The Fragile Flower

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The Fragile Flower Page 11

by Kerry J Charles


  “I’m sure the next exhibit isn’t what brings you here, though,” Dulcie said as she went over to her desk.

  “No, it doesn’t. Can I close the door?” he asked.

  She nodded, trying to ignore her rapidly increasing heartbeat. She inhaled deeply, slowly, uselessly willing herself not to blush.

  Nick sat in the chair opposite her desk. “As you can imagine, it’s about this Logan Dumbarton situation. There’s a possibility that he was poisoned, but not intentionally. Well, it was intentional, but murder wasn’t on the culprit’s mind.”

  “That’s enough to pique anyone’s curiosity. Can you fill me in on a few more details? Such as, who this culprit might be?”

  “Isabel Dumbarton.”

  Dulcie instantly sat back in her chair as though a force had driven her there. “If Isabel did it,” she said firmly, “then it was completely justified.”

  “I don’t follow you.”

  “She had a terrible black eye when I last saw her. It seems our famous artist was also a wife beater.”

  “I agree, that’s reason enough to drive anyone to a pretty drastic act. But here’s the problem. She’s in hiding. We’ve confirmed that much. She’s contacted Willow but won’t tell her where she is. Willow told us that all Isabel would say is that she’s nearby but frightened. Willow has also conveyed, in no uncertain terms, that she does not want to be an intermediary between the police and Isabel Dumbarton any longer. To be honest, I think Willow is scared too, although I don’t know why. Logan Dumbarton is dead. He can’t hurt anyone now.”

  “True. And I can see where this is going. You want me to be the intermediary and talk to Isabel.”

  “Yes,” Nick said simply. “But we’ll have to have Willow call her one more time with you there as well. I’m sure that Isabel won’t answer if the call comes from anyone else’s number.”

  “What about Linda? Certainly she knows Isabel much better.”

  Nick didn’t have a good answer to this question. He was relying on his intuition, and it only failed him on rare occasions. He hoped this wasn’t one of those times. “I have no good reason for saying this, but something tells me that she wouldn’t talk to Linda.”

  Dulcie trusted Nick’s instincts. ‘Although that’s the only thing I trust about him right now,’ she thought unhappily. “Tell me more about the poisoning. What did Isabel do?”

  “This is all secondhand from Willow, so I don’t know exactly. According to her, Isabel said that she didn’t like the way Logan acted when he drank so heavily. She wanted him to stop, so she put turpentine in his gin & tonic to make him sick.”

  “Interesting. I just read about turpentine. Evidently in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, gin was flavored with turpentine instead of juniper berries because the turpentine was cheaper. After a few drinks, he might not have noticed the extra flavor.” Dulcie looked thoughtful. “Here’s what strikes me as odd, though. Turpentine, or its variations, has been used medicinally for a few hundred years. If my understanding of it is correct, it would take an awful lot to kill someone.”

  “We don’t have the autopsy report yet, so we don’t know if that really was what killed him,” Nick said.

  “So Isabel thinks she killed her husband, and she ran off and hid in a panic. Now she’s afraid of the police, and doesn’t know what to do. Never mind the fact that she’s in a foreign country.”

  “Right, and that just complicates everything. So my idea is, I get you together with Willow, she calls Isabel, then hands the phone over to you.”

  “Okay, excellent plan so far, but what exactly do you want me to say?”

  Nick stood and walked back over to the table of botanical prints. “I hadn’t quite worked that out yet.”

  “If we find out whether or not the turpentine killed Logan, wouldn’t that be a better time to talk with Isabel? I could at least tell her something conclusive, and with any luck she won’t be a murderer.”

  “I’m not sure we can take that chance. If the turpentine did kill him, it will definitely be her fault and she may shut down contact altogether. I think it’s better to try to coax her out while there’s still the chance that she’s innocent.” He turned to look at Dulcie. “Could you play that up? The possibility that she’s innocent? Maybe tell her what you just told me: it’d take a lot of turpentine to kill someone.”

  Dulcie was unsure. It was a difficult situation from any angle. She knew Isabel was vulnerable, though. Even if she was guilty, the fact that the death was unintentional and the fact that she was a battered wife would mean leniency from any judge. “All right. Tell me when and where,” she said.

  “How about here, and now. We need to do this as soon as possible. Let me call Willow. I told her we’d check in with her anyway.”

  Dulcie busied herself at her desk while Nick spoke quietly on his cell phone. When he was done, he quickly made another call. Dulcie heard him asking someone else to come to the museum. Now she was concerned.

  “You’re not bringing the entire police force over here are you?” she asked.

  “Nope. That was just Johnson.”

  “Don’t you think he would spook Willow? He can be a little intimidating, you know.”

  Nick smiled. He knew exactly what she meant. “Yes, he can. But oddly enough, he can be the fatherly type when he needs to be. He did that with Willow earlier and it worked very well. She trusts him, more than she trusts me, I think.”

  Trust. That word again. Dulcie didn’t want to think about it.

  Johnson arrived ten minutes later. He handed a report to Nick, and tipped an imaginary hat in greeting to Dulcie. Nick scanned the paper. “Seriously?” he said aloud, glancing at his partner.

  “Yep,” said Johnson.

  “What?” asked Dulcie. “Anything you can tell me?”

  “It seems that the car rented by the Dumbartons, the one that Isabel took off with, was returned to the rental agency. Or rather, it was parked in the lot, then a woman called them and said it was there.”

  “Was it at the airport? Would there be security cameras? Or taxi records of her getting a ride somewhere?”

  “Nope. Unfortunately, it was left at one of their locations in the city, and in the outer section of the lot. They checked their cameras, but the video only shows a woman walking away.”

  “Well that’s frustrating,” Dulcie said.

  Both men glanced up at her simultaneously. They each had the same thought. ‘You have no idea how frustrating this job is!’ Johnson just looked to the heavens while Nick shook his head.

  Rachel appeared in the doorway and tapped on it. “Knock, knock. You have a guest. Or I should say, another guest. This is quite a party in here!“

  “I wish,” quipped Dulcie.

  Rachel stepped back and Willow came into the room. She stopped and glared at Nick and Dulcie. “This is the last thing I do here,” she announced. “I don’t like it, I didn’t do anything, and I really don’t want to see you people again. I’m done with this!”

  “Absolutely,” Johnson said.

  Willow softened a little when she heard him speak. “You just want me to get Isabel on the phone, then I hand it to Dulcie, right?”

  Johnson nodded. Willow pulled out her phone and started to call.

  “Wait!” Dulcie exclaimed. “What do we want Isabel to do? Are we just initiating a conversation? Do I want her to tell me where she is? I haven’t exactly done this kind of thing before,” she said nervously.

  “Ideally, we want as much as we can get. We want her to tell you where she is. We want her to stay there so we can pick her up. Make her feel comfortable. Make her feel like you understand and that she’ll be okay. You want her to trust you,” Nick said.

  Dulcie nearly laughed at his unintentional irony, but she kept her thoughts to herself. She simply nodded.

  Willow dialed. “It’s ringing,” she whispered. Then she said, “Isabel, it’s Willow. I’m glad you answered. Are you okay?”

  She put the
phone on speaker mode. Everyone in the room tried to be as silent as possible. They could barely hear Isabel’s voice. “Yes. I’m fine. Do you know anything more about Logan?”

  “Isabel, I don’t. But I know who does know something. Dulcie Chambers. Is it okay if I have her talk to you? I can’t explain it very well.”

  Silence. They waited.

  “Isabel?” Willow finally said, thinking that she had hung up.

  “I’m here. Yes, I guess I’ll talk to her. When?”

  “Right now. She’s right here. Okay?”

  Again, silence. Nick mouthed ‘Say something!’ to Dulcie.

  “Hey, Isabel, it’s Dulcie. I just wanted to tell you something that I know, and I think you’ll feel a lot better,” she hesitated.

  “Go on,” the small voice said.

  “Isabel, it’s really difficult to kill someone with turpentine, especially to poison them so quickly with it. I know you put it in his drink, but I’m pretty sure that isn’t why he died.” She stopped and held her breath.

  Nothing. Again, they all thought that she had hung up.

  “Do you know for sure?” she finally said.

  “We don’t have the final report on him yet, but I’m pretty certain,” said Dulcie. “Isabel, I know you’re scared, but I have an idea. Why don’t you come stay with me while all of this gets sorted out? Would that make you feel better? You don’t need to go back to that house again if you don’t want to. I can come get you and bring you straight to my house. I live in Portland, very near the museum.”

  Now they heard muffled sobs. Her voice was choked. “Yes!” she managed to squeak in between them. “I’ve been so scared! If you think I’m not in any trouble… I’m scared to be alone!”

  “Isabel, where are you? Where can I meet you?” Dulcie held her breath.

  She hesitated for only a moment. “I’m not far from the house where we were staying. There’s a shed that looked like it was abandoned near the beach. It’s got a metal roof. If you go left on the beach when you come out of the house, you’ll see it farther along.”

  “Don’t move. We’ll be there in twenty minutes!” Dulcie said as calmly as she could. “Do you want me to keep talking to you while I’m on my way?”

  “No,” said Isabel, “my phone battery is dying. I can’t talk long. I should go.” The phone clicked off.

  “Let’s go. Now!” said Nick, already heading for the door.

  “Hey, can I get my phone back?” said Willow.

  “Not yet!” Dulcie cried over her shoulder. “It’s the one number that Isabel knows!”

  “Well in that case,” said Willow. She bolted after them.

  Nick drove as quickly as possible to the house. As the car careened along the road, Dulcie thought, ‘Please let Linda be away. Please let her be away from the house!’ The last thing that they needed right now was another complication. Her pleas went unanswered, however. When they pulled into the driveway, Linda’s car was there.

  Nick sprang out of the driver’s seat and ran around the house. Dulcie was hard on his heels. They ran up the rocky beach, their feet crunching on pebbles. “There it is!” shouted Nick.

  “Wait, let me go first!” Dulcie called from behind him. He slowed.

  Dulcie ran past until she was nearly at the shed. She dropped her speed to a slow jog, then a quick walk. Panting, she reached the shed. “Isabel?” she called. “Isabel, it’s me, Dulcie!”

  Nothing. They heard only the waves crashing, one after another, with agonizing slowness. Then, the door swung open with a loud squeak. Isabel peeked out, took one look at Dulcie, and lunged toward her.

  Nick was beside them in a second. For a moment, he thought that Dulcie might be in danger. Fear could make people do strange things. It could make them lash out at those trying to protect them. But Dulcie simply held on to Isabel tightly as her body wracked with sobs. She began to collapse onto the sand. Nick grabbed Isabel, taking her from Dulcie and holding her up. “You’re safe! You’ll be fine! You’re safe!” Dulcie repeated over and over.

  Linda had heard the commotion and saw all of them running around the house. With heaving breaths she came jogging up just behind Johnson, who was lumbering along as fast as his stumpy legs could move him.

  “Isabel!” Linda gasped. “Where have you been? What on earth…?”

  Nick felt Isabel’s entire body stiffen when she heard Linda’s exclamation. “No!” The voice in his ear didn’t even sound real. It sounded like something that had blown through him from the ocean. “No!” he heard again. It was Isabel. “Don’t let her near me!”

  No one else could have heard her. He held her more tightly. “I won’t,” he said under his breath. He called out to the others, “We need to get her to a doctor! I think she’s dehydrated.” It was the first thing that popped into his head. “Johnson, help me get her to the car!”

  Johnson jumped forward. He had worked with Nick for long enough to tell when he was up to something.

  “No! Put her in the house! It’s much closer! I can get her something to drink!”

  “No ma’am. This lady needs a doctor. We’ll be in touch and let you know her status,” Johnson said, looming over Linda.

  Linda began to protest again, but Johnson gave her his most intimidating look, and she closed her mouth. They reached the car, and Nick put Isabel carefully into the back seat. “I’m going with you!” said Linda firmly.

  Dulcie got in next to Isabel, and Willow quickly jumped in on the other side. “No room!” Dulcie said. Nick had already started the car. Dulcie slammed the door and opened the window. “I’ll call you later,” she told Linda as the car backed out.

  Linda stood by the house gaping at them as the car drove away.

  #

  Nick sat at his desk in the police station pondering a blank computer screen. Johnson sat opposite him doing the same. Neither spoke for several moments. They had just returned from depositing Dulcie and Isabel at Dulcie’s townhouse, then dropping off Willow at her apartment. She had seemed decidedly more confident, so both men assumed that she’d simply been spooked by Logan’s death and Isabel’s strange phone calls.

  Nick realized that he badly wanted coffee. He stood and walked by his partner. “Get me one too?” Johnson asked.

  “How do you know I wasn’t just going to the bathroom?” Nick asked.

  Johnson chuckled but said nothing.

  Nick came back with the Office Swill, as they called it, and plunked one down in front of Johnson. “Much obliged,” he said before sipping it and making a face.

  Officer Thomas Banks scuttled rapidly into the room. “Hey, look you guys! That report you were waiting for! I’ve got it! Wanna see it?” He was waving a piece of paper in the air.

  “Whoa there, Tommy! Don’t burst an artery! Yeah, we’d love to see it!” Johnson said, trying to snatch it out of Tommy’s rapidly moving hand. Nick stood up and calmly took it from him.

  His eyes darted back and forth across the paper. “Well, Isabel Dumbarton is off the hook,” he muttered at last. “Thanks, Tommy,” he said, dismissing him. Tommy remained firmly planted in front of Nick, eyes wide like a puppy.

  Johnson forced a stoic look. “I think we’ll need to go check out that, uh, place that we talked about before, don’t you?” He looked pointedly at Nick.

  Nick caught on immediately. “You’re right. Better get a move on.”

  “Can I come with you guys? I can keep watch if you need me to!” Tommy said hopefully.

  Johnson stood and put a beefy hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “What we really need is somebody to be here at the station in case there’s an update. Can you do that for us?” He looked solemnly at Tommy.

  “Oh yeah! Sure! No problem! Want me to call you if something comes up?”

  “Absolutely, Tommy! That’d be perfect!”

  Tommy was grinning as the two detectives left the station.

  “You know nothing is going to come up,” said Nick.

  “Yeah, but he doesn’
t. He’ll be high on the anticipation for the next two hours. Then his shift’ll be over anyway.”

  Nick shook his head. “I feel bad for the kid. He’ll never make detective.”

  “Hope springs eternal,” said Johnson. He looked at the report that Nick was holding. “So what’s happening?” he asked.

  “Let’s get a real coffee and you can read it,” Nick said. They had been subconsciously following the brick sidewalk toward Roasters since leaving the station. It was their second office.

  Nick handed off the report to his partner who took it and sat in a booth. Johnson didn’t trust the delicate metal chairs at the café tables. Nick came back with two steaming paper cups. He waited for Johnson to finish reading.

  “Huh! Okay, so it looks like it was heart failure. Turpentine wouldn’t cause that. Renal failure, yes, especially for a heavy drinker. But prob’ly not the heart.”

  “Right,” Nick said as he sipped his coffee slowly.

  “So open and shut case. No funny business,” Johnson said, handing him back the paper.

  “Right.” Nick dragged the word out slowly, without much enthusiasm.

  Johnson watched his partner as he stared out the window.

  “That was somewhat less than convincing. You know something I don’t?” Johnson asked.

  Nick put down his coffee. “No. No I don’t. It just doesn’t seem right.”

  “What doesn’t seem right? The wife ran off because she thought she’d poisoned the hubby and killed him. She had a bruiser to justify it. But turns out he died of natural causes. Case closed.”

  “I don’t know,” said Nick. Something was niggling at him. It frustrated him. “Yes, I agree. On the surface it looks pretty straightforward. But something was happening out on the beach when we found Isabel. Something doesn’t sit well with all of this.”

  “Any thoughts as to what exactly this something might be?”

  “Nope. The only thing I can say is that Isabel did not want to see her sister-in-law.”

  “Well I’m sure there’s no love lost there, if I have all my facts straight.”

  Nick nodded. “Just doesn’t feel right though.” He looked at his watch. “Let’s keep this case open for another day or so, just to let everything settle. Nothing else is pressing right now anyway.”

 

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