“‘What is this?’ Zack said. ‘Some freaking TV detective show? Why keep it?’
“‘Arthur’s daughter hates me,’ Blossom said. ‘She’s been to that lawyer, Nancie Hays. Hays is trouble.’
“‘So?’ Zack said. ‘You can afford good lawyers, too. If anything happens to Violet so soon after Daddy bit the dust, it will look suspicious.’
“Zack gulped his beer and ordered another,” Phil said. “He told her, ‘I don’t know why you offed the old guy, anyway. You could have slipped out any time to see me.’
“‘No, I couldn’t,’ she said. ‘He was around the house all the time. He couldn’t keep his hands off me. It was horrible. He’d go to his office sometimes, but I never knew when. The one time I went to see you, that housekeeper caught me. Couldn’t wait to tell me the next day.
“‘I wanted his money and I got it. Now the daughter’s after me. She’ll fight me every step of the way unless I do something. That’s why I kept it. They didn’t find it in him and they won’t find it in her. Most medical examiners don’t know to look for it and he didn’t have an autopsy. She won’t, either. Her death will look like a heart attack. Runs in the family.’
“Then she laughed,” Phil said.
“She wants to kill Violet, too,” Helen said. “That gives me chills.”
“It made Zack hot under the collar,” Phil said. “His voice got low and threatening. ‘Don’t do it, Blossom,’ he said. ‘Be patient a little longer. Once his estate makes it through probate, we can get married.’”
“What did Blossom say to that?” Helen asked.
“Nothing,” Phil said. “The silence was so loud even a lunkhead like Zack realized she didn’t want to tie the knot. He was so upset he abandoned his beer and started whining. ‘What’s wrong?’ he said. ‘I thought you wanted to marry me.’
“Blossom got real cagey. ‘I’m not sure I want to tie myself down again so soon, Zack.’
“He got mad. He gripped his beer bottle so hard I thought it would crack. ‘It’s that new handyman, isn’t it?’ he said.”
“Zack was jealous,” Helen said.
“Of me,” Phil said, and grinned. “I realize I’m serious competition—”
“Can we go back to the story?” Helen asked. “They were arguing and Zack was jealous.”
“Right. Blossom said, ‘Keep your voice down. He’s not a handyman. He’s an estate manager.’
“Zack started whining again. ‘It’s not fair,’ he said. ‘I do the dirty work—’
“‘Dirty work?’ Blossom said. ‘You picked two off the ground.’
“‘That’s two more than you picked up,’ Zack said. ‘You thought that was a mango tree. I’m the one who found out why you couldn’t eat those mangoes. I bothered to talk to the girl at the hotel.’
“‘You must have been talking in braille,’ Blossom said, ‘the way you had your hands all over her.’
“‘Well, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had them,’ Zack said. ‘I gave you a wedding present—the way to end your marriage. A secret way. Of course it doesn’t have to stay a secret. I could tell the police what really killed Arthur.’
“‘You’d go to prison, too,’ she said.
“‘Not if I cut a deal,’ he said. ‘I didn’t make that curry. I just gave you some pretty seeds. I had no idea they were poison. There’s no proof I had anything to do with Arthur’s death. No one ever saw me at his house, not even that nosy housekeeper. Don’t forget, Arthur wasn’t cremated. They can still dig him up and find it.’
“‘I couldn’t cremate him,’ Blossom said. ‘He had a prepaid burial plan.’
“That’s when Blossom seemed to realize her hunk had his own plan. She hugged him and kissed his cheek. ‘Zack, honey, I’m grateful,’ she said, ‘but I’m not ready to get married so soon after Arthur. It wouldn’t look right. What if I gave you a gift instead?’
“‘How big a gift?’ Zack asked. Suddenly he was sober.
“‘Two million dollars,’ she said.
“‘Pocket change,’ Zack said. ‘I’m not interested in a going-away present. If I marry you, I’m entitled to five million. Actually, I’m entitled to more. But I’m not greedy. Marry me and we’ll have a nice arrangement. You’ll go your way and I’ll go mine. We’ll both have enough to do whatever we want.’
“‘I’ll think about it,’ Blossom said. Her voice could have frosted beer mugs, but Zack didn’t notice.”
Phil turned off the highway in Lake Worth, a town near Palm Beach. Soon they were in a neighborhood of Latino working people.
“Then what happened?” Helen asked.
“The bar owner came by and asked me—or rather Cool Bob—if I’d look at the filters in the main unit. I looked, but it could have been run by gerbils for all I knew. I said I had new filters in the truck, ducked out the door, jumped in the truck and didn’t look back.”
“That’s it?” Helen didn’t hide her disappointment. “You never learned the name of the poison?”
“Yes, I did,” he said. “Later. I Googled ‘poison,’ ‘mango’ and ‘Maldives’—that’s the islands where she married Arthur. That’s how I found out about the suicide tree,
“Blossom got away with murder,” Helen said.
“Not yet,” Phil said.
The Jeep cruised down Military Trail, a wide street dotted with car repair shops, pawnshops and Latino supermarkets. Tucked between them were small cinder block restaurants, painted bright turquoise, yellow or red.
“See that Mexican restaurant there?” Phil said.
“The one with the big Closed sign?” Helen asked.
“That’s where Blossom killed her boyfriend,” Phil said. “Right now the docs think Zack died of food poisoning after a Mexican dinner. I know Blossom poisoned him. I saw her. I just didn’t realize it. The restaurant was unfairly shut down. I’ll give you the details over dinner. You’re going to help me prove she’s a killer.”
“Do I get dessert?” Helen asked.
CHAPTER 34
Tacos al Carbon looked like a late-night fiesta. A square of asphalt behind the Jiffy Lube on Military Trail was strung with lights and packed with people. Young women in vivid clothes looked like they were finishing—or starting—a night at the clubs. They chatted and flirted with young dark-haired men. Older men and women in uniforms and scrubs had the weary look of workers heading home. Some placed orders in rapid Spanish. Others spoke slow “gringo Spanish” or English.
All were there with one purpose—to celebrate real Mexican food.
Helen saw yellow taco trucks with red awnings on one side of the lot and a yellow brick building on the other. A sign promised ROASTED CORN.
Diners picked their drinks out of white plastic coolers and bellied up to the trucks to put in their orders and pay. Phil parked the Jeep in the back of the crowded lot and said, “I know what I want. What can I get you?”
“A chicken burrito,” Helen said. “And guacamole.”
“You want a beer?” he asked, poking through a cooler.
“Water,” Helen said. “We have to meet the captain at seven thirty tomorrow morning.”
“Quick! That couple is leaving the picnic table at the end of the lot,” Phil said. “Snag it.”
The young Latino couple was still gathering their trash when Helen claimed the table. She watched Phil juggle two brimming paper plates, a bottle of water, a beer and an aluminum container with a white paper bag on top. Once the food was safely on the table, Phil pulled a wad of paper napkins from his pocket.
