THE HERBALIST (Books 1-5)

by Leslie Leigh

  “Lots of glass ‘cause the bottles were empty,” he said. “But it could have been way worse. If I’d have been hit by a shelf of full bottles, I might not be here right now. How ‘bout you, Melissa?”

  “It’s going to hurt in the morning,” she said, “but it’s nothing a good dose of arnica cream won’t take care of.”

  “Good. It scared me when you went down. So what do you want to do, split them up, or what?”

  “I think if we talk to Mr. Varner first, we’ll find out what we want to know, and then we can press Mr. Walsh for a confession.”

  “You think that’s how it went down?”

  “Womens’ intuition,” she said. “Mine and the female bartender’s.”

  Muller nodded, and they went to talk with Eli Varner.

  “Mr. Varner, more than one eyewitness places you at the table when George Walsh dropped off the cyanide,” said Muller.

  “Just being there doesn’t mean shit,” he said.

  “Except collusion, perhaps. If you want to roll on your buddy, we can drop your charge to collusion to commit murder.”

  “But I didn’t collude to commit murder, and my alibi is solid for not committing the murder.”

  “We know you and Jack Burroughs used to be lovers, and that you were jealous of his relationship with Clay Barnett. If you recall, I was in the audience the night he died, so I saw the way you treated him,” said Melissa.

  “I didn’t have anything to do with the murder,” Varner insisted.

  “Okay, then, we’ll talk to your buddy and see what he tells us,” said Muller.

  They both stood, but before they could get out of the room, Varner called out. “Wait!” he said. “I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

  Melissa and the detective returned to the table. “Let’s hear it,” Muller said. “If I like it, you can write out your statement.”

  “I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Yeah, we heard that already.”

  “Walsh has had a crush on me for two years. He waited until Jack and I split up, and then he approached me.”

  “Approached you about killing Jack?”

  “Hell, no. Approached me—Walsh wanted to be my lover, but I was still so hung up on Burroughs, I couldn’t see straight. He waited and waited, thinking that I’d get over him sooner or later. But I didn’t. It started eating at me, and I started harassing Jack and Clay. That’s why I bartended that night. I wanted to heckle him. I became obsessed.”

  “So, you had him killed because if you couldn’t have him, no one else could either, and with Walsh as your lackey, he did the deed.” Muller said.

  “No! It’s not like that. Walsh made up his mind all on his own, and the night that Jack and Clay decided to stay at the hotel presented him with his opportunity. He had played it out in his mind a million times. He couldn’t believe his good fortune when Clay left. That way he only had to kill one of them. He originally wanted to make it look like a suicide pact.”

  “And you knew all of this and did nothing?”

  “Wait—I didn’t know anything before it happened. Walsh came and told me the day after. In fact, he was in my office telling me the story when you came to see me the first time.”

  “I see,” Muller said. “You didn’t collude; you’re just an accessory.”

  “Accessory?”

  “Accessory after the fact,” Melissa spoke up. “Your failure was in not telling the police.”

  Varner looked at the table. “That’s because somehow I felt I was guilty, that it was somehow my fault.”

  “But you did collude to dispose of the murder weapon.”

  He nodded his head. “I never touched it, but I did help him figure out what to do with it.”

  Muller handed him a yellow legal pad and a pen. “Write out everything you just told us. Leave nothing out and then sign it.”

  “Shouldn’t I have a lawyer or something?”

  “That’s your right if you want one. But, trust me, you don’t want this to go to trial. Take the accessory charge; you’ll be out in eighteen months.”

  Varner picked up the legal pad and pen and started to write.

  # # #

  George Walsh sat in the interrogation cubicle looking annoyed when Detective Muller and Melissa entered the room and sat at the table across from him. “Do you want to give us your statement now?” the detective asked.

  “Statement for what? I didn’t do anything.”

  “That’s not what we’ve been told.”

  Melissa spoke up. “Varner just told us the story—that you committed the murder and then told him the story, making him an accessory.”

  “I made him the accessory?” Walsh began to laugh. “Where is he?”

  “Locked up, just like you. We just talked to him first.”

  “Of course he would tell you that. I gather the sentence for being an accessory is not quite as long as for the murder itself? How convenient.”

  “So you’re saying that…?”

  “That he committed the murder and told me the story, then threatened me to keep my mouth shut, making me the accessory.”

  “I see,” Melissa said. “What was Varner’s motive?”

  “His motive? Who knows? He’s had it in for Burroughs for a long time.”

  “Well, if he told you the story, he likely mentioned the motive, didn’t he?” Muller asked.

  Walsh shrugged. “Something about if he couldn’t have him, nobody could.”

  Melissa nodded. “Where were you between the hours of 10 pm and 2 am the night Burroughs was killed?”

  “Mostly hanging out in my room.”

  “You were on night service?”

  “Yeah, but it’s kind of an on-call thing. There were only a couple of rooms occupied that night.”

  “Was anyone with you?”

  “In my room? No.”

  “So no one can vouch for your whereabouts, particularly between midnight and two?”

  “Uh, Varner can.”

  “Well, Varner knows where you were supposed to be, but not exactly where you were.”

  “Why would I lie?”

  “It doesn’t matter whether we think you lied or not. The fact is that Varner’s alibi checks out, and you don’t even have one.”

  “What do you mean that Varner’s alibi checks out?”

  “Clay was with Jack until midnight, then he was in the bar until after two. Varner was in the bar the whole time Clay was.”

  “The whole time?”

  “That’s the story.”

  “Well, he was in the wine cellar.”

  “That’s still the bar. There’s only one way in and one way out, both of which anyone in the bar could see. But honestly, nobody mentioned him going to the cellar.”

  “Yes, he did. He went and got the elderberry wine.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “He…he told me.”

  “Then, you don’t really know. What happened to Tiffany Madsen, George?” Melissa asked.

  “She quit.”

  “Why?”

  “How the hell should I know? She didn’t report to me.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Again, how or why would I know?”

  “We know you’re lying, Walsh,” Muller said. “So, cut to the chase and stop wasting our time.”

  “You don’t have a shred of evidence.”

  “We do. We have an eyewitness that puts you at the memorial table with the murder weapon.”

  He looked shocked for a second, then masked it. “Even if I had the murder weapon, it wasn’t me that killed Burroughs.”

  “Possession of the murder weapon, motive, and no alibi is pretty much all we need.”

  “I want a lawyer,” Walsh said.

  “That’s your right, then; we’re done here.”

  When Muller and Melissa had left the room, she turned to him and said, “What we really need is Tiffany Madsen. You have some info on her; let’s see what we can track down f
rom there.”

  “Do you want to come with me to Madsen’s address again, Melissa?”

  “Yes. We’re so close now; I want to see this through.”

  This time, there was someone at the address given for Tiffany Madsen. A female told them that Tiffany had left two days before, saying she was going to spend some time in Monterey.

  “Monterey’s old stomping grounds for her,” the woman said. “She likes to go there when she’s troubled about something. Is she in trouble?”

  “We hope not,” Melissa said. “Can you give us information on her automobile?”

  The woman was able to give the make, model, and color of the vehicle, and Muller was able to find a license plate by plugging the available info into the motor vehicle database. Muller put out an APB, telling that Cochise County wanted Madsen for questioning in association with a murder.

  Chapter 14

  He had barely finished putting out that information when he received a call from Walsh’s lawyer requesting a meeting. Muller invited Melissa in case anything came up in regard to the poison or the methodology.

  The next morning when Melissa opened the store, Flora and Kim were there baking. Melissa hadn’t seen Kim for a while.

  “How are you doing these days, Kim?” she asked.

  “Much better, Melissa. I know it seems crazy because it hasn’t been all that long since James and Brandon were a part of my life, but Grant is just a whole different type of person. Even my mom likes him.

  Melissa smiled at that last part. “You are right that Grant is much different than James or Brandon. This much I know, Kim; he’ll be good to you.”

  Kim smiled.

  “Flora, I have a meeting at ten in Sierra Vista to talk with George Walsh and his lawyer. Detective Muller asked me to be there in case anything comes up about the cyanide, which I’m sure it will.”

  Flora just smiled at her. “Melissa, it seems we’ve lost you to the nefarious world of murder and crime.”

  Melissa rolled her eyes and said, “Hardly.” However, she knew she had been gone a lot lately and that it must put an undue burden on the staff.

  “I guess I’ve been afraid to even ask how everything is going; I’m not sure what I would do if you said badly. But, I also sense that it’s going fairly well; neither of you look particularly stressed.”

  “Nope. It’s pretty much business as usual, Melissa. The clientele seem to be dealing with it pretty well, too, and it has forced me to bone up a bit on my herbalism in order to answer questions and steer people in the right direction.”

  Melissa felt a tiny pang of sadness at that. That had always been her favorite part of the business—feeling like she was truly helping people.

  “Chelsea Bun days aren’t too difficult?”

  Flora laughed. “No, believe it or not, Dale comes in to help. He follows instructions really well and is good at helping in the kitchen—both with construction and with cleanup.”

  That both surprised and pleased Melissa. “Tell him I’ll give him a raise.”

  “I already have,” she said.

  Melissa was surprised. “Well, it looks like then that everything is really in good hands. Flora, I’m officially appointing you manager of Melissa B’s Market.”

  “I was going to ask you why it was called Melissa B’s when your last name is Michaelson,” Kim asked.

  “Originally,” Melissa said, “it was because Melissa means ‘bee’ in Greek, and the honeybee has always been a totem for me.”

  “Originally?” Flora asked. “What’s the reason now?”

  Melissa just looked at them. “Duh,” she said, “because my last name is going to be Byrne.”

  Flora and Kim both started squealing. “You said yes? You said yes!” Flora chanted.

  “I haven’t officially said it to Brian, but heck, if you are doing so well without me, there’s no reason for me to refuse him. The rest can all be worked out.”

  They came around from behind the counter to kiss and hug her, and she went home to call Brian before she left for Sierra Vista.

  # # #

  “Hey,” Brian said, “how’s my girl?”

  “Fantastic,” she said. “It’s like a load has been taken off my back.”

  “How so? Did you solve the murder?”

  “We’re getting really close,” she said. “We just need to find one witness who will put the whole case to rest.”

  “Good. Then, what was it that removed the load?”

  “The realization that I’ve been gone an awful lot lately, and the market is doing just as well without me. Dale has been helping out on Chelsea Bun days, so I’m giving him a raise, and I just promoted Flora to manager.”

  “Wow! How does that make you feel?” he asked.

  “I was sad…for about thirty seconds. But I realized that if the market is doing that well without my constant intervention, then there’s no reason I can’t—”

  “Yes?” Brian said, his voice showing anticipation.

  “There’s nothing to keep me from marrying you. We can work out the details.”

  “Oh,” he said. “I prayed for you to realize that.”

  “Well, it worked.”

  “I love you so much!” he said.

  “And I love you right back,” she responded.

  # # #

  Face-to-face with Walsh and his lawyer, Melissa began to wonder if it were really necessary for her to be present. He was a little bulldog of a man, even in his looks. He was short, had big, wide-set eyes, and large jowls.

  “You are reaching,” the man said. “Your evidence is all circumstantial.”

  “Like we told your client, possession of the murder weapon, motive, and lack of alibi is all we need.”

  “I demand that you drop the murder charge. We’ll go for collusion to commit murder.”

  “No,” Muller said. “We have a witness whose testimony will prove much more than collusion.”

  “And would that witness be the other man you have in custody. The one who has already been offered collusion in exchange for his testimony?”

  “Not collusion. He’s an accessory after the fact.”

  Just then, an officer came in to tell Muller that he had a phone call. Muller excused himself.

  “Who are you?” the lawyer asked Melissa.

  “I’m Melissa Michaelson,” she said. “I’m an expert in poisons and poisoning methodology.” She couldn’t believe she was hearing herself say that. “Did your client say anything to you about the details of the murder? The method of administration?”

  “Yes,” the lawyer looked agitated.

  “What exactly did he tell you?”

  “It’s all in my disclosure,” the lawyer said, handing Melissa a copy.

  She read down through it. “So, he told you that the wine was poured and replaced with grape wine to look like it hadn’t been touched, and the glass wiped clean?”

  “If that’s what it says.”

  Just then, Muller returned. “Now, where were we?” Muller asked.

  “We were discussing my client as the accessory. Varner committed the murder, told my client the story, and then threatened him to keep him quiet.”

  “The same way he threatened Tiffany Madsen to keep quiet?”

  “I,” Walsh began.

  “Don’t respond to that.”

  “Go ahead and respond to that,” Muller said. “I just received a call from the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department. It seems that Tiffany Madsen came wandering in with a big wad of cash and quite a story to tell. Here’s a copy of her statement.”

  “While he’s going over her statement, Detective, I’d like you to look at a particular passage in the disclosure Mr. Walsh’s man just handed me.”

  She handed the sheet to Muller and pointed to the paragraph about the wine.

  Muller leaned forward to point out the same line to the lawyer. “Not even Varner knew those details. Nobody did but the killer. Varner’s alibi checks out, so there is no wa
y that he is the perpetrator.”

  The lawyer looked from Madsen’s statement to the disclosure sheet. He looked at Walsh, took of his glasses, and rubbed his face. “How about second degree manslaughter?”

  “Where do you get second degree manslaughter? Not only is he the perpetrator, but we have a witness who can attest to his obsession with the murder and its premeditation.”

  “All hearsay.”

  “We’ll let the jury decide that. There’s no offer, sorry. This is first degree murder.”

  Muller stood, along with the lawyer and Walsh. An officer came to escort Walsh back to his cell. “Oh, and,” Muller said, “we offered Varner nothing. He had the good sense to tell the truth when he was arrested.”

  The lawyer pushed past him without looking up again.

  Melissa smiled at Muller. “Well, that all came to a head quickly.”

  “Great timing for the SBC Sheriff’s Department to call.”

  “Well, thank god somebody’s got a conscience.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not so sure it was her conscience. She had gone to visit a friend and told them everything. The friend had the good sense to tell her just how much trouble she could be in, so she turned in the money and told the whole story.”

  “Now, it’s up to the grand jury to indict, and then we’ll cast our luck with the trial jury that our witnesses are all on the same page and seem more credible than Walsh.”

  “Did you hear what Walsh whispered to me on his way out?”

  Melissa shook her head.

  “John Dawes made me do it.”

  “Ah, so the ghost of John Dawes is now pinch-hitting for the devil, I guess,” Melissa said. “I hope he’s not foolish enough to try to use that in his grand jury testimony.”

  Muller shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone was looney enough to try something like that. But the good thing is that Walsh’s kind of looney won’t be enough to convince a psychiatrist.”

  Chapter 15

  The following Monday, there was a knock at Melissa’s door. The same pair who had delivered the first hot tub, the one that was too big for the yard, were standing there.

  One of the men was looking at the bill of lading with a puzzled look on his face. “It shows that we’ve delivered one of these smaller tubs before, same purchaser, but to a different address.”