get him to sit with them, but he said he felt the three women needed the time together alone. “Ready to go?” she asked as Beth answered the door.

Steve shut off the small TV on the counter. “Yes! Thank God you came for me. I hate football.”

She laughed. “I’m sorry. Beth said she was having some trouble with her cable. She can only get ESPN. Thank you for waiting for me anyway.”

“Did you get everything sorted out?” he asked as they walked out of the kitchen.

“No,” she answered briefly before they reached the others. “I wish we’d been able to come up with any answers for what’s happened. We just can’t figure it out. And everything points to Beth.”

David was standing in the hall with Beth and Hunter. He had his arm draped casually around Hunter’s shoulders . . . after almost knocking over the fern by the door. “We’re getting David caught up with what we discussed tonight,” Beth told her.

“I wish I could’ve been here, but I’m doing extra work until we can get in a new person at the firm.” He glanced up at Beth and frowned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Beth put her hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. I know life goes on. I can’t hide from that.”

Hunter slipped her hand through David’s arm. “I suppose we should get going. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Peggy. If you come up with anything else, let me know.”

Peggy smiled. “I will.” It was good to see Hunter with someone in her life so she didn’t have to depend on Sam for companionship. “Good night, Beth. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. If you need me for anything, call.”

“That goes for us, too,” David told her.

“We’ll be prepping for the trial,” Hunter said. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Beth. We have a lot to do.”

Steve and Peggy walked out of the house behind Hunter and David. Steve nodded at the couple, his voice a murmur near Peggy’s ear. “That happened pretty quickly, didn’t it?”

She glanced at him and smiled. “Some people said that about us, you know. I guess all relationships don’t have to take years to develop.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He opened the door to the Vue for her. “What’s next with Beth?”

She explained everything they talked about in the tiny sitting room. Maybe he’d be able to make some sense of it. “We have to find out who killed Isabelle. Whoever it was wanted to throw suspicion on Beth. If we find that person, I think we’ve found the person responsible for Park’s death as well.”

“You don’t think the poisoned honey was accidental? How could people control what plants their bees get honey from anyway?”

“Beekeepers are more careful than that,” she told him. “No good beekeeper would allow this to happen. They know how far their bees fly, and they’re careful about what’s allowed to grow in that area.”

“But why would someone want to kill Park and his mother?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t been able to think of a single reason. I considered his ex-wife. But even if she hated Park enough to kill him, what reason would she have to kill Isabelle? The two of them got along like mud and flies. She was Isabelle’s choice for Park.”

“What about money as a motive?” he suggested. “Will anyone strike it rich from this besides Beth?”

“I suppose we can assume Isabelle didn’t have time to change her will after Park’s death. That probably means that everything she had went to Park.”

“Which means it goes to Beth.”

She nodded. “That’s right.”

“Okay. What about the housekeeper?” Steve questioned. “She had the opportunity to poison Park and kill the mother.”

“But what would she gain?”

“Maybe just satisfaction.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. But she makes more sense as a suspect than your environmental leader from Philadelphia. I can see him killing Park. But he probably didn’t even know his mother.”

“I don’t know. My brain feels like it’s full of mush.” Peggy told him about the relationship she noticed between Gary Rusch and Beth.

“Do you think it relates to what happened?” he queried. “Have you said anything to her about it?”

“Not yet,” she confessed. “Some things even I’m reluctant to bring up.”

“You mean you’d rather not know,” he guessed. “I don’t blame you.”

Peggy’s cell phone rang. It was Paul. “How far are you from the house?” he asked.

“Only a few minutes. Why?” She glanced at Steve as he turned the Vue from Providence Road to Queens Road.

“They called me from burglary about twenty minutes ago,” Paul told her. “Someone broke into the house.”

“We’ll be right there.” Peggy’s heart raced as she closed her cell phone. “Someone broke into my house.”

“Was anything taken? Did they catch who did it?” Steve drove a little faster down the empty street.

“I don’t know yet. Paul’s there.” She looked out at the houses that lined the street. “I should’ve set the alarm.” She thought about Shakespeare, locked in the laundry room, and sat forward. “Can we go any faster?”

They parked on the road. There was no way to get in the drive through the bevy of police and crime scene vehicles. It looked as though every light was on in the house. Peggy pushed open the car door and ran up through the wet grass.

Her neighbor, Clarice, and her apricot poodle, Poopsie, met her halfway to the house. “Oh Peggy! Imagine something like this happening here. In this neighborhood. What’s the world coming to? I’m so sorry. I hope all of your valuables were insured.”

Peggy brushed by her without a word, focused on the house. Steve smiled at the woman whose hair matched the color of her poodle and patted Poopsie’s head as he ran after Peggy. Clarice continued to fret as she followed the two of them.

“Mom!” Paul waited for her at the front door. “I know this looks bad, but it could’ve been worse. These home invasions can be dangerous, too. Thank God you weren’t here.”

“What about Shakespeare?” Peggy asked immediately as she continued through the house toward the kitchen. She ignored his attempts to soften the blow for her, focused on her concern for the dog. “Have you seen him?”

“No.” Paul shook his head. “I heard him when we first got here. He’s here somewhere. Hello, Steve.”

“Hi, Paul.” Steve kept up with Peggy’s frantic pace.

“I thought she’d be worried about the antiques or her jewelry.” Paul shrugged. “Go figure.”

“Your mother’s not an ordinary person,” Steve explained with a grin.