The Scarlet Pepper (13 page)

“And yet, Parker was poisoned,” Manny said. “Game or not, when we spoke with Annie Campbell this morning she described in great detail how you’d planned his murder.”

“Am I a suspect?” My voice squeaked.

“Our lab is testing specifically for yew extract,” he said instead of answering the question. “Tell me, will the results be a positive hit for the plant?”

“I don’t know.”

Manny stroked his mustache thoughtfully.

“Tell me about the yew bush,” he said.

“What yew bush? What do you mean?” I was still reeling over the shock that I might actually be a suspect in Parker’s murder. “There aren’t any on the White House property.”

“Just in general, what do you know about yew bushes?”

“I suppose you mean the European yew. Although it can be used as a hedge, it’s actually a small conifer tree. It’s an evergreen with short, needle-like leaves.”

“I see. And what part of the plant is poisonous?”

“Pretty much all of it, except the red berry. Its scientific name is the Greek word for poison. The seeds have the highest level of toxin, followed by its leaves. The alkaloid taxine is a toxin specific to the yew. If you ingest enough of it, studies have shown that it can cause cardiac arrest. Actually, if that’s what killed Parker, he was lucky that he died quickly. I’ve read case studies detailing attempted suicides where yew was ingested, but death didn’t happen immediately. The patients lingered for days and in terrible pain, but the damage done to the internal organs was irreversible and fatal.”

“You seem very knowledgeable,” Manny pointed out.

Jack had warned me not to offer information too freely, and here I was making myself look like an expert in poisonous plants.

“I’m a trained horticulturist. I can bore you with all sorts of information about the European yew and any number of other plants. So can Gordon and Lorenzo.”

“You’re talking about the other two White House gar
deners, Gordon Sims and Lorenzo Parisi?” Manny asked while his sergeant noisily wrote down their names in his notebook. “Are you suggesting that one of them may have had a reason to poison Parker?”

“No. I’m not saying anything like that.”

“Then you’re saying that you’re the only one with a motive?”

“No! I’m not—” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This wasn’t going nearly the way I’d expected.

“Casey, we’re trying to get all the facts. We need you to be completely honest with us,” Manny said. “The argument you had with Parker the night before his death, what was it about?”

“Oh, it was stupid. He’d chased me down as I was leaving for the night. He demanded an impromptu interview even though he knew I didn’t have the authority to talk with the press.”

“But you were seen talking with him. Why?”

“He claimed to have a source that could prove the First Lady’s kitchen garden is a sham. I told him that his source was wrong.”

“And then what did you do?” Manny asked after a long silence. “Did you follow him?”

“No. I did nothing.
Media Today
’s new White House television correspondent, Kelly Montague, had chased after him and accused him of stealing some papers from her desk.”

“Is that so?” He exchanged a look with his sergeant. “What kind of papers?”

“I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me.”

“And you didn’t follow Parker to a parking structure?”

“No. Kelly Montague rushed off in the same direction that he’d taken, toward Seventeenth Street. I don’t know where either of them was heading.”

Manny seemed satisfied by that. “What did you do after you left the White House Friday night?”

“I went home, ate dinner, and went to bed.”

“Are you sure you didn’t go back out later that night?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I was tired so I stayed home all evening.”

“Did you invite anyone over to visit you?”

“No. Why?”

“Are you sure you didn’t hook up with Griffon Parker late Friday evening, perhaps after midnight? Did you have a sexual relationship with him?”

“Good God, no!” Manny actually thought the mean-spirited Parker and I had shared bedroom refreshments? “Ewww! That would have never happened.” I shook my head, desperate to get rid of that awful image.

Manny shrugged. “You never know.”

“Believe me, I wanted nothing to do with him.” I felt like I needed a glass of water to wash the nasty taste out of my mouth. Make that a shower and some bleach.

Manny smiled at my disgusted grimace. “It’s my job to ask uncomfortable questions.”

“Well, now you know the answer. If we were the last two people on earth, the human race would be doomed.”

He followed up with some other questions regarding my past experience with Griffon Parker. Manny had a kind voice and a fatherly way about him, which no doubt made him an effective investigator. While I remained cautious, I found myself offering suggestions and providing as much assistance as possible to help move the investigation forward. Jack had been wrong. I had no reason to clam up around Manny. I wasn’t guilty. I had nothing to hide.

In response to my answers, Manny would smile and nod and plunge in with another question. And then it was over. Manny’s sergeant closed his notebook and turned off the tape recording.

“One last thing,” Manny said as we headed toward the door. “Just a little thing. Don’t leave town without contacting someone in the police department first, preferably me.”

“Don’t leave? Why?” He wouldn’t want to keep a close eye on my whereabouts unless…“You—you actually think I killed Griffon Parker?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s my job to follow the evidence.” His fatherly smile slipped away. He turned his
gaze up to the ceiling and heaved a loud sigh, as if he truly regretted what he was going to have to do next. “Right now, the evidence is pointing us toward you.”

Yesterday I’d refused to believe Francesca capable of murder. Today I was starting to wonder.

“You should understand by now how this works, Casey.” Manny’s resigned manner sent shivers down my arms. “Motive. Means. And opportunity. You have all three.”

M
Y
mind buzzed as I stepped out of the Map Room and into the vaulted, pink-marble-walled center hallway. I felt as if I were trapped in a fog-shrouded nightmare as I headed toward the grounds office. With each step I tried to get my hands around what had just happened and define the emotion coiling around my chest.

Anger?

Sadness?

Fear?

No. No. And no.

I think I was in shock. Was that an emotion? It felt more like the absence of one.

How could anyone, especially a trained investigator like Manny, think I would murder Parker?

Because he’d found my name in Parker’s notebook? Parker disliked my garden, and he hadn’t forgiven me for surviving his attempt to ruin my organic program this past spring. I’m sure my name showed up in his reporter’s note
book many, many times as he’d plotted new ways to make my life as miserable as his own sorry one.

And how in blooming hell could Manny believe for even a microsecond I’d let Parker into my bed? I’d always considered Manny a highly skilled detective with sharp instincts. What would cause his instincts to say, “Now, there’s a woman who likes her men as cranky as a rabid coon and old enough to be her father?”

And what about Francesca?

What game was she playing now?

“Casey?” Jack caught my arm as he followed me down the hall. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I said, my voice tinny and as tight as my chest. “Why?”

“Detective Hernandez suggested I should check on you, that’s why. What happened in there?”

“Nothing happened. I answered his questions. I don’t know why everyone is making such a big deal out of Parker’s death.”

“The man was murdered,” Jack reminded me, “which also means there’s a killer at large.”

“But that’s none of my business. I learned my lesson. I’m not Miss Marple.” I winced as I remembered the disastrous Secret Service training session that drove home how ill equipped I was to protect either myself or anyone around me. Compared with the other staff members, who had passed with flying colors that day, my instincts were sorely lacking. “I don’t have the skills to confront a killer.”

“God, I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear you admit that,” he said. “I don’t want you to do anything that would put your life in danger.”

He didn’t need to worry. I hadn’t done anything. Someone else had apparently done it to me. Was Francesca capable of murder? Was she trying to frame me for Parker’s murder? I started down the hallway again.

“Casey, don’t run off. Talk to me.”

I stopped and turned to face him. “I wasn’t running. I have work that needs to get done.”

“You’re upset,” he said.

“I’m not—” I nodded to an usher and two maids who hurried past. I stepped closer to Jack and lowered my voice. “I’m okay. I’m not going to charge into the middle of a murder investigation.”

“I know you’re not.” He sounded so damned calm. So reasonable.

“Then why are you worried?” I flapped my arms in frustration. “I’m fine.”

“Are you? You walked right past me just now. Even after I called your name, you kept walking.”

“Did I?” I shook my head.

His expression softened. “I think you should sit down. The physician’s office is right back there. You could grab a chair in the nurse’s office for a moment to give you time to catch your breath. Or you could sit in the Secret Service office. I’m sure the duty agents won’t mind.”

I gave a pained smile and shook my head. “I may be rattled, but you don’t have to worry about me. Really, Jack. Remember I have the Calhoun family’s backbone of steel. It’s withstood much worse storms.”

“I know.”

I cringed remembering just how much he knew about me. He’d read my security background report. He knew how my father had abandoned me in a time of great danger. Jack had read the police reports detailing my mother’s murder. He knew I’d also been shot and left to slowly bleed to death at my dead mother’s side. But I hadn’t died.

I drew a deep breath and straightened my spine.

“If you can get away for a few minutes, I could use some coffee,” I said.

His furrowed brows relaxed. “Are you buying?”

“Only if you’re sharing state secrets with me,” I countered. We’d started back toward the Palm Room when I remembered that frustrating thing called work. I had piles of it waiting for me. “I know I invited you, but—” I reached into my pocket to pull out my cell phone to check the time. Every Monday, Gordon held a staff lunch in the grounds
office to review the progress of our various projects. With everything going on, it was a meeting I couldn’t miss.

Along with my cell phone, Milo’s mangled piece of paper from the garden fell out of my pocket. I’d like to tell you that my first thought was to throw the paper into the nearest trash bin, but the devil made me curious. I unfolded the paper and read the handwritten note.

My chest tightened.

I read it again.

“This is impossible,” I said.

“What?” Jack asked as I hurried past him.

“I have to catch Manny. He has to see this.”

With Jack racing alongside me, I jogged back to the Map Room, where I found Manny and his sergeant being escorted toward the Palm Room by Barney, the uniformed division officer who had waited outside the Map Room door.

“I didn’t write this,” I said and thrust the paper into Manny’s hand.

He gave me a curious look as he unfolded the paper and read. “What is this?”

“I think the ‘what’ is pretty obvious. It’s the ‘who’ that should concern you.”

Manny accepted that gem of advice about as well as my aunt’s old bulldog, Beauregard, accepts his medicine. I half expected Manny to spit it back at me.

“Where did you get this letter?” he demanded after herding his sergeant, Jack, and me back into the Map Room and shutting the door behind us.

By this time adrenaline was pounding through my veins with such force I felt short of breath. “The—the paper was blowing around in the garden when the volunteers were having their picture taken this morning. I hadn’t taken the time to look at it until just now. Actually, I was going to throw it out, but thought I should take a look at it first.”

“You almost put this in the garbage?” Manny shook his head.

“That was before I read it.”

His expression grew all the more intense as he continued
to study the note. “What did you do to it? Why is it soaking wet and torn?”

“Well, I didn’t find the note. Milo did. It tore when I pried it from his mouth.”

“This was in a dog’s mouth?” Manny clutched the mushy paper and started to pace again. “I doubt we’ll get DNA or fingerprints off it, but you never know.”

Jack tried to pretend he wasn’t interested, but his gaze kept traveling over toward Manny’s shoulder in an attempt to read the note.

“Sergeant Turk, I need an evidence bag and tag for this.”