by Joyce Lavene
“We think someone was in the house with her. Maybe she fell down, and the person took the cane and put it in the chair. It’s just a theory right now. What dragon?”
Peggy pointed to the top of the cane. “There’s a large ivory dragon’s head that belongs on the top of that stick.”
They searched the foyer and the stairs, but there was no sign of it. Mai shook her head. “I don’t know. But I saw some hair and blood on the side of the cane. Maybe the dragon’s head came off when someone hit her with it.”
“Whoever did this might have taken it with her.” Peggy couldn’t help but recall what John always said about the person who found the body.
“If you’re thinking about Ms. Godwin, don’t bother. She was at a Church function last night. But look at this.” Mai moved aside so Peggy could see the chalk outline of where Isabelle’s body had been at the base of the stairs. At the tip of the silhouette of one outstretched hand was a letter. “We think it may be written in her own blood.”
Peggy crouched down carefully beside the startling piece of evidence. Just between the stairs and the Turkish carpet was a thinly traced letter on the dark wood floor. It was clearly a B. Even though the hand that wrote it was shaking, there was no mistaking the intent. “Good God! I can’t believe this is happening.”
Mai put her hand on her shoulder. “I know you’re friends with Beth Lamonte. I don’t know what to say. Maybe the old lady knew what she was talking about when she accused her daughter-in-law of killing her son. And maybe the other Mrs. Lamonte thought she could put an end to the whole thing by trying to make this look like an accident. She didn’t realize the old lady was still alive when she left.”
Peggy carefully got to her feet. She looked down at the circled spot on the carpet. When had Isabelle ever called Beth by her given name? If she referred to her by any name, it was “that woman.” “Beth didn’t do this. I don’t know what’s going on, but someone is setting her up. We have to find out who.”
“I don’t know, Peggy.”
“Why is Cindy Walker here?”
Mai shuffled her paperwork, glancing through it. “She’s listed as an emergency contact after Park. Why?”
“She’s always tried to weasel her way into this family. She had plenty of reasons to hate Beth since she lost Park to her.”
Mai groaned. “I can’t help you this time. Not like last time. Paul really wants this house. I can’t afford to lose my job. You’ll have to let the investigation prove if your friend is guilty or innocent. Then there’s still the trial. Believe me, the system works if you let it.”
“The system also likes to make it simple,” Peggy argued. “If you find even the slightest DNA from Beth here, she’ll be charged. And what are the chances there won’t be a hair or something? She’s only been here when she had to be, but that was still plenty of times. No one can refuse a direct summons from the Dragon Queen. That won’t help her or her sons. There has to be another answer. Who’s responsible for this? And how did they kill Park if his death wasn’t an accident either?”
The sound of the heavy front door opening and closing preceded footsteps and voices coming their way. Mai opened the nearby coat closet and pushed Peggy inside. “Quick! We can’t let anyone see you. Be really quiet. In case I have to leave, wait until everyone’s gone to come out.”
“Will you help me prove Beth didn’t kill Isabelle or Park?”
“That’s blackmail!” Mai hissed. But the voices were getting louder. Al and Jonas were coming toward them. “All right! I’ll do what I can. But I won’t lose my job. Now get inside.”
Peggy smiled at her, then backed into the closet. It was completely black when Mai shut the door. It smelled of moth-balls and musty old clothing. She wondered if Isabelle had used it at all in the last ten years. She stood very still and listened as Jonas, Al, and Mai talked about what they knew about the case so far.
“I guess we’ll be paying the Mrs. Lamonte who’s still alive a visit,” Jonas said. “Good thing Peggy left before she knew. She’d already have the woman hidden away in her house waiting to sneak her out of the city.”
The three chuckled in a way Peggy hoped could be construed as “fondly.” Al said, “She’s not really like that, you know. She got involved in the Warner case because the man was killed in her shop. She wouldn’t necessarily do it again.”
Bless his heart. Peggy tried not to step down too hard on the side of a boot lodged under her foot.
“But you wouldn’t want to stake your pension on that would you, Detective?” Jonas baited him.
“No, sir. I wouldn’t. Peggy gets too emotional, no doubt about it. I just hope she doesn’t get involved this time.”
“I’m sure she won’t. Why would she? I mean, she has enough to do, right?” Mai laughed nervously. She cleared her throat when they looked at her strangely and told them her “theory” about the dragon’s head missing from the cane.
“Al, get a couple of officers in here to help her look for that thing. Go over everything again, Mai. Let me know if you find it. Then get some help to take these things back to the lab,” Jonas told her. “Al and I are headed over to the other Lamonte house. I’ll be glad when this is over. Too many Lamontes.”
Peggy wasn’t sure what to do. She could call Beth and warn her about the police visit. It wouldn’t keep it from happening, but it would prepare her. John would’ve given her a good talking to when she came home if he were still alive. She shouldn’t interfere in police business.
But she was already involved. It wasn’t like she wanted to be there, hiding in Isabelle’s dark closet. First Beth, then Isabelle, and finally Al put her in the picture. There was nothing else to do but follow through. Anything else would be letting her friends down.
“Forgive me, John,” she muttered as she speed-dialed Beth’s home number on her cell phone. She didn’t dare get out of the closet and could only hope no one was standing nearby.
“Hello?” Beth’s voice was strained and tearful.
“There’s no easy way to tell you this,” Peggy began in a quick, quiet whisper. “The police are on their way to your house to ask you questions about Isabelle’s death.”
“How? Why?” Beth sputtered.
Peggy heard the doorbell ring from Beth’s end of the phone. “Did you contact a lawyer yet?”
“I spoke with one of Park’s friends. He isn’t here right now. What should I do?”
“Tell the truth. Just not too much of it. Answer their questions, but don’t offer any extra information. Call Park’s friend.” Peggy tried to think of any other bit of advice. None came to mind. “I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
“Why didn’t you come with them?” Beth asked.
“It’s difficult to explain.” Peggy glanced around the closet. “Just keep your wits about you. The police are serious about this. I’ll explain when I get there.”
Mai opened the closet door just as Peggy got off the phone. “Were you talking to yourself?”
“No.” Peggy held up the cell phone. “Is it safe to come out now?”
“Everyone’s gone. If you go out the back, you should be okay.”
“Thanks. Call me if you find out anything else?”
“As much as I can,” Mai whispered. “Please don’t do anything that would jeopardize either of us.
“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to you later.”
“And thanks for the tip about the dragon’s head!”
“You’re welcome. You might want to ask Alice why she didn’t mention it. Also, in case you didn’t know, Cindy is Park’s ex-wife. That might be something to check into as well.” Peggy waved to her and walked quietly back down the long hall to the kitchen. The grandfather clock ticked loudly in the close atmosphere. The house smelled of mold and decay. The estate would probably sell the place. A family would move in and take care of the old house again. It was hard to imagine laughter ringing through these halls, but she knew it would happen.
She noticed Jonas a
nd Al leaving in Al’s SUV. She began running, cutting through backyards to reach Beth before them.
Sam called her cell phone as she got outside. “I’m at the shop. I thought you’d be here, too,” he said. “I know everything downtown is closed and everyone is home, but you’re usually here anyway.”
“Normally I would be,” she agreed as a thorn on a climbing rose branch caught her jacket as she ran by its trellis. She disengaged it and continued on, waving to an acquaintance as she ran through her backyard. “But everything is crazy, Sam. Beth might be accused of pushing Isabelle down the stairs last night.”
“What? I knew she was having problems with Park’s death because of the old lady, but I can’t believe . . . what happened?”
Peggy explained as she rounded the corner of the street Beth lived on. She stepped in one end of an ornamental pond, camouflaged by fallen leaves. She drew back a wet boot but kept going. “It looks pretty convincing. Isabelle wouldn’t have tried to come down the stairs without her cane. And the B was brilliant. If I didn’t know better, I’d blame Beth, too.”
“What are you doing?” Sam wondered as he listened to her labored breathing. “You sound like you’re running a marathon. Are you really that sure about Beth?”
“Yes. She wouldn’t hurt anyone. But there must be someone who wants to make it look like she did.” She huffed out warm air into the cold morning. “I’m trying to get to Beth’s house before Al and Jonas. It’s a lot easier to run through these yards when there isn’t snow and ice on the ground.”
“Okay. I suppose that means you want to prove Beth is innocent. Maybe we should open a detective agency instead of a garden shop.”
“I don’t think so!” She snorted. “We’ll have to talk later. I’m at her house and Al is pulling in right behind me. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Thanks for being there, Sam.”
“You know me. Always ready to steal a body or break into a funeral home.”
Peggy laughed as she closed her phone. She didn’t have the breath to assure him that those circumstances wouldn’t happen again. She might be able to help Beth in some way but not so directly. She wouldn’t risk so much, even to help her friend. Some of the things she had to do to find Mark Warner’s killer were impossible. She certainly wouldn’t involve Sam, Steve, or Mai as she did last time.
Jonas was getting out of Al’s Ford Explorer that was parked behind an unfamiliar black Hummer as she pushed herself up the sidewalk. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“I’m here to visit my friend,” she replied with as much indignity as she could put into her wispy, breathless voice. Her chest was heaving with exertion. “She lost her husband, you know. She needs support. What brings you here?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know! We’re here on official police business, Peggy. Please don’t try to interfere.” Jonas’s look told her he fully expected her to do it anyway.
“Are you here to notify Beth of Isabelle’s death?” She stalled for more time for her friend.
“No. And that’s all you’re getting out of me. I think you should go home.”
Peggy drew herself up to her full height and faced him fearlessly. “Despite your official business here, the law doesn’t say anything about not being able to visit a friend. If Beth doesn’t want me here while you’re here, she can tell me.”
Jonas opened his mouth to say something else but thought better of it. He turned to Al, “Come on, Detective. We have a job to do.”
The three of them went up to the front door together. Al shook his head when Peggy knocked before Jonas could do it. The door opened slowly to a man dressed casually in jeans and a red flannel shirt. His sharp, inquisitive gray eyes searched the faces at the doorstep. “Can I help you?”
“Yes.” Peggy pushed past Jonas and Al. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Peggy Lee.”
“Of course. Mrs. Lamonte is expecting you. I’m Gary Rusch, Park’s partner.”
8
Gardenia
Botanical: Gardenia jasminoides
Family: Rubiaceae
This sweet-smelling flower was first propagated in China and Japan. It has been used for a perfume source for centuries. The Celtic people believed planting it outside the door would make a loving family in the house. The Wiccans believe it represents peace, love, and spirituality.
“I’M LIEUTENANT RIMER, AND this is Detective Al McDonald. We’re from the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department. We’re here to see Mrs. Lamonte about the death of her mother-in-law.”
Gary Rusch’s charming smile didn’t falter. “Come right this way, gentlemen.”
But while Peggy went into the sitting room with Beth, Al and Jonas were detained in the hall by the lawyer.
Peggy shut the door to the hall. “I got here as fast as I could. I thought you didn’t have an attorney here yet.”
“Actually, I left a message on the firm’s voice mail yesterday.” Beth shrugged. “Gary showed up this morning right when you called. I feel like the woman tied on the train track and the cowboy on the white horse rides up in the nick of time.”
Peggy sat beside her and held her hands. “How are you? How are the boys doing?”
“We’re all right. It was such a shock to hear about Isabelle. I think she probably killed herself. She was so damn daunting. But she couldn’t live without Park. He was that important to her.”
“I don’t know if your lawyer can keep the police from talking to you. They’re going to want some answers, Beth. If not now, then later. Where were you last night before ten?”
“Here, I suppose. I really haven’t gone out much the last few days. Everything was closed by that time because of the snow. I can’t believe the police think I would hurt Isabelle. What would I gain by her death?”
“It’s only questions right now.” Peggy squeezed her friend’s hand as the lawyer led the two officers into the quiet, comfortable room. “Just do what the lawyer tells you. Don’t embellish!”
“Mrs. Lamonte.” Jonas glanced at Peggy impatiently. “I’m Lieutenant Rimer, CMPD. You already know Detective McDonald. And I suppose since she’s here, you know why we’re here.”
“Yes. And I didn’t push Isabelle down the stairs.”
Gary put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t feel like you have to say anything, Beth. These men are here to ask you some questions. You can answer them, if you like. Or not.”
Al and Jonas sat down awkwardly in the tiny room. Peggy knew it was Beth’s favorite place in the house. The small fireplace was surrounded by brightly colored enamel tiles that created a mural using the fire in the grate as the sun in the sunset scene. The four chairs were in shades of orange, and the burnt orange Shirvan kilim rug on the wood floor enhanced the warm images.
“We appreciate your cooperation, Mrs. Lamonte. Let’s start by asking where you were last night between six and ten p.m., Mrs. Lamonte?” Al asked as he shifted uncomfortably in the small chair.
“I was here. I think I was resting after dinner. My housekeeper, Alice Godwin, was here with the children until nine. Then I got up and put them to bed.”
“So you were in your bedroom the whole time?” Jonas suggested. “Did you talk to your housekeeper or your children during that time? Did they see you?”
“No, I don’t think so. I was exhausted, as I’m sure you can appreciate, Lieutenant. I was in my room with the door closed the whole time. The kids can get pretty loud playing games.”
Al and Jonas exchanged meaningful glances. It reminded Peggy so much of Sergeant Joe Friday and Officer Bill Gannon from Dragnet that she almost laughed. She controlled the smile she hid behind her hand and focused on what was happening.
“Well, one thing Peggy couldn’t tell you, since we managed to keep her out of the crime scene,” Al explained, “is that your mother-in-law managed to write a single letter in her own blood before she died. It was clearly a B.”
“That doesn’t mean I did anything. In the ten years I knew her, Isabelle nev
er called me Beth. You can ask anyone. She always called me Elizabeth. She was very formal. But I’m sure there are plenty of people with B as an initial. I was home all night last night. I didn’t hurt Isabelle.”
Jonas got to his feet and paced the tiny room like a caged cat. “Come on, Mrs. Lamonte. You expect us to believe you weren’t angry at your mother-in-law’s accusation about your husband’s death? She said you killed him. We know she accused you to your face right in your home, in front of your friends. That must have made you upset. Maybe you didn’t mean to hurt her when you went over there. Maybe you just wanted to shut her up and things got out of hand.”
“Isabelle Lamonte meant her accusation metaphorically, Lieutenant, I’m sure,” Gary intervened. “Mrs. Lamonte and my client didn’t get along well, not an unusual relationship in families. When she said my client killed her husband, she meant in the sense that she wasn’t good enough for him. But anyone who knew Isabelle knew how she felt about the relationship. It wasn’t a secret.”
“That’s not the impression we were under, Mr. Rusch,” Jonas said. “Isabelle Lamonte was explicit. She believed your client actively killed Mr. Lamonte for the ten million dollar life insurance policy. She told us that her daughter-in-law actually killed her son. There was nothing metaphoric about it.”
“Not that it matters, Lieutenant. As my client told you,” Gary reiterated, “she was here with the children all evening. I think that’s about all we have to say on the matter.”
Jonas glared at Beth, clearly not satisfied. “I hope you’ll advise your client to work with us, sir. This isn’t over yet. We’re conducting a more in-depth autopsy on Mr. Lamonte and checking out the car again as well as continuing the investigation into what happened to Isabelle Lamonte. If we find anything out of the ordinary, we’ll be back. Maybe with an arrest warrant. And we want to talk with your housekeeper. I need her name and address.”