Fruit of the Poisoned Tree

“You noticed that, huh? I thought I’d learned to live with it. But she always manages to surprise me.”

Peggy rushed by them and finally reached the kitchen, skirting the small groups of crime scene people rummaging through her house. She opened the laundry room door, and Shakespeare jumped down from the top of the dryer. Dropping to her knees, she threw her arms around his broad neck. “Thank goodness you’re all right.” She looked around the small room. He’d knocked over detergent and fabric softener, almost made his way through the wall near the door in his quest to get at the person who broke into the house. “I wish you could talk. You probably know who did this, don’t you?”

The dog wagged his tail and licked her face, almost twisting his body around her as she stroked his head and back. She apologized to him for leaving him in the laundry room, even though it may have saved his life.

Peggy got to her feet. “I guess you might as well come out. There’s not much that hasn’t been damaged out here.”

“If you could get us the insurance list you keep in case of fire,” Paul said awkwardly. “I’ve got Crime Scene looking for whatever they can find that might help. There may be some fingerprints or some other DNA evidence that was left behind. I don’t think professionals were responsible for this. You didn’t set the alarm, did you?”

“No.” Peggy was embarrassed by her lack of responsibility. It wasn’t that she forgot to set the alarm. It was easier not to set it. No one bothered houses on Queens Road. She couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had a break-in. “Have you noticed anything specific being gone?”

“Just a few things.” Paul shrugged. “And I’m not sure if anything was taken. There must’ve been more than one of them. The place is a mess.”

“Have you gone in the basement?”

“Yeah.” He looked away. “You aren’t going to like it.”

Steve walked with her into the basement, Shakespeare staying a sedate step behind them. Paul excused himself, not wanting to see the look on his mother’s face when she realized how much of her work was ruined.

The pond was emptied. Plants and dirt were scattered everywhere. The container that was keeping the thrips and spider mites in the area with the strawberries was tossed aside. Even the plants themselves were torn up and tossed on the floor. The red berries were crushed. The French doors going to the backyard were smashed and left open to the cold night outside.

Peggy picked up a few water plants and put them back in the violated pond. The frog croaked at her from the edge. She smiled at him as she shivered. “At least you were smart enough not to run outside. I’ll have to get something up over those doors until they can be repaired.”

“I’ve got some tarps at my house. We could use those,” Steve volunteered.

“That would be great.” She tried to inflect some excitement into her voice. She really appreciated his help. It was just overwhelming to see everything so devastated. It looked more like a tornado hit there rather than a break-in.

Steve hugged her. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you clean up. There isn’t anything here that can’t be replaced. I know you have a lot of work in this, but Paul is right. At least you weren’t here. At least you’re all right. Shakespeare, too.”

Peggy sat down in the basement with her ruined experiments. She could hear Steve talking to someone on the stairs as he left to get the tarps. Shakespeare curled up on her feet, trying to get as close as possible.

At least you weren’t here. The phrase kept echoing through her mind. It bothered her. Not that it was unusual for her to be gone at night. Was someone watching the house and learning her habits? She thought about Nightflyer but immediately took him off of her list. He was far too secretive to leave a mess behind. If he did break in, she felt sure she’d never know.

“Hi, Peggy.” Mai joined her, glancing around the basement. “I came as soon as I heard. I’m so sorry about this.”

“Thank you.” Peggy’s lips were tight with the effort it took not to cry. Everyone was right. She wasn’t hurt. Shakespeare wasn’t hurt. Everything else could be redone and replaced. “I haven’t looked upstairs yet. Is it like this?”

Mai nodded. “I’m afraid so. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a mess like this at a break-in before. It’s like it was trashed by a horde of barbarians. I don’t know how they could see what they wanted to take. It had to be kids.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Peggy got up from her chair. There was no point feeling sorry for herself. She had to move on, move through this. “I guess I should check out the important stuff.”

“I’ll walk around with you, if you like. I’m not working. Paul called me, and I wanted to be here.”

Peggy squeezed Mai’s hand. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

BY THE TIME PEGGY and Mai had conducted a thorough tour of the house, Al and Jonas were there. Al put his arm around her. “Sorry this happened to you, Peggy. Do you have a list of what’s missing?”

“No.” Peggy looked at him in amazement. “There’s nothing missing. At least nothing I can think of. Every room was rummaged through, but my jewelry, John’s coin collection, antiques. Nothing’s missing.”

Al exchanged glances with Jonas. “Probably just kids. Was the door forced open?”

Mai nodded. “The French doors in the basement were knocked open.”

“It’s like someone was searching for something.” Peggy looked around herself in the trashed-out television room. “Why else would someone do this but not take anything? Even kids would’ve taken something or spray painted graffiti. Something.”

“Don’t worry, Peggy.” Jonas smiled at her. “I’m sure the burglary unit will be able to give you some answers. We just wanted to check in on you after we heard the call. Sorry about your place. Do you need a hand getting things straightened up?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “But I know it’s almost impossible for you to find suspects on something like this.”

Al cleared his throat noisily. “That doesn’t mean you should go out and look for them.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” She laughed. “I think I’ll have my hands full here. Thanks for stopping by.”

Al lingered behind a moment while Jonas walked outside. “About the information you gave me regarding the honey.”

Peggy’s eyebrows lifted. “Yes?”

“There may be something to it. I checked out Mr. Hollings with the Dubuque Police Department. He was a lawyer working on the same case as Mr. Lamonte. He got the same gift basket at the same hotel. We’re trying to contact people at the hotel and find out where the baskets came from.”

“That’s great, Al! Thanks for telling me. And Fletcher Davis?”

“I don’t know. We can’t find the boy, for one thing. He’s impassioned, that’s for sure. He’s been arrested a dozen times for stunts he pulled. Nothing violent.”

“He’s right here in Charlotte,” Peggy informed him. “He’s staying at UNCC with Darmus Appleby.”

“And you think he seems like a killer?”

Peggy repeated what Fletcher said when she told him about Park’s death. “He was pretty cold about it.”

Al grunted. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Does that mean Beth isn’t on the suspect list anymore? Are you dropping the charges against her?”

“Not yet.” He eyed a green velvet drape that was about to fall on the floor. “Even if we do, that won’t change my mind about her killing the old lady. Even if she didn’t have a hand in what happened to her husband, it’s clear she was involved in Isabelle’s death.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous! Whoever did it wanted Beth to be blamed for Isabelle’s death.”

“Well, like you said,” Al’s gaze took in the demolished room, “you’ve got plenty to do. We appreciate everything you’ve done to help. Now stay out of the rest. Please.”

Angered by his tone, she nodded. “Better get going before Jonas has to lean on the horn. I’ll talk to you later.”

Steve and Paul came in after Al left. “We tacked up those tarps over the French doors,” Paul told her, sitting beside her on the brown sofa.