THE HERBALIST (Books 1-5)

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THE HERBALIST (Books 1-5) Page 9

by Leslie Leigh


  Nash nodded.

  “He’s not going anywhere,” his uncle said, tugging on Nash’s sleeve.

  “Except home,” Nash smiled, walking toward his uncle’s truck. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to panic.” He lowered his voice and looked at Melissa. “Having people who care makes all the difference. I know that you and your detective will find out what really happened to Lauryl.”

  Melissa nodded. She wished she felt as confident about it as he did.

  “Nash, let me ask you something,” Melissa said. “How close are you and Cindy?”

  He shrugged. “Not as close as she’d like to be. I think she was always jealous of Lauryl because I was closer to Cindy’s age. She also thought, because she told me so several times, that she didn’t think Lauryl took good enough care of me.” He shook his head. “She didn’t understand our relationship at all. She only saw what she wanted to see.”

  Melissa nodded. “Thanks, Nash. I’ll be in touch.”

  She climbed back into the SUV, relating her conversation with Nash.

  “It’s not looking good for Cindy at all right now.”

  “No, it’s not,” Melissa agreed.

  “So, do you think she planted the weed?”

  Melissa mused. “Again, why? I can see doing it out of spite or jealousy, but that’s where this whole thing goes wrong. If she killed Lauryl thinking she could have Nash, then why turn around and set him up to be arrested.”

  “Maybe she came on to him after Lauryl’s death, and he spurned her? Do you think he could be protecting her?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, if not for attraction, how about out of some misguided loyalty to Lauryl?”

  “I will have to think about that,” she said. “But I think it’s time we had a further talk with her.”

  Chapter 17

  “Nothing on the towel,” Brian announced by phone the next morning. “How long did Dr. Mercer think it would take to get word back from the CDC?”

  “He asked them to put a rush on it, but they told him it could take up to two weeks once they get the sample.”

  “Were you able to get hold of Cindy?”

  “She hasn’t returned my calls yet. I know she has classes this morning.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll hear from her by this afternoon.”

  “I hope so. If not, maybe I’ll just have to make a special invitation for her.”

  “Ooh, can I get a special invitation?” Brian asked, mischievously.

  Melissa didn’t know what to say for a second, and he caught the hesitation.

  “Okay, then, let me give you one. I’m going to have to go back to Phoenix tomorrow, to catch up on a couple more cases, then I’ll be back. But I’d like to take you out for dinner this evening.”

  “I’d like that,” she said.

  “Good. I used my techno-device and made reservations at Café Roka in Bisbee. Are you up for that?”

  “I love Bisbee, and it’s a delightful place for dinner. What time?”

  “How about I pick you up at 6? And shop talk will be optional.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Melissa laughed.

  The fact that Brian had made it a specific invitation, rather than masking it as a strategy in their investigation, surprised her. She had thought him quite charming from the beginning. She found his Irish good looks quite pleasing to the eye, but she had not contemplated anything beyond a cooperative working relationship.

  Perhaps she was making too much of it. Yes, now she was quite certain that she was, but it was flattering to think he might find her attractive as well, attractive enough for a dinner date, anyway. It would be nice to have some casual male companionship. Catalonia seemed to have its share of young men fresh out of high school, and family or retired men—but virile young men didn’t seem to stay long once they became independent. Perhaps that would explain the widespread jealousy over Nash among the female townsfolk.

  Brian had never been to Bisbee before, so she wanted to show him a bit of the town. She showed him The Copper Queen Hotel, which was one of her favorite spots with its Copper Baron history, and its authentic décor, including the early twentieth century switchboard which was displayed in the lobby.

  They had a drink on the patio before wandering across the street to the Copper Queen Plaza. After they browsed their way through the shops, Melissa needed to run upstairs to the ladies’ room.

  She was surprised when she opened the door and Cindy stood there washing her hands.

  “Hey, Cindy,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Did you get my messages?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been running around all day and hadn’t had time to call back.”

  “I’d love it if you’d come over for tea sometime this week,” Melissa said.

  “At the market?”

  “No, at my house.”

  “Oh. Don’t you have to work?”

  “I can take time. I just wanted to talk to you some about your Aunt Lauryl and see how you’re doing.”

  “I’m okay. I’ll be better when we can bring her back for the memorial service.”

  “I understand. What if I plan to cater some food for it?”

  “Oh, I can’t really afford that.”

  “I know. I don’t mind doing it for you at no charge.”

  Cindy looked at her as though she wanted nothing more than to escape, and could no longer think of a response.

  “Well, you just think about it and let me know.”

  “Okay. Yeah. Thanks,” Cindy said, pushing through the door as quickly as she could.

  Melissa rejoined Brian who was looking at some of the vendor displays in the main entry of the Plaza.

  “Did you see Cindy come by here?”

  “Yeah. She went into the restaurant. I waved to her, but she just looked spooked and hurried in.”

  “She gave me the same ‘spooked’ routine. I wonder what’s up?”

  Melissa realized that it was rude, but she wanted to know who Cindy was with.

  “Follow me,” Melissa said, “I want to check something out.”

  They walked into the restaurant entrance as if they wanted to be seated. Melissa looked quickly out over the diners, hoping Cindy wasn’t sitting on the other side where she wouldn’t be able to see.

  “Upper right, two o’clock,” Brian whispered into her ear.

  Melissa swung her gaze to where he had suggested, and saw Cindy sitting in a booth with Rhianna Kendrick.

  The maitre‘dwas headed back to seat them, so Melissa and Brian ducked out quickly, hoping that Cindy and company hadn’t seen them.

  They walked back out onto the street and headed up Main Street to the charming blend of old and new that was Café Roka.

  Melissa felt a bit embarrassed by the romantic atmosphere, although she didn’t know why she should. After all, he had invited her, and he had picked the restaurant, so surely he knew what he was doing.

  “Have you been here before?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes, lots of times.”

  “So what do you recommend? What’s your favorite dish?”

  She laughed. “They change up the menu every week,” she said. “I could tell you of some delectable dishes I’ve had here, but it wouldn’t necessarily be what they’re serving tonight.”

  “Oh,” he said.

  “But I can tell you that I’ve never had anything that wasn’t absolutely amazing.”

  “That’s quite a recommendation,” he said.

  After they had ordered, he asked, “So, did you recognize the woman that Cindy was with?”

  Melissa nodded, “Rhianna Kendrick. It struck me as kind of odd. Rhianna was talking to Lauryl outside my store the last time I saw her. I didn’t even know they knew each other.”

  “Is it that odd in a town the size of Catalonia?”

  “I guess not, but Rhianna tends to be a loner. I’m not sure why she lives in Catalonia because most of her socializing seems to be in Tucson.”

  “Isn’t it poss
ible that the three of them struck up a friendship?”

  “I guess so, but ‘friendly’ is not a word that I associate with Rhianna,” she said.

  The server brought them two appetizer plates, one of blue mussels in wine sauce, and one of stuffed grape leaves.

  “Dolmades,” Melissa said, indicating the grape leaves. “That’s the Greek name for them.”

  “Did you go to a medical college, or culinary school,” he asked, teasingly.

  “One arises from the other. My mother always taught me the value of my health and how what I eat is ninety percent of it.”

  “I can see that. So you’re big on the Mediterranean Diet?”

  “I don’t follow the Mediterranean Diet, per se,” she said. “They do it right, but it’s as much about how they eat and their entire lifestyle as it is what they eat.”

  “Hmmm…what does all that mean?” he asked.

  “It means that Americans can eat a Mediterranean diet all they want, but if they’re over-consuming and over-stressing, it’s not going to do them much good.”

  “Which is why you live in Catalonia.”

  “That’s a big part of it.”

  “Hmmm…maybe it would do me good to spend more time down here. I’m really enjoying that B&B,” he said.

  Melissa just smiled at him, not sure where he was going with that comment and not sure how to respond.

  “Maybe it would,” she said at last.

  *

  After devouring a generous portion of wild Alaskan salmon prepared in the most exquisite way she could imagine, while Brian braved a New Zealand rack of lamb, he insisted they share dessert.

  She had always wanted to try making a flourless torte herself, so getting to experience the flourless chocolate cake with raspberry sauce, vanilla ice cream, and to-die-for chocolate truffles was a real treat. Although she would hardly call it just “chocolate cake”—it deserved a much more elegant name.

  Brian’s eyes sparkled and his dimples made frequent appearances as he smiled throughout the evening. Good food and good conversation, but since he was leaving tomorrow, it couldn’t end without another brief discussion of the case.

  “I’ve tried to sort this out over dinner,” she said. “I’m trying to separate my personal feelings about Rhianna Kendrick from what I actually have observed of her.”

  “I’m hurt,” he said, tongue-in-cheek, “I thought I was the only one on your mind this evening.”

  “Women don’t compartmentalize,” she said, beaming at him. It had been a long time since anyone had shown this much interest in her.

  “Touché,” he said.

  “It’s nice to share an evening with a lady sleuth,” he said.

  She laughed. “Lady sleuth?”

  “Of course, it’s what you do every day, isn’t it?”

  She shook her head. “No, and I’m glad I don’t. It would make me crazy, I’m afraid.”

  “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” he said.

  “You told me quite a bit about Lauryl’s health, things I’m sure she didn’t tell you.”

  “No, they were just things I could tell.”

  “Tell how?”

  “Well…hmm…that would take me a while to be able to articulate how I know what I know.”

  “Ah. You are correct. It’s like what Steve Jobs said about creativity. When you ask a creative person how they know something, they give you this deer-in-the-headlights look because they just know. If they worked really hard they could reconstruct some of the analysis, but the majority of it is making connections and from connections, leaps.”

  “I think you just gave me the answer I’ve been puzzling out all evening, then.”

  He looked at her quizzically.

  “For your benefit, I’ve been trying to reason out my feelings about Rhianna Kendrick, and why her association with Cindy bothers me. But I can’t. It’s just a gut feeling. That’s all. I’ve separated out what other people have told me about her and just concentrated on my own observations and connections.”

  “And your conclusion? The envelope, please.”

  She laughed easily with him which felt good.

  She shrugged. “It bugs me.”

  It was his turn to laugh. “How terribly scientific of you.”

  “I know, huh?” she grinned.

  “So how do we follow up on ‘it bugs me’?”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “I have no doubt that you will,” he said.

  They concluded the evening with him walking her to her door when they arrived back in Catalonia.

  “So, we’re waiting for the CDC determination, Nash’s hearing once the defender has all of the evidence, and whatever you figure out about Rhianna and Cindy.”

  Melissa nodded. “It’s easier to prove that he had nothing to do with her death than to prove anything about the marijuana.”

  “Despite his uncle being a great character witness,” Brian said, "it's going to be pretty tough to beat that, possession being nine-tenths of the law and all that.”

  Melissa started at that. Those were the exact words she had used when Cindy had told her that Nash wanted entry to the house. She had practically given Cindy the path to frame him, if it was, indeed, Cindy. But it had to be, didn’t it? Nash hadn’t known about it and Cindy had.

  She didn’t say anything further about it to Brian, but she bid him goodnight and a safe trip back to Phoenix. He took her arm and looked as though he was thinking about kissing her, but he slid his hand down to hers, and shook it in an affectionate manner.

  “I’ll see you in a few days. Let me know if you have any breakthroughs.”

  “Of course!” she said, unlocking the door to her house.

  She smiled at that. Locking her door had become a habit in Seattle, but one that was hardly necessary here.

  She wasn’t going to be able to sleep until some of her dinner was digested, so she got online to see what she could find. She went to the Native Seed Search site because Cindy had said that was where the beans had come from.

  When she clicked on the beans link under food, all sorts of colorful beans came up. There were varieties that looked somewhat like castor beans, but of course, since castor beans are not native to the Southwest, Native Seed Search didn’t carry them.

  That gave Melissa pause. Cindy was a sweet girl and bright, but if the plan Melissa was thinking of was right, Cindy just didn’t have the deceptive genius to pull it off. She might be jealous, which could make her angry, and perhaps malicious, but she just couldn’t see Cindy having what it took to think this up.

  It was almost as if the plan were made to deceive Cindy. Melissa figured that someone had given Cindy a package of mixed beans to use to make the bean soup Lauryl loved. Cindy thought she was getting a package of Native Seed Search beans, but what she had gotten was Native Seeds mixed with castor beans. It wouldn’t have taken many. One might even have been enough to kill Lauryl as thin was she was.

  Melissa pulled up Google and put in ‘buy castor beans.’ She drew in her breath sharply when she realized how easy they were to get. The growers were smart enough to package them with only six or seven beans, but that’s all it would take.

  She knew that was how it was done. The CDC could confirm it, but she knew. The next thought she didn’t want to give birth to, but it was inevitable. Rhianna had given them to her. Rhianna did have that devious genius. Melissa sighed.

  Now all she needed to know was how to prove it, and, if at all possible, why. That was the biggest mystery of all.

  Adding Rhianna to the equation made the marijuana stash puzzle almost solvable. She needed to sleep on it and allow her subconscious to unravel it.

  *

  The next morning, when Flora came in, Melissa shared her theory with her.

  “It sounds entirely plausible,” Flora said. “I’ve never liked that woman.”

  “I’ve tried to keep my feelings out of it,” Melissa said, “but it’s tough. We already know
she’s given to jealousy because of the way she acts when she comes in here.”

  “Well, you know what Heinlein said about it: ‘Jealousy is invariably a symptom of neurotic insecurity.’”

  “Why, Flora. Quoting Heinlein. I didn’t know you were a sci-fi fan.”

  “Oh, my dear, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

  “Apparently.”

  “My next question would be as to whether a jealous person can inspire someone to be jealous.”

  “I definitely think so. You know what they say: “Miserable being finds more miserable being, then eez happy.”

  Flora gave her a funny look. “Who said that?”

  Melissa shrugged. “One of the pound dogs in Disney’s Lady and the Tramp.”

  They both broke into raucous laughter.

  “But that’s my point exactly, a jealous person can take an impressionable person, especially a young, impressionable person, and infect them with their own jealousy, causing the other person to feel slighted.”

  “I think I followed that,” Flora said, “I get your drift anyway.”

  “Now, if I could only figure out what Rhianna had to be jealous about as far as Cindy, or especially Lauryl, was concerned.”

  “Do you think it has anything to do with Nash?”

  “Hmm. I don’t know. That seems too obvious. And Rhianna is ten years older than Lauryl.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. Women have mid-life crises, too.”

  Melissa decided she would ask Nash. She took a break and called him midmorning.

  After exchanging pleasantries and getting a sense that he was doing okay for the time being, she broached the subject.

  “Nash, has Rhianna Kendrick ever expressed any interest in you or you in her?”

  “Hell, no. That old witch?”

  Melissa had to bite her tongue to stifle a laugh. “Do you know if she was friends with Lauryl and Cindy?”

  “Well, now that you say it, Lauryl mentioned a couple of times that Rhianna was making social calls, sort of.”

  “Social calls?”

  “Well, she kept asking Lauryl over to lunch or out for coffee, but I don’t think Lauryl ever took her up on it.”

 

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