THE HERBALIST (Books 1-5)

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THE HERBALIST (Books 1-5) Page 35

by Leslie Leigh

“Any cook would kill for a kitchen like that,” she said, as she rejoined Brian in the living room with the tray.

  “Oh, wow,” he said when he saw the bruschetta. “I built the fire while you were slaving in the kitchen,” he said, pointing to the switch beside the gas fireplace.

  They laughed at the sixty-one inch television, but when they discovered the cache of CDs and DVDs, they decided it might be fun. For now, Brian picked out a classical guitar CD.

  “Not to bring up work, but have you talked to your mom’s friend lately?”

  “I don’t even know what to say to her. For all I know, she could be hallucinating the whole thing.”

  “Do you think she is?”

  “Mom says Cheri’s mother doesn’t seem to be concerned.”

  “Yet, you said the symptoms she told your mother exactly matched the foxglove overdose profile.”

  “True. I don’t know what else to do. I’m here now. Both Mom and Cheri have my phone number if they need me. I’ll check in with Mom tomorrow.”

  Brian nodded his head and raised his hand. “I swear I won’t bring it up again.”

  Chapter 8

  Melissa’s phone rang about seven o’clock the next morning, far earlier than she wanted it to. She looked at the phone with one open eye, expecting it to be Flora with a store emergency, and was surprised it was her mother this early.

  “Hey, Mom. You’re up early.”

  “Mr. Hodges passed away this morning, Melissa.”

  “Mr. Hodges?”

  “Cheri’s father.”

  Melissa sat up quickly. “You’re serious? Yes, yes, you are. You wouldn’t joke about something like that.”

  “I haven’t heard from Cheri. I don’t even know whether she knows yet. The neighborhood was awakened early by the ambulance and fire truck. I heard that her mother woke up to find him dead in bed beside her.”

  “Okay, Mom. We’ll be over in a little bit.”

  “Is there anything I need to do?”

  “Just hang tight in case Cheri calls. I’ll try to get her right now, but in case I don’t, you should be available for her call.”

  “All right, dear. See you shortly.”

  She got up and slipped into a robe that had been provided and went out to the kitchen to make coffee. She smiled to see a coffee grinder on the counter. She had her choice between brewed and French press.

  Brian appeared around the corner as he smelled the fresh coffee brewing. “You’re up early,” he said, kissing her good morning.

  “Mom called. Cheri’s mom found her father dead this morning when she woke up.”

  He was silent for a minute. “You don’t seem too upset about it.”

  “Apparently no one is,” she said. “I need to call Cheri. I just hope I’m not the one informing her.”

  Brian took his coffee and went to sit on the deck, as Melissa punched in Cheri’s number.

  “Hello, Melissa,” Cheri answered. “I just made my flight reservations. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

  “Will you call the coroner?”

  Cheri was quiet so long that Melissa thought the call had dropped. “I don’t think so,” she said at last.

  “Can I ask why?”

  Cheri sighed. “I’ve had time to think about it. My dad was not a very nice man. Some things should just be left alone.”

  “But if you have reason to suspect….”

  “I don’t know what I was thinking or what I was hoping for when I told your mom what I did. I should have just kept my mouth shut. He verbally abused my mother and I for over forty years. Let her have a little peace.”

  “I’ll try to get over to talk to your mom today,” she said. “To offer my condolences.”

  “Well, as long as that’s all you’re doing. I look forward to meeting you, Melissa. Your mother is very proud of you and has told me a lot about you.”

  “Thank you,” Melissa said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Melissa ended the call, picking up her own coffee cup and joining Brian on the deck.

  He looked at her. “It’s a beautiful day for you to look as troubled as you do.”

  “Seems I’ve been placed smack in the middle of a moral dilemma.”

  He waited for her to continue.

  “Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you. It seems in this instance that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.”

  “Let me guess. Cheri doesn’t want to request an autopsy.”

  “You got it.”

  “I wonder what made her tell your mom?”

  “Perhaps she was just venting and figured mom would keep it in confidence. Is that a reasonable expectation?”

  “I don’t know? Is it? You know your mother better than I.”

  “I mean from a legal standpoint.”

  “No. Confidence between friends has no legal privilege.”

  “I promised Mom we’d be over in a little bit, and I’d like to visit the widow this morning.”

  “What do you expect to learn?”

  “I want to intuit the woman’s temperament.”

  # # #

  The minute Melissa saw her mother, a lump came to her throat. Why do I allow myself to be too busy to communicate more with her? she asked herself. They hugged, and then Melissa introduced Brian.

  “Brian,” her mother said, patting his hand as she shook it, “it’s so good to meet you. To just see you. Melissa never sends me any pictures.”

  “To be fair, Mrs. Michaelson, I don’t think there are even any pictures of the two of us in existence. You know those shots that are taken on the road, on some scenic stop? I’d have to drag her away from Catalonia to do that.”

  They both laughed, while Melissa shook her head. “Well, you’ve both got me now,” she said.

  “My,” her mother said, looking coyly out of the corner of her eye, “such a handsome young man you have there, Melissa.” Then, turning back to Brian, she added, “And please, call me Cynthia.”

  “All right, Cynthia,” he said.

  There was an instant of awkward silence as they stood in the entry way, then Melissa pushed between them and walked into the living room.

  “Mother! You’ve redecorated,” Melissa said, trying to shake the discomfort of the moment.

  Her mother walked into the living room smiling. “Yes, I redecorated three years ago.”

  “Well, it’s really well-done,” Melissa said, resisting the urge to snark back. “It really is beautiful, Mother. You’ve done a lot with the Southwest décor—you can’t even tell from the inside that it’s a mobile home.”

  “Thanks,” Cynthia said. “I’m pleased with it.”

  “The beehive fireplace is amazing. That’s what really sets it off.”

  “It makes it really cozy in here. The guy I was dating at the time was in construction, so he did most of the work gratis. That made it much more affordable.”

  “Are you dating anyone now?” Melissa asked.

  “I am. He’ll be here for dinner tonight.”

  “Oh. Will he come over when Rob is here? And is Annie coming, too?”

  “She can’t. They’re both arriving Friday. I’m sure you’ll get to meet my friend before that.”

  “Okay, good. I really want to get over to see Cheri’s mother this morning, and we may find ourselves busy after that.”

  Brian sat down beside Melissa on the couch. “Cynthia,” he said, “if I may, why do you think Cheri told you about her suspicions regarding her parents?”

  “It was kind of a strange conversation. We were talking about battered woman syndrome. She was telling me of a woman out where she lives who had been acquitted of manslaughter charges because of the abuse she had been through. Then, she said she wouldn’t be surprised if her mother was poisoning her father. I laughed, thinking she was joking, but then she proceeded to tell me the symptoms her father was experiencing, and I had to agree it was quite odd for a man who had been pretty healthy his whole life. Now, everybody is wondering what the deal is when a man wh
o is the picture of health dies at 75.”

  “What can you tell me about Cheri as a person, Mom?” Melissa asked.

  “Well, you know me, I can talk to anybody. I don’t think she has many friends, so when we kind of hit it off, we both made an effort to stay in touch. But I will tell you that she has no love for the male of the species. She’s pretty caustic-tongued with men, so much so that I made sure she and Gary were miles apart. Not that he can’t handle himself, but I just didn’t see the necessity of exposing him to her vitriol. She can be as nice as pie until a man comes into view or somehow comes up in conversation.”

  “Are you going to come with me to see Mrs. Hodges, Brian?”

  “Don’t you think I’d just be a distraction?” Brian asked. “I think you could tune in to her frequency better if I wasn’t there.”

  Melissa eyed him suspiciously. “Perhaps you’re right. I just feel you need to get everything firsthand.”

  “It might overwhelm her to have two strangers descend on her at once.”

  “Mom, can you see their house from here?”

  “Yes. Just look right through the curtains there at the front window. They’re across the cul-de-sac; it’s tan with a blue door.”

  Melissa looked. “I’m surprised to not see cars in front.”

  “Her pastor was there earlier, and I suspect that some of her church friends will come closer to lunch time with food. Of course, any people from the court would walk.”

  “It seems like a good time to go over, then. Hmm…I should have thought earlier about something to take with me. I hate to go empty handed.”

  “I just baked some lemon butter cookies last night. I’ll give you a dozen of those—I think I even have a little box you can put them in.”

  “Cookies?” Brian asked, smiling.

  “Yes, dear, I’ll make a plate for you, too,” Cynthia said.

  # # #

  Melissa packed up the cookies and set out across the street. She was surprised when no one else was there. She turned back to find a woman at the door with white hair and soft features. “Mrs. Hodges?” she said.

  “Yes, I’m Mrs. Hodges. I’m a widow now. My husband just passed this morning,” she said.

  “Yes, my mother is your neighbor, Cynthia Michaelson. She will come by later, but I wanted to offer you my condolences right away. My mother and I are both friends of Cheri’s,” she lied.

  “Oh, how nice!” Mrs. Hodges said, offering Melissa a chair at the kitchen table.

  “I brought these for you,” Melissa said, offering her the box.

  She sat down at the table and seemed as delighted as a child to open the little box. “Ohh!” she said, sniffing the box. “Lemon! My favorite tea cookie. Can I make us both a cup of tea to go with the cookies?”

  “That would be nice, Mrs. Hodges.”

  “Cheri will be here tomorrow. They took my husband to the funeral parlor, but I told them to wait until Cheri was here to make any decisions.”

  “That was a good idea,” Melissa said, a bit relieved. “It’s always best at times like this to have someone help you with decisions.”

  “Well, not many decisions to make. Mike always wanted to be cremated, so I’ll go along with that.”

  Good, Melissa thought. That meant no embalming.

  “So, had your husband been ill very long?”

  “That man was never sick a day in his life. I guess it was due to my good cooking,” she said, chuckling.

  “Oh, then it must have been quite a surprise to you.”

  “Ah, not really. When you get our age, you know…”

  “Were you the same age, Mrs. Hodges?”

  “No, Mike was five years younger than I was. We were quite the scandal when we met. I was one of the leaders of our youth group at church, and he was one of the youth. I couldn’t resist him, though. He told me I was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Called me up and asked me out on a date.”

  “So, how long were you married?”

  “We just had our fifty-second wedding anniversary.”

  “Fifty second? My!” Melissa said. “Is Cheri your only child?”

  “Yes. Mike was in the Marines, and he got sent to Vietnam shortly after we got married.” She looked sad and shook her head. “He had two tours over there. I wish you could have known him before he went to the war. I wish Cheri could have known him before he went to the war. When he came back, he was an entirely different person.”

  “In what way, Mrs. Hodges?” Melissa asked.

  “Aww…Mike always loved to have fun and make jokes. He was a sweet man and delightful to be around, but when he came back from Vietnam the first time, he was angry and explosive. By the time he came back the second time, it was like he was just a shadow of himself. He just withdrew into himself, and whenever he said anything, it was nearly always unkind.

  It would probably have been better if I hadn’t gotten pregnant, but he didn’t think they would send him back, and I was expecting when he returned to Vietnam for the second tour. She was almost two when he came home, and she was in her terrible twos. He was a stranger to her, and she was this little tantrum-throwing, squealing child. I tried everything I could, but she got so she would scream the minute he came into the room. I was so afraid he would leave us.”

  The doorbell rang just then, and a couple was at the door with a hot dish for her. Melissa was afraid she wasn’t going to get to hear the rest of the story, but the couple just offered their condolences and left.

  When she came back to the table again, she looked at Melissa like she had never seen her before. “Who did you say you were?” she asked.

  “Melissa Michaelson, Cynthia Michaelson’s daughter.”

  “Who’s Cynthia Michaelson?”

  “She’s your neighbor right across the way in the yellow house with the pretty roof.”

  Mrs. Hodges shook her head. “I don’t think I know her. My husband just passed away this morning, so I really can’t offer to fix you lunch.”

  “Oh, no, I didn’t expect lunch. The tea and cookies were nice.”

  “Yes, somebody brought me these cookies, but I don’t remember who. I gave some of them to my husband last night. Oh, dear. You don’t think there’s poison in them, do you?”

  Melissa swallowed and tried to keep her face as neutral as possible. She picked up the plate of cookies and sniffed them. “I really don’t think so, Mrs. Hodges. I ate two just now, and I feel fine.”

  “Well, so did Mike when he went to bed. Oh, he complained that his heart was skipping beats, but that was pretty normal for him.”

  The doorbell rang again, and Melissa stood. “Thank you so much for the tea and the story, Mrs. Hodges.”

  “What story?” she asked as she opened the door.

  Two older women came in, and Melissa could see they were going to stay for a little while. As she got up from the table, Melissa glanced out the kitchen window and saw a profusion of foxglove in the garden.

  She excused herself, shaking Mrs. Hodges’s hand and offering her condolences again. As she started out the door, she heard Mrs. Hodges say to the women, “Come and have some of these wonderful cookies my daughter brought me.”

  Melissa’s mind was racing as she crossed the street to her mother’s place. When she came through the door, Brian was sitting in a recliner with his shoes off and his feet up, and her mother was sitting in a nearby chair, talking his arm off. For some reason, it irritated her.

  He brought the recliner back into upright position. “You should try this,” he said. “It feels different than any recliner I’ve ever sat in. Your mother was just telling me all about it.”

  He must have seen the look on Melissa’s face. “How’d it go?” he said.

  “I…I’m not quite sure. I learned a lot, but I really need time to sort through it all.”

  “Why don’t you just lie down in the back bedroom, dear?” her mother suggested.

  “I really want to go,” she said. “I’m not sure what to do
with any of this right now.”

  Brian stood up and put his shoes back on. Melissa realized she needed to at least be polite. “Mom,” she said, “why don’t you invite your friend on a lunch date tomorrow or the next day? We can all get acquainted then.”

  “That sounds good. I’m sure he’d like that.”

  “Goodbye, Cynthia,” Brian said, extending his hand, and then kissing her cheek. “Lovely to meet you.”

  “Lovely to meet you, too, Brian. Melissa, you take good care of this boy.”

  “I will, Mom. But maybe I’ll let him take care of me for today.”

  Chapter 9

  Melissa was not prone to headaches, but she was getting one now. She was silent during the first half of the ride back to the cabin, and Brian didn’t press.

  Finally, she heaved a big sigh. “Okay,” she said with her eyes closed. “I got a lot of information, but nothing complete enough to tell me much of anything. My mind is all over the place trying to put it together. I feel like I’m trying to hold several ends of something together, but they keep slipping out of my fingers, one after the other.”

  He nodded, looking at her. “How can I help?” he asked.

  She opened her eyes and looked around. They were still in town. “First,” she said, “let’s get some lunch. I know we have food at the cabin, but I need to give my whole brain to this.”

  “That sounds good,” he said. “Anything in particular?”

  She shook her head and closed her eyes again. “I’m really not familiar with what’s around here. You just choose what looks good to you.”

  In a few minutes, he pulled into a Vietnamese noodle house.

  She opened her eyes, “Ooh,” she said, “good choice!”

  Over comforting, warm bowls of phở, Melissa started sorting through things aloud. “She was perfectly lucid for about the first half-hour. I told her who I was, and she offered me tea and cookies. She opened up to me for some reason and told me practically her entire life story. Then, a couple came to the door to bring her food. They didn’t come in; they just talked to her at the door, offering their condolences and left.

  “When she came back to the table, it was like someone had flipped a switch. She didn’t know who I was; she didn’t know what story she was telling me; she didn’t know who my mom was. Then, get this, she started talking about the possibility of the cookies being poisoned. She said she didn’t know where they had come from and that she had given some to her husband the night before.

 

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