THIRTY

Payton’s telephone rang. She considered not answering, but the image of Aden appeared before her. Maybe he was calling to ask her to harbor him in her home. How would she respond? Did she feel sufficiently thankful for what he’d done for her? Did she want to have him around the rest of her life? That’s what it would be, two souls who knew too much about each other, clinging out of need rather than the love and devotion a relationship should embrace.

The next ring seemed more insistent. “Hello.”

“Hello, dear. I just called to see how you were.”

Helen had called for gossip, but right now Payton didn’t care. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“What are you doing?”

“Watching videos of the race.” Though she hadn’t been able to concentrate, visions of every poison plant from the shop kept floating onto the screen.

“Did the police badger you badly?”

“Nothing worse than before. Just more questions, like, what I did the two days leading up to the murder. Who did I talk to? Did I have any poisonous plants in the store.”

“What?”

“They didn’t say which one. And no, I didn’t ask.”

“So Sean was killed with a poisonous plant.”

“Helen, what if someone bought the murder weapon in my shop?”

“You’re not responsible for what people do with plants once they get them home.”

Payton couldn’t respond.

“Payton, if you owned a hardware store and someone bought a hammer to use as a murder weapon, you wouldn’t feel responsible, would you?”

Payton gave a nervous laugh. “Probably.”

Now Helen laughed too. “Well don’t.” Her voice turned pensive. “Who do you think did this?”

“I have no idea. It’s all I’ve been able to think of.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“No thank you. I’m going to replay these videos and go to bed.”

Payton laid the cordless receiver on the desk. What if she had sold the plant that had killed Sean? Could plants really be used in that way? They could be used to make drugs that people smoked or injected into their veins, so probably it could be done. She’d known about poisonous plants, of course, to warn her customers as the law required. But she definitely hadn’t known any of them were that poisonous. She hadn’t thought “poisonous” in that context meant anything other than a tummy ache and diarrhea if your kitty chewed a leaf.

The sergeant’s voice boomed in her mind. “To whom have you sold poisonous plants?”

Payton had a sudden urge for a tall, strong drink with a ton of ice cubes. She crossed the living room to the cabinet where Mamie’s little statuary dotted the shelves now instead of her hand-painted Mexican dinnerware. Payton’s favorite of the figurines was the little brass whale: tail flexed, poised for his next dive, she could feel the awesome power of the animal. She brushed two fingers down its satiny spine and along the outstretched fluke.

The liquor was locked in the bottom of the cabinet, away from prying fingers. She sorted through the mostly full bottles and selected the small one at the back. Frangelico. It had been Cameron’s favorite bedtime drink. Not something that was usually to her taste. For a long time, she cradled the bottle against her chest. She took a crystal glass and went to the kitchen, ignoring the tears blurring her vision.

As she passed the cellar door, she opened it and peered into the darkness of the stairwell. Harry Brice had fallen to his death here. Aden must have suffered a serious guilt trip on discovering the body, wishing he’d been home days earlier to have perhaps saved him.

She put the bottle and glass on the counter and dialed Aden’s cell phone. Several clicks and weird noises were followed by ringing, and more ringing. She listened until the automated operator began her spiel about Aden’s number being out of service. Maybe it was just as simple as him leaving his phone charger at home.

If that were the case, why hadn’t he called on a regular phone?

By moonlight, she poured a couple of ounces of the smooth brown liquid and took it to the patio. The breeze chilled the tears on her cheeks. Golden stars sparkled in an ebony sky. A few lights shone in the harbor below. Conversational voices wafted between the trees. Fireflies flickered inches above her lawn that needed mowing. Aden wouldn’t be doing it for her. Not any more. He’d spend his time stamping out license plates in the penitentiary. Would she go visit him? She shivered at the thought but decided she probably would. But wait! Aden hadn’t bought a poisonous plant. He hadn’t bought any plants.

Why use a plant as a murder weapon? Why not a knife or gun? Why take a chance the poison wouldn’t work, or might kill someone else? Which it had.

Was a similar sergeant questioning Frank’s friends and relatives as diligently as Espinoza was working the Sackets Harbor residents?

What was the killer plant? Payton wished her plant book were here instead of at the shop. She thought about going down to get it; she’d even taken her jacket from the closet when an awful thought hit with the physicality of a club. What if the killer purposely used a plant from her shop in order to incriminate her?

She hung up the jacket, went to the kitchen for a larger glass, filled it to the brim and went to boot up her computer. But Payton didn’t open the book file. She clicked on the Internet and, after some searching, found botanical.com, a site featuring poisonous plants. It had a frightening list that in the end didn’t help Payton determine what plant it might have been. There were so many that could kill. The site also said that most plant poisons were indefinable after death. That was probably why Espinoza wanted her to pinpoint the plants she’d sold—to narrow down the possibilities.

* * * *

7 a.m. The doorbell rang. Payton was already up but still wearing beat-up velour sweats. Sergeant Espinoza stood on the stoop.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” She backed to let him in, shut the door, returned to the kitchen, slid on the stool and went back to eating breakfast. She could feel him standing in the doorway behind her. “Pour yourself some coffee. Mugs are just above the machine.”

He obeyed and then sat across the table, pushing the cup forward and laying that irritating notebook before him.

“I assume this isn’t a social call. Did you find Aden?”

After a couple of long beats, Espinoza said, “I have a warrant to search your shop. I wanted to get to it early so you can still open on time.”

“That was very considerate of you.” His expression said she hadn’t been able to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “Are you looking for poisonous plants?”

“Mostly.”

“What makes you think the plant came from my shop?”

“We’re checking nurseries too, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Not really.” She stood up. “I’ll be dressed in a minute.”

* * * *

Payton watched out the window of the sergeant’s car. She was pretty sure a curtain moved in Helen’s upstairs window and stifled a wave. Two carloads of officers in unmarked cars sat in the parking lot beside the building. She let the men in and went to sit behind the counter, surprised not to be the least bit nervous. She took out the sales book while the men pawed through her store.

Espinoza approached. “You mentioned a book on poisonous plants. Could I see it?”

“I don’t have a book on poisonous plants. I have several on ‘regular’ plants and it tells which ones are poisonous in the blurb describing each one.” She reached under the counter.

“You could save time if you told me which ones to look for.”

She grinned and reached into her backpack on the floor behind her stool. “I made a list last night.” Seeing his raised eyebrows she explained, “After you asked about poison plants I was curious.” She handed him the list. “I got these off a site called botanical.com.”

He read out loud, “Larkspur, poinsettia, lily of the valley, hydrangea, monkshood, buttercup, oleander, Star of Bethlehem, and several varieties of lily. Do you sell any of these here?”

“In stock I have lily of the valley, the monkshood and hydrangea. I had the Star of Bethlehem until the other day. I just ordered more. If I were you, I’d check the monkshood first. Apparently the entire plant is poisonous, even the root. Lily of the valley is too, but to a far lesser degree. The active chemical ingredient in monkshood is aconite and it’s highly toxic. One fiftieth of a grain will kill a sparrow in a few seconds. A tenth of a grain can kill a rabbit in five minutes.”

A slow hiss of air escaped between the sergeant’s teeth as he scribbled.

“One problem,” she continued. “Over the past ten years, scientists have discovered the medicinal properties of aconite. Cold pills, ointments and tinctures now contain some. Last night I wondered whether it was possible to make a poisonous mixture from one of the medicines.”

Espinoza made notes. “You said you do have monkshood here in the store?” He shadowed her out to the patio.

She pointed at the plant sitting innocently in the center of the wicker table. “This is aconitum napellus. Apparently this variety is the most toxic.”

Sergeant Espinoza hesitated only a second before picking it up with his fingertips. “I’ll need to take this to headquarters.”

“I’ll box it so it won’t bite you.”

When Payton returned carrying the plant, most of Espinoza’s team had gone. “I’ll need a list of people who bought these, and your supplier’s name.”

“I’ll get it, but there’s something you might be overlooking. One: someone could conceivably come in and have stolen parts of the plant. Two: this plant grows wild in the woods. It enjoys shady spots with lots of water. Like on the edge of a marsh. There must be dozens of areas like that around here.”

“How many leaves would someone need? What would they do with them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me about MaryAnn Adams. How did she come to ask for a job?”

“She’s been trying to save money so she can afford to move out of the house she and Sean shared. She wanted a job that paid more than the Galley,” Payton lied. Let the sergeant find out the real reason for himself: that she’d left because of someone Sean had been dating at the restaurant.

“She hasn’t been back to the house in Chaumont since he died.”

“Do you blame her? Sergeant, you can’t be thinking she killed Sean.”

“Don’t you feel it’s a little suspicious that the day before her husband dies, she comes to work in a shop that contains poisonous plants?”

“I suppose someone in your position might look at it that way.” Damn, had MaryAnn come there for that purpose? No way. The woman suffered Sean’s abuse for years. She was just about to move out of his life. Why would she suddenly decide to kill?

Maybe, faced with the reality of her departure, Sean wouldn’t let her go. MaryAnn represented his failure in their marriage. Failure was one thing he didn’t handle easily. Payton glanced at the sergeant and saw in his eyes he knew what she’d just been thinking.

“I understood she moved out of their house Wednesday night,” Payton said.

“Telling, don’t you think?”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

“Where is she?”

“She told me she got a motel room but didn’t say where.”

“We’ve checked all the surrounding motels and she’s not in any of them. When is she scheduled to work next?”

“Today, but she’s been in shock. I’m not sure she’ll be in.”

“Tell me about your husband’s murder.”

Payton’s breath went out of her as though she’d been struck from behind. Her head spun and she grabbed for something solid, which ended up being the sergeant’s arm. He lowered her to the stool. When her vision cleared, she said, “No. I will not talk about that.”