Fruit of the Poisoned Tree

survive. Her experiment with the strawberries was completely destroyed, and she had mites on all of her plants. She was probably going to have to spray for them since she couldn’t use complementary planting to control them in that environment.

Sighing over the loss of time and her companions, she spent two hours trying to straighten up the mess and check on all of her plants. The frog helped himself to some of the mites, and she thanked him. “If I had a few more like you, I could clean them up pretty easy.”

She went back upstairs to her room and showered. Shakespeare was already in her bed when she came out. He hadn’t eaten anything or ripped anything apart, so she collapsed in bed beside him. His coat felt smooth and warm under her hand as she petted him. Her eyes were just closing when her computer made a loud beeping noise. Immediately, she jumped out of bed and checked her e-mail.

Nightflyer sent her an instant message: “r u busy? if not, let’s play!”

Peggy almost didn’t go. He’d ignored her summons. But curiosity finally won over impatience. She sat down in her chair and went to the new chess site. When she was logged on, she found Nightflyer waiting for her.

“Hello, Nightrose! Are you ready to play?”

“I’m ready. What happened to you? Are you okay?” Peggy made her opening gambit: pawn to e4

He returned: pawn to c5. “I’m fine. Just a little trip I had to take. Sorry I couldn’t let you know. I was off-line.”

“No computer? That’s awful. How did you survive?”

“It wasn’t easy. What have you been up to?”

“Don’t you know?” She moved her pawn to e5.

“I have a few ideas.” Knight to d5. “How is your friend doing?”

“Beth? She’s going to be fine. The police have made arrests for Park and Isabelle’s murders.” Knight to c3.

“The conservationist and the housekeeper. I know. But I don’t think Davis is responsible. Do you?” Nightflyer moved his pawn to f6.

Peggy shrugged and moved her pawn to d4. “He was at the hotel. He had access to the gift baskets. He had motive. It makes sense.”

“He only poisoned four baskets. There were ten lawyers staying at the same hotel. Why not put poisoned honey in all the gift baskets that went to the lawyers representing the firm that wants to drill for oil? Why only poison four of them?”

“Good point. Why do you think he would only poison four of them?”

“He wouldn’t. If Fletcher Davis is passionate enough about his cause to poison four men, why not all of them? Hotel videotapes show he had access to all of the baskets. But they don’t show him touching all of them.” Bishop to g7.

“He could’ve tampered with the videotapes.” Bishop to e3. “Or maybe he didn’t have time to poison the others. Maybe he panicked.”

“That’s possible. Or he didn’t do it.” Knight to d4. Nightflyer took Peggy’s pawn.

“Then who did?” Knight to f6.

“Perhaps someone who wanted to throw the blame on Tomorrow’s Children. Maybe even someone who wanted to murder Park and get away with it. Park is the only lawyer who also had his mother killed.”

“Which the police speculate Alice Godwin did, since she had the murder weapon, motive, and opportunity. She has no alibi between the time she left Beth’s at 9 and the time she found Isabelle at 10 and called Cindy Walker.”

“But just a few days ago, the police thought your friend committed both crimes. How reliable is that?”

“I don’t know.”

“And you don’t want to know since your friend is safe?”

“That’s not fair! I didn’t have to tell the police about the poisoned honey. I already jeopardized Beth and the children by being objective.”

“But you want to know the truth, Peggy. Who stands to gain by Park and Isabelle’s deaths? There may be someone besides Beth who fits the bill. Something still seems wrong to me. There are too many unanswered questions. I believe Cindy Walker is involved in some way.”

Peggy considered the questions as she poised to make her next move. “Maybe I’m too close to this. Everyone involved is like family. Beth is free now. The cases against Mrs. Godwin and Davis are strong. Why stir the pot because of a few unanswered questions?” She finally moved her queen to e2.

“That makes it difficult. But you’re a good researcher. You can’t quit until all the answers are there.” Queen to a5.

Peggy changed the subject. “You seem preoccupied tonight. Is anything wrong?”

“Nothing much. I may be going away again for a while. Don’t try to contact me. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

“Safe? What’s going on?” She asked him. “Can I help in some way?”

“No. Thank you for asking. I’ll contact you when I can. Thank you for the game.”

“But we haven’t finished . . .”

Nightflyer logged off, and the phone rang. She glanced at the clock on the computer. It was almost midnight. He was calling to explain the rest.

Instead, it was Beth’s parents in Salisbury. “We’ve been trying to contact Beth since ten when the kids went to bed,” her father told Peggy. “She’s been calling every night at ten to tell them good night. We had a time getting Foxx and Reddman to sleep. I don’t think it’s our phone line.”

“Have you tried her cell phone?” Peggy asked.

“Yes. We’ve been calling her all night on both phones. We even e-mailed her.”

“Let me see what I can do. I’ll let you know as soon as I get in touch with her.”

“Thanks, Peggy. We’re coming down there in the morning with the kids since this thing seems to be over. I know there’s nothing wrong with her. Maybe she went out.”

Peggy agreed and hung up the phone. Something in the tone of Beth’s father’s voice told her he was lying when he said he knew there was nothing wrong with her. She dialed Beth’s phone number. When she didn’t get an answer, she called her cell phone. When there was no response there either, she put on a sweater and jeans, then peeked in at Shakespeare and decided to take him with her.

It was only a short ride down Providence Road to Myers Park, but it would make her feel better if he was with her. “Promise you won’t trash the house once we get there. And you won’t pull me through a tree.”

The dog wagged his tail and barked enthusiastically. Peggy took that as a good sign and slipped on his leash. She put on her purple jacket and scarf, slipped heavy purple gloves on her hands. “I hope there’s nothing wrong either,” she told the dog as she worried out loud. “But let’s go see.”

Queens Road was completely empty. The traffic lights blinked yellow, glittering on the damp pavement. Peggy raced her bike through the silence, between the shadows of the empty oak trees and the slumbering houses. Shakespeare kept pace with her in his long, loping stride.

All the stores at the corner of Providence Road were shuttered and sleeping. Two police cruisers were parked in the empty parking lot. They were turned so that the driver’s side windows were facing each other as they watched her go by. Peggy would have waved. She probably knew them. But with one hand holding Shakespeare’s leash and the other holding the handlebars, she didn’t think she could manage it.

Providence Road was empty, too. The big Presbyterian church sat squat and solid on the corner. Light showed through the stained glass windows and spilled into the street. Peggy looked at the window where Jesus