THE HERBALIST (Books 1-5)

by Leslie Leigh

  “Did you see the woman after that?”

  He shook his head. “The house was totally dark. I didn’t see nothin’ else over there till I saw her niece go in the next morning.”

  “Thank you. Thank you very much, Mr. Dryden. You’ve been a great help.”

  “No problem,” he said. “You’re sure nobody’s on about that scuffle in Texas?”

  “Don’t think so, Mr. Dryden, although I can’t say for sure.”

  “Okay, then.”

  Melissa put her hand on the man’s shoulder as he turned back toward the TV.

  “Don’t get up, Mr. Dryden. We can find our way out.”

  “Wasn’t gonna. You seem smart enough to figure out how to walk across a room.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Dryden.”

  “No problem,” he said.

  “So, they came back just before 11 and he was gone by 11:30, with a white laundry bag full of something,” Melissa recapped.

  “It’s a start.

  As they separated for the evening, Melissa asked, “Surely you’re not driving back to Phoenix, Detective.”

  “No,” he said, “I’m staying in a little B&B just off Main Street. Oh, and please call me Brian.”

  “All right then, Brian. At the Taylor house at 6:30?”

  Chapter 11

  The next morning, as the sun peeped over the horizon, Melissa and Brian were in Lauryl’s backyard, slipping into the kitchen door. Luckily for them, no crime tape had been put over the back door, only around the perimeter and the front door.

  It was light in the kitchen, but the curtains and blinds had been drawn throughout the rest of the house.

  “Where does your gut tell you we should start?” he asked.

  “After the conversation with Mr. Dryden last night, I’d like to see how likely it was that the bundle Nash was carrying out was his laundry.”

  “What do you suspect it might have been?”

  “Since you’re the one with the gloves, follow me, and I’ll show you.”

  She led him down the hall to the second bedroom which had been Lauryl’s studio. On the far side of the room stood a large armoire. She indicated that Brian should open it. Dozens of empty hooks covered the back and doors of the cabinet. Only one piece hung on a hook, an exquisite bracelet with malachite and lapis stones, each in its own silver setting.

  Melissa gestured for him to open slim drawers, all of which were empty save one which contained assorted hooks and clasps. Melissa was crestfallen, giving a little cry.

  “Oh, I had so hoped this was not the case,” she said.

  Brian looked at her questioningly.

  “This is where she kept all of the custom jewelry pieces she had completed. She kept them in here between fairs and shows. The drawers were full of silver and gems.”

  “The fare in the laundry bag.”

  “I’m afraid so,” Melissa said.

  She stood thinking for a moment. “Brian, help me look for a guitar case.”

  “All right,” he said.

  The house was small, so it didn’t take long. There was no sign of the guitar case.

  “This is not good,” she said. “Either Cindy is not telling me the truth, or, worse, Nash came in and got the guitar case.”

  “Something else he might have stolen?” Brian asked.

  “No,” Melissa said, chuckling. Then she put her hand over her mouth to help her stop laughing. “I guess it’s not funny because it spells a lot of trouble for Nash in more ways than one—it contains a stash of marijuana which, if the Sheriff’s department catches him with it, well…I guess I don’t have to tell you how much trouble he could be in.”

  “So you think he killed her for the jewelry?”

  “It sounds like a possible motive. He called Cindy to ask her when he could get the guitar case…” She paused for a moment, “Although, when I think of the look on Cindy’s face when she told me that, it makes me wonder if she was telling the truth.”

  “What motive would she have to lie about it?”

  “At least two that I can think of—one, that the guitar case, or the weed stash, could have been Cindy’s, or two, and this I hate to even say, they could be working together.”

  “I marvel at your ability to remain neutral.”

  “Neutral? What do you mean?”

  “Normally, I would be the one coming up with these hunches, if I had all the facts. Yet you know these two people and don’t seem to have a problem admitting they might be working together.”

  “I don’t really know Nash. I know Cindy better, and she’s a sweet girl. That doesn’t mean she’s not involved.”

  “Now you understand why the sheriff’s department might be looking at you.”

  Melissa whipped her head toward him. “Except that I have no motive.”

  “At least not one that anyone has discovered. What would be Nash and Cindy’s motive?”

  She looked at him. Was he investigating her, too?

  “Nash was fifteen years younger than Lauryl. Perhaps he and Cindy fell for each other, and he thought they needed money to run away together?”

  “A bit far-fetched perhaps. It’s not like it would take much for them to just disappear in Tucson or Phoenix.”

  “True. Had I told you about the loan?”

  “You told me what the bank employee had said. How is this related?”

  “If Lauryl tried to get money for Nash and was unable to, was he disgruntled and decided to take what he could?”

  “If he did that, why would he still be hanging around?”

  “I don’t know,” said Melissa. “To try not to look guilty?”

  She held up her cell phone to check the time. Seven o’clock. Catalonia would be waking up.

  “We need to go soon.”

  “Is this all we came for?” he asked.

  “Isn’t it enough, right now?”

  “I think we’re forgetting one big thing. There was no sign of trauma of any kind. Whatever killed her was unnatural, yet not showing up. Does Nash strike you as the type to get online and research something like that?” Brian queried.

  “No, but if he and Cindy are working together…wait, I just thought of something else I want to check on. This will not be pleasant, but since you’re the one with the gloves, you have to help me.”

  He nodded and followed her back down the hall to the bathroom.

  “Can you lift the toilet lid, please?”

  He bent and did as she requested, and she bent over the toilet bowl.

  “Just as we suspected. There is vomit residue here.”

  “Okay, so…?” Brian said as he returned the toilet seat to its former position.

  “Let’s get out of here first,” she whispered, already feeling like they were going to be seen or heard.

  He nodded.

  She opened the back door and heard Lauryl’s neighbor to the east out hanging wash and singing to herself.

  “Crap!” she said, stepping back into the kitchen, closing the door silently.

  She furrowed her brow for a moment, and then grinned.

  “Just follow me,” she said, “and try not to be alarmed at what I’m about to do.”

  She opened the door, and they exited. She pulled the door shut behind them and locked the dead bolt. Then she slid out under the crime tape, motioning for him to follow her, and walked up to the fence separating the woman’s yard from Lauryl’s.

  “Hi, Jessie,” Melissa said. “Didn’t want to startle you.”

  “Oh, Melissa, my goodness. No, you didn’t startle me. Who’s your friend?”

  “Jessie, this is Detective Byrne from Phoenix. He’s here to investigate Lauryl’s death.”

  “Oh, my. That poor woman. Investigate? Oh, you don’t suppose…?”

  “No, we don’t, Jessie. It’s just necessary to cover all the angles.”

  “I suppose. Just like they do on ‘Law and Order.’”

  “Just like ‘Law and Order.’”

  “Well, it�
�s nice to meet you Detective. Melissa, you still have those prunes on sale? My Clark needs them something awful.”

  “Yes, they’re still on sale. Good ones, too. C’mon over and get some when you can.”

  “I’ll do that. Toodeloo.”

  They stood between the two houses, out of Jessie’s hearing.

  “I’m going to scoot on down the street. People are used to seeing me pass by at this time of the morning on my way to the shop.”

  “All right. I’m going to cut down that alley back to the B&B and have some breakfast. When can we talk?”

  “I’m going to get both Flora and Vivian to mind the store today. Do you want to come to my house, say 9:30?”

  “That works. Now, can you tell me why you just outed us to the neighborhood?”

  “There’s a big political divide in this county. In this town, I can pretty much tell you who’s on what side. Just as Mr. Dryden didn’t tell the deputies what he saw, she won’t either.”

  “I just hope you’re right.”

  “Trust me.”

  Chapter 12

  Melissa appreciated the momentary normalcy of setting the market up for the day. Flora was loading the bakery case, and Carl was loading bins with his hot-house vegetables. She called Vivian to ask her to come in for the morning, and then snipped and bunched her flowers for the floral displays.

  She looked up just as Rhianna Kendrick was coming through the door.

  “Hi, Rhianna,” Melissa said. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Did you get your order of jojoba oil?” Rhianna asked.

  “I’m sure I did,” she said. “Let me check with Flora. I had actually forgotten about it with all the hubbub of late. Did you want some of it?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Melissa looked in the back and found the gallon-sized pump bottle she had ordered, along with another of Aloe Vera.

  “Do you have your own bottle, or did you want to buy one of mine?”

  “Oh, one of yours is all right, I guess. I hate plastic bottles.”

  “I do, too. I’ve been meaning to replace those bulk oil bottles with blue glass for some time now. Thanks for the reminder,” Melissa said, walking to the bulk shelf which held the massage and body oils. “Would you like me to fill it?”

  “No, I can do it,” she said. “So, by hubbub, I gather you’re talking about Lauryl Taylor’s death.”

  “Yes. It seems like we’re having a hard time getting back to normal.”

  Rhianna looked around. “Everything looks pretty normal to me. Is there some reason you’re more involved?”

  Melissa wasn’t quite sure what she meant but she wasn’t about to tell her about any of the investigation, either her own or the one the sheriff’s department was conducting.

  “Maybe it’s just because we’re kind of a central hub for the town. It seems like we hear what everyone is saying.”

  Rhianna rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, Melissa. Your shop is just the center of the universe, isn’t it? So what are people saying about that Evans kid?”

  “Nash? I don’t know, why?”

  “Well, with him in custody and everything…”

  “In custody? What for?”

  She shrugged. “Oh. You didn’t know? They picked him up on a drug charge.”

  Oh, no, Melissa thought. Nine-thirty couldn’t come soon enough.

  *

  Melissa got home a little before 9:30 and the detective was right on time.

  He mentioned that he was thoroughly enjoying Catalonia’s mid-seventies weather. “It’s supposed to hit 90 today in Phoenix.”

  “Ninety, already? A little early, isn’t it?”

  “That, it is. I don’t think it’s supposed to last, but I’m glad to be here for today.”

  He sat down at her kitchen table while she made coffee. He got out a little notebook and pen and set them on the table.

  “Technophobe?” she asked, grinning.

  “You could call it that, but I call it ‘Securophile.’ It’s less likely that someone will be snooping through my pocket than through my computer files.”

  “Really? You’re that worried about it?”

  “Lest you think I’m being overly cautious, how do you think I knew you were being investigated by the sheriff’s department?”

  She looked startled for a second. “Do unto others…”

  “…before they do unto you,” he finished.

  “That seems cynical.”

  “You’ve never lived in a big city, have you?”

  “I was in Seattle for five years, but I will admit that outside of the little complex where I lived, I was pretty much a tourist.”

  “When you’re playing with the big boys, you have to learn to fight dirty. I tend to use the same tactics down here despite the fact that it’s a tiny town in a tiny county. Once you learn effective ways to get your information, you use it. I’m just not silly enough to think they can’t, or won’t, do it right back to me.”

  “So, what are we going to do about Nash Evans?”

  “I was able to verify that he was picked up for marijuana possession with intent to sell. Apparently it was a couple of ounces.”

  “Ouch!”

  “Can they even question him about Lauryl since there’s been no ruling in her death?”

  “That they can, unless or until he lawyers up.”

  “Which he’s unlikely to do.”

  “Do you know who the county defender is?”

  “Yes, and thank God his politics are not the same as the sheriff’s.”

  He sat and looked at her for a minute.

  “Almost sounds like he needs a change of venue.”

  “If it gets that far. There have been one or two times that somebody has submitted for a change but, unfortunately, drug possession is pretty open and shut.”

  “How could he be so dumb?”

  “I’m not sure that it has truly hit him that there might be an investigation surrounding Lauryl’s death, yet now, he will be their prime suspect, "she replied.

  “By reason of possession of marijuana?”

  “Oh, you don’t know what sets off these guys.”

  “Well, one good thing: you’ll be off the hook for a little while.”

  “Why would I be off the hook?”

  “Doesn’t sound like these guys can keep that many balls in the air at once.”

  She laughed. “You might be right. Let’s use that to our advantage before anybody else gets any ideas. Let’s go see if we can find anything out at his uncle’s.”

  Melissa called the market. “Vivian? You know I hate to do this, but I’m probably going to need you to stay most of the day.”

  “It’s okay, Melissa,” she replied. “Miss Ada was just in here in a tizzy because Nash has been arrested. Did you know that?”

  “I did. Is she still there?”

  “No, she left, but there were two or three other people in here at the same time, and now everybody’s abuzz.”

  “Okay. Well, just try to keep it to a dull roar.”

  Vivian laughed. “Will do.”

  Chapter 13

  “He’s being arraigned in the morning, so they’re holding him overnight,” Brian said, after making a phone call.

  “Okay, then, let’s go see his uncle.”

  Melissa had to consult Google maps because the GPS on her Smartphone told her no such address existed. Google maps didn’t go all the way out on the road, but at least she had a vague set of directions and an address. She just had to hope the number would be on the mailbox.

  They went east out of town, and then north through the Santa Ritas. Melissa was glad Brian was driving a small SUV because the clearance would be at least a little higher than her sedan.

  “Wow!” Brian exclaimed. “This is gorgeous country.”

  “It is,” Melissa agreed.

  They came over a rise and the mountainsides were afire with the orange blossoms of the ocotillo.

  “I’ve grown up
with ocotillos,” he said, “but I’ve never seen them like this.”

  “We had really good winter rains this season,” Melissa said, “so the ocotillos are not only blooming, they’re all leafed out. A lot of years, you see the blossoms on top of just the gray spines.”

  “Yeah, that’s the way I usually see them. Or just one or two at a time leafed out. This is impressive seeing hundreds of them at once.”

  “If they don’t have enough moisture, they shed their leaves to protect themselves from water loss. But we had enough rain this year that they ventured back.”

  They had to crawl over the road now, but they did occasionally come to dwellings with mailboxes so they saw they were progressing in the right direction.

  At last they located the uncle’s address and turned up a short lane. There was a long adobe house with what looked to be original timbers. Nash’s motorcycle was sitting in front of it.

  They knocked on the front door, and it was opened by a man probably in his mid-fifties. For some reason, Melissa had expected him to be much older.

  He didn’t say a word upon opening the door, he just stood aside and gestured for them to come in.

  “Hello, Mr. Evans. I’m Melissa Michaels, and this is Detective Byrne from Phoenix.”

  “Michaels. Are you Stan Michaels’ daughter?”

  “Yes.”

  “I remember him. He must be an old cuss by now.”

  “He passed away about ten years ago, Mr. Evans.”

  “Oh, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. Well, come in. Sit down. Can I get you some iced tea or something?”

  “Sure, I wouldn’t mind some,” she responded, looking at Brian, who nodded. “Make that two.”

  She looked around; the house was a far cry from what she had expected. For some reason, she had expected an old house, slump block maybe, in disrepair with refrigerators laying on their side in the yard.

  Instead, she saw an early, authentic adobe house that had been kept in fine repair and well decorated, although the décor was a bit dated.

  “Detective, huh? Are you trying to find out about my nephew?”

  Brian cleared his throat. “Uh, yes, Mr. Evans.”

  They both realized they had come here to search, and hadn’t given a single thought as to how they might be allowed to do that.