The Beekeeper's Secret

by Sally Fernandez

  The same chair legs scuffed across the floor in the opposite direction as they were being placed along the perimeter of the room. Then, the ten souls, seeming less lost, headed for refreshments.

  “You don’t talk much, do you?” Allison asked.

  The gentleman standing next to her reached over to fill his coffee cup. He was the same man who sat across from her each week. “My name is Steven.”

  “Hi, Steven. I’m Allison.” She tapped her coffee to his in a symbolic toast. “You’ve been coming to this group for a couple of weeks, but you’ve yet to have spoken.”

  “I find it more cathartic to listen to others grieving.”

  “Did you lose your wife?”

  “No, Sister.”

  Allison continued to rattle on in a nervous tenor, surprised that she found Steven to be quite charming, in a mysterious sort of way. And as much as she would have liked to continue the conversation, she needed to get home to the kids. “I have to go, but I hope to see you next week.”

  “Perhaps. Drive carefully, Allison.” Steven was the first to leave.

  Chapter 21

  Sleepless Inside The Beltway

  Max gave up the fight, unable to sleep, and moseyed into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. She spent the remaining predawn hours trying to identify the mysterious plant leaves Sam found at the Clovis Hill Apiary. She had her suspicions, but needed confirmation before proceeding in the wrong direction.

  After painstakingly using various Apps, she was getting nowhere. The PlantNet Plant Identification, Plantifier, and the Virginia Tech Tree ID Apps, came up short.

  Who do I think I am, a botanist? “Aha, a botanist, of course!”

  Without delay, she scanned a photo of one of the leaves to a professor she met earlier at Virginia Polytechnic Institute in Blacksburg, Virginia. With her fingers crossed, she hoped the professor would go straight to the source; the one who created the Virginia Tech Tree ID App. Once the email and photo were on their way, she grabbed another dose of caffeine and began to tackle the beekeeper’s calendar with more vigorous scrutiny. While she scribbled a handful of notes, she made a few surprising discoveries.

  Slater had two appointments with Oliver Prince—February 20 and November 27. Something about that last date seems oddly familiar. Max skimmed the other notes she had previously taken while reviewing Jeff’s calendar. “Hold on a sec! Mizukami—it has to be a coincidence.” The dates lined up. It was the day after Jeff visited the apiary and ten days before Prince was killed. Japan is not exactly around the corner, she thought.

  Justin Slater had stooped to new subterranean levels, along with his highly questionable methods. But there was one question that begged further investigation: how did Slater make the connection between Jeff, the beekeeper, and a doctor from Japan?

  Her mind suddenly shifted to the plant leaf and then to Sam. “Where the hell is he?” she said aloud in a mildly annoyed tone. She was eager to share the information she had uncovered. All of a sudden, she found it a nuisance not to have him under the same roof and readily available—even though the rented apartment he latched onto was only a few blocks away. Now edging toward the noon hour, she had yet to lay eyes on him.

  Reeling in her impatience, Max switched her focus and began hoping for something concrete from Virginia Tech, as she moved on to the next mystery. “Now, who’s Sorenson?” Miss Ellie did not recall his first name, but the last name appeared three times on the calendar. What puzzled Max was Sorenson’s few scheduled appointments that were scattered over the calendar year. But Miss Ellie said he was a frequent visitor. Without a full name other than he worked for the FDA, and that he most likely met Jeff in Brazil, it was akin to looking for the identity of a plant leaf. “Another strikeout!” While sulking on the proverbial bench, the phone rang. “Or maybe not,” she said, as she noticed the caller ID.

  “Hello, this is Max Ford.”

  “This is Professor Cleveland from the Department of Biological Sciences at Virginia Tech. I received a photo of a plant leaf that I understand you’d like to know its identity.”

  “Thank you for calling, Professor. Were you able to identify it?” She refrained from sounding overly eager.

  “May I ask where you got the leaf?” The professor asked. His curiosity was obvious.

  “It was discovered during an investigation. Please tell me what you can about the origin.”

  “The name is Baccharis dracunculifolia.”

  Max was flabbergasted, but elated that her suspicion was confirmed.

  “It’s a rare plant used for medicinal purposes and comes from South America. It’s used to produce green…”

  “Propolis!” she blurted out.

  “Impressive. Now that you know what the plant is, are you aware that it’s listed on the FDA’s Poisonous Plant Database? Unfortunately, there’s no GRIN number.”

  “A what number?”

  “The Germplasm Resources Information Network established by the USDA. It provides information on the genetic material in plants and animals.”

  “It doesn’t make sense that the FDA would consider it poisonous, if there’s no record of it in the information network.”

  “Yes, I found that rather odd myself. I hope at least knowing the species is of help.”

  “Thank you, Professor; it’s most helpful.”

  “Good day, then.”

  As Max heard the click on the other line, she mulled over her East-Meets-West theory. Could Dr. Mizukami have been helping Prince develop a super pill? Beekeeper becomes chemist? Instead of importing the drug illegally, perhaps someone or some entity had him making it illegally under the radar?

  “You must be enchanted by the sound of your voice.”

  Max did not hear Sam arrive and was obviously surprised, but it didn’t stop her from catching his comment and volleyed with a quick retort. “Taking the morning off to decorate?”

  Sam ignored her. “I see you’ve been burning the midnight oil as well.” It was clear from the tousled mess of hair and the bloodshot eyes that she had spent little time in her apartment upstairs.

  “You, too, huh?”

  “You might say I’ve been putting in a little overtime on this case myself. And now, I may have a theory. Give me ten and then pop into my office.”

  “First, how about I order in pizza? I’m starved.”

  “Great, me too. By the way, have you noticed that black Mercedes parked out front? It was there the day you left for Clovis and it’s there again today.”

  Max got up from her chair and walked out into the reception area and over to the window. “I think I saw the car once when I was out for my morning run.” Max got a cold tingle up her spine, but blew it off. “He’s probably just a driver for one of the neighbors waiting for a pickup. We do have several illustrious government officials living in the hood. Aside from yourself, of course.”

  “Max, look at the street. It’s empty. So why is he parked out front?” Sam asked.

  They momentarily locked eyes, sharing the same thought.

  “I’m not going to live in fear. Let me go order the pizza and then I have something to tell you too.”

  Sam was concerned that she did not take the stranger seriously. But he remained seated on the sofa, keeping a watchful eye on the car.

  Chapter 22

  Pizza Delivery

  “Dimitri’s Pizzeria.”

  “Goodness gracious, I got the man himself.”

  “Hey, Max, what can I get ya?”

  “The usual—wait a minute, make that two. One medium, one small.”

  “The same?”

  “Yes, and can you get them to me in the next ten minutes?”

  “Sure, thing! It must be your lucky day; I put a similar order in the oven a few minutes ago.”

  “You’re the best—and Dimitri, I need another favor.”


  “Anything for you, doll!”

  “Can you have Gianni deliver the small pizza first, to the guy in the black Mercedes parked across the street in front of my house.”

  “Aren’t you a sweetheart.”

  “In ten.”

  “He’ll be there.”

  Max returned to the reception area and sat down next to Sam. “Hey, guess what this is?” she asked, dangling one of the plant leaves, distracting him from the scene outside.

  “Seriously?”

  “Baccharis dracunculifolia.”

  “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

  “Ha ha. Now we know the name of this monster. Get this: it’s listed as a poisonous plant on the FDA’s database.”

  “Hey, that’s the same plant the Japanese doctor was using to cure people!”

  “Correctamundo! And that doctor met with our beekeeper. Incidentally, the same day Slater showed up at the apiary.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow; it finally hit him. “Wait a minute. The Japanese doc produced propolis from that plant?”

  “Terrific memory. So perhaps Prince was learning how to do the same thing.”

  “Max, Prince was a beekeeper; he’d have access to all the propolis he needed.”

  “But not as powerful.”

  “Well, I have my own theory.”

  “Hold that thought; here comes the pizza.”

  Sam saw the delivery guy park his bicycle in front of the Victorian. “What’s he doing?”

  The kid was heading over toward the Mercedes.

  “Wait a minute. You’ll see.” Max flashed him a wink.

  They watched as the driver slowly rolled down the window, but the face of the driver was obscured by the pizza box. But for a split second, when Gianni stepped away, Max caught a glimpse causing her to grab her chest. It’s not possible. She tried to hide any further reaction even though the virtual punch to the solar plexus made it awkward to breathe.

  Sam could not help but notice the color drain from her face. “Max, are you okay?”

  Without responding, she jumped up and went over to open the front door.

  “Hey, Max.” Gianni handed her the large pizza, and the receipt folded in half—something he had never done before. Usually, it was taped to the top of the box.

  “The guy said thanks.” Gianni flashed a smile.

  As soon as Max handed him his tip, he turned and bounded back down the steps, calling out “Thank you!” Then, he hopped back on his bicycle and sped away.

  “Let me take this into the kitchen,” she said as she breezed by. When out of eyesight, she clutched her chest again. Once she was able to expel the pent-up air in her lungs, she unfolded the receipt. Seconds later, she hustled into her office and grabbed her coat and bag. “Sam, there’s something I forgot to take care of,” she called out. “I won’t be long.”

  “I thought you were hungry? And what’s with the other pizza?”

  Her movements were so swift, his questions barely touched her ears as she passed by him again and walked out the front door without responding.

  Sam looked back out the window and watched Max descend the steps to the sidewalk. Then he looked across the street—the car was gone. Suddenly, his apprehension about the case was growing; it did not help that Max’s behavior was becoming more erratic. But while his concern lingered, the smell of pepperoni pizza wafted from the kitchen, replacing his immediate worry. Maybe she just had to run an errand like she said, he thought.

  Chapter 23

  Not A Walk In The Park

  Max pulled out the receipt from her coat pocket and read the note again: Meet me in the park — you know where. It can’t be him. Why did he come back? An eerie sensation festered inside her, but it only fed her voracious curiosity. She walked down the sidewalk with calculated steps and hovered near the buildings, careful to stay out of Sam’s eyeshot, should he still be leering out the window. Then, when she thought the coast was clear, she crossed the street and walked into Lincoln Park. As she wended her way toward the park bench, the same bench where Senator Sherman Spark’s corpse had lain months earlier, she questioned, And why this spot? The location of her first case. She also hoped this was a sick joke and that her eyes had deceived her. The driver inside the black Mercedes can’t be Daniel. As she approached, she saw a man seated on the bench, with his back toward her. She clutched her bag tighter against her side and felt the outline of the Sig Sauer.

  When he heard her footsteps, he turned slightly in her direction.

  “Jesus Christ—it’s really you.”

  “Hello, Claudia.”

  “Don’t call me that!—she’s dead!” Max shook her head trying to rid the vision of Daniel seated before her; it was to no avail. “What are you doing here?”

  “Maybe to make amends. Hey, sis, I was only doing my job. All you had to do was surrender the USB drive, the one with the scientists’ revelations.”

  “But why kill Noble?”

  “He was true to his name. Sure, he aligned with our mission and converted to what the Consortium was trying to accomplish. But he also understood to what extent we would go to protect the director. In essence, he knew too much; he had to go. And besides—he was going to kill you, dear sister.”

  “And now you’ve come to kill me? This is a surrealistic nightmare.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. You can walk away.” Daniel remained silent and continued to stare, marveling at how his younger sister had developed into a beautiful, and extremely formidable, woman—so formidable that the Consortium considered her a major threat.

  For some unforeseen reason, Max started to let go of her anger briefly, as she remembered her older brother in earlier times. Until flashbacks of that horrible night reappeared. Daniel and her father arguing. The sound of a gunshot. Her father lying dead. Bombarded with visions, she overlooked the significance of the bench and sat next to him.

  “The Consortium killed our father—and now you kill for them,” she stated with unexpected calm. “Daniel, what happened to you?” She desperately wanted to understand.

  “You got lucky, kid. They threw you into foster care. For me, the CIA decided I’d be more viable as a trained assassin. But one day I had an epiphany and went rogue. Years later, the Consortium recruited me. So, I guess you could say my fate changed.” Daniel smirked.

  “You still kill people.” The sense of unease returned.

  “But now it’s for a just cause. The members of the Consortium comprise many of the world’s richest and most powerful people, who believe they will better serve humanity for the next millennia.”

  “I fail to see how killing is just! Whatever your lofty motives.”

  “We recognize the inefficiency of the world’s governments when dealing with society’s most urgent issues. We’ve lost faith in those governments. And having both the means and the motivation to seize the power, the Consortium took it into their own hands to advance our cause.”

  “Under whose authority?”

  “Whose authority? God’s! If we don’t protect our world resources and control our exploding population, our future will be bleak. Billions of people will be born into poverty. We’ll murder each other in a war for water, food and oil! Controlling the world’s population by allocating resources is our only hope.”

  “So, their answer is to murder in advance those who threaten this so-called utopia, which they believe they’re building?” Max’s grave doubts resonated.

  “We’re talking about the survival of humanity. In that context, none of us individually are more important than the mission. Noble missed that fine point.”

  “Christ, Daniel! All these years, I thought you might have killed Dad, only to learn that you work for the same people who murdered him.”

  “It’s a rather sardonic twist that destiny handed us.”

  “So now wha
t?”

  Daniel changed his tone again, this time remembering his purpose. “We are sitting on this park bench to remind you how close you came to be being killed again. L may have screwed up, but as you can see for yourself, there is an endless supply of assassins where he came from. And now you’re getting yourself into a whole heap of new trouble.”

  Max had a sudden flashback of Jax in the alley behind The Bachelor’s Mill, standing over the body of the deadly assassin L. She suddenly felt ashamed that she ever considered Jax a suspect. Her ire returned. “How the hell do you know…”

  Daniel cut her off. “Your luck will run out if you don’t back off this case.” He pulled the brim of his cap down farther on his forehead and placed his hands in his pockets. He looked straight ahead. It was obvious he had no intention of giving her an answer.

  “That sounds like a threat.” But could Daniel have killed L to save my life? Did he kill Noble to save me as well? Even with her lingering thoughts, she knew she would pry nothing more out of him for the moment. She would have to wait for another encounter. “How do I get in touch with you?”

  “You don’t. I’ll contact you. But in what terms is in your hands.” Daniel leaned over to give her an unexpected kiss on the cheek. Then stood up and walked away.

  Max shuddered as she watched him disappear from the gravel path. The vision of Miss Ellie running her finger along the side of her cheek entered her mind, leaving her momentarily paralyzed. Then in a baffling moment, the sun peeked through the trees for a split second, long enough to illuminate the left side of Daniel’s face. “Oh, thank God; there’s no scar.” She was relieved and thankful for the quick flash of light.