Fruit of the Poisoned Tree (21 page)

“It’s very important,” she explained. “We need to look tonight before the item we’re looking for is gone.”

He leaned back in his chair and sized her up with his eyes. “What’s it worth to you? I’m not an unreasonable man.”

Steve reached for his wallet, but Peggy refused to believe it was the only way to get into the landfill. “And I’m sure you’re a compassionate man as well.” She smiled. “A man might be dead because of something out here in the landfill. We need your help to find it. I’m sure that would bring you deep personal satisfaction, wouldn’t it?”

The man scratched his stubbled chin. “Probably not as much as fifty dollars.”

Peggy’s smile changed as she leaned closer and tried another tactic. “There will be television cameras up here from
every
news network in North Carolina. You’ll be famous after they ask you questions about what happened.”

“Why didn’t you
say
so?” The man’s face brightened. “People say I sing like Roy Orbison. Look like him, too. Maybe I could get an audition for
American Idol
! Simon would
love
me! What do you need?”

He told them where they’d find the fresh garbage from the Myers Park area. It covered an entire hillside. There was no other way to get there but to tramp through the muck to the spot. Avoiding potentially dangerous objects, the group walked out through the sea of trash while the landfill manager took out his electric razor to shave before the TV cameras got there.

“Peggy,” Hunter began, “even if all of the trash from Myers Park
is
on this hill, how will we ever find a single jar of honey in it? It’s impossible!

“There were a good many cake boxes, you know? Those big, square white boxes you get from Harris Teeter. I thought we could look for a group of those, and that would be Beth’s trash.”

“Oh. I see. Easy.” Hunter rolled her eyes and mumbled, “We’re
never
going to find this.”

Peggy squeezed her arm. “Never is a very long time to spend in a garbage dump. Let’s think positively, and maybe we’ll be done by morning. That way, it will be so much easier to get the smell out of our hair. Maybe only one or two shampoos.”

Hunter groaned as they reached the designated area. “Let’s get this over with then. Too much shampooing makes my hair dry and frizzy.”

Sam cordoned off individual sections for each person to search through. The trash was knee high on the surface. Fortunately, they didn’t have to dig below that level to look for the jar. The large, intense spotlights made the night brighter than day. They illuminated every aluminum pie pan, disposable diaper, and open can in the mix.

Steve passed out surgical gloves and masks to each person, cautioning them not to touch their faces after rummaging through the trash. “These are only good if you don’t get the bacteria near your nose or mouth. If the glove breaks open, I have some others. If you get cut, I hope your tetanus vaccinations are up to date.”

One of Sam’s friends hooted. “What about hepatitis, man? Not to mention a hundred other diseases we could get out here. This place is a germ haven. Don’t you love it?”

Steve ignored him as he started looking through his section of trash. He watched Peggy, who was conveniently searching beside him. “He’s crazy, but he’s right, you know.”

“You mean about the possibility of disease?” She kept searching without looking up at him. “There’s probably more of a possibility for disease when you push a shopping cart at the supermarket.”

“Has anyone ever mentioned the degree of determination that drives you?” He smiled as she slowly looked up and focused on him. “You’re
very
persistent.”

“If you mean I don’t let a few bugs and viruses get in my way, you’re right. I’m not sure we can find the honey jar, but at least we can try.”

“Well then, have you thought what this might mean to an otherwise
closed
investigation?” Hunter asked from Peggy’s left side. “Bringing anything else into the equation could mean more trouble for Beth from both investigations.”

“The truth about what happened to Park is more important than Beth staying out of trouble,” Peggy told her. “I know she’ll feel that way, too.”

“I think I found something.” Selena held up a small jar from the other side of the hill. “It’s definitely a honey jar.” She slapped at a few ants who were keeping warm in the trash and didn’t want to let go of their prize. “Can we go home now?”

“Does it have a blue label?” Peggy asked.

“No.” Selena looked at the jar again, her hopeful smile fading. “It’s white. Does it have to be a
blue
label?”

“The jar we’re looking for has a blue label.” Peggy started sorting through her trash again. “Sorry, sweetie. I forgot to tell you.”

“That’s okay.” Selena tossed the jar over her shoulder. “I’ll look for one with a
blue
label until I fall down and die of disease from being out here in this cesspool of human waste.”

“Wow! Nice words,” the soccer player beside her exclaimed. “Will you marry me and write my next thesis?”

They continued searching past midnight as garbage trucks continued to come in and dump their loads around them. It was cold but thankfully, not raining. The orange sky looked far off behind the glaring lights, bright stars invisible. The stench was overpowering. From time to time, someone groaned as they stepped into a partial cheesecake or a half-eaten chicken carcass.

Peggy’s back was beginning to ache and her fingers were numb, but she kept digging. Doubt was beginning to seep in with the cold. Hunter’s words nagged at her.

Even if they
could
find the jar and she
could
prove her theory about what happened to Park, who would benefit from it? It could reopen the investigation into her friend’s death. She was worried about Beth. A deeper inquiry would bring out some unpleasant facts about the couple that had managed to stay hidden so far. If someone
had
hurt Park, she didn’t want him or her to get away. Yet at what price? Foxx and Reddman stood to lose both their parents if Beth went to jail.

It was the scientist in her that kept her from calling off the whole thing. Discovering the truth and understanding what made something happen drove her. She could never put away a jigsaw or crossword puzzle until the whole thing was finished. She couldn’t stop wondering until she knew what happened to Park either. She hoped he’d want it that way, too. She prayed they could prove Beth wasn’t involved in any way.

Sam yelled from the top of the hill. Weary workers stood up and stretched as he ran down toward them. “I think I found it, Peggy! You said a blue label, right?”

She looked at the jar Sam held up in the light. It was the jar from the welcome basket given to Park by the hotel in Philadelphia. The label was a little messed up with some trash on it, but the jar was intact with the cap on tight. Peggy held it up to the light. The honey was at the same level she saw it on Beth’s kitchen cabinet. “You’re right, Sam. Good work! We can all go home now.”

Steve and Hunter stood beside her and looked at the dark gold, syrupy fluid. The hot, white lights made it seem brighter than it was, showing the small particles in the otherwise clear substance.

“I hope it’s worth it,” Hunter said, transfixed by it.

“I hope so, too.” Peggy put the bottle into a resealable plastic bag for protection. “We should know in a few hours. I have samples of honey and pollen in my collection. If I’m right, this could be what killed Park.”

“No matter what, didn’t the car accident still kill him?” Steve asked.

“Not if there were contributing factors,” Hunter explained. “I mean, technically, the crash still killed him. But if something
made
him crash, something someone did to him, it’s a whole other ball game.”

Peggy thanked everyone for coming and offered to take them all out for breakfast. No one had the heart to eat anything with the way they smelled. All of them agreed to a rain check on the food.

“Where are the TV cameras?” The landfill manager glanced around the empty drive as everyone was leaving and he was tucking in his clean shirt. “You
promised
me TV cameras.”

“They’ll be here.” Peggy walked by him quickly. “You’ll get your ten seconds of fame. Thanks for your help.”

He turned away and made a grunting sound. She wasn’t sure if he was agreeing or blowing her off. Either way, if she was right, there
would
be television cameras. If she was wrong, she supposed she owed the man fifty dollars.

Steve threw sheets over the car seats in the Vue. “I’m prepared this time. I’ve learned to expect the unexpected when I’m with you.”

“You’re a wise man.” She sighed heavily as she got in the car with the precious jar they’d all given up a night’s sleep for. “I hope to God I’m right.”

“Well, it’s only a theory. Anyone can make a mistake. You’ll have to look at something else if you’re wrong.”

“No, I mean I hope I’m right doing this. Sometimes all branches of science get so eager to show everyone the possibilities, to find the facts, they forget not everyone might be ready for them.”

Steve covered her hand with his. “If someone poisoned your friend, you’re right to find out. I’d want my friend to do that for me, even if it made other people’s lives uncomfortable for a while. You’re doing the last thing you’ll ever do for him, Peggy. Don’t feel bad about it.”

“Thank you. I’m not sure if Beth will feel the same way. But I appreciate the sentiment
and
the support.”

Steve dropped her off at her house. “I’d come in, but I have to go home and stand in the shower for an hour or two while I burn these clothes. Let me know if you find anything. I’ll be glad to go with you to the police or to talk to Beth. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

“And I’d kiss you for offering.” She grinned. “But I don’t think we should get that close. With both of us smelling this bad, it could cause some kind of explosion that would destroy the very fabric of time.”

He laughed. “No more science fiction for you. Good night, Peggy. I’ll talk to you later.” He didn’t try to kiss her.

 

AN HOUR LATER, AFTER taking a long shower, Peggy threw away her ancient gray sweat suit. She walked Shakespeare after cleaning up what was left of Mai’s begonia, which he’d managed to knock on the floor. There wasn’t much, but she found one healthy stem just above a leaf node and cut it off. After dipping the end in rooting hormone, she put the cutting in some moist potting soil and said a little prayer over it as she put it into the kitchen window. It couldn’t hurt.

Peggy sat down at the kitchen table when she was finished and looked at the jar of honey in the plastic bag. It would be simple to throw it back in the garbage. Hunter, Sam, and the other kids out there at the landfill wouldn’t care what happened now that the adventure was over. Hunter might even welcome not seeing the jar again. Peggy could explain to Steve, and he’d understand.

It was only that nagging voice in the back of her head that drove her to search for the jar once she’d thought about the bee pollen found in Park’s system. It was seeing Park’s tired face at the hotel when he invited her to dinner when they got home. It was recalling when he stood beside her as they lowered John’s coffin into the ground. Sense and reason were fighting a losing battle against those powerful images in her mind.

If she was right and the honey was poisoned, the chances were the police would begin looking at Beth again as a suspect. She had opportunity. They’d argue she had motive. Peggy couldn’t offer them a better suspect. She didn’t know for sure she ever could. How much satisfaction would there be in seeing Beth behind bars for a crime Peggy knew she didn’t commit? To see her children raised by grandparents or strangers?

She roused herself from her slumped, exhausted position at the kitchen table. On the other hand, if the honey
was
poisoned and it
was
responsible for Park’s death, someone killed her friend. Or at least contributed to his death. She had a responsibility to him as well. She had to trust her instincts. Beth
didn’t
do this. She had to believe they would find the person who did this to Park, even if Beth had to suffer some discomfort while they searched for the truth.

Making the decision gave her the strength to put the kettle on the stove and go upstairs to get dressed. She had no classes that day, but she was due at Whiskers and Paws for Shakespeare’s first obedience class that afternoon. Plenty of time to go in and talk to Mai and spend some time at the Potting Shed.

She put on her warm cranberry-red sweater and matching wool slacks, then fussed with her hair before finally covering it with a cranberry wool cap. She drank her tea and ate some orange bread before closing Shakespeare into the laundry room. “You only have yourself to blame,” she told the whining Great Dane. “If you’ll stop vandalizing the house, I’ll let you out. Until then, you’re under restriction.”

Peggy rode her bicycle through the early morning traffic before rush hour. It was cold, frost making her face feel tight. There was light on the horizon behind the tall buildings that made up the downtown area of Charlotte as the sun began to rise. It would be another hard night for the trees and plants around the city. The heavy white frost lay thick as icing on a birthday cake as she locked her bike in the rack outside the uptown precinct.

“Can I help you?” the sergeant behind the desk asked brusquely when she walked through the door.

She glanced at the three men and one woman already waiting in the outer area. They looked back at her with vacant stares and hostile expressions. “I’d like to see Mai Sato. Is she in?”

“Not yet. Take a seat.”

Peggy sat by the side door that led to the offices in the back. John had worked here for twenty years, but everything had changed since he died. Once in a while, she met someone who’d worked with him. Mostly his friends were retired or had changed divisions.